seven pounds three ounces and beautiful: installment one

I finished working at Starbucks on Friday November the eleventh.  After a year with the company, I was sad to say goodbye to the many friendships I had developed, but not the retail world.  Zach and I decided that the strange hours and inconsistent shifts in the coffee business would not be ideal for us once we brought a baby home, so I had put in a notice months before.

My actual due date was November the twenty-second and since I just knew that our girl would come late, I was planning to tackle a to-do list that had been growing for about as long as her.  At my thirty-eight week appointment the doctor even acted a bit shock that I was quitting work "so early".  Obviously having never been nine months pregnant while working six-eight hour shifts on his feet, he assured me that the baby and I were quite healthy and welcome to work until the actual birth.  Needless to say, I stuck to the plan.

Zach and I had the most relaxing weekend, I remember.  That Friday night I hung out with the some girls from college at a jewelry party.  Afterwards, a big group of our college friends got together to watch a UFC fight at someone's house.  At one point I got up to use the restroom, and remember having to steady myself at the feeling of a strong false contraction.  For days, I had felt my stomach restricting and tightening but for a moment I thought this one might be "it".  Zach was a bit freaked out when I told him about it on the way home, but all was well..

I remember this was the first Saturday in months that both Zach and I were off of work.  We relaxed for much of the day.  I continued to list and prioritize all the things I was going to get done the following week.  I had more braxton hicks, but nothing felt like the real thing.  In fact, I had told several people that I was afraid I wouldn't recognize labor when it happened and was sincerely hoping that my water actually broke when the time came (even though my research had told me that something like only ten percent of women have their water break on its own).

Sunday, we went to church as usual but had to leave a bit early because we were meeting friends for lunch to celebrate a birthday.  This resulted in several text messages and phone calls inquiring as to whether or not we were leaving early to go to the hospital.  I learned, while pregnant, that you can not vary your usual routine much without getting questioned about your welfare.

After birthday lunch, we went to the mall of all places.  We very rarely go to the mall, but I had mentioned to Zach that I wanted to see the "Christmas hustle and bustle" (in early November) and we had a few friends that were working that day.  We walked for a bit and said hello, before heading home.

That evening we made plans to meet friends at Starbucks for coffee.  This has become typical Sunday night practice for us, and as a nice treat a close friends of ours from high school was in town.  He tagged along, and afterwards came back to our house to play Bananagrams. 

Its funny, this friend of ours made mention of the fact that he would be in town for only two days and it would be nice if I would go ahead and have this baby so that he could meet her.  He was one of several friends and family members who had let me know what time would be convenient for them to celebrate Piper's arrival, and wouldn't you believe I actually met every one of their demands.

Anyways, before leaving he jovially asked Zach if he had begun saving for college.  For some reason this struck Zach, because after saying goodbye to our friend he got very serious.  He looked at me and said, "we are actually bringing home a baby in a couple of weeks...."

We both dozed off on the couch that night, our last night of normalcy, thinking of the way that our lives would be changing in the near future.  How near that future, was beyond us.

this is where we will be tomorrow night

you should be there too.

happiest of birthdays, paw paw!!

We love you!

the knorrs

We got a call late Friday night.

Saturday we were on our way to Savannah with a friend and the little one in tow.

One of our dearest friends, Patrick, lost his dad to cancer this weekend.  Patrick and Andy were Zach's roommates in college.  Those three were quite the team, and each time they get together its like they never stopped being roommates.  Us wives, the roommates that got "in the way", just sit and watch.  Amused.

We all expressed some level of nerves as we got closer to seeing Patrick, and his sweet wife, Ashley, less than twenty-four hours after losing his father.  What could we possibly say to make the pain go away?

If there is one thing I learned this weekend, it's that video games in which you divide the screen and shoot at each other soothe all sorts of hurts.  And that we can't make the pain go away.

The trip was quick.  Down on Saturday.  Back on Sunday.  But, boy, was it manna to this soul.

In case you were wondering, Sweet P was a champ for her first overnight/out of state trip.  We fed her right before leaving, and she slept the entire four hours down to Savannah.  She was a hit with the family (and our young, married, and baby feverish friends).  We were so impressed, we might just do more of this traveling thing.  I sure hope so.

sag

marion piper two month stats

We visited our pediatrician yesterday morning for baby girl's two month well-child check-up.  Piper had to get three shots in her little leg and we she only cried a little bit.  That's my tough girl.

Dad pretended to have an important call and stepped out of the room for the needles.  I can't say I blame him, not wanting to see his little girl in pain.  He still looks over at her approximately four times a day, breathes a heavy sigh, and says, "Man, I love that girl."  Those two are thick as thieves, I tell ya.

She was cheesing and smiling for our doctor, and had everyone impressed with her head control and alertness.

Now for the fun stuff.  Number crunching and some of my own observations thus far.

• Piper weighed in at a whopping nine pounds, eight ounces.  She is in the tenth percentile for weight, so she's just a bit of a shrimp.  But she has gained well over two pounds since she was born.
• Homegirl is now twenty-three inches long, which is in the sixtieth percentile for height.  Up from nineteen inches at birth.
• The circumference of her noggin is thirty-eight and a half centimeters, which happens to be right at about the fiftieth percentile.  Strangers often comment on the "perfect" shape of her head, and one even asked me if I had her, and I quote, "by c-section or regular?".
• MPG is a pretty easy-going baby.  Usually if she is crying, it is because she is hungry.  She rarely fusses otherwise.
• She is beginning to bare weight on her legs, with our help of course.  And those legs are always moving.  She LOVES to kick.
• Like I said, she is a pro at holding her head up and looking around.  In fact, unless she is sleeping or eating she does not like to be laying down.  
• Piper has begun really focusing on objects, or people's faces.  She loves to smile at silly voices or faces, and the cooing...heavens the cooing is enough to melt your heart.
• Don't tell anyone, but I may have taught her how to stick out her tongue.  At first she would mimic me doing it, and now sometimes she does it first.  It adorable right now, but will have to be addressed at a later date.
• She just discovered this dangling monkey on her play mat, and gets absolutely tickled herself when she hits it and hears the rattle inside.   

We are falling more in love with this kid each day.  We are daily thanking the Lord for His goodness and His faithfulness in our lives, and praying that He would save Marion Piper at a young age.

I'm thinking that I would like a written account of her birth, before the memory leaves me entirely.  I may take the next couple of posts to share that.

sag

rambling wednesday

It's a rubberband.  I saw it on Pinterest.  Back up off of me.  This is the sort of thing I love about morning time around here.  I've missed this over the past couple of months.  We drink our coffee and we stare dreamily at our baby girl and we get snarky.  And we perhaps look a little unkempt, except Ike.  He always looks his best.

I wrote this great big blog post yesterday.  It was sage advice.  It contained the secret of the lost city of Atlantis.  It was epic.  But you'll never know that, because once I got it just right the internet gods decided against it.  The whole thing froze up.  I panicked and refreshed the page.  Not a thing had been saved.  And you can't just come back from that.

I talked about this.  And how Zach reached over and grabbed my hand as soon as our eyes met this sight.
 

Time with friends.  And fellowship with people who really love Jesus.  They love Jesus like I wish I did. 

And then I went and took inventory of the pantry.  I decided at the last minute to change up my entire grocery list for a pantry challenge.  This basically means we will only buy meats, fresh produce, and things that spoil for the next couple of weeks.  It means that we are going to use what we already have.  It means that Zach may be coming home to some interesting meals in the next several weeks.

But last night, went like this.

From the pantry I used a half a box of vegetable penne and part of a can of diced tomatoes.  To that I added chicken and fresh mushrooms.  A dash of olive oil and some spices, and voila.  Day one is a success, judging by the fact that there weren't leftovers.  I'll keep you guys posted.

hello again

I forgot to mention another one of my guilty pleasures.  It is youtube videos.  When I was pregnant, I was obsessed with watching the videos where soldiers surprise their families by coming home.  total.sob.fest.  Zach would come home from work to find me all swollen-eyed and red-nosed and just give me a knowing smile.

Now I normally have a firm no youtube posting/sharing/emailing of any kind policy.  But I am willing to make an exception here.

This is incredible.  And my claim to fame is that I actually went to high school with one of the "back up" dancers.

Remind me some time, and I 'll show the video of our wedding dance.  It may or may not be this cool.  But probably not.

she dared me to do it

I think that this girl and I are kindred spirits, so when she asks what the "currents" are in this land, I am happy to oblige.  Enjoy.

current guilty pleasure:  Dance Central 2 for the Kinect...especially the part where the game tells me to "break it down".  Don't mind if I do.
current nail color:  I lack whatever gene most women have that gives them the ability to paint their fingernails...and read Twilight.
current playlist:  I just put the finishing touches on a new running playlist entitled "Beach Buns".  Oh how I love a good playlist, since I am perfectly incapable of listening to an entire album by the same artist.  Here is a random selection:

• Maybe I Will, Julia Nunes
• Run Around, Blues Traveler
• Life in Technicolor, Coldplay
• Time To Say Goodbye, Andrea Bocelli & Sarah Brightman
• Come and Worship, Bebo Norman
• This Too Shall Pass, OK Go
• Sigh No More, Mumford & Sons
• Rumpus, Karen O and the Kids

current read:  Tim Keller's The Meaning of Marriage:  Facing the Complexities of Commitment with the Wisdom of God
current drink:  Peppermint White Mocha
current food:  Toasted blueberry bagel with ham and cream cheese.  Don't judge, just try it. 
current favorite show:  The Biggest Loser just started and, since I'm a glutton for crying my eyes out, I can't get enough of it.  And How I Met Your Mother is, of course, our go-to show.  People tell my I'm like Lily, except she is my least favorite character.  Perhaps there is something there...
current wish list:  world peace.  and this giant wall map.  love it.  
current needs:  In all honesty, we have everything we need.  I am so blessed.
current triumphs: I went skiing last weekend.  I was doubtful that I would be able to get back out there after having both a human and a galbladder removed recently, but I did it and I had a blast!   
current bane of my existence:  See yesterday's post.
 
current celebrity crush: Neville Longbottom.  Perhaps my favorite underdog in all of children's literature.  And I knew back when he had chubby cheeks and was constantly losing his toad...
  
that he was destined for greatness.  Wait, does this crush have to be a real person?
  
current indulgence: afternoon cuppa joe.  I worked at Starbucks for a year, and drank very little coffee.  Now I sometimes drink it twice.
current blessing:  A happy and healthy family.  God has been so good to us.
 
current outfit:  PJs.  It's 8:30 in the morning, so that is appropriate.  Although, if you check back with me at 2 o'clock this afternoon, my answer might be the same.
current excitement:  I'm not cooking tonight.  The boss said we can go wherever I want for dinner!  
current mood:   twitterpated
 
current link: Pinterest.  I'm a relatively new pinner [pinter? pinterester?...Oh, I got it PINTRESS..], but I am obsessed.  Here is the first fruit of my DIY board.

There you have it.  I'm a little embarrassed at how long I spent on this one. 
sag

being real

The heavens heard our cries and the sun came out today.  Unfortunately, I am still finding myself reflecting the attitude of storm clouds.

We are in a funk over here.  I am in a funk over here.  Not even these have been able to cheer me up.

It's easy to read someone's blog and think that their life is perfect.  They never have a messy house, or go a day without showering.  Every evening they put a perfectly nutritious and delicious meal on the table at exactly five, and they always dress for dinner.

In the same way, it is easy to have conversations with fellow believers in which we just give "blog posts" of the goings on in our lives.  I was thinking about this last night after our small group met.  Our church doesn't have a fancy name for it; they're just called small groups.  There I go being snarky.

Anyways, we were talking about the importance of discipline in daily spending time in prayer and reading the bible.  And things got real.  I absolutely love each of the people in our small group, and I absolutely love the genuine fellowship that we have.  They aren't going to let me give a "blog post" answer about how much time I spend reading and praying.  There isn't time to edit my responses, or to read and re-read what I'm saying.  I simply have to be honest with them and say that I don't spend the time I should in the scriptures and communing with the Lord but I wish I did, and trust that they as participants in the christian life understand.

So after going to sleep last night feeling so encouraged, and hopeful about the upcoming year...why did I wake up today feeling so discouraged and hopeless to make any changes in my life. 

Sweet P barely slept last night.  Or maybe she did, and I didn't.  For some reason, it was as if we were back at square one.  I got up at every noise that she made.  And she was a restless sleeper, which is a far cry from the routine we have settled into.

Today, she has been fussy and insatiable.  She hasn't napped like she normally does, and none of our usual methods of consoling her have seemed to do the trick.

And the dog.  For heaven's sake, that dog.  I truly believe that he knows when it would be the most inconvenient for him to start acting up, and he runs over to Piper's car seat, grabs her hat or blanket, then goes to hide under the table so he can chew on it.  You know the more I think about it, the more I wish that you could see the theatrics that ensue.  They usually involve me trying to use the dining room chairs to barricade him on both sides, before crawling under the table myself.  What's funnier than that would have been the sight of me crawling after him at nine months pregnant.

But Piper and Ike aren't the problem.  I am the problem.  My sorry attitude is the problem.  My allowing myself to be quick to anger in stressful situations is the problem.

Lord, why I am so prone to anger?  Why do I care so much about having a spotless house, if it isn't filled with love you You and love for others?

I got very little done today in the way of checking things off of a to-do list.  But that's not important right now.  What's important is that the Lord gently reminded me of His love for me in creation.  He convicted me of my wandering heart.  He continues to sanctify me, because Ike will always want to steal things and hide under the table.  And I am praying that He will show me how to love like He does, starting with my husband and my daughter...and by golly that dog.

sag

raindrops on roses

I actually love rain.  I love listening to pitter-patter on the roof when everyone is asleep and the rest of the house is quiet.  I enjoy driving through a storm, provided I have nowhere to go.  During summer rains, we have been known to take evening meals in our rocking chairs on the front porch.  And of course we can all attest to the bliss that is donning your most holey pair of sweatpants, crawling as deep as you possibly can under a blanket, and watching as much Sense & Sensibility as the men in your home will allow at the first sign of wet weather.

I'm pretty sure that Edward Ferrars is the dreamiest and most noble character in all of Jane Austen's works chick-flic land.  Make no mistake, I am not referring to Hugh Grant.  I am referring to Edward Ferrars.  There is a difference.  But that is beside the point.

I came here to talk about the rain.  It has been raining for days in these parts.  Off and on.  On and off.  I must admit, that all the sogginess is getting a bit tiresome.  Especially to this guy.

The younger one is feeling cooped up herself.  It's like she is beginning to grow out of her britches.  That might be because she is.  Some of her clothes are actually getting tight.  And she is an ole pro at holding that head up.  Before this rain ends, homegirl is likely to be studying her driver's handbook. 

I'm kidding really.  If she has noticed the lack of sunshine, she hasn't mentioned it to me.

But I should tell you, that Piper and Ike are becoming thick as thieves.  Smart girl, that Piper.  Didn't take her long to figure out that when it comes to the General, you're either with him or you're against him.  At the moment, he is pretty interested in his new "sister", but he is none too happy with us parents.  Teenage rebellion, I suppose.  Or maybe it's the fact that he is stuck inside with all this silly rain!  P.S. Is the following photo considered "endangering a child"?  I assure you, she didn't mind it. 

As you can see, we are all surviving the rain, but ready for the sunshine, especially since we are having a particularly warm January.  I've got big plans for outside-ness this weekend, provided the weather cooperates.

i had the strangest dream last night

I have always had strange dreams.  Ask my husband.  He is normally the one that I am waking up in the middle of the night to listen to my dreams.  I might add that he is usually pretty sweet about listening and calming me down when I have a nightmare.  Although, at one point during my pregnancy after a string of nights filled with bad dreams he figured out how to rub my shoulders and calm me down enough to go back to sleep without actually waking himself--as he had no recollection the following morning.  Homeboy is a hard sleeper.

Last nights dream was particularly weird.  Very Twilight Zone, minus the Rod Serling.  It was one of those dreams where I wasn't actually participating, I was just observing.  Maybe that makes me Rod Serling.-

The world is ending.  It was never clear exactly what was happening, but I imagine that there was a large comet heading for Earth or a devastating weather change, because all of humanity was trying to get into this large, protective dome. 

There are four men, each of whom is trying to gather followers.  They all claim that they can save humanity.  Three of them boast strength and power, insisting that they can protect all of the human race and life will carry on as normal.  They are certain that they can lead, but something inside me feels confident that their leadership style is one of dominance.  I think I even hear one of them talking about his plans for slavery and such evils once he is in charge.

The fourth man says very little.  He sits calmly and peacefully, and his truth is that despite predictions about the world ending, those who follow him will not be harmed.  He is homely looking, and dressed very poorly compared to the other men.  But he seems kind. 

Wars are breaking out and people are beginning to panic.  They all flee to the three charismatic men who promise safety from impending doom.  I for some reason feel drawn to the fourth man.  The strangest part of the dream was that he bore a striking resemblance to Robin Williams. 

Finally, the four men somehow end up locked inside the dome by themselves.  It soon becomes apparent that whatever catastrophe was heading for Earth has now been confined to the dome and they are facing certain death.  The three men begin to panic.  Their screams for help echo off of the round walls, but are not heard.  The fourth man continues to stay calm, and prepares to accept his fate.

There was no real conclusion to the dream.  There never is.  I woke up to the cries of the little one, as she was ready to eat.  When I crawled back in bed for a few more hours of snoozing, I dreamt that I was at Disney World.  I liked that one a lot better. 

I assure you this picture is not posed.  There is real sleeping going on here.

sag

twilight skiing

Saturday afternoon, I completely lost my wits about me.

You see, Zach and Brian were planning a short trip up to Cataloochie to ski for the evening.  They had been talking about it for weeks, and with some recent cold weather and snowfall it seemed like this weekend was as good as any other.

Their plan was to leave around three-thirty in the afternoon, pick up a bite to eat and a friend along the way, and ski the twilight hours before heading back late Saturday night.  That was THEIR plan.

My plan was to snuggle with my little one on the couch and introduce her early on to the term "chick flic".  There may have been ice cream involved in my plan.

Three-fifteen and Zach is throwing some gear and a change of clothes in his gym bag, and he turns and says to me, "I wish you were coming."  A slow nod from me, as in I wish this little one was older and we could all go.  "Hey, why don't you come!?"

I couldn't possibly leave my two month old bundle of joy and charge off to a mountain, where I would most certainly meet my death on skies.  But before I knew it, Grammy had agreed and we were in the car heading North.  I might have shed a few tears at leaving her behind, but then again it could have been just a spec of dust.

And then, I might have had a blast skiing in the rain and sleet.  We were soaked within minutes, and there is nothing graceful or attractive about my skills...but I was there.  There are very few pictures from the night, which is probably a good thing.

Piper was just fine.  I knew she would be.  I came home to the same sleeping babe I had left just hours before, except I'm pretty sure she had grown an inch or two.

I am so grateful that my husband knew I needed to take that step.  I am so thankful that our family is so close, and loves our little girl so much.   And for the love of pete, how did I not break a leg on that mountain top!?

a fallen soldier

It is a rainy Sunday morning and I just finished a run through downtown Simpsonville.  All is quiet.  Most of the shops are closed.  The church parking lots are full, but the streets are empty.  Nothing like it was around these parts yesterday.

For it was yesterday that thousands of people lined main street from the center of our town well into the neighboring one to honor the memory of a fallen soldier.

Funeral services were held yesterday for Army Medic PFC Justin Whitmire, just 20 years old, who was killed in Afghanistan two days after Christmas.  All of Simpsonville, and then some, turned out to pay their respects to a local hero.

It was difficult to overcome emotion as the body was driven through the street.  Especially in view of the impact this death had on such a small community.   Thousands of weeping onlookers waved American flags and held signs thanking this young man for his sacrifice as the family and the body made the threeish mile procession from the baptist church here in Simpsonville where services took place to the grave sight in nearby Fountain Inn.

 

 

Even the mail man abandoned his postal truck to pay homage. 

Among the many men in uniform there to give honor to a fellow servant, this one caught my eye.  He was standing so tall and proud in his dress clothes.

This group, known as the Patriot Guard Riders, showed up to ward off any negative attention that the grieving family might have received.  Many of them are veterans themselves who feel it is their duty to maintain respect at such tragic gatherings.  In the days leading up to the funeral, rumors circulated about the infamous Westboro Baptist group making an appearance to protest.  But if they were there, their hatred was kept silent as thousands of reverant riders and towns people vowed protection for the family in mourning.  

The un-official motto of many anti-protestors has become "Not Today, Fred", referring to Fred Phelps who leads Westboro Baptist Church in their protests of America.  Phelp's group claims that deaths such as PFC Whitmires are God pouring out his wrath on America because our nation has fallen away, and have been known to wield signs reading "Thank God for dead soldiers."  

Instead, gatherers insured that respect was the theme of their song.  Much of the time was spent in silence allowing for those attending the funeral to say their goodbyes without disturbance.

 

Regardless of feelings concerning a war or American ideal, the God I serve hates sin, but He is a God of love.  He is our great protector, He is Sovereign, and He is the the great comforter.  He certainly would not approve of the "church" spewing such hatred, and I am ashamed to be even remotely associated with these people, as a professing Christian.  That is all I will say on the issue because I don't want to talk about Westboro.

I want to talk about this.

  

People matter.  What a day to be an American.  What a day to be a resident of this small town.  What a day to be a young adult who has so much to learn about the world.

And what an interesting day to be a believer in the Lord Jesus.  May we, the church, always remember the people who protect our religious freedom, and those who suffer on our behalf.

sag