I just changed a stinky diaper. It was gloriously stinky. Full of the nasty stank that I know and love. Sweet cheeks Beex (aka Felix).

I talked to a dear friend of mine today. We've been friends since 1st grade. She and her husband have been married for three years and have been trying to have a baby for almost that long. They have endured several failed invitro attempts and two miscarriages. I cannot imagine her heartache. It was all we talked about as children; getting married and having kids. I talk to her and cry when I get off the phone and wonder why can't she get pregnant. Why? Why is God allowing her to go through this? What is He teaching her? I pray for her to be able to get pregnant. I have seen her grow in Christ and see her faith and I admire her. I don't know if I'd be the same way. I don't know the answers.

She asks me about my kids and laughs at my stories about them. Her sisters get pregnant easily. And so do I.

I'm rambling I know. I'm so thankful for my children, even when they drive me crazy. I'm even thankful that I have endured three vomit-filled pregnancies. And I'll take a stinky diaper anytime.

Man, it's hard not to know the answers.

Nutella

There are many things that I have not yet discovered in the world. I have yet to be stranded on a desert island so I have not had to rely on my keen senses and knowledge of the grand outdoors to survive. I would actually really hate for that to happen because I would probably have to concede to death. I just finished reading "Swiss Family Robinson" and am exceedingly aware of my own ignorance of how to survive. Not only on a deserted island, but in the great state of Alabama if there were ever to be a state of real emergency, hence- no Publix (or the like). Maja told me she would teach me how to garden this year. This is something I need to know. I also need to know how to slaughter an animal and use all the parts for useful things. I'm keeping "Swiss" on hand, just in case.

Anyway, to my new discovery... I had a small get together at my house yesterday evening. Of course, small does mean just 6 ladies, but there were 16 children between us. The husbands were at the session meeting at church, so we just wanted to chat over decaf and snacks (and never be able to finish a sentence without yelling "what's the matter?' or "is he bleeding?' or " if you do not stop hitting people with Rescue Heroes, there is going to be serious consequences!"). We finally decided that the evening was warm enough to send the children outdoors for hide and seek. Snacks were as follows: I made a Double Chocolate Chocolate Chip Cookie Batch, Ginger brought delicious party sandwiches left over from lunch, and Heather brought Croissants and Nutella. Hmmm... Nutella. Yeah, you've seen it before. It's on the grocery shelves and looks foreign. Heather said that it's what Europeans use for peanut butter. I was pretty skeptical. After all, it's made with hazelnuts and I'm not a big hazelnut fan. However, it's also made with chocolate, and it did look a wee bit like frosting. Alright, I'm game. I spread some on a croissant and took a tentative bite. Oh my, yum. Utter yumness. It's like a ten second doughnut. I lost self control with the Nutella for the rest of the evening and then Heather (probably because I consumed much of her jar) left me the remainder for my future enjoyment. Quinn thought it was repulsive, but what does he know. He pops Godiva chocolate like m&m's and doesn't even taste it! ( He always looks at me like I'm crazy when I say that). Allow me to recommend Nutella for your future enjoyment as well! Hail to the Motherland!

WANTED...



Someone to buy an old house in Birmingham, AL. It's really cute. It has three bedrooms, one and half baths, and a garage underneath the house. It's all brick on the outside and all hardwood floors on the inside. Yep. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?..... Bueller?

Alright the truth! There has probably been pee in every section of the upstairs. I know for a fact that all of the plants were watered that way. The house does smell a little damp inside, but you get used to it. Oh yeah, you can't walk naked in the front of the house because of the enormous picture window. ( It is a Pella window though) Vomit and diarhea are a way of life for three little boys with excellent gag reflexes and I am a mediocre housekeeper (I'm getting better though with each child that I bear). It has lots and lots of character, including where I ran into the house three times in the minivan. (I just barely missed the garage). The last time caused significant damage to van, but not the house (it's brick, remember?).
Anyway, it's been on the market since June '05 and we're ready to be D-O-N-E!

if you want to take a look, it's Realty South's website and the address is 441 Chestnut St.
birmingham 35206.

I MISS BLOGGING. I think of blogs all the time. The previous one was one that I wrote on paper to blog when I actually had access to a computer. I do have access to computers more than I blog, but somehow I don't feel like blogging when I am around a computer. The other day, I was just dying to blog and so I picked up some paper and jotted down my thoughts. It was good just to write down something. One of the reasons I like blogging so much is that it reminds me of journaling, which I used to do a hundred years ago.

A hundred years ago. An exaggeration? Perhaps. Missy Lowery called me today to wish me a happy 13th anniversary. We met 13 years ago. I moved to Birmingham 10 years ago. This year Quinn and I will be married 8 years. Time goes by and days drudge. It seems surreal. I'm getting older and am enjoying my life. I feel better and know myself better than I did 13 years ago. I like to cringe when I look at myself when I was nineteen. Anyway, now it's 2007. I didn't bother with any New Year's Resolutions this year. I fail them just as fast as I break them. Anyone else with new hopes of a thinner, more organized you? Curious.

Reflections of a Sinner written on 12/27

I've got my hair like I like it. My house is clean (for me anyhow). We're expecting company for lunch. I'm sitting on the couch listening to Sufjan Stevens (HIGHLY recommend) and am inconceivably satisfied with myself. I hear the children skating outside and smile to myself over my proud accomplishment of marrying a wonderful man and creating three beautiful children. I've been blessed by the Lord. And yet- I'm not still.

The fire burns. My insecurities rise up and quench my thoughts. I'm never satisfied. The perverbial ten pounds hangs over my head, even though I know it will not be enough when it's gone. I desire more money... although the same truth about the ten pounds exist also with money. And then the thoughts that I could never admit out loud stifle me so much that I gasp and put hands over my face in despair. Why do I SEEK sin? Romans 3 screams in my face: No one seeks God, not one.

No one reflects my sin more than my children. I discipline them and talk to them about their heart and see my own crap reflected in their eyes.

Why does He see me as beautiful? Why does He love me as His own? I do not understand the depth of my own sin and He loves me. How can it be?