Waiting waiting...

So if you haven't noticed, my blog has been rather sparse for quite a while.  I have many excuses I suppose, but I won't bore you with them now; after all, what's the use?
As for trying to catch up, I doubt that's going to get this post posted, because of course there's too much to cover...(we've been over this before) but the real reason is that I haven't been very good at picture taking lately, or even of doing anything noteworthy at all.  We've been pretty boring around here.
To be honest, if I were to catalog what we've been up to for the last two months, I'd have to say it was about 25% sleeping, 15% eating unhealthy foods, 10% being sick and visiting doctors (seriously, one broken arm, three cases of strep, one case hand foot and mouth, one tonsillectomy, and one case of rotovirus, plus all the follow up visits as well as my many OB appointments, I think I averaged 2-3 visits to the Dr. per week over the last two months), let's see where were we? ... oh yes, 5% holiday stuff, and 45% TV and Video/Computer games.  You don't need pictures of that.  Just imagine all of us as zombies, and you'll have a pretty good idea of what it's been like.  Just imagine me as a really big pregnant zombie.  If I get around to downloading them, I may post a picture or two that I let my husband take one rare day when I was actually dressed and not in my bathrobe, but no promises.

As far as this baby goes, we're counting down the days.  Actually, I was hoping to be induced a few days ago on the 6th, just a week before the due date, but this baby won't be pushed around.  The other times I was induced, it was for medical reasons --hypertension, and a kidney stone, but this time was going to be purely for convenience --my husband has until next week off and I'd like him to be around to help.  So far, the powers that be don't think that's a good enough reason so my body has remained un-induceable with a floating baby and a not-even-close-to-effaced cervix, but maybe that's a little TMI.
Either way, this baby is coming on his own terms, not mine. It's probably foreshadowing his stubborn personality, but I'll try not to cast aspersions this early in our relationship.

In reality, I'm just a big complainer.  I  really do believe that things will all turn out for the best. In fact, I've already had one confirmation this week that my plans were not what God had in mind for me (a post for another day), so I'll just trust Him to keep ignoring my petty wants and impatient pleas and let Him do His thing. It always turns out better that way.

Melons

My babies have big heads.

It runs in the family.

My sister-in-law calls it our "German shaped heads," and indeed we do have German ancestors, but I don't know if one can speak in such generalities...

Okay, so based on principles of perspective and depth, the head sizes in this picture are all wrong,
I think you all know who's the German though. Coincidence? I think not.

Anyway, it makes for difficult deliveries, and sometimes I look at other people's newborns and think -"Man! That one would have been a cinch to give birth to!"

I was reading a lady's blog where she wrote a lovely article about how there is so much spiritual symbolism in the natural childbirth process, and how we were meant to go through pain and suffering when we bring children into this earth and so forth... (did I mention she's a doula or midwife or something?) However, I could only think how grateful I have been for epidurals and that if I hadn't been able to have those (and I still felt plenty of pain by the way) I would have been way too traumatized to appreciate the experience and I most likely would have resented my babies for causing me so much pain.  I applaud women who can have their babies naturally, and I try not to let it make me feel like less of a woman because I don't.  I'll just keep telling myself that their babies don't have as big of heads as mine do.

I have to admit, big heads make for really cute babies, if I do say so myself.

I love how when my baby bends over to pick something up it often ends up in an impromptu somersault.

Gotta love the bed-head too.

And I love how when he looks up at me too quickly he has to stagger backward a few paces just to keep his balance.

Babies are miracles however they are born, and everyone can have the deeply spiritual experience of knowing that this little spirit came straight from heaven and was meant for us to take care of regardless of whether we physically brought them into this world (with or without the blessings of modern medicine), or adopted them into our families.
Heaven knows the pain we mothers feel extends beyond the physical kind at delivery.  I think when Eve was cast out of the garden that perhaps some of the sorrow she would experience in bringing forth children wasn't just the physical kind but the kind that comes from watching them use, or should I say misuse, their agency --which was a direct result of the fall.
Still, she wisely chose to focus on the joy and happiness that her children brought her as well as the hope that the plan of redemption gave and she praised God (Moses 5:11-12).
What a wonderful example.

So, when life gives you lemons... just reverse the first three letters and you've got yourself something that's naturally sweet.

(I made that up all by myself.)

((I think I better go to bed.))

Anyway, I was just thinking of all my sisters and friends who are expecting right now (some sooner than others) and I wish them all the best! (plus small baby head circumferences ...not too small though).

Home sweet home

We have a home!  

Hey, it could be worse...

So, we moved, we survived.  I don't really want to go into all the details, nor am I going to bore you with pictures of the messy process again. I don't even know why we take those pictures; who wants to be reminded of that?  I will however get real pictures up as soon as I get around to it (hows that for commitment?).

Okay, two months later, I'm finally getting around to adding a real picture of our new house. Or at least the front door. Lovely isn't it? I love the roses.

I'm still getting over a terrible case of bronchitis (which the dr. was convinced was pneumonia, but the chest x-ray was inconclusive) which I'm sure was caused by all the wildfire smoke in the air combined with my weakened immune system from the stress of the move.   I think I get sick just about every move. Anyway, Now that we're settled, I'm finally back to blogging again.  Yay!

By the way, this was number 14 for us (15 if you count moving in together after we were married).  Yikes!  I'm surprised it went as smoothly --okay actually I'm not that superstitious.  And it was only smooth compared to the move exactly one year ago, (find that story here). One funny story though -- although this probably just shows what an airhead I am --  and I say funny, because I can laugh at it now, but at the time I balled, because I just couldn't handle it...

So after weeks of searching, I found a suitable rental for us to live in.  In fact, this particular property management place had several that seemed to fit our needs, and I could apply for them all with only one application, and one fee!  There was one in particular that I felt really good about and so had one of my good friends who lives in the area go check it out for me (long-distance house finding is such a pain, I'm glad I have friends here at least).  She liked it, I liked it,  and once our application was approved, I decided to choose that one.  One of the other possibilities happened to be just down the road, but I decided against it because it was a little more expensive and there were no trees in the backyard.

Well, when we got here and got the keys to go look at the property right before signing the lease, we drove up to our new rental and found that there were people living in our house!
Okay, so that was the first thing that crossed my mind anyway.  The second, and more rational conclusion I finally came to prompted me to look at the keys they had given me.  Sure enough, it was for the other house on the same street, just one number of the address was different.
I don't know where the mistake happened along the way, whether it was my fault or theirs, but what a shock!  I mean, I had been prepping the boys by telling them about the few features I knew about the house --like for example: the purple carpets, and the nearby bike path, and I had even thought ahead for once and changed our address with the post office and all our banks and such to that address. *smacks head*

Well, obviously we couldn't kick those other people out, and the property management place refused to work with us when it came to the higher rent, saying that if we didn't want the house, they'd sell it to someone else tomorrow.  (Yeah, they knew the position we were in --car full of tired kids, all our stuff in a truck, and a storage unit that needed to be emptied that day.)  They wouldn't take any responsibility for the mistake whatsoever or even be sympathetic. Grrr.

The happy ending is that we find ourselves in a really nice house actually.  In fact, our stuff is almost too shabby for this place. It's newer and bigger than the other, with automatic sprinklers, and I figure we won't mind not having any shade in the backyard during the winter --I might not even have to rake leaves this Fall.

Either way, we have a house...with a roof, and walls, and doors, and that's what matters.  The kids love having a room separate from the baby, and I love having a room period (yeah, the futon in the living room wasn't really doing it for me).  Not to mention our own bathroom and walk-in closet --which are two luxuries we've never had and I hardly know what to do with all this space!

It's finally starting to feel like home, and although I miss the beautiful mountains and cool fresh air and all our friends in Wyoming, I think we'll be happy here.  :)

At least until we move again next year.   :P

Divergent Paths

A funny thing happened at our family reunion.  And I'm just going to say right now, that it wasn't anybody's fault, and I'm not blaming or accusing anyone of negligence.

The plan was, to go for a hike to a local waterfall.  We had discussed two different waterfalls, one of which was familiar to me, but the other was decided upon since it was a shorter hike and we had many small children.

(photo credit: "Gathering Clouds" by cousin Liam.)

As we drove, following the other cars of our family, the clouds began to gather.  A few drops began hitting the windshield, but we hoped it would blow over before we got to our destination.  As we got closer though, and pulled into the parking lot, it was pouring.  Water was streaming down the windshield as I made a mental inventory of what we had in the car --umbrellas? nope, ponchos? nope.  We had hats and jackets though to keep the rain off, and even some dry clothes for the baby when we got back.  At first we thought maybe we could wait to see if it let up a little, but time was short and it didn't look like it would stop anytime soon.  As family members ventured out to decide whether to return or forge ahead, I seriously considered turning back. Some families with babies and small children understandably did, but we had come all this way, the kids had been excited about it --okay, so maybe they weren't so sure once they saw the rain, I'm afraid it took a little prodding-- and now that I think of it, perhaps I had something to prove --to them, to myself, I don't know.

As we gathered our stuff, and put jackets on the kids, I saw the other members of our family proceeding out of the parking lot toward the trailhead and out of sight.  I figured they had assumed we would turn back too, having a baby and two small kids all, but I was made of tougher stuff than that.  I tried to hurry, but in the usual fashion of trying to go anywhere, it took us a few more minutes to get all ready and on our way.

We followed in the direction we had seen the others go, but the only trailhead we saw was the trailhead for the longer hike to the falls I was familiar with.  I supposed they had changed their minds, or perhaps there was a turnoff to the other falls... obviously our communication had been spotty at best, so off we went hoping for the best.

 After a little bit of hiking fast and not catching up, I began to doubt myself.  Neither of us had seen any other trail, but surely they weren't that far ahead of us, or going very fast.  We passed other hikers coming down the mountain, most of which were soaked through and looked incredulously at us for starting such a hike in the pouring rain with three little kids.  We finally asked some ladies if they had seen a large group of people hiking up the mountain ahead of us.  They replied, "yeah --with all the kids?" and we nodded, knowing that that had to be them, and we asked, "About how far ahead of us are they? "  The ladies looked at each other and agreed, "about fifteen minutes?"  We thanked them and went on our way, rolling our eyes at the exaggeration. They couldn't possibly be that far ahead of us.

Notice the drop of rain dangling from his earlobe, we were soaked.

The baby was hardly amused.

We kept hiking at a pretty grueling pace.  We were determined to catch up.  It was a lot to ask of a 3 year old and a 5 year old, but they did pretty well.  They had fun dodging the mud puddles (or not dodging them), and seeing the wet butterflies clinging to the flowers, waiting for the sun to come out and dry them.  I'm afraid we didn't take much time to enjoy the scenery, because we were on a mission to find our family and enjoy the hike together with them.

Well, after a while I started doubting again.  We asked some more passersby about the big group of people with lots of kids ahead, and they said they were about 10 minutes ahead.
So much for exaggerations. Perhaps I had just underestimated how long it took us to get ready, as usual, and they really were that far --but at least we were catching up!
There were a few other young college-age groups that passed us from behind, going up the mountain, so I figured our pace couldn't be all that grueling --after all the kids have short legs, and I'm not in peak condition myself, so I thought well, maybe if they knew we were back here, they would slow down and we could catch up to them. So I asked one of these groups of young people to "tell the big group of people ahead --the one with all the kids-- that there's a little family coming behind them" in case they wanted to wait up. The college kids agreed and hiked out of sight.  Surely, that would help us find them.

About this time, the rain stopped, but the kids started getting whiny, especially the baby.  My husband had to take him out of the baby backpack and carry him, which meant we couldn't hold both kids hands  and there was a lot more slipping and falling going on. We were covered in mud. I could also feel a blister forming on the inside of my heel, and we were getting pretty tired.  We asked the next group of people coming down the trail about how much farther to the falls, and they said we were about half-way.  

yeah.

Well, there was no going back now.  We had come this far, we were going to go all the way. Besides, now that we had notified our family that we were coming, they would worry if we didn't show up.

The clouds lifted and the surrounding vistas showing us just how high we had hiked gave us an extra boost.  Although the trail started heading slightly downhill, we slowed a little making our way down the slippery trail, being careful not to touch the stinging nettle that surrounded us.

We crossed a few rock slides, asked some more people about the big group ahead of us --five minutes this time-- (perhaps they hadn't gotten our message?) and finally we could see the falls in the distance.  That was enough to keep us going.

After hiking a bit longer, finding an exotic-looking bug, and expecting to see our family around every turn, we finally, gratefully, heard the sound of the falls.  We climbed down some steep stony places on the trail and came to the rocky outcropping that serves as the perfect lookout in front of the falls.

No family.

We heard voices, so we peeked over the cliff's edge to where the trail heads down to the river below at the base of the lower falls.  Sure enough, there were lots of people down there

 --A tae kwon do team taking pictures below the falls,

literally, below the falls.

The college students who had passed us,

and then there was a group with lots of kids,

(sorry for the terrible picture quality, some of these were taken from videos.)

but to our astonishment and utter disappointment, it wasn't our family!

We had been following the wrong large group of people with kids this whole time, and our family was nowhere to be found!
As this sunk in, we realized that we must've been on the wrong trail from the very beginning -although we hadn't seen any other trails anywhere.
We were so confused, and felt rather sheepish about the whole thing (not to mention the mysterious message we had sent ahead to complete strangers).  After explaining and re-explaining things to the kids, we all finally accepted the fact that we were on our own, and decided to make the most of it.

The falls were exquisite.  They were also a lot bigger than I had remembered.  

My poor hat went all soggy and limp in the rain.

The other pictures don't really show how big the falls are, but to put it into perspective,
the orange, white, and blue dots back there are the college students from the previous picture.

The kids were duly impressed (well, maybe not the baby), and we considered lingering and exploring some more, but we were dirty, wet, and hungry and had to get back to cook dinner for everyone that evening.

The hike down was dryer, and we took off our jackets as the sun came out --making the forest steamy and aromatic.  We decided that although we were tired and wanted to get back, we could take our time and enjoy the way down since we weren't trying to catch up to anyone.  The butterflies began dancing about and we got out some snacks and water I had thought to bring at the last moment.  It was a beautiful day after all, and we were glad we came, despite the difficulty and the disappointment of not being with our extended family.

(photo credit: "Sundance Fireweed", by my five year old)

The baby grew sleepy and still refused to go back in the backpack, so in a stroke of ingenuity (if I do say so myself), I wrapped my jacket around me and the baby, having my husband tie the sleeves behind me, fashioning a kind of sling.

I was able to carry the baby like that down the rest of the mountain comfortably and he soon fell asleep on my chest.  It was the sweetest thing ever.

The kids, who were troopers but nonetheless worn out, took turns being carried by their dad down the rest of the mountain. The hike back actually seemed to go faster than the hike to the falls -probably because I enjoyed it a bit more, and I wasn't trying so hard to catch up, expecting our destination around every corner, only to be disappointed each time.

It was still tiring though, and by the time we reached the parking lot we were ready to be done.

As we reached the car, I wondered what the others had thought when they saw that our car was still there, for surely they had figured we had turned back and gone home.  In the parking lot, there was a forest ranger and we asked her about the trails and waterfalls.  Sure enough, right at the very beginning of the trailhead, we had missed the gravelly turnoff to the other falls.

In case you were wondering, this is where the rest of the family ended up.  Not all are pictured.

In the end, we had gone a mile further than the others, but according to the ranger, we had been rewarded with a more scenic hike and falls.


All in all, for our little family unit, it turned out to be the most unifying part of the reunion.  We pushed hard through difficult circumstances, achieving an amazing goal and surprising ourselves by what we were capable of, and in the process made memories of our glorious adventure to the "wrong falls."

There could be a number of analogies made in conjunction with this story. Perhaps about how we often spend all our time trying to catch up to others, when all along we are each on our own paths with our own unique destinations.  Or how we often forget to enjoy the journey when we're too impatient or preoccupied with the end goal. Or maybe even something about how the best things in life require the greatest sacrifices, etc. etc. etc....

I don't know.

They're all good analogies, and ones that I could easily apply to my own life.

Our journey is definitely our own, and I find that I am only unhappy when I compare my life to others and begin to think that I want what they have.  I mean, sure it would be nice to settle down and have a house, but then I might miss out on all these other great experiences and wonderful people that I wouldn't meet otherwise.  I hope that my kids are stronger and closer to each other because of it.  The amount of toys they have or the size of their room won't matter, but they'll have great memories of all the different places we've lived and fun things we've done on this glorious adventure that is our life.
It's our story: moving from place to place, scrimping and saving to get by, working hard through a Master's and PhD, not waiting to have a family, hoping and praying that the end reward will be worth the sacrifice, and (for the most part) enjoying every minute of it.

Progress

Not bad for a phone camera eh? Still, a new one is on its way. Yay!

Do you ever have those times when your life feels like you're walking up a 'down' escalator?  Or that for every two steps you take, you slide backwards one?

We went to the sand dunes for a small family outing.  It was fun, but man those last three yards to the top were about the end of me.  It was super steep, and with every step there was a mini avalanche that would bury my feet and shoes and I'd find myself standing just about where I started.  If I hadn't had the baby strapped to my front, I probably would have tried crawling on all fours.

Luckily, my wonderful husband (after already pretty much carrying the two boys to the top) was there to hold my hand and support me as we struggled together to the top. He didn't just cheer from above, or even just reach down and pull me up to join him.  He was right there next to me helping me, as he struggled to keep his footing as well, and together we made it.

Since our third child has joined us and I've been dealing with health issues, as well as possible post-baby emotional issues, life has felt like an uphill struggle.  Whether it's housework, or callings, or lifestyle changes, or keeping up with three kids ages four and under... my life often appears as an impossibly steep mountain that threatens to bury me with each step.
Luckily, I don't have to do it all by myself.
I've been so blessed to have a wonderful husband who isn't above helping me with what some may see as "my job."

He could come home from work and say, "Well, I've done my job, time to relax!" and scorn me for not doing my job very well because the house is messy or dinner's not ready right when he comes home.  Or he could see me floundering and piously think, "If we could only trade jobs for a day, I'd show her how it's done..." and maybe blitz the house for good measure to make it look clean (getting angry when it doesn't stay that way for very long) all the while acting like a martyr.

No, I am proud to say my husband is truly amazing. He is right there in the trenches with me.  He cleans, does laundry, gets up with the children and feeds them breakfast so I can sleep in, watches them so I can go grocery shopping alone, and he even reads them scriptures and puts them down at night.  (Sheesh, this is making me feel a little inadequate.  Just to be fair, I am usually feeding the baby at those times, and I'm the one getting up in the night with the kids).  He has even come to grips with his original misconceptions that once something is cleaned it will stay that way forever, and learned that 'my job' is an unending one.

I would feel really inadequate if I thought he did all those things better than I do, but he's so thoughtful and considerate of my feelings that he occasionally makes mistakes, like breaking dishes and setting stains and putting the kids in mismatched (if not each other's) clothes, just to make me feel better.  :)

Someday, I'll get back on top of things, and be able to help him be the amazing English professor that he dreams of being.  However, I'm so glad that he chooses to put his family first.  --and to all those students waiting for their unit one papers...  just be patient, he's a lot more lenient when he feels like he's neglected you, so no more whining.

Hey you.  Happy 6th anniversary.

Who Needs It Anyway?

Notice anything different about me?

I don't have a gall bladder!


Yeah, so as we were moving ... like on the way to our new home in Idaho, I started having another pain in my stomach area.  At first I thought it was just indigestion from the Wendy's I had eaten, but honestly, if that is what indigestion really felt like, the people who get it all the time would shoot themselves.  By 1:00 in the morning, I was in the E.R.

They sent me home.

After doing some tests, the doctor was sure he had found my problem --a raging UTI (raging was their word).

Now I may not be an anatomy major, but I think I know where my bladder is, and it is not up under my ribs where this pain was emanating from.

So, I took his pain prescription (some narcotics that made it unsafe to breastfeed my baby) and the doctor referrals (although they didn't do me much good since it was Sunday) and went home.

Well, the powerful pain meds didn't do much, and I spent the whole day writhing in agony.  We called around to the other doctors offices, and to my brother who's a doctor in Washington, and got the same answer.  Everything points to the gall bladder, and we should have had some imaging done -- an ultrasound or something.

So, we went back to the E.R. and demanded an ultrasound.

They admitted me for immediate surgery.

Although there was no infection, my gall bladder was terribly inflamed and there were several stones.

Great, more stones.  But at least I felt validated once again.

Can I just say to that E.R. doctor, "I TOLD YOU SO!"

So I just spent the last few days in the hospital again.

So now you ask, "What did you do with your three children while you were supposed to be moving in to a new home and your husband was supposed to be starting his first days of work?"

Well, that's where the blessings come in.

So, I know I was feeling a little whiny the last time I posted, I hope this doesn't come across as more of the same... but no, that housing never did go through.  We wasted $80 and a week of our lives together on that, but it didn't pan out.  I finally gave up and went back to a place we had found weeks before --luckily it was still available-- and within one day, it was ours.  My mother came and helped me pack and clean, my husband came home and we filled the moving truck, and we were off.

Well, if we had gotten that housing that we had been trying for, and moved on the 11th like we had planned, my mom wouldn't have been here when the gall bladder attack hit.  I honestly don't know what I would have done without her.  She was a Godsend, and I'll be forever thankful for all her hard work.  I mean, it was enough that she packed my things and scrubbed my walls and floors, but then she drove my car to Idaho, sat with me in the E.R. in the middle of the night ...twice... and while I was gone took care of my children and got up with the baby all through the nights to feed and change him. Oh, and she did my laundry and dishes the whole time she was here.

That was definitely a tender mercy of the Lord.  The fact that she could even come and stay for longer than planned, was truly a blessing.

We've had so many blessings.

We were more than lucky.  The attack could have happened earlier in the day on that long car ride to Idaho, and I would have been in misery the whole way. I was completely worthless the moment I got to our new place-- not being able to do much beyond lying on the floor in pain.

I don't know what we would have done without my husband's brother and his wife to help move boxes and furniture out of the moving truck, and to give us a wonderful dinner that lasted two days.

I'm so grateful for my sister-in-law who came to take my two older kids for a day so my husband could get things moved in and my mom could get a rest.

I'm also grateful for my in-laws who are coming this weekend to take care of us for a few days.  The kids love them, and it will be a welcome distraction.

There were so many little things too.  It just so happens that we live a block away from the hospital, which made it a lot easier to find.  I'm also so glad that the baby took a bottle and formula for the first time so well, since I had never tried before this weekend. People from our Church, who we've never even met, are already set up to help take the kids while my husband is at work as soon as the in-laws are gone too. What a blessing!

Someone might ask, "Why did all this have to happen right now, at the worst possible time?" and feel that I've been very picked on.  I admit, I might have thought something like that once or twice... but you know, difficult things just happen, and there is really no good time.

I'm just glad that He softened this difficult time with so many blessings.

Pod Mostem

On my mission in Poland, I lived in an apartment that was right next to a big bridge that went over a major river.  We were kind of below and to the side of it since it was raised up with small shops and parking lots underneath it, but the only way I could describe where we lived in the language was to say that we lived "pod mostem," or beneath the bridge.  Well, one day when I used this expression, some Polish people laughed at me.  They explained that to say you live "pod mostem" was to say you were homeless.  I don't think they could imagine an American being homeless, since all the Americans they knew were quite wealthy by their standards, not to mention that most of their knowledge about America came from Hollywood.

This is the actual bridge in Warsaw. This was practically the view from our front door.

I saw so many homeless people in Poland.  So many begging on the streets, or sleeping on cardboard boxes in the train stations.  It was a big eye opener, and really put things into perspective.  It made me more grateful for what I had, but it also made me really wonder why I had been so blessed.  Why had I been born in a free country, to a family who loved me, and had the blessing of the restored gospel?  I actually felt guilty sometimes.  I mean, what had I done to deserve it all?  I really have no reason to ever whine.

I've been feeling kinda sorry for myself lately.  I've been way stressed out because we were supposed to move this week, but the housing situation we are trying to get into is taking longer than we anticipated.  It's still not a sure thing, and time is running out.  If we do get it, we will be lucky if we can move in next weekend.  In the meantime, my husband is going to have to leave me here all alone, with two kids and a brand new baby, to pack up our house while he attends orientation meetings and such for his work.  He'll come back just in time to help us pack the moving truck and drive back there.  Honestly, just having a new baby and two toddlers is enough to overwhelm me, but to add all that on top of it? ...yeah.

So today, I am counting my blessings.

1. At least we have a home.  We're lucky to be able to stay here until the housing goes through ...and it's free!  What a blessing!
2. At least I have a husband.  Even though he'll be away, it's not a permanent thing --I couldn't ever imagine being a single parent.
3. We are so blessed to have family and friends nearby that can help out, whether it's a grandmother lending my husband a car so he can get where he needs to be and not leave me car-less, or a mother who can come and help me with the cleaning and packing, or neighbors who can watch the kids, or family to help us move in to our new house.  We are so blessed.
4. At least I have my health.  Now that the kidney stone and the pregnancy are over, I'm glad to be free of pain, and am starting to feel a little bit of my energy come back.  Sure, I'm tired all the time from lack of sleep, and still recovering, but overall I'm feeling good.
5. My kids are healthy too.  In fact, they're a little too rambunctious and energetic for me these days, but I wouldn't have it otherwise.

I could go on about money and freedom and the gospel etc., but this has served it's purpose.  Now I don't feel so sorry for myself.

Isn't it great what a little gratitude can do?

Oh yeah, one last thing.
6. At least I don't have to cook dinner tonight because it is being brought to us by members of our ward.  The Relief Society sisters have been bringing us dinner every other night for the last two weeks since the baby was born, and it's been wonderful!

I have to admit, I didn't have that with the last two babies, because 1- we moved right after our first was born and I don't think anyone knew about us, and 2- I was too stubborn and proud to allow people to help with the second.

I've learned my lesson though.  Bless and let bless.  I love making dinners for other people when they need it.  Why should I deny myself the blessings others would like to share, and why should I deny them the opportunity of blessing us, and receiving blessings themselves? --just so I can show everyone that I've got it together?  that I can handle what I've gotten myself into? that I can do it on my own?  That doesn't make any sense.

This time though, I don't pretend to have it all together, and I'm not exactly sure what I've gotten myself into, and I know I can't do it all on my own... but I do know that this is what the Lord intended for me, and He is helping and will help me to do it-- mostly through the service of others.

Not only am I not homeless, but I'm also not alone.

Why am I so blessed?