Wow, He does care about the little things...(long story but worth it)

I think that when our eyes are opened to something, it is our duty to share with the world our experience. This is especially true when we are given a revelation through something that we have personally experienced because then it's not even a matter of convincing those that you are telling, it is just stating fact because you experienced it, you saw it, you felt it....you know it.

On Friday, March 5, 2010 at 3:00 pm, I noticed that our little Yorkie dog, Rocky, had run away. My husband and I got in separate cars and went in opposite directions looking for him and quickly realized, he could be anywhere. I broke the news to the kids when I got them from school...we cried. We drove until dark and I listened to my girls call his name out of the car windows, through tears, as their voices cracked. (I don't even need to explain how that made me feel). That night was hard. Me and the kids prayed for him to be safe. But as a mother, I felt that it was my duty to shield them from the complicated"ness" of God not always giving us what we ask for, especially trivial things like returning a lost pet. They asked for God to bring their dog back but in my head I debated on how I could explain that God may not bring him back because God's not a genie that grants wishes...God's busy with answering prayers about Haiti and people stricken with cancer.

The next morning we put "Lost Dog" flyers into the mail boxes in our subdivision and taped the flyers to the Stop Signs. We heard nothing.

The following day I got this great idea to go on Craigslist and post our Lost Dog poster in their Lost and Found section...there were 20 lost dogs in the past 2 days.

Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday passed. Then I got an email from my Craigslist posting. A woman saw my post and wanted to tell me that she had lost her little dog the same day but that she didn't hear anything back until she said that she would offer a reward. I thanked her for her advice but I couldn't get over the fact that someone had her dog and purposefully waited for a reward before returning him. You can sell a Yorkie for up to $1,000! She later sent me another email and it said "I'll be praying for you and your dog." I thought, how odd, she doesn't even know me...I didn't reply.

Meanwhile, my husband was at work talking with some co-workers and he mentioned that our dog had run away. One of his co workers said, "Let's pray for your dog to come back!" My husband felt silly and rejected his co-worker's kind offer and said "I don't think that God's worried about my dog (thanks for the offer though!)" We talked about it later that night and we both agreed, we wouldn't bother God about Rocky...we only sent quick prayers - silently, of course - that wherever he was, he wasn't being mistreated and was safe...that's a realistic prayer, right?

Thursday, March 11, 2010, my husband gets a call from a woman that asks him if we ever found our dog. He replies, No, and she tells him that on Friday when she was at the bank (about 1.5 miles away) a woman had found a little dog and that we should go there and ask about it. I drove in my car (at 90/mph) and gave them flyers to put up in their foyer. As I was leaving, I saw a little pet grooming store that just opened and thought, I should give them a flyer, its worth a try, right? I walked in and didn't even finish my sentence when the woman asked, did you lose a Yorkie?

Me: yes!!

Pet Grooming Lady: go to the bank.

Me: I just did!! They're gonna put up my flyer.

Pet Grooming Lady: No, no...ask for Gail, she works there, she called me and told me that if someone looks for a lost Yorkie, I have it.

Me: What?! The lady that found him wasn't a customer?! (Why didn't anyone tell me?)

I run across the street (baby and twins in tow) and...its closed. You've got to be kidding me! My girls are knocking on the door. I reprimand them and tell them to stop when a woman comes to the door (the one I gave the flyers to). I asked her for Gail. She says Gail's on vacation - what?! where's my dog?! She comes back Monday and I was going to give her your flyer then. Sheesh.

My inner dialogue went something like this:

Me: I'm gonna get my dog!

Me: Dang, I'm not gonna get my dog!

Me: Oh wait! Her name is Gail?! I'm gonna get my dog!

Me: Sheesh, I'm not gonna get my frikkin' dog.

We go home. At 7:00 pm, we get a call from a woman that says, I think I have your dog (Woo Hoo!-was someone holding out on me?) We get her address and race over and we see our little Rocky. Wow! Wait, he looks different. (I know what you're thinking, wrong dog-nope, it was him) The kind lady took him to the vet, the groomer, bought him a bed, toys, vet recommended food, and he had access to a doggy door and came and went as he pleased. After tons of thank you's and a check we said our goodbye's and she actually cried as we left with him. It turned out that he had traveled about a 1.5 miles, crossed a busy intersection and was roaming by the drive through of the bank. My yorkie....my little 6 lb. yorkie! How did he NOT get plastered onto the street?

My revelation of this experience? God hears. God cares (even about the little things). I learned that we can't feel like we're bothering him with "little things"...He'll be the judge of what's insignificant. Does He always do what we ask? No. Like I said, there were 20 missing dogs around the same time Rocky went missing. But my point is this: We can't only pray the prayers that seem "realistic"....let Him decide what he CAN and WILL do (is this not the definition of Sovereign?). I'm reminded of a verse that I heard when I was little - Matthew 6:26 and Matthew 10:29 + 30. Some of you that read this might feel cynical but my job today was not to prove anything...it was to simply state the facts of what I learned. God hears. God listens. God cares.

Yea, I started an herb garden (don't hate!)

If you've been keeping up with my blog you would see that I have already endeavored on cake decorating thanks to Ace of Cakes and Cake Boss. But since then I have taken up a new obsession with cooking shows. I've learned to appreciate the "art" in the Culinary Arts. This obsession has lead to the purchase of a food processor that I just HAD to have (my valentine's gift from the Hubbs - I think he's already preparing for the immersion blender and standing cake mixer request) Anyway, I noticed that many recipes called for fresh herbs and on the shows some cooks would just pull the herbs right off of the plants in their kitchen. Sooooo, I went to the Nursery yesterday and bought Pineapple Mint (I had no idea that this existed), Parsley and Cilantro...I bought organic soil, repotted them and voila!

*quick tip, when buying herbs: you can't smell them by sniffing the leaves, you need to rub a leaf between two fingers and then smell your fingers!*

We all get old and fat, get over it....

I am 29 and will be 30 on July 2010. I had an idea of what I wanted to be like at 30. I already am a mother and a wife but I wanted to be these things while being FABULOUS! What does that even mean?! Well naturally, that meant that I would look younger than all the other 30 year olds, be thinner than all the other moms and be happier than all the other wives...oh and did I mention more successful while being the best, most fun mom ever?! I guess I thought I would be this?

I am literally laughing out loud while I write this because I can't believe that I put that much pressure on myself. (Don't get me wrong, it wasn't an obsession but it was definitely in the back of my mind along with visiting some foreign country and running a marathon one day.) Now that I'm 29 though, I'm discovering something that those that have embarked the "30's Right of Passage" didn't tell me before. You start giving yourself a permission slip to NOT be the thinnest, and NOT be the most successful, happiest person on earth b/c you start noticing that most of the time it's a front put on by most people anyway.

This is in NO WAY stating that we should lose our drive to better ourselves but our drive should be to become better versions of ourselves as opposed to better versions of everyone else. Because the truth is, even the most beautiful people have to get old and even the best physiques get saggy.

okay, one more.

This is my life. My family. I'm me and I'm happy. I have 20 lbs. to lose but that's because according to my BMI, I need to. My house is messy most of the time, SO WHAT?! (yeah, I said it) As long as I am the best mom and wife I can be and I am staying true to myself and the Creator that created me then I'm good.

Oh, and as long as I get to wear these bad boys every once and a while, then I can look good while I try!

I hate Kays Jewelry Commercials!...

...and I'm not the only one. Go ahead and google

"I hate Kays Jewelry commercials" First of all, a single woman would be so upset with a man that pulled out a tiny box (that looks like an engagement ring box) but has 2 little diamond earrings in them...bad idea. The worst commercial is the one with the woman that leaps into her man's arms due to a loud thunder. He catches her and says "I'm right here." Seriously? Grown women are not afraid of thunder and lightening

- and if they were, most of them would be too prideful to show it.They are airing these commercials a lot now because of the holidays and I just had to vent...sorry.

I know I'm late catching on to this...

Recently the family and I had a little 6 hour road trip. We don't have a t.v. in our car so 6 hours proved to be a little difficult for our 7 year olds so we stopped at our trusted Target and bought Bop It (batteries included)!

Bop It is a fun game that tests your reflexes. An electronic voice will tell you to Bop It, Pull It, Turn It, etc. You can play alone, party mode or head to head (which means the voice will then say "Pass It"-which is an extra thing to do!). The beat will get faster and faster as you continue. It sounds a lot easier than it looks. Lookin for simple family fun? Buy Bop It for $15.

I ALMOST DIED!

Okay, maybe not, but I definitely could have been badly hurt. So my landlord tells me that the bill for the sprinkler system was oddly high this month so she needed me to check the water meter in the front lawn. "Sure", I said, but little did I know that by checking this for her, I would have my brush with death.

The water meter looks like this:

I'm sure you know how you would open this. Stick your finger in the hole and pull the little flap open, right? That's what I did...and this is what I found.

A black widow. She was right next to the hole that I had stuck my finger in. Yes. Yes. Yes! I'm sure you can imagine how I felt. Now before all of you brave, woodsy, hippies reply to this post and say that most spiders will not attack you unless they feel

threatened, let me just say this. I totally was rough when I opened the flap. I brutally jabbed my finger in the hole and threw the flap open (she def. could have felt threatened and bit me)

Thank God all is well. We called an exterminator and to my dismay he played with her for a while before he killed her.

I finally made it...

Well, it was finally time to decorate the cake! I took the fondant out and started rolling...but there was one problem. I didn't have enough to cover the cake. I was so mad! So what I ended up having to do is cut the cake. I turned a 9 in round cake into a 4-5 inch round cake. I tried my best but some of the sides began to crumble away, but it definitely looked like a circle which is the most important.

I laid the fondant down and began to decorate. I made my leaves with cookie cutters and I stuck them on with Vodka (any clear alcohol will do but water would be the worst thing to use) - the Vodka also helps with eliminating the powdery look of the fondant. It was okay for being my first cake but I still wish I could have done better. It would have been great to have made the leaves look real instead of like clay...BUT...I was happy with my little pumpkin.

(If you're interested, this was made with orange fondant, rolled into a ball and a clove as the stem.) Overall, I'm happy I attempted to try my hand at decorating cakes. Next time will hopefully be better...but I don't think it will be right away, my arms and hands are still sore...:o)

CRAP! Handling Fondant is Hard!

To stay true to my commitment I needed to dye the fondant today. The fondant had been in the fridge all night and man oh man did I not know what I was in for! I knew that I was going to have to knead it into a workable consistency but I didn't think that it would have used so much muscle...ha!

Anyway, after I got the fondant pliable, I divided it up into a few balls and began dying. I have decided that I want my cake to be about Fall so the colors I created were beige, brown, orange, green and yellow. All I had were the primary colors but I did some mixin' and made it work. Tomorrow we lay the fondant and actually decorate!

My New Obsession With Cake Decorating

Lately, I have been addicted to shows like Food Network's Cake Challenges, Ace of Cakes and TLC's Cake Boss. I am in complete awe of how these people can make these huge works of art with cake and since I've started watching these shows I have learned the difference between fondant, gumpaste, modeling chocolate, royal icing, ganache, etc. Anyway, I became inspired; I love using my hands and being creative so I decided to try my hand at cake decorating.

I decided that I would make FONDANT (a smooth icing that is used to cover cakes)...not to mention I always wanted to know what it tasted like. It turns out that many people don't like the taste of regular fondant not to mention the recipe calls for things like glycerin of which I had none and didn't feel like searching for in Walmart. So there is a marshmellow recipe online that many people prefer - I also ended up finding a video tutorial which was good because it gave me confidence.

RECIPE:

• 1 bag of mini marshmellows
• 1 can of crisco (to oil your hands and the work-surface)
• 1 tspn of water
• 1 bag of powdered sugar ( I only used half of the bag)

After I had all of my ingredients ready and my counter was sanitized and prepped with Crisco (trust me, the Crisco is necessary!) I popped the marshmellows into the microwave in 30 second increments until they were melted...I stirred 'em and then poured it into my little mountain of powdered sugar.

I kept kneading it into a little ball...

And then I stored it into a baggie so that it won't get hard because tomorrow I will separate it into a few smaller bags and begin dying.

Stay Tuned!

These twins are killing it! I had to share this with you.

Like Riding a Bike

Firstly, I want to apologize to the Blog gods for not being more consistent with my blogging. These past few months have been a little busy...the twins went back to school, and due to my husband's ER visit (3 days after the baby was born) we have had many doctor's appointments/follow-up visits for each member of the family.

Anyhoo, I am here now and that's what's important.

This blog entry is titled Like Riding a Bike because I'm amazed at how much has come back to me about babies in these past few weeks. Not to get anyone jealous (especially new moms) but it has been amazingly easy this time around. Granted, it could be because it's just one baby now, but the crying doesn't bother me and oddly enough, neither does the sleep deprivation. However, I accredit this "easiness" and patience to being 7 years older this time around and being more mature. I now know that this year of her life is going to fly by and there will come a day where I will have to look at a picture or a video to remember the little things I found to be so cute. Am I taking my time to smell the roses? You can say that...if smelling roses is painting her cute little toes and then snapping a picture to remember how tiny those little toes were.

To hear my husband's version of "My Birthing Story" check it out here.

My birthing story:

It was July 14, 2009 and at 4:50 pm I had my first contraction. I remember the time b/c I knew beyond a doubt that this was officially “a contraction!” so I started to time them. It wasn’t painful, just uncomfortable, and I remember thanking God that this labor was happening naturally (I was scheduled to be induced July 15, 6:30 am.) So my husband and I headed to the hospital. It was 6:00 pm when my OB Dr. said that I was 3 cm…awesome! These contractions were actually doing something! At this point my contractions were 10 minutes apart but were not too uncomfortable…I was carrying on convo’s on the phone, checking Facebook on my cell, watching t.v., etc. At 8 pm I sent my husband to go get my girls and my mother so that they could see that they weren’t missing anything. They came and went…my contractions were now 7 minutes apart. The nurse asked me to rate my pain 1-10, I said it was about 3-4. At around 10 pm I kissed my family goodbye and said, “I’ll see you guys in the morning when the baby gets here!” I told hubby, “You go home so that you can be rested for when I really need you.” Everyone was smiling and giddy knowing that the baby was gonna be here tomorrow morning!

Well, I watch the late night shows, breathing through the contractions that seem to be getting a little stronger and closer together and all of a sudden, OUCH! What the hell was that?! Why was it difficult to breathe through that contraction?! OUCH! I have to get up! I can’t lay down. It’s 2 am and I call the nurse and ask her to check my contractions on the graph thingy because they seem to be getting really close together. She says she can’t because I’m moving too much and that I should stay still the next time I feel a contraction. OUCH! Yeah right! That was impossible. “Pain is at a 7”, I told my nurse. I call Hubby and ask him to come so that he can help me walk through the pain b/c my legs were actually buckling with every contraction. And then all of a sudden the contractions were getting scarily close together. I can’t escape them, it hurts when I sit, it hurts when I stand, it hurts when I lay….Oh no. Forget the steady breathing, it didn’t seem to be working. I call hubby again, “Where are you, these are getting pretty bad.” I wanted to warn him that the calm, cool and collected Lisa that he saw a few hours prior was no longer in the room, but time didn’t allow.

Fast forward 3 minutes, he enters my room and sees a strange woman that is emitting a low, demonic growl that pregnant women tend to do during labor and so it had begun…ACTIVE labor. The nurse told me that the Dr. was on her way…”she only lives 5 minutes away, so hang in there.” Wait a minute, I can’t! All of a sudden, the pain was no longer inwards, it was pushing outwards…and…and…I began to yell. In a millisecond, a teeny tiny part of my brain told me, “you’re scaring half the women on this floor, shut up” and as quickly as that thought came, it went. It was impossible.

I began to push and scream. Why did I decide to do this natural again?! I began to curse all of my friends that encouraged the natural childbirth experience…I hated them. I don’t remember my husband being there…my eyes were now permanently shut and my arms were holding on to the bed rails for dear life. “DON’T PUSH!” the nurses yelled. I. Had. To. Push. Then I felt my water break, and that brief relief quickly turned into a 20 on the pain scale. “I want an epidural, please, give it to me now before its too late, please” No response. They had actually turned me to my side, my legs were together (because they didn’t want to deliver this baby with out the Dr.) PAIN!!! And I pushed. The nurse looks down, opens my legs and gasps…her head was out! Let me remind you, my eyes were closed but at that moment that she gasped I heard a ton of noise and scurrying. My husband grabbed 1 leg and she grabbed the other and out of nowhere I heard a voice. This was an unfamiliar voice and she told me to push. She said, “you have to push, now!” She took control and I had no choice but to submit. I screamed a scream that I did not know I was capable of and she was out.

Just to put it into perspective, 5 minutes went by from when I described my pain at a 7 to when the baby actually came out. It felt like an eternity, but in actuality it was very fast. My Dr. came into the room right after the baby came out. My poor husband had no idea that when he walked into the room, that was what he was gonna see and experience and that in 5 minutes he would be holding his new baby girl. Hearing his version of the experience is quite funny…now.

Well, the due date came and went...

I couldn't help but research online which mammals have the longest gestations. It turns out it's the African Elephant with a gestation of 22 months.

Wow. This actually makes me feel better. Sorry African Elephant, I feel for you.

To Induce or Not to Induce, that is the question...

For those of you that don't know this, I have decided to have a natural childbirth. The problem from the very beginning was that "I" decided this...alone. My husband can not understand, for the life of him, why anyone would want to feel pain. In the beginning of the pregnancy I explained my reasoning to him but it was never really understood, it was accepted but not understood.

So here we are at 38 1/2 weeks preggers and my Dr. has given me the option of inducing on Wednesday (because my cervix doesn't seem to be doing anything). To an impatient couple and an uncomfortable pregnant woman, this is a very hard offer to refuse. However, after much thought and consideration, I have come to the realization that this is already becoming an unnatural childbirth. Although DH has accepted my decision, this completely baffles him as he can't understand why I am torturing myself by remaining pregnant for possibly another 2 weeks when I am being given a get-out-of-jail-free-card but all I can reason is, if I'm not over 40 wks and there is no medical reason to induce then why do it? To make me more comfortable? Sounds tempting but I think I'll pass. LORD GIVE ME STRENGTH!

Pregnancy Blues

First of all, I am in complete awe when I step outside. I can't believe the heat here in the Gulf. I even took a picture as proof. Luckily, I have been told that this is a heat wave and that temperatures don't usually get like this until August...great.

Have you guys heard my description of the hospital that I am going to have my baby in? I've decided that it either looks really old, like from the 60's or very futuristic. I'm hoping that it's the latter...you decide.

Anyway, down to the Blues. I went to the OB doctor today. I got an ultrasound done and was told that my baby is probably 6 lbs. 12 oz., good right? Not exactly. My OB said that she is measuring a little behind...gestation-wise. I am 37 wks but my baby is me

asuring at about 35 wks. Great, I guess I can say goodbye to my hopeful July 4th delivery date. Then they double check the sex of the baby and I'm told that she's "still a girl!" Great, again.

Then I get checked by my OB Dr. and find out that I am "very posterior"..."What does that mean?", I ask (as I mentioned in my earlier post, it's scary how much I've forgotten about pregnancy). She explains and says, "...it means that you've hardly dilated...although, your baby has definitely dropped."

Well, isn't that just...GREAT?!

Making Blog History

I can say with full assurance that I am the first in my immediate family to have a blog. My mother doesn't know about this, if she did, this is what she would say "You need to be careful with that internet, people can steal your identity". Well mom, rest assured, the rest of the world doesn't care about little ole' Lisa and the mundane things that happen in her life...except for her family and friends...hopefully.

I have created this blog mainly because I wanted to document my life as a wife and mother who has recently found herself pregnant again (after a failed vasectomy nonetheless). I haven't been pregnant for 7 years since I had my identical twins girls and honestly it scares me how much I have forgotten about pregnancy, labor and newborns.

This blog will hopefully be my outlet as I reenter the hectic world of stay-at-home-mommy-hood.