A Spotted Blanket

   I spent most of my childhood living in Beggs, Oklahoma. Anytime I tell someone this I quickly follow with, "It is about 45 minutes south of Tulsa," because, let's face it, not many people know where Beggs is. I am genuinely surprised and excited when someone does know about my little town. It almost feels like a secret we share.
   If you haven't already guessed, Beggs is way out in the country. I spent a lot of time outside digging in the dirt, climbing trees, or playing with our abundant supply of cats. Seriously at one point we had nine or something like that. On the plus side, we never had a mouse problem!
  
  Now a days I live in the city. I love all of the places around me here. Giant parks, Five Guys Burgers and Fries, splash pads, Hollie's Steakhouse, Hey Day, Raising Caines, The Warren Movie Theater, Yamatos... Oh the food. Oh the fun. I love the city.

You know what we don't have here, though?
  Stars.
Ok so we have some. Maybe on a clear night if I was to go outside and stare at the sky for a while I could make out a few good ones but there will always be light pollution. They will never be as bright and as beautiful as they are in the country.

  I loved watching for shooting stars in Beggs. My dad either shared this passion with me, or maybe he just was passionate about his daughter, because he would come home from a long day of work, help me gather blankets pillows, spread them out on our front yard, lie on the ground with me and we would wait. We would look up and try to spot the quick, bright, bold streaks in the sky.

  Under the stars, my dad would tell me jokes and I would tell him about school. Sometimes my brothers would join us. Most of the time it was just me and my daddy.
When it was just us two he would share his faith with me. We would talk about how God made all of the stars. I imagined God throwing a spotted blanket over the earth every evening. I couldn't comprehend back then how much more complex our universe is.
  The universe, galaxies, planets, stars.. infinite, shining, orbiting, burning, exploding.. I mean..whoah.

  Then if you zoom in on our little town of Beggs, down an old dirt road, even farther down a gravel driveway, you would see a girl and her dad pointing at the sky and making wishes.
 
   On one particular night I hope to never forget, you would hear my dad say, "What is that smell?"
Then you would hear a grown man let out a yell when he realized that one of our many cats decided to use the blanket as its own personal toilet. Unfortunately for my dad, the pile of feline feces was right by his leg.
  It got all over his pants.
  Needless to say that night our star gazing ended rather abruptly.
But it was a while before they ended altogether.

  Thank you Daddy for sitting with me so many of those nights and just being there.
Thank you for teaching me to recognize the beauty that God has created.

  I can't wait to teach my kids the same lesson.

Barefoot

  I will just start this off by saying I have an amazing big sister.
  Becky is about 6 years older than me, which is a sizeable gap. It was always very easy to look up to her.

   We didn't always get along.. I would get into her stuff, and unplug her alarm clock, draw hearts in her yearbook over her friends that I had a ridiculously huge crush on. (Yes, I am finally owning up to that even though, duh, everyone knew I did it.)

  Was I just a brat? Probably. I honestly don't remember any 'bad' things she did to me. According to Manoah, one time mom told her to apologize to me. When mom walked out Becky said, "I'm sorry you're so stupid."
  It makes a pretty funny sibling rivalry story even though I don't remember it.

  Even though we could get on each other's last nerve I always idolized my big sister. She had so many friends and she wore the coolest clothes. She would even let me borrow her t-shirts sometimes, because what else are sisters for?

  When Becky moved to Norman to go to the University of Oklahoma we went from seeing each other daily to just holidays and summer time.

   One summer day when she was home it started pouring rain. Becky and I took off our shoes and ran outside to play in the yard. It was a beautiful and warm so we decided to take a walk. We ditched our shoes on the porch and started off barefoot down the road. We walked around our neighborhood at first. Lost in conversation we expanded our neighborhood hike to the main road. We walked as far as the sidewalk would take us. When we reached the end we turned around to trek back home.

   A man in a truck pulled over and offered to give us a ride. I'm sure he thought we were two poor girls stuck in the rain. We thanked him and told him we were fine, because we were. Our time that we spent together had become something rare and rich. I wanted to soak up Becky's company as much as I could before she left again.
  I don't remember the conversation we had I just remember the feeling of fun, love, and a deep friendship that was building between us.

  This memory came back to me as I was driving home today after visiting Becky and her babies. I love living close enough so that I can see her any time I want. I love that our kiddos are close in age. Shamblin loves Demma and he talks about her constantly.

  I am insanely blessed with a sister who radiates love and kindness from her soul. A soul that belongs to God.
  To this day I still strive to be like my older sister. I thank God for walking with us, barefoot, in the rain that summer day. He is cultivating an unbreakable bond and it is better than any gift I could ask for.

Recalling Memories

  I've been thinking about memories recently. The older I get the more aware I am of how fleeting they are. I love to reminisce when I hang out with old friends. We revisit the past and hash out the details. Sometimes the memories come rushing back. Other times they are completely forgotten.

  Isn't it just the greatest when you suddenly recall a fond memory? It's like God is sending you little snapshots of your life and he is saying, " Remember this? I was there with you."

Sometimes the memories aren't so pleasant. They can be painful, regretful, or downright embarrassing memories.

  Tonight, after the kids were in bed, Paul and I did our evening workout. After 20 minutes of lunges I laid on the couch and quickly propped my feet on the cushions so my legs were elevated. It brought me back to 6th grade basketball practice.

Look.. I am not a sporty person by any means, but it was way worse when I was a slow and uncoordinated 12 year old girl. Eventually I wisened up and got into music. That is where I really thrived, however,  that is another story.

I played basketball from 6th to 9th grade. My 6th grade basketball coah was Coach Mudd. This next opinion reverts back to me being.. you know.. slow and uncoordinated but I feel as though she ran us pretty hard.
  Uuugghh.. Cardio.. **shivers**
I know, I know.. "No pain no gain" and all of that jazz.. but I reiterate.. slow and uncoordinated.

There is this particular drill we would do that was absolute hell. I don't even remember what it was called but it requires you to be low and moving.

When she told us to line up at half court I knew what was coming. I remember I would scheme and attempt to get at the end of the line. I did not want to be the first in the line and hold everyone up.

The only problem was Coach would pick which end started. You could be last or you could be first. Well this time I was first. I was filled with dread.. Coach Mudd blew her whistle and everyone squatted down in unison to shuffle around the cracked and faded black lines of the court.

I started out at a good pace. For a moment I thought I could push through it. About halfway around is when I started to zone out a little.
But I kept pushing.
My view started to get blurry.
But I kept pushing. 
I started to get tunnel vision.
But I kept pushing.
I couldn't hear the coach calling my name.
So I kept pushing.

I don't remember what it was that snapped me out of it. I remember being pulled to the side and Coach Mudd stopping the practice. She had me lie down on the bleachers and put my feet on the beige plastic seats above me. I laid there and looked at the ceiling for a few minutes. Every second that went by I felt a little better. I could hear the other girls on my team whispering. I looked over to see them staring at me and talking. My cheeks burned and my eyes teared up. I was sure they thought the worst of me. I felt ashamed. I felt like a weakling.

  Coach Mudd continued practice and for the 10 minutes that was left I stayed in that same position. When practice was over she walked over to ask me if I was ok. I struggled to get up and let out a squeaky, " Yes!" Hoping I sounded enthusiastic. I wanted to sound strong. I wanted to be able to brush it off.
Then Coach Mudd said, "Never ever push yourself that hard. It's ok to tell me you can't do something."

  Something was being chipped away inside of me. It was as if a frosted window began to crack.
Practice was over so I made my way to the locker room where all of the girls were getting ready for class. When I walked in they strode over to me and asked if I was ok. They all told me they were so worried about me. In that moment the frosted window shattered and I realized that I had been insecure and ashamed for no reason.
I am the only one that knows my body and only I know when I've reached my limit.
This may seem like an obvious thought to most but I wanted approval so bad. I wanted to look stronger than I actually was.

  back to the present as I was strung out on the couch in the exact same position I was in so many years ago, I asked God a few questions.

  "God, where were you?"

  He said,

  "As you were pushing yourself past your limit I was the one who was holding you up and I sat beside you while you tried to catch your breath."
  
  "God, what is the truth you want to share with me tonight?"

   This is what he spoke..

  "Call on my name when you are weary and I will be there."

  Have you ever heard the phrase, 'God will only give you what you can handle'?
I don't like that phrase. I think there will be times when are given more than we can handle. I don't think that's a bad thing. I think its an opportunity to put our trust in God. It's a good thing to take a step back and say, "I can't do this. Lord, take this from me."

Ask and you shall receive, seek and you will find, knock and a door will be open unto you.

  God will swoop in and save you. He will be there for you because he is already there.

 

Serenity Margaret Edwards

She was so different from Shamblin.
First of all, She hardly ever gave me morning sickness. Thanks so much for that, oh daughter of mine.
I craved those salty, crispy, greasy burgers from Freddy's instead of chocolate chip cookies.
She wasn't much of a kicker and she never got the hiccups.

I was hoping she would be born on New Years Day. How cool  of a birthday would that be?
Alas, January 1st arrived and nothing was happening. I went to bed around midnight that night. I don't know what compelled me to stay up that late but I did.
I remember laying down in bed and I just had the weirdest feeling in my back. It was almost like a deep tickle in my spine.

 In the back of my mind, I knew that it was beginning. Yet I pushed it further back and told myself it was really just a hope.

 Paul came to bed around 2:30. He hardly ever wakes me up when he gets in bed but that night he did. When I woke up I felt the teeniest tiniest contraction. I tried to sleep but;
1. I was way too excited to sleep
2. The contractions were just annoying enough that they kept me up and
3. I was way way way too excited to sleep.

 There is just something about labor day, guys. Knowing that you are about to meet this little one that you have been waiting for for 9 months. Wondering what she will look like.. Hoping that the ultrasound was correct and she actually is a she so you didn't buy all of these adorable little baby girl clothes for nothing..

  I got up and went into the living room.
My distraction of choice was The Office season 9. Time to binge watch.

  I sat on the birthing ball and timed each contraction. They got closer and closer together and each was a little more painful than the last.

I called my mom and I called my mother-in-law pretty early in the morning letting them know I was pretty sure it was time.
My mom started to make the hour and a half drive from Sapulpa and my in-laws came to pick up Shamblin.

 Of course as soon as they got there my contractions stopped.
They just stopped...
I was afraid it was a false alarm but Paul's parents took Shamblin anyway.
By that time I had woken up a grumpy husband. (sorry Paul but you should really get in bed earlier)
We had gotten everything packed up for the hospital but since my contractions stopped we didn't go. So Paul sprawled out on the couch and fell asleep.
I decided to take advantage of the stall in the middle of my labor to get some shut eye too since I only had slept about two and a half hours.
It was a gift from God.
I got to sleep another couple of hours and when I woke up it was go time again! My contractions were back and they were strong.

 At 11:00 we left for the hospital and stopped at sonic because I was starving.
mmmm... cheesburger bacon toasters...

  Can I just say that I love the Norman Healthplex? So clean and everyone is so friendly! Except for the lady that took us back in the triage room. She was a little grumpy. She also made us wait in that room for an hour. She also took about 8 minutes to see how dilated I was. So that was awful.. but i'm not holding a grudge or anything..

 They finally got me to my room and broke my water. Which means labor just got a lot harder yo. After an hour I was ready for my epidural because I had not progressed any further.
Thank you giant needle in my spine.

 I could still feel each contraction but they no longer hurt so I closed my eyes and tried to doze off.

I always felt a little annoyed that I had to be hooked up to machines while I labored. I felt like it was unnecessary. Oh how wrong I was. Oh how grateful I am for the machines that surround me and monitor my heart and my girl's heart.

As I was drifting off I could hear the beeping slow down. It got slower and slower. I was so tired literally the first thought that went through my head was, "Am I dying?"
I open my eyes and I see the nurse hustle in. I could tell there was something wrong. She was moving way too quickly for just a check in on me.
I'm thankful for nurses who can stay so calm in a time of crisis. I knew something bad was happening but I didn't know what.

 Serenity's heart rate had plummeted.
They quickly put an oxygen mask on me and told me to breath deep. They tried to flip me over on my other side.
This was the scariest few minutes of my life.
I am so thankful for nurses knowing exactly what to do.
Soon Serenity's heart rate was back where it needed to be.
After I shed a few tears I felt better and thanked God for helping Serenity.

  When they checked on my dilation I was at a 7. About 30 minutes later my brother, Luke, and my father came to visit.
My sister was on her way to take pictures for me but she was stopping to get some food for everyone.
Except for me.. woe is labor.

My mom stepped out for the first time all morning to go to the bathroom. While she stepped out they checked my dilation and I was at a 10! It happened so fast. Paul ran to get my mom and she called Becky and told her to just forget the food and get her butt to the hospital!

 I pushed maybe 4 or 5 times and my little baby was out. My sister walked in right when it happened and was able to capture these beautiful moments.

She was such a tiny thing. She has brought so much joy to our house! My little Ren Bird.

Thought of the Day

Sometimes I feel a little guilty about feeding Shamblin chicken nuggets and/or peanut butter and jelly just about every single day.

I tell myself I need to stop taking the easy way out by throwing a plate of processed food into the microwave for him.

  I decided I would take charge of my toddler's diet and make a good ol' fashion home cooked meal that is delicious and healthy. so on Tuesday I about 30 minutes making macaroni and cheese from scratch that has pureed veggies mixed in with some diced ham for protein.. (ok maybe it's not super healthy but it's got to be better than chicken from a bag?)

  It's a new recipe so I tinkered with it until it was perfect. 

  I spooned a hefty serving onto Shamblin's plate and he doesn't even touch it. He just looks at me like, "Where are my chicken nuggets, woman?"

  After much coaxing I get him to at least try it only to have him spit it back out.

  I now remember why I make him the same meal every day.

  Well.. more for me. At least he takes a vitamin every day.