Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Someone Else's Ultrasound
In his tongue-in-cheek "Big Mistake," David Wilcox expresses this shock way better than I ever could:
They taught us kids in school, between the recess breaks,
that the universe just sorta fell together like a Big Mistake.
It started with a bang that set the pieces flying.
Then it cooled and twirled into dinosaurs and dandelions.
CHORUS:
It was a big mistake to have eyes that see,
to have love like this inside of me,
to have lips that smile, as I swim your kiss,
to have minds that will forever every part of this.
Ah, the moonlight shrouded in the clouds above,
and the autumn leaves and the falling love,
the still reflection in the moonlight lake,
All, they said, it was a Big Mistake! It was a BIG Mistake!
"Mistake"? Hardly. A "mistake" is expecting me to be able to cook, just because I have all of the utensils. Or hoping the laundry will fold itself if I just leave it in the dryer long enough (it doesn't; trust me - I've tried). The creation and formation of new life is no mistake, and it can only be wrought through the work of the only wise God, to Whom belongs all "glory, majesty, dominion, and authority." The only "mistake" is believing otherwise.
Don't believe me? See for yourself.
"I praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made ..."
- Psalm 139:14a
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Bye, Bye, Babies: Ten Days Without the Four I Adore
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| As the family addage goes, here the kids are "prayed up, packed up, ready to go ..." on their second visit to Poland. |
Yesterday, she and my brother-in-law left for a mission trip to Poland, which, in and of itself, isn't even slightly offensive. But here's the catch. She took every single one of the Four I Adore with her.
WHO DOES SHE THINK SHE IS?!?
After dropping them off at the airport, I discussed the subject with my friend Leslie. "Shouldn't she at least leave one ... as collateral?!" I asked. "Plus, it just makes fiscal sense. One less child times three meals a day times ten days in Poland equals buying a whole lot more of that Turon gingerbread they've been bragging about since their last trip!"
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| Camera-shy Camden didn't get out of the frame fast enough on this one! Caught ya', Doodlebug! |
Thank God for SKYPE!
And thank God for their safe travels.
And thank God for videos like this to tide me over, until my boys and girls get back home where they belong.
If you think of the Nunnerys over the next several days, please do pray for their safety, health, and for their undelayed return to the U S of A, where Aunta will be waiting, as always, with "candy in one hand and a camera in the other!"
Thursday, May 17, 2012
"It's a ..." BOOOOYYYYY! That's not what I expected!
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| 15 weeks along on the happy day when Biscuit first really showed himself - I say it's a "happy day" for several reasons but mostly because now people will know I'm not just wearing muumuus and stretch pants, because I've skipped the gym on too many consecutive mornings! |
In fact, before he left for work this morning, I asked Jeremy, "I'm thinking about blogging what I journaled yesterday; what do you think?"
As usual, he gave me a very supportive green light, and in that spirit, here I go.
Yesterday, as you may or may not know, Jeremy and I were able to get a glance at the Biscuit's gender. We aren't completely positive, but both my sister-in-law-the-midwife AND an ultrasound technician think he's a boy. Too soon to say for sure? At fifteen weeks, that may be the case, but both Jeremy and I agree that these sweet ladies wouldn't have even ventured a guess if they weren't pretty certain.
This is where the "politically incorrect" part begins.
To be honest, and to my great surprise, I felt like the wind was knocked out of me when I heard the words "It's a Boy!" I tried to act unaffected. I returned Jeremy's celebratory kiss, as if I were as pumped as Mr. Pressley, but the truth was, it stung. Apparently, I was more set than I thought I was on the idea of a daughter - who, I was certain, would love Dorothy Fields as much as her mama does.
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| This very menacing profile (?) was the best picture we could get at yesterday's ultrasound. I'll tell you this: he looks nothing like the name we've picked out for him. Judging by this pic, he should be called Hulk or Slayer or Hulk the Slayer. Anybody know where I can get some spike-encrusted diaper covers? |
The very friendly medical staff, of course, showered us with congratulations. I feigned elation, hoping the palpable dip in my spirits was wholly unnoticeable to anyone other than myself. Jeremy, ever perceptive, did notice. As we walked away from the check-out desk (and several times after), he said, "I'm sorry you're disappointed."
I admitted the truth to the man who knows me best, adding, as we drove home, how silly I was being. Though, judging by the picture to the right, he's got a horrifying resemblance to Skeletor from "He-Man," our sweet baby has two arms, two legs, both hemispheres of his brain, a strong heart, and his daddy's long, bony fingers. Plus, my blood pressure is perfect, and my weight gain is well within the parameters I'd hoped to stay in for the early part of my pregnancy. Biscuit's got two (ginormous) eye sockets, a backbone - all he needs to grow big and strong. How silly - no, STUPID - of me to make an idol of a baby girl's name that my heart's been set on, since I was twelve years old.
"It's just that I wanted my baby ..." I started telling myself. It's like God stopped me before I could even complete the thought, though.
"No, Kristin," He whispered. "He's not your baby; He's MY baby."
Instantly, my attitude shifted when confronted by God's truth. Our mighty Creator is crafting this beloved boy to serve His purposes, not to give me a baby doll to dress up or a progeny to propagate my passion for the American musical. Baby Biscuit is being knit together to advance the Kingdom of the One Who has already planned his days.
What an incredible gift - and a humbling challenge - to be the one entrusted with his care!
As we continued our drive back to Canton, I also thought of Hannah. She surrendered the son for whom she had prayed, to the service of the One Who granted her request. In the same way, Jeremy and I want to give our son to God, to fulfill the role He's made for him rather than to be the extension of some self-serving agenda we've set for ourselves.
Sweet, sweet, sorta-scary-looking Jones, I love you so much.
I am so thankful and humbled that God would choose me and your daddy
"Father, God, thank You for my baby boy. Lord, continue to give him good health, and prepare Jeremy and me even now to show him how to be a super strong man of God. Lord in Heaven, we give him already right back to You with the humble request that You would equip us to train him, to teach him diligently to be the man that You made him to be. Be gracious to him that he may walk in Your ways all the days of his life. Hem him in when he would be tempted to go astray. Thank You, God, for entrusting us with Your son. Empower us now to be faithful to the call You've given us.
We love you. In Jesus's name, Amen."
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Jeremy has an announcement to make ...
In other words ...
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| Jeremy & his parents |
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| Jeremy & his nephews |
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| three of the Four I Adore, including Lila, who asked if I had my baby yet. Not quite, Huntybun. Not quite. |
Not exactly, Kiddo, but I like where your head is.
Tomorrow, I'm hoping to post where MY head is. In the meantime, suffice it to say somebody better call Coach Cal.
There's a new little recruit in North Carolina!
Sunday, May 13, 2012
"Sing Alleluia!"
This morning, though, I got to get a little taste of the place I love so much. Visiting Mom for Mother's Day serendipitously corresponded with the Four I Adore singing in an ensemble of several young Hampton Park-ers.
I may be biased, but I think they're absolutely, without a doubt, undeniably the most perfect people on the planet.
I defy you to watch this and disagree with me.
"Sing alleluia! Sing to the Lord of love!
Sing and be joyful.
Rejoice in God above.
Alleluia, praise! Alleluia, praise His name,
Who came to Earth by human birth
to be my Guide and Friend.
I will tell the world the wonder that I know.
God's love watches over me wherever I may go.
Oh, praise! Alleluia! Praise, rejoice, and sing,
for God gives us everything.
Sing alleluia! Sing to the Lord of love!
Sing and be joyful.
Rejoice in God above.
Alleluia, praise! Alleluia, praise His name,
Who came to Earth by human birth
to be my Guide,
walking by my side,
to be my Guide and Friend."
Friday, May 11, 2012
Soapbox and Then Some
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| Much as I love my Cats, there are about 6,000 things I'd rather my child wear to her first UK game then a blue and white tutu - a Michael Kidd-Gilchrist jersey comes to mind or, maybe, a hand-knitted Anthony Davis unibrow cap. |
PLEASE NOTE: I'm diplomatically resisting the urge to include links to posts like these (bless my heart), but suffice it to say that none of these blogs belong to any friends of mine. That to say, if you start to wonder if I'm talking about you, I'm NOT. No one that I know personally does this. I'm talking about the type of blog written, for the most part, by well-intentioned women who inexplicably have time to write multiple entries each day about the crippling minutae of life with toddlers who would, I'm betting, be exponentially better behaved if Mama would break free from Blogger to do a little disciplining. But, then again, if Baby were behaved, what would Mama blog about - besides, of course, hairbows and tutus.
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| Now THAT'S something to blog about! |
"Here's a good idea: HAVE A POINT. It makes it so much more interesting for the listener!"
Now that I'm off my soapbox, I can get to the point of today's post. Trust me, it isn't to brag about Biscuit's hairbows. Today, I want to boast on the God Who, even now, is knitting her (or, for my husband's sake, him) together in my womb.
Perhaps the most amazing part of pregnancy so far has been experiencing Psalm 139 in a whole new way. Parts of the passage have always been some of my favorites in the Bible - God wrote my days and knows my thoughts and hems me in? "Such knowledge is too wonderful for me ...!"
Other parts of it didn't really make sense, though, until I read them in light of this video. In case you can't tell - and trust me, I couldn't, either, had my sister-in-law-the-midwife not explained it - it's Biscuit, at 10 weeks in utero, practicing what I hope are the steps to the South Carolina Shag. To me, s/he looks like a toad / chipmunk / manatee who's about to walk on the moon.
See for yourself.
As I watched this clip for the 3,000th time, though, I thought about another part of Psalm 139:
"Your eyes saw my unformed substance."
"That's what that is!" I shouted in the midst of my "Eureka!" moment. What looks like an essentially shapeless blob of baby is what the psalmist called "unformed substance." However "unformed" it may look, though, the great Creator is molding and shaping and crafting my child into precisely the person He means His Biscuit to be. "My frame was not hidden from You when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth," David writes.
What incredible knowledge to know that the God Who works in me is, already, at work in my child and that the child who is hidden from the rest of the world is completely seen and fully known by the God Who is making him (or, for my sake, her).
___________________________________________
Now, I know it's not a picture of her first hairbow, but still. Raise your hand, if you'd like to hear Biscuit's heartbeat.
Me, too.
Here it is - our baby's mighty ticker at 8 weeks old.
"I praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; wonderful are Your works; my soul knows it very well."
___________________________________________
Oh, and while we're talking baby headgear - there's a chance we'll know next Wednesday whether we'll be buying hairbows of ballcaps. Cross your fingers that Biscuit lets us get a clean look!
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Much to Celebrate
Thirty.
FIVE...
... as in, the age my mother was when I was 9.
... as in, the age when NBA players - the lucky ones whose careers aren't cut short - RETIRE.
... as in, halfway to 70 and a whole lot closer to 40 than I ever imagined I'd be.
The funny thing is, though, I don't feel a day over 16. In fact, I fully expect half my high school to show up later tonite for a Sam's Club sheet cake and a rousing round of Bigger or Better.
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| Flag football, it turns out, is made all the more exhilerating when the "field" is full of groundhog-style holes. Just ask my brother-in-law! |
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| Does this picture make anyone else think: "Cinderelly, Cinderelly, Night and day, it's Cinderelly..."? |
Her wish is my command.
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| Huntybun knows what her Aunta likes! |
Anyway, while Lizzie Gray whitewashed every piece of tile and slab of linoleum in the house, Jeremy was tending to the grill. He made the barbecue; our mothers cooked the sides; sisters came through with other odds and ends, and Lila, as you can see, brought the centerpiece. All I had to do was show up and celebrate, and that's exactly what I did.
I celebrated a husband thoughtful enough to not only plan the event but to also spend hours prepping food and pulling weeds before the big day came. I celebrated a family wonderful enough to spend a nite hanging out at my house, and I celebrated a knowledge that, at "Thirty.FIVE," I can finally say that there's not a thing about my life that I would change.
"I will sing to the Lord, because He has dealt bountifully with me."
______________________________________________________________________
"Change" is actually a great way to describe going ons at the Pressleys' place - birthdays, too, now that I think of it. Come sometime around November 5th, Jeremy and I will be experiencing the birth day of our first baby, and man, will things change then!
Since finding out about the baby several weeks ago, we've been referring to him / her as "Biscuit," my thinking being that, if I'm gonna have anything "in the oven," I'd WAY rather it be a Biscuit than a "Bun." That to say, don't be confused if you start reading here about a "Biscuit."
Whether it's a boy or a girl, names have been picked; nursery decors have been decided, and, most importantly, a first Disney trip has been added to the family travel plan.
Between now and then, I'm just gonna show up and celebrate.
"Change" is actually a great way to describe going ons at the Pressleys' place - birthdays, too, now that I think of it. Come sometime around November 5th, Jeremy and I will be experiencing the birth day of our first baby, and man, will things change then!
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| As you can see by this picture, Jeremy and I are just a few months away from becoming the proud parents of what appears to be a manatee. |
Whether it's a boy or a girl, names have been picked; nursery decors have been decided, and, most importantly, a first Disney trip has been added to the family travel plan.
Between now and then, I'm just gonna show up and celebrate.
Friday Nite Drive
Now, you might think we saw Greenville play Lexington out of some sort of allegiance to Bluegrass ball clubs. While we surely have that - reference most every other entry ever posted on this blog - I assure you that it had nothing to do with our scheduling. That the Legends were playing was a happy coincidence of the random Wednesday afternoon when Daddy took a notion to take the family to the ball yard.
To be honest, I don't remember much about the game. Both horribly bored by baseball, Lila and I sat in the stands and painted toenails for the first four innings, while Lizzie Gray occupied herself by stalking the cotton candy man, until he-FINALLY!-brought her a big, blue, sugary balloon. I do, however, have the pictures to prove that it was a beautiful nite.
I guess the pictures also prove that Lila's got some kinda style ... and that Camden, bless his heart, has entered the "flat-billed" phase of early adolescence. Our only hope it that it ends before progressing into the "baggy-britches" rite of pre-teen passage.
Cross your fingers, Y'all.
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