Okay, so I admit it - I like some Britney Spears songs. And..right now I am listening to "Toxicity." It was really popular when I took this jogging class. Now, I just want to run when I hear it.

Yeah! We are moving!!! Can I hear a "whoop whoop"? No, I'm not insane - just insanely tired. And a little happy. And a little worried.

I want to tap dance again. I might just be another Ginger Rogers with a few more lessons. Yeah., baby, that's right. You heard me.

I am sooooooo tired. I need sleep. It's not fair. Hubby can have caffeine - I can't. No justice.

I like flowers. I want a yard full of flowers.

Friends are a blessing of God. I can't imagine life without any friendships.

Modest Mouse is a great musical group. Their music is great for days when you resolve to make the best of a stressful life. "Float On" just kind of makes you think things are better already.

What is a "machine head"? And why is it better than the rest? What is the rest?

I like to blog. It helps me procrastinate. Hubby is away getting more caffeine. I want Mountain Dew, too. NO FAIR!

Moving is soooo not fun. It will be thirty years before I want to move again. Then, I will just move onto my house boat and sail away. Of course, I will have to convince the people that I love to also buy house boats to sail with me. Wouldn't that be great? Either that or a RV caravan sort of like "Promised Land."

"You never know just how you look through other people's eyes..." A girl at the restaurant tonight told me I was huge. She asked me if I ate alot. She just found out that she is pregnant.

I must go pack things. I must go pack things...I hate packing boxes. However, if I don't watch Hubby closely he will do what he is threatening to do - throw random things in a box. Then the objects will be unorganized and jumbled - kind of like the thoughts in my head. Yeah, I'm tired.

There are some days when Limp Bizkit's "Break Something" just fits all too well.

Today is one of those days. Life is absolutely aggravating today. My landlord is messing around with things on my front porch. Hubby is in class. I don't want to mess with the situation. The apartment is a mess. Only have two days to pack and move. We close on Thursday - that's a good thing, at least. Bella is a terror. My huge, unorganized paper on body image is due - the rough draft- a week from tomorrow. I spent 4 hours in the library doing research today. I can't get anything done!!! And - I can't have any carbs - or else I will be fat. What in the world doesn't have carbs besides nasty stuff? (Although, I guess that salad and frozen grapes aren't nasty. Or a great big, juicy steak cooked over an open fire...)

Can you sense the frustration?

"Give me something to break!"

Just one of those days

Feelin' like a freight train
First one to complain
Leaves with a blood stain...


And if my day keeps going this way I just might break your (bad word) face tonight...

I would love nothing more than to hit the gym for two - make it three - hours. This is a great mood to push your body to complete physical exhaustion to. Then, I would have a nice, steamy bubble bath and listen to Grateful Dead after all of the anger passed. Then, I would devour a salad and frozen grapes and pray that God would change my attitude. Then I would nestle into my competely neat and tidy little bed to watch Gone With the Wind while I drank Martinelli's Sparkling Cider (I know - it's silly. However, this is my wishful thinking.) and paint my toenails. Or look at the latest issue of In Style Magazine. Ah, so therapeutic.

However, it's back to reality. Tonight, I must write five pages - at least - of my paper. Then I must pack and clean this awful dumpy place. By that time, the creature inside of me will have me so tired I will not be able to move. I will not, however, be able to be comfortable either. So, that leaves me tossing in bed all night - praying for rest. Yeah!

I don't care what rumors circulate about Tchaichovsky, I think he was brilliant.

Aren't roses beautiful? I really, really find myself favoring them over more exotic flowers. I can't wait to start planting roses in my yard. It really is tiny. But, actually, that just means that I can convince Hubby that grass is boring and we need a yard full of flowers - which has long been a dream of mine.

I want a piano... I know that it will probably be years, but every time that I listen to classical music that I have played before, I start counting in my head. Isn't that weird? Oh, well - maybe someday...

So, this weekend was a weekend to be around babies - lots of cute baby boys! It started off with seeing a cute little newborn in a gas station on our way to Charleston Saturday. (Isn't that a bizarre place for a newborn?) Then, I got to see Hubby's friends' little 2-year old son. He was so adorable! Then, last night we were invited to a party where there was a cute little 4 month old baby boy. I can't wait to get my little boy!!! Whenever I get really stressed, I just sit in a rocking chair and put my hand on my belly and talk to him. He usually starts moving around. That is one of the most awesome feelings. I really feel sorry for men - they miss out. (I know that I will probably not feel that way some time around July 1st.) But I still can't wait to rock my little boy! :)

Yeah for springtime, and Easter, and baby boys! (I keep imagining next Easter - when my little boy and my very handsome husband are matching in blue seersucker suits. It will be awesome!)

Just Reading the News...

So, here I am...

I am supposed to be writing a Philosophy paper on Descartes, but I'm listening to DC Talk (that's right, you heard me) and blogging. Yeah!

I just have to say kudos to the spunky little old lady who saved her home from vandals. In Houston, there was this little old lady at home with her two grandsons. She said that she was upstairs when she heard a knock at the door. So, she leaves the boys upstairs and starts hobbling down the stairs, yelling "I'm coming."

The impatient bad boys at the door start messing with the knob. This leaves granny to yell, "I TOLD you I was coming!" She gets to the door and opens it just a crack. That is when she spots the would-be-intruders. She also spots their gun. Now, what does little granny do? This is great, y'all...

"Hell no!" She screams.

The guy goes for his gun. She starts running out of the door. That's when she remembers that the boys are in the house.

"If you mess with my grandsons, I will KILL you!"

They must have believed her. Those men tore out of there. Now, is that or is that not a spunky little lady? Looks like it pays to have some spunk in this world. I can only hope that I, too, will one day be a spunky little old lady.

Wow, "What Have We Become?" is a really, really sad song. Have you ever noticed?

On a more serious note...
Please join me in praying for the Christian convert in Afganistan. May God's will be done in this situation. And - wow - how awesome is his outlook at the whole situation? I pray that God would give me the strength to act in the same unapologizing, nonchalant way if I were to ever be in that situation. May God give him strength and peace and joy - even now.

Wow, is this funny...

Today in class, I had the funniest thing happen to me...

I rushed to class today. Since I can no longer - or at least this is what I am "afeared" of- sit in a desk in that room comfortably, I decided to take on eof the side desks in the room so that I could just sit sideways and avoid trying to put my watermellon-sized-belly under the desk. So, this puts me in front of this older man.

Now, this man is an interesting figure. He is obviously retired. I think that he must just be auditing classes for free since he is an older dude. I totally could see myself doing that one day. I can also see myself bringing the whole class chocolate chip cookies and pictures of my grandchildren...But that's a different story. I have been raised with a sense of respect and veneration for those with hoary hair. So, when he shuffles papers the whole class and sighs deeply at every sentence, I just ignore it. I just keep thinking about how cool it is that he is still interested in obtaining knowledge instead of sitting at home exercising his fingers on his remote control. However, after today, I am firmly convinced that his wife provided his sudden inspiration for the quest of knowledge in the form of an ultimatum - poor woman. The old curmudgeon was probably driving her crazy at home.

I don't know why, but every time that I enter that classroom my allergies go crazy. Today, my nose kept itching. Now, that in itself makes it pretty hard to concentrate on the impact of journalism on popular culture of the 19th century. To provide some relief, I just rubbed my nose with the back of my hand - wondering the whole time who was going to be my guest. (Y'all know that wives' tale, right?)

Mr.Curmudgeon leans forward in his seat. I am actually caught up in the impact of the lecture at the time, so I am completely unprepared for what I am about to hear.

"Can't you get yourself a damn kerchief, for God's sake?!"

I turned around - along with about three or four people around me - and just stared at him. I could have understood it if I was blowing snot boogers on my desk, or if I was actually picking my nose...But for touching the tip of my nose with the back of my hand? What?

My eyes went as big as saucers. Even Dr.Shields looked in our direction. Pregnancy hormones almost took over at this point. I really wanted to start crying, and go home. I don't know if he was just one of those old people who thought that he was whispering, or if he just didn't care. But he had said this in a pretty loud voice.

I suddenly had images of me knocking him in the head with my notebook. For those of you who don't know, I don't genuinely like people - at least not rude people. I am really praying that God will help me love people. So, I felt that to hit this little old man would not be the correct mode of action. So, I just started praying for him. Really, y'all, he must be really, really miserable.

And then the comedic nature of the situation hit me. His face held the same expression that I have seen on the faces of little, belligerent children who missed a nap. And my face must have been pretty funny, too. And then I thought about what would have happened if I had stood up, knocked him on the head with my notebook, and sat back down to take notes again. I might have killed him - or at least knocked him unconcious. He's a pretty old dude.

And then I just wish that I could buy him an etiquette book. And tell him that now that he lives in the South, he's expected to be nicer to people. He is not in New York City. However, if he should like to go back there...(His accent plainly tells that he is not from around these parts.)

And then here is what I really, really wish that I could have said to him - because this is what he needed to hear most:
"Can't you accept the love of Jesus into your heart, for your sake?"

And then that just reminds me of something that judgmental, self-righteous little me needs to hear. When I would misbehave as a child, my mom's preferred means of discipline was to banish us to our rooms to copy a meaningful Bible verse several, several times. While I was not happy at being punished, I couldn't say anything because it was the Bible I had to copy. So, I would sit in my room and write, and think, and try not to feel guilty, and try to tell God that I didn't need that verse...It did no good. And I really did learn from that punishment. And now, thanks to my misbehaving and mom, I have Ephesians 4:32 forever engrained into my memory.

"Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you."

God, I know that you are still working on me. And I'm glad for it. Because I need alot of work. Help me to fulfill the commandment to truly love others - even the rude people.

It's Okay, You're Not Supposed to Get It....

Trying to desperately get to know you...Tearing through layers and layers...spreading out like a jungle... My machete must be dull...

God save the King of New Orleans..

We are like dust floating in sunbeams...Do you remember?

How long ago was it? Red car, warm wind rushing in our hair, bright sunshine ... Music played...

Was it a dream? Shady paths, rustling leaves, high hopes...Birds sang...

My feet fly...my heart pounds...Feel the speed...Feel the rush of air...Keep running...Keep running...Keep running.....Don't stop...Never slow down...The peace of sweet oblivion...My feet move by themselves...

My eyes are closed...Arms spread wide...I float on the breeze...Am I standing still?...

Gravity is defied...I am weightless...Carried...My eyes are closed...I am floating...

You hugged me...my soul...my heart...I was supported...peace...

I am here, but I am far away...I dance...I float...weightless...Can this be real?...

Silly girl...silly thoughts...silly emotions that cloud my mind...

One chapter closed...another just beginning...The only part I know is the very last page...
And You are there...

What a Day.....

So here is how my day has gone so far - and it's barely noon.

This morning, I overslept - listening to about an hour of old timey country music on 94.3 FM on my alarm before finally deciding that I needed to get up. That, of course, made me late for my class -Senior Seminar, no less. So, I ran to class, realizing that I had no change for the meter and had no way to get change before class. I get to class, where we are discussing the 30 page papers that I have due in two weeks. Yeah, that's right - due the week after I move into my house. Have I written anything beyond the introduction? No. But, my teacher really, really liked my introduction. So, at least that went right.

After trying to explain to him that it is really hard to write a paper when you have to revise your outline (once I started trying to write, I realized mine need some serious help), pack for a move, catch up after being sick for over a week, and carry a baby, I walked out to my car. Oh, wait - where was my car? That's right, folks. My car was towed. So, I called Hubby who was trying to finish some of the enormous work load that he has for his classes. He came to pick me up, so that I could drop him off, so that I could take the car and pay the $200 in parking fines to get my car back. Needless to say, we got stopped by a train - taking up valuable time.

So...I dropped him off. Then I went to pay tickets. I sat through 4 lights at the corner of Laurel and Sumter while a HUGE procession of cop cars went whizzing by. Finally I park and walk several blocks. Ladies, once you are pregnant, you will realize what a feat that is in itself. I get to the building, only to discover that the place that I need to be is on Main Street. Yeah - right?

So I drive the length of Main St about 3 times looking for the place. Finally find it. The lines are set up like a checkout at a grocery store. There are two lines. You pick the line that you would like to wait in - and wait your turn. So, there is only one woman in one line and two women in the other line. Naturally, out-breath-from-my-walk-me takes the line with only one other woman in it. This obnoxious woman with hair a color that will never be found in nature almost knocks me down, informing me that she is not really in the other line. She is in limbo. And which ever line should finish first would be her line. Okay, but do you really have to be rude about it? I mean, I am already not such a nice person. And I'm pregnant - enough said.

You can imagine the rest of the story. I pay the tickets. I go to the municipal court. The baby is pressing on my bladder. Actually, the baby feels more like a lead cannon ball in my stomach...

I get into my car to brave traffic to take me back to my dumpy apartment - which I am still trying to pack to get out of. And I just started whining to God. (That is - in case you wondered - my favorite pasttime lately - or so it seems.)

"I know that You are in control, God. But what are we going to do? I can't write my paper. Hubby can't get his school work done and work. How are we going to pack? What if the animal control people come back to take Bella and we really don't have the 5 days they promised? What are we going to do with Bella? Should we try to give her away? What is going to happen with this landlord situation? I feel like crap, God - all the time. Where is Hubby going to find a job? ...Blah, Blah, Whine, WHINE!"

And God answered me back. Not audibly. But, sort of. Do you remember that song "Don't Worry. Be Happy"? That started playing on the radio. That song always just brings back a wave of comforting feeling from my childhood. It reminds me of basking in the sunshine and feeling the warm water of Lake Murray - every day of the summer when I was a kid. It reminds me of making lake-shore-sand-castles with my Mom and brother and aunt and cousins. It reminds me of powdered doughnuts. It reminds me of a time when I didn't worry how I looked in a bathing suit. It reminds me of a time when there were no landlords, or bills, or 30 page papers to write, or animal control people wanting to take my dog away...It reminds me of laughter, and love, and lots and lots of energy...

I could feel the tears in my eyes. That's when the words started sinking into my brain. "Don't Worry. Call me, I'll make you laugh..." That's what God is telling us. Call Him. Talk to Him. He'll put things into perspective. He'll give us joy. We just have to listen. So, He keeps telling me this over and over again. But why can't I accept it? I don't know, but I'm praying about that, too. God is awesome. More awesome than I can ever know. I just need to trust Him.

Do you remember the guy who told Christ, "I believe. Help now my unbelief." I am that guy. I am the girl in Miracle on 34th Street saying "I believe. I believe. It's crazy, but I believe." I acknowledge it. I am just having a hard time claiming it. Pray for me.

God, please help me to claim the promise that You have given me. Help me to know that You are in control. Help me to trust You with every situation. That means taking my hands off. Help me, Father.

Read this, then read the book....

I would like to make a book recommendation. My Popular Culture prior to 1890 class is reading a book by Horatio Alger called Ragged Dick. I feel as though I am too stressed out in this point in life to enjoy reading anything beyond parenting books. However, this book appears to be one that I would enjoy - despite the long list of things that I still have left to accomplish in the next week and a half. Oh, yeah, it also doesn't hurt that this is one of the things that I have to accomplish in that time.

The book takes place in New York City around the turn of the century. The book was written about a group of boys who had to support themselves, and were - by all rights - homeless. It describes their thoughts, attitudes, and lifestyle. That in its ownself is interesting enough. However, couple that with the fact that one of the characters actually existed. That is where the book becomes more than just an interesting read. That is the point when the book becomes an interesting study of human nature.

The main character, a boy called Dick, is an illiterate, neglected shoe-shine boy. Now, something you must understand - shoe-shine boys are even lower on the totem-pole than news paper boys. Therefore, we ascertain the fact that Dick could successfully write a blues song that would make even the most calloused heart cry. However, Dick sees himself as having no means to self-improvement. That is where a character called Frank (sorry, the last name escapes me) comes in. Frank is a pretty well-to-do young man who meets Dick (if you want details, you must read the book) and suddenly shows Dick that a completely different life could be available to him. Frank provides the key to self-improvement that Dick has been lacking. Therefore, it is no surprise for me to reveal to you the fact that this book deals with the metamorphosis that Dick undergoes from lowly shoe-shine boy to respectable citizen.

However, I have explained all of that only to tell you the most interesting feature of the novel. Horation Alger actually included a "real" shoe-shine boy in New York City as one of his characters. While walking the streets of the city one day, Alger met a shoe-shine boy who he saw as the perfect prototype of his book. He actually used the boy's real name. Now, the boy doesn't hold a leading character role. However, he does appear as a friend of the fictitious Dick. What does this mean to a homeless, hungry boy? Well, here is the significance - it says to him, "You don't have to always be homeless and hungry. Here is a story about one of your associates - fictitious as he is - who rose above this. You can, too." This book was the means of hope to one boy who has probably long been deceased, telling him that he could rise above all odds. That alone, to me, makes the book worth the read.

This is very definitely a book that I will read to my son. Not only is the story-line absolutely fascinating, but the individual subplots involved in the book read as short stories themselves. This book is also an excellent example of the type of book that is definitely meant to be read aloud. That is something which, as sad as it may be, modern books lack.

Oh, yeah - and to finish my very long rant on the many reasons with which I should like to convince you to read this book - it contains something that has long intrigued human nature. We all love the good news story of someone getting swindled. Don't even try to tell me that I'm wrong. So, this book contains more stories of scam artists, robberies, swindling techniques than, perhaps, any other. You might even find that some of these scams are still being used today.

I have taken up too much of your time, so just let me sum the whole matter up now. Ragged Dick is an excellent book that I am enjoying reading. Now, I will end this here so that I may go finish the last few chapters.

Happy Reading!!!!!

Take A Deep Breath - This Is A Long One

I always like Friday nights. All day I clean house - or at least try to - and run errands and wait for Hubby to come home. Fridays are usually not so great days - I usually have a test in philosophy that Peanut likes to kick right through. Then it's a mad dash to shower so that I look presentable when my husband sees me that night. But after 5pm - then everything gets better. Hubby comes home - and I wait at the door for his kiss. I know that with that kiss our date night starts. Being the old married couple that we have become accustomed to being, we usually find some restaurant to go to - and wait the 45+ minute wait to eat really awful cheap food. But it's so much fun - really.

So this Friday we decided to be brave. We went to the mall and shopped. And I discovered that I am not the carefree, pretend-to-be-trendy-and-sexy-while-I-shop-in-teeny-bopper-chain-clothing-stoors girl that I used to be. It's okay - that persona always just felt comical for me to pretend to be anyways.

After making our purchases, we decided to brave the local chain, Italian eatery with the great salad and breadsticks. Somehow, I am glad that we decided to brave the wait. It was actually the most enjoyable part of the evening. We got to watch what life will soon be for us, as three different families with small babies came in. We also got to observe the fear and disgust in the waitstaff's eyes as they witnessed a large group of people whose table had been given to someone else 15 minutes ago come marching back into the restaurent informing everyone that they were the "party ready to party" complete with dance moves.

But then something caught my eye - and made me a little sad. There was a group of three guys and three girls off to the side. They walked in right after us and were sat near us. The three guys were very obviously friends - and it looked as if they were all bringing their girlfriends with them for a great (okay, that point may be debated) Italian meal. Two of the girls looked as if they could have been long lost cousins. I think that they even used the same brand hair dye. There they were - party girls in the making. But then there was the third girl. Somehow, she just stood out like a sore thumb. I kept trying to find out why. She was really pretty - long brown hair and a cute figure. She was dressed very cutely, too. And in a way I think that any parent would be proud to see their daughter dress to go out on a date. But she still just looked as if she did not belong in that group. Her arms were folded across her stomach the whole time. And, bless her heart, she was just sort of out of the conversation loop.

Soon we were sat, and made our way to our table. But, like I said - they were also soon seated near us. I would have just forgotten all about them, but then Hubby noticed that the guys walked by our table from the bar with Marguaritas in their hands. Now, okay - it really doesn't make me sad to see someone drink (contrary to popular opinion) - but underage drinking does make me sad. It also makes me a little upset to see an obviously underage person get away with drinking in a public place. I've had to card people before. It's not that hard to tell.

Hubby saw those guys again. This time they were vomiting like crazy in the men's room. Bless their hearts - no, really.

Now maybe I'm just being judgmental. Maybe I just have weird age perception now. (I did think that a 40 year old guy was about 60 only a few weeks ago.) But something about that whole scene seemed so familiar to me. I have been that girl who stuck out like a sore thumb before. I know what's about to happen. The other guys have been dating the other girls for - maybe not long -but still longer than the third guy and girl. She doesn't fit in. She's going to be dumped. And the guy will only allude to the real reason. He'll tell her "It's not you - it's me. You're just so nice of a girl. I feel bad - like I'm going to corrupt you. Maybe in about a year - can I call you then?" Or maybe he'll just hand her her walking papers with no real explanation. But the break-up is inevitable. And if she's not really mindful of what's important - she's going to think that something is wrong with her. That she needs to conform. That she needs to be more of a party girl. That somehow the old saying's just right and nice girls really do come in last. And if she's anything like me - she'll think that guys like that are all that she can get. She'll see that great Christian guys just want to be her friend and cute party boys only want her to change. And she'll get stubborn. And she'll think that God doesn't have anyone out there for her.

I wish that I could talk to her. I wish that I could tell her that God's plan is perfect. I wish that I could tell her that she doesn't need to be like everyone else. I wish that I could show her how wonderful dating is with the right guy. I wish that I could remind her that she doesn't know what God has in store - and that's an awesome thought. Because God's plans are always the best plans. Thinking that you have to conform and settle and change who you are just to be with somebody is like still driving that broken down Pinto when you could have the keys of a great, custom-order two-seater convertible Mercedes with all the options.

And then I am so greatful to have Hubby. He is all I have ever dreamed of - plus so much more. I found this journal article that I wrote just two weeks before he asked me for my phone number. I listed every trait that he posseses as what I wish that I had in a partner - if God should see fit to someday honor me in such a manner. Only he just adds more great things to the list. Truly God's gifts are the best. Who would have thought that I would have been blessed this much in only a little over a year? I can't say it enough - God's plan is awesome.

HAPPY ST.PATRICK'S DAY!!!!!

Here's an Irish proverb to remember -

"Drink is the curse of the land.
It makes you fight with your neighbor.
It makes you shoot at your landlord,
And it makes you miss him."


This, ladies and gents, is why I don't drink! - and especially today!

Hey, I have started a new blog, for those of you who are gluttons of punishment and torture, at carolinacottonbloom.blogspot.com. Check it out if you would like to hear me go off on countless tirades about Southern heritage.

Since I have been a small child, I have always loved St.Patricks Day. I know that I have never ever seen Ireland - or probably ever will. But you know how crazy Americans are - my great-grandparents were born in Ireland, so my grandmother has always just instilled some sort of connection with the Emerald Isle into my little head. So, from one little Southern, ain't-never-been-out-of-Carolina-hardly, "Happy St.Paddy's Day!"

One month until celebration time! Get ready!

"Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty;
the whole earth is full of his glory."

Isaiah 6:3

If you want chills, read Isaiah 6. God is SO much greater than a mere mortal will ever know. Can you imagine? Even the angels have to shield their eyes with their wings.

I want my soul to dance for God today. I want to worship Him. He so deserves our worship! He is the Creator of everything - the Ruler of the Universe! And despite the fact that I am mere dust that doesn't even deserve to THINK about being able to talk to Him, He loved me enough to come to earth in the shell of a man's form to die a cruel death at the hands of men that He created - all of this so that I would have a way to enjoy His presence. PRAISE HIM, PEOPLE!!!

Easter is only a month away. Get ready, people. Prepare your hearts! This is a HUGE, ENORMOUS celebration for God's people. Christ conquered death and evil and sin once and for all! Our fates have been decided! Let's celebrate! We've won through Christ!

On top of being so blessed to have a chance at ETERNAL LIFE, God still blesses me! Isn't it amazing? WOW! Here are some of my blessings:
1.A WONDERFUL Hubby. I love this man SO much!
2.The wonderful miracle that is this baby being formed inside of me! Baby boys are such a blessing!
3.The best parents in the world. Thanks, Dad and Mom, for being there when I need you.
4.A new house! Two weeks, baby!
5.Wonderful, encouraging friends
6.A life renewed daily through direct communion with Christ. Isn't it an awesome thought!
7.GRACE
8.Joy that doesn't need to be dependent on circumstances - and a God who reminds me of this when I forget.
9.The promise that God will take care of my child...

Wow, that reminds me.
My mom and I were talking the other day. We were talking about the baby, and about how I just want my child to be totally devoted to Christ - from the start. My mom had been reading 2 Timothy, and God had reminded me of this also. But, in the beginning of 2Timothy, Paul talks about how Timothy's mom and grandmom loved God and began instilling that love into Timothy. And then in 2 Timothy 3:14-15 Paul tells Timothy that he( Timothy) knew the Scriptures from a young age. And I could just see someone telling Peanut those words one day - to remind him to hang on to the grace of the gospel. Hubby and I have an awesome responsibility, but God is going to bless us here, too. Thank God for His blessings!

Let's just praise God today, y'all!

I am going to tan now, but...

I had a sudden revelation at lunch today - I think that I am Hubby's magic black woman. So, there!

Never mind the white skin - I am going to work on that now. I got soul, sista!!

A Walk To... - Did you already forget?

No more wintery days!!! I forbid them!!! It is sunny outside. Do you know what I say to all weathermen who predicted that it would storm today - "Ha!!" Let there be sunshine and warmth and Grateful Dead playing. Oh, yeah, and frozen grapes and grilled shrimp! And puppies - poodle puppies!!!

Do you remember the movie "A Walk to Remember"? I love that movie. I love Landon - what good girl wouldn't? The bad guy who is unhappy deep-down with his wild lifestyle. He meets the girl that only he can find utterly beautiful - until he reveals her beauty to the entire world - and then she reforms him. (Deep sigh...) So, I was thinking about Jaimie's list. And I came up with my own. This is an abbreviated version, of course. Most of my blogs are abbreviated for your reading pleasure. (I like to talk, ur, write - what more can I say...)

Before I am dust in the ground/ pushing up daisies/having groundhogs deliver my mail... I would like to...
1.Write a book - and have it published - and have it read by the world.
2.Master a foreign language well enough to converse comfortably.
3.Own a designer handbag - and a whole closet of designer shoes...especially Jimmy Choo, Marc Jacobs, Kate Spade...
4.Be completely out of debt.
5.Drive a fully restored 1967 Dodge Charger that's horn plays "Dixie"
6.See Europe.
7.Live in Mexico for a month - a small city that is not a "touristy" place.
8.Know that God has used me to bring at least one other soul to Him.
9.Hear my son say that he is proud of me.
10.Have a small, little poodle that is completely mine and spoiled - oh, so spoiled.
11. Wear - even if for only 5 minutes - an antique GIGANTIC emerald cocktail ring surrounded by diamonds.
12.Wear a full-skirted, vintage Oscar de la Renta ball gown - and look absolutely stunning in it.
13. To be described as possessing charm - and grace.
14.To be readily identified as being Southern - from a mile away.
15.Learn to paint - for real.
16.Sing karaoke.
17.Go to culinary school.
18.Obtain the nerve - and desire once again- to go parasailing.
19.Learn how to sail.
20.Eat at 21 in New York City.
21.Read Georgia Scenes by Augustus Longstreet in its entirety.
22.Go to the annual South Carolina Civil War Symposium.
23.Have long, long hair all the way down my back again.
24.Have a signature scent.
25.Run a marathon.
26.Run on the battery and surrounding streets on a beautiful spring day.
27.Be whisked away on a surprise romantic get-away with Hubby.
28.Be part of a book club.
29.Be a graceful - that not being easy for me - ballroom dancing DIVA. Yeah, you heard me -DIVA!
30.Go on a missions trip.

Yeah, there's more - but right now I have things to do. I have to go get Hubby a new battery for his car. I have to start writing my 30 page paper on the history of body image in America. And - I have to tan (because it makes me feel good - wish you could hear the Adam Sandler voice in my head saying that) and work out. I WILL run today - even if only a mile.

Grilled Shrimp and Ocean Water...

Wow have I been having some kind of nightmares lately! Thank goodness for the man in the powdered wig and grilled shrimp dream. I am almost fearful to go to sleep now. So, last night, I just cried out to God and begged Him to protect my dreams. And He did. And I had another really GREAT dream.

So here it is ...(insert wavy haze to suggest dream sequence)
Hubby and I were in some tropical, very relaxing place with about 2 or 3 other friends of Hubby. I must have also known them - we had to hang out together while Hubby was taking care of some kind of business.
Then, Hubby told me just to go out to the pool at this really nice resort for a while. The sky was so blue. Palm trees waved above me. And, y'all, I had a rockin' body. Let's just say I had no reason to be self-conscious in my still-very-covering designer bikini. It was so nice just to lay out by that clear pool water with the ocean not far off - white sand beaches that were deserted . Pool attendants were bringing me fruit juice and clean white towels. And my friends were there - whoever they were. They were acting like my boy cousins used to - threatening to pick me up and throw me into the water.
Hubby came out to the pool after a short time and informed me that he was mine for the rest of the afternoon. We just sat out by the pool together and enjoyed not having any work to do.
Then I saw a picture of us that night. I had a strapless, tight white sundress on. It contrasted nicely with my soft, tanned skin. My hair was perfect. My make-up and jewelry were right on target - and very trendy and expensive. Hubby looked really nice, too - and so comfortable. We were in a open area of a nice restaurant right on the beach. A band was playing, and the food was exquisite. And, yes, they served alot of grilled shrimp. I knew most of the people in the place - and there was no stress with that knowledge. Waitors and waitresses were only too happy to oblige our requests. I couldn't stop smiling. Hubby was laughing and talking - and I just listened to him with such a light heart. I was able to lay aside the thick exterior that usually surrounds me and just relax.

I feel as if I should have been dreaming of feeding hungry children in Africa, or basking in the glow of sunset from the top of a mountain. But, you know, I think that my dream - while a little selfish (okay, alot selfish) - was really, really nice.

Wow, when am I finally going to get some grilled shrimp? Maybe I will just break down and fix some tomorrow...

I Need Rest - Please!!!!!!!!

Here we go.....

It's late - for me. I'm tired. I can't sleep. And I'm awake all alone. Too many thoughts. Too many emotions. Too many jumbled thoughts and feelings - I can't tell them apart. I don't want to ever sleep. But I desparately need rest. The life growing inside of me is not asleep right now - he's moving and active. I can feel him move.

I look at how far I've come in life - and I wonder if I am the same person. How can someone change so radically and still be the same? Have I really changed - or has life just changed around me? I can't tell.

Maybe it is just my perceptions of myself that have changed. Maybe I am, somehow, remembering the person that I used to be in a light that is not necessarily the clearest. For example, I like to think of myself as being so much nicer in the past - so much more intelligent, so much more put-together, so much better dressed...And then I really remember myself - the more immature, more irresponsible, more naive version of me. So maybe I am changed, but is the core of me changed?

Do you know what I want right now? I want someone to take me in their arms and rest my head on their shoulder. I want them to pat my back and tell me, "Hey, it's okay. I know you better than you know yourself. You're the same old girl. You don't have to figure this out. I know all the answers about you." Okay, yeah, maybe there are people out there who could say this to a certain extent in the physical realm. But, you know what, there is that Voice that speaks to my heart. It's the One saying, "It's okay. You're that girl that I purchased with My Blood. I know you. I made you. You don't have to worry about anything. Put all of that worry on Me. Just relax. I have a plan for you. Just listen to My Voice, and everything will be okay."

God, thank you for knowing me. Psalm 139 keeps ringing through my heart. You "have searched me and You know me." God, "You are familiar with all my ways." God, please just cradle me in Your arms tonight - like a father would his newborn baby. I need Your peace and the rest that comes from You alone.

So I am in a different season of life. I am not the curly-haired little girl; the book-wormy and spit-in-the-face-of-wordly-conventions teenager; the quiet, studious, ever-aspiring-to-be-more-polished young college student; or the work-a-holic, fitness-freak, sometimes-crazy pharmacy intern. I am not even the idealistic, got-life-by-the-tale young bride that I was 7 months ago. I am in a transition state right now. I am transitioning into a role that will last me the rest of my life - that of mother. Oh, yeah, along with daughter, wife, friend, sister, neice...The list goes on forever, baby. And everyone has a demand on me. There are those who say I don't visit them enough. Those who are already saying that they don't get enough alone time with my baby. (Heck, I can't even get alone time with the baby - and it's in my stomach! It's not even born yet, people.) There are people who think that I don't like them - and I don't know why. People who don't like me - and aren't subtle about it. People I am trying to get to know - really know. People that I miss like crazy. And people who I wish I could forget... You get the picture.

I just wish that I could sit with my soul completely naked - stripped of all pretenses and responsibilities and insecurities - and just rest. I desparately need to rest. Maybe I'll try to sleep.

Hey, is it wrong if I hope for another dream about the charming man in the powdered wig with the grilled shrimp? I hope not. I would really, really love some grilled shrimp. ;)

Isn't It Romantic?

Early this morning...
I was transported back to my Greene Street days. Old Roomie was there, too. However, Greene St itself was much changed. A canal of water ran down the street. The houses on either side were separated from the water by wooden sidewalks. The houses themselves were also greatly changed. They resembled more those houses which may be found in Williamsburg than their normal, collegiate appearance.

I was returning home one evening, aided by the light of lanterns hung over the sidewalks. I was dressed in 18th century petticoats, jacket, and cape. I was carrying a basket of sewing, and it became apparent to me that I was returning home from my daily employment. As I entered the wooden, candle-lit abode of the Shack, Old Roomie with the gorgeous curly hair was also there - and also dressed in 18th century clothing. She had also just returned from her day spent nursing the sick of the town. There were two gentlemen and a lady leaving the residence. I paid them no heed, because I had seen them before. Besides, people are always coming and going from the Shack.

The lady was beautiful. Her perfect golden ringlets were pulled back with a ribbon and peeped out from the back of her feathered hat. Her dress, in contrast to the rest of the girls in my dream, was a beautiful gown made in the polonaisse pattern that gained such popularity among much more cultured society. The gentlemen that accompanied her were also dressed very well - in knee breeches and dark, dignified jackets. One of them tried to catch my eye through the window as he bowed and lifted his hat to reveal his powdered wig to me. I could only imagine that he would be mocking me - one of inferior social status. Therefore, I lifted my chin and turned my head until he passed.

That was when we found it - a scrolled note attached to a small arrow and pinned to the door. It was a note for me. Penned in perfect penmanship, the note explained that the gentleman had chance to observe my quarters at all hours that a waking breath may be drawn. After watching me from afar for some time, he had observed that I was the most "beautiful woman he had ever observed in face, word and deed." He was asking me , if I could at least return some small part of his feelings, to accompany him on a midnight gondola ride - with grilled shrimp (Yum!!) the next evening. He would wait for me in a designated spot. He was a perfect gentleman who was well thought of by all. I realized then that I loved him, too. And while I was reading the note, beautiful music was being played from heaven that fit the scene perfectly.

That was when I realized that my cell phone alarm was playing the music-box-like-tune to wake me up. Hubby isn't jealous at all. (I have my suspicions that he was probably the gentleman.) But, wasn't it beautiful? So close to a Mr.Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet moment.

(Huge Sigh....) Now, I really want some grilled shrimp....

I Am Angry

It seems that this has become my style now - the two posts a day routine. However, today, I have to use this outlet to express my anger at certain individuals that call themselves American.

I happened to be reading the news this morning when I came across a story about a protest at a funeral. This struck my curiousity. I am sorry - a funeral - any funeral - should be treated with the greatest amount of respect. However, it seems that there is a group of people in this country who feel that their small voices need to be heard - even while another family grieves the loss of a family member. My anger was intensified when I found that the deceased individual was an American soldier who had died while providing a service to his country.

Now, you can say alot of things about America. That's fine - as an American you have that right. You can talk about the way the government is run. You can talk about the corruption of our legal system. (Just ask Hubby. That's a favorite point of mine.) However, when you attempt to dishonor the name of one of our brave citizens who has the courage to put their lives on the stake for our freedoms - especially when you yourself do not have the backbone to join them in battle - that's when it goes a little too far.

A soldier fell in Iraq this week. And - this makes my blood runneth hot - an American pastor is going out of his way to protest at this young man's funeral. Why? Because this homophobe pastor who totally misses the whole heart of the gospel thinks that this young man who fought for his country and lost his life in the fight is promoting homosexuality. What happened to the fact that we serve a God who would eat with tax collectors and sinners? What happened to the fact that Christ would not even condemn the woman who was about to be stoned for being caught in the act of adultery? What happened to loving your neighbor and not judging them?

The soldier had a family - with a young daughter. She will never get to see her daddy on this earth again. This is her last chance to say goodbye to him. And a supposed "man of God" would take that away from her because there are homosexuals living in the land that her father was fighting to protect.

This raises the question - "WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO COMMON RESPECT AND COURTESY?" Why aren't people polite anymore? Really look for it in your surroundings today. Try to see if the people that call themselves "Christians" really possess that spirit of brotherly love that overflows into their relationships with others. Or rather - maybe we should all just take a look at ourselves. I know that I will be examining myself today.

Christ, help me to show Your love to others today.

So Much To Do

I can watch my baby move my belly around now. It's kind of creepy - but then it's also really special. The other day I watched him kick in a circular motion around my belly. I've also felt his little foot. I went for a walk with my parents last week, and he stuck his foot straight up into my belly. It was so awesome!

I have been consumed with daydreaming about how I am going to decorate the new house. When I realized that the vibrant, rich colors and unique patterns of French provencial were a little out of our budget, I decided to go with a cottage style. It means that I must be a little more creative, work a little harder, and spend a little less money. So, I am using an old window whose panes I painted a few years ago as artwork, and I'm recovering the furniture we already have. It's kind of fun just to use my creativity.
The dining room, I have decided, will be done in black and white. I want to group black and white photographs on the wall. I am desparately looking for black and white toile to make curtains out of. Chair covers will be tulle draped across the chair and tied with a black bow.

The nursery - I'm still haven't completely decided on that room. I know that I want to use various colors of baby blue. I want the walls blue, and maybe a blue gingham for the curtains. I want white furniture. But I did want to use some sort of subtle theme in the room. I am trying to decide between frogs or monkeys. The frog theme was originally going to dominate the room. But, then I just wanted something a little more relaxing. Then my little bro' came home with a monkey for Peanut. (My brother, by the way, has really surprised me with his excitement for his little nephew. He informed me the other day,"This baby's going to be spoiled - you know that, right?") That lead to the idea of decorating with monkeys. It is cute and original - and not girly at all. So, we'll see. Comment if you have any suggestions.

Wouldn't It Be Great?

I ache so badly, I cannot move. Hubby had a class on Saturday, so he has left me. And, I think that I like writing on my blog just a little too much. Oh, yeah, and I still have to wash clothes, pack boxes, and mop my kitchen.

So if I could have the perfect day this is what it would look like:
I would wake up at 6:30. It would be only slightly chilly. I would drink a cup of coffee, check on my baby, and go for a run - leaving Peanut in the room with Hubby, of course. I would get back to the house an hour later - sweaty and breathless - but in such a good mood. There is nothing better than having an early morning conversation with God while you run. By this time, I would wake Peanut up and let him sit in the living room and play with his toys while I kept an eye on him from the kitchen where I was preparing crepes with strawberries and whipped cream for breakfast. Hubby would wake up and come down to the kitchen - giving me a good-morning kiss on his way to the coffee. Hubby would put Peanut in his high-chair and feed him while I finished breakfast. Then we would just sit and talk over crepes and coffee.

We would jump into swim suits - all three of us - and head for my parent's pool. We would stay there until we were sun-burned and just plain tired of the cool refreshing water on a hot summer day. Then, we would go home and all get cleaned up. Peanut would take a nap while Mommy got all dressed up. I would do a few light chores around the house, and we would be making dinner reservations for that night. We would all go out to dinner - where, of course, little Peanut would behave like a saint. Waiters and waitresses alike would "ooh" and "ahh" over my baby. Then would come the evening. There is nothing like a long drive through the country on a hot summer night. Peanut would fall asleep in his car-seat. I would watch him sleep and enjoy the down-home goodness of salty peanuts in a bottled coke.

That night when we got home, Hubby and I would put little Peanut to bed. We would then enjoy the peace and comfort that comes from going to God in prayer as a couple. Then we would lay in the air-conditioned coolness of our room and read - and talk - until we fell asleep to the lullaby of tranquil silence.

I am sick - and pregnant. Which is no fun. When I finally admitted last night that I thought that I was getting sick again to Hubby, he asked me when it was going to be his turn. Bless his heart, we had hardly been dating a month when he and my mom were taking care of me last year when I was sick.

I am really, really tired. Last night, I swear that I was battling with Satan in my dreams. I have been finally being obedient to God about something He has been calling me to lately. I have quit trying to tell Him that He really doesn't want me to do it. I have finally quit telling myself that only fulfilling the minimum requirement of His request is enough. And I have been fought. I had this dream last night in which those that I love most first turned their backs on God, turned their backs on me, and then destroyed themselves. It was really awful. I woke myself and Hubby up screaming. I was so scared that I could not go back to sleep for over an hour. I just laid in bed and cried out to God - alot like I used to do when to my parents when I was scared as a child. And I heard this voice in my head warning me that if I kept being obedient, then more of these feelings would continue.

That's when I remembered Job. I refuse to back down from what God is calling me to do. Nothing is worth more to me than my absolute obedience to His voice. I know that the One Whom I serve has already won the war. I know that in the '90s spiritual warfare was a huge topic that was sensationalized and distorted. But, it is very real. We have to fight battles every day against an unseen enemy. I remembered Daniel - when God lifted the veil and he could see that there were twice as many angels as demons in field of battle. I refuse to be scared of the empty threats of an already defeated enemy.

Here is a verse to remember:
"You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them, because the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world." 1John 4:4

Therefore, I have no reason to tremble. If God is for us who can be against us?

By the way, the words to the song that the anonymous person who commented on my last blog suggested for me to listen to - they really touched my heart. I just wanted to say "thank you." I needed to be reminded of that.

Just Another Day

It's been a weird couple of days lately. I don't know what's going on. Alot of things. I just want to rest. I just want sunshine. I just want chocolate. And a nap curled up in the sun with my parent's two poodles. I want to have slightly sunburned, freshly shaved legs and a thick silky satin nightgown. (Isn't that a great feeling?) I want a cup of hot chocolate at IHOP at 2am - with extra chocolate chips and whipped cream. I want to be surprised - but I want to expect it. I want the satisfaction of a 5 mile run at a speed faster than I have ever run before. I want to curl my nose up in Hubby's neck and smell his cologne - Armani Mania - the kind he wore the night we went salsa dancing, and he wore when he first kissed me, and at our wedding...I want to taste the salt in the air and feel it on my sun-tan-oily skin. I want to dance in a sea of freshly cut grass. I want to dance for God and not care who sees. I want to hear my baby cry - and hear it stop crying when I hold it, and kiss it, and talk to it...I want to grill out with friends. I want to twirl around in a new dress until I get dizzy. I want to watch the sun set behind a line of trees. I want beach sand to burn my feet. I want to worship God in a group that I feel safe in. I want to be able to drop my guard in a group of people. I want to make something - to paint, quilt, crochet...I want to walk alone in a crowd. I want to pretend that bad and sin doesn't exist - that there is only good. I want fairy tales to come true for everyone. I want my friends to fall in love. I want fresh-cut roses after a hot, summer rain. I want blackberries to pick. I want to be four again so that my mom can paint my fingernails and rock me in the swing outside. I want to be so excited about something that I cannot sleep. I want to play football on a Sunday afternoon with my uncles and cousins. I want to splash through a puddle.

RANDOM THOUGHTS:

I need sleep. I need to rest mentally, physically, spiritually, and emotionally.

I wish that mothers would leave Santa Clause alone. No child really believes in Santa. Instead, mothers should instill into their children the fact that fairy tales do not exist.

Bella is CRAZY!

Landlords have no heart.

Sunshine makes everything seem so much better.

Old Roomie has a beautiful, beautiful soul - and gorgeous curly hair.

Baby boys are a blessing from God!

Ramen noodles are tasty and cheap.

The only perfect thing here on earth is God's love for us.

Why am I always so impetuous, and rash, and competitive?

A baby really does change everything.

Writing a 30 page paper on body image both challenges and upholds one's perception of beauty.

Life here with loved ones is extremely short and challenging.

I need to hear ocean waves.

I am Rosemary's granddaughter.

I cry when I am alone when I pray for people who are hurting.

Guinevierre and Lancelot are the sweetest poodle babies ever!

I am scared to death to die.

The sight and smell of pink roses makes me feel nostalgic.

I have never really held a baby.

Sometimes I think too much, and sometimes I don't think enough.

Wearing a full skirt makes me feel graceful.

I am desparate for God's grace. I cannot live without it.

All I really want is 20 acres of land and a swing under a huge oak tree. Oh, yeah, and my baby and a poodle. And some chocolate would be good, too. And lots and lots of sunshine.

He has showed you, O man, what is good.
And what does the Lord require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy
and to walk humbly with your God.

Micah 6:8

God, teach me the true meaning and application of this.