New Blog... come on over!

A long time ago in a land far away, there was a girl named Anna. She used to write regularly to let her friends and family in on what was going on in her heart and life. Then she stopped writing because her heart and life got really full. Then she felt bad about it and put off writing longer and longer until she lost the habit.

One day, a magic fairy appeared and waved a wand and gave Anna lots of discipline and time to write and create, while still being a good mommy to her two precious children and a darling wife to her dashing prince.

Wait. No. That didn't happen.

I just got some friends who remind me constantly that I need to write, so to get them off my back be a good steward, I started a new blog where I'm actually going to post stuff. So help me God. Seriously, I will need His help!

Anyway, if you want to check it out, come on over to www.annasjoy.com. I even got my own domain, ain't that fancy? If' you're reading this, you probably subscribe, so you can be my first visitors before I post anything about the new site on the social media places.

I'll leave this blog up in case I need to reference anything, but all new content will go over on annasjoy.com.

See you there!

We're having the baby here

You don’t even have to say it. I know, already. I’m the worst blogger ever.

No. I’m not even a blogger, because to be a blogger, you have to, well, write on your blog, which I apparently don’t do anymore.

But here I am, and for the handful of you who might not follow me on Instagram or Facebook, there are a few major changes to my status over the past few months that you might care to know about.

First, I’m pregnant! It’s a boy! He’s due in less than two months! Poor little guy, he’s not even born yet and I’m already falling behind in tracking and recording his life. And look, even now when I’m making the big announcement here, he gets a tiny paragraph. I'm even posting an outdated picture in his debut here.

Here he is at 16 weeks in the announcement I put on FB (He's now 32 weeks!)

Second, we moved to the Middle East. I wrote about it last year, so if you don’t know already, you can go there and try to crack my code (haha) on where exactly we are.

So now, I hope my title makes more sense. We have decided to deliver “Baby J” here, since the doctors and facilities are more than adequate and we get to stay together as a family. Going back to the States to deliver has its advantages, but the biggest disadvantage would be that Ayla and I would have to go 6 weeks before the due date and stay at least 6 weeks after his birth, while John would only be able to come for about 3 of those. We've already done enough separated time, so we'll stick this one out. 

I want to write more about all of these things, but had to start with actually telling you about them. I figure rather than try to overload this space with a complete catch-up, I’ll space it out to give you something to read on your potty breaks (if you don’t check your phone or read blogs when you’re on the potty, then neither do I).

Thanks for still reading and I’ll see you again here, soon!

Little Days: Big Girl Bed

Well folks, I was wrong.

Actually, I was right before I was wrong. Back when I wrote the post on weaning, I said that nothing is as big a deal as I think it's going to be.

For the last few months, I've been dragging my feet about converting Ayla's crib to a toddler bed, dreading all the re-sleep-training I was going to have to do. I should've listened to myself and all my friends who just did this and had great results.

I mean, if you've ever seen Ayla in her pre-sleep state, you can understand my hesitancy. She treated her crib like a wrestling ring, flinging herself from one side to the other, doing flips, rearranging the toys, pillows and blankets, making tents and tunnels for herself, just about anything but actually laying still.

One thing she hadn't done, until last weekend's failed-but-hilarious attempt at a sleepover with her best friend, is climb out of her crib. Even then, when she showed she could climb out safely, she learned quickly that she wasn't allowed to until Mommy came to get her.

Which leads us to this post. We (and when I say "we" I mean her Daddy) took the side off last night. And she was so excited to sleep in her big girl bed (which is the exact same place, mattress, pillow, etc.. she has slept in all her life, but you wouldn't know it by her reaction!), she didn't budge! All night!

Before: freedom?

This is her "pretend you're sleeping" face

After: happy girl in the morning

Thinking this was surely a fluke and would certainly not be repeated at nap time, I hunkered down for a long fight this afternoon. Nope. She was still, quiet and slept an extra hour!

So, of course, now that I'm posting this, I'll probably jinx it and she'll be back to her shenanigans soon. The smile on her face as she snuggles into her "new bed" is totally worth it!

Join the Little Days link up! 

Share a post of what makes the days with your children special. The goal of this link up is to encourage busy mommas to remember the little moments that outweigh the struggles and make it worth the adventure. 

 share #littledays and the love.

Little Days: Kitchen Helper

Ayla is finally starting to earn her keep around here by being my little helper in the kitchen. As most parents of kids around this age learn, their "help," can turn cooking (and cleaning up!) into a new adventure.

One thing Ayla's getting pretty good at is helping me crack eggs. In fact, if she spies or even thinks she hears me pulling the eggs out of the fridge, she comes running in yelling, "I needa help!" We get out her cute little apron, she climbs up on her little stool and I let her crack the eggs into a separate bowl before we pour them into their final destination. Since fried eggs are one of her most reliable staples for breakfast, she gets lots of practice cracking eggs!

This comfort with eggs did result in a pretty funny story. A few weeks ago, I took Ayla over to my friend's house for a play date. Since this friend's kids were school age, it was actually a play date for the mommies, but Ayla had full access to their ample playroom. We were upstairs having a nice chat, when she popped her cute little head up the stairs and told me she needed help with the eggs. There was a play kitchen down there, so I followed her back, curious what help she needed.

Turns out, she had discovered the pile of Easter eggs, stashed away and forgotten in a corner and had begun cracking them. After several empty eggs, she must have been so confused and decided to call in the big guns! My friend assured me her kids wouldn't miss them, we had a good laugh and swept up the tiny colored bits of shell.

The moral of the story is, if you are around Ayla and don't want your eggs cracked, don't let her see them!

Join the Little Days link up!

Share a post of what makes the days with your children special. 

The goal of this link up is to encourage busy mommas to remember the little moments that outweigh the struggles and make it worth the adventure. 

If Mother's Day is hard for you

(Because when you wake up at 5am with words heavy on your heart, you shouldn’t waste it. Because laying there in bed wishing for sleep to return isn’t going to make those words go away. Because some other people are lying awake this morning with heavy hearts and your words might help them.)

This one is for my dear friends in the mama waiting zone. Maybe there’s a guy out there who could benefit from this too, but I’m writing for you girls. For those who this “Mother’s Day” feels a bit like Valentine’s Day used to when we were single. Today, when breakfasts are balanced in beds and cards attempt to express unspeakable feelings, and flowers are handed out, you are empty handed.

You read other words of sympathy and compassion for you, from other mamas who spent a long time in that waiting zone and other mamas who have babies they never got to hold or not hold long enough. And when the ever brilliant Ann says, “Real Womanhood isn’t a function of becoming a great mother, but of being loved by your Great Father,” you nod and try to swallow away that lump in your throat, because you know it’s true but you still feel that emptiness growing until it feels like you just might burst.

I imagine what I have to say to you here being something like what one character says to another at the climax of a movie, where truth is told in words that they don’t really want to hear, but need to hear, and then they can let go or grab on to something (or someone) to get their resolution. So please hear this in love:

If today is hard for you because motherhood has become an idol, it’s time to lay it down.

An idol is anything we set up to be bigger in our hearts than God. Though it’s super hard to admit it, even good things can become idols. Even that good, God-given thing of dreams, longings, desires of motherhood, can become an idol. When the pain of the not-having becomes stronger than the faith-act of thanksgiving for what you do have, you may have an idol. When an ideal presented in edited, filtered digits by someone else becomes more desirable than the breathing flesh directly in your reach, you may have an idol.

I’m telling you sister, lay that idol down now. It only gets heavier and stickier when it gets a face and a name. When you have that baby and you get those cards and now you can really celebrate this day, if motherhood is still an idol, you may not be able to smell the sweetness of those flowers. Because what you have still won’t be good enough. In all likelihood, you won’t feel good enough. The voices that said you were incomplete before being a mom will start saying you could do more, be more. And when your kids get older and make their own choices, you might still hear that you weren't good enough. And Mother's Day still won't be a day of joy.

When I was in the waiting zone, more than one well-meaning, loving person suggested I lay down the desire to become a mother. God knows, I tried. Through altar calls and tear-soaked pillows, I tried to lay it down, only to find it again the next day in a baby’s cry the aisle over or a news report of yet another one hurt by someone who was supposed to take care of him or her.

So that’s not what I’m telling you, to lay down your desires. Maybe you need to do that, but what I’m pleading with you is to consider where this desire-turned-pain is in relation to your view of the Giver. If the desire has become an idol, there is no better day to get it out of the way (or start to, it took longer than a day to get there and might take longer to get rid of). And how might you do this, you might ask.

Make God bigger.

Or in Psalms-speak, “Magnify the LORD!”

Ask God to examine your heart and inmost thoughts, ask that gentle Counselor to show you where things are off. Ask Truth to show you the gifts and the work that are present in you right now, things you don’t have to wait for but can partake in now. If you have trusted in God and are on the path of discipleship to enter His Kingdom, then these things abound, I promise you.

I’m praying for you, friend, this morning and throughout today. Will you pray for me, too? I can write this because I’m living it. No pointing fingers here, unless it’s just to show you my own scars and tell you, “Me too.”

Tasty bites to get you started:

Psalm 34:3, “Oh, magnify the LORD with me, and let us exalt His name together.”

Psalm 34:8, “Taste and see that the LORD is good, blessed is the man (or woman) who trusts in Him!”

Psalm 34:15, “The eyes of the LORD are on the righteous, His ears are open to their cry.”

Psalm 69:29-33, “But I am poor and sorrowful;

Let Your salvation, O God, set me up on high.

 I will praise the name of God with a song,

And will magnify Him with thanksgiving.

This also shall please the Lord better than an ox or bull,

Which has horns and hooves.

The humble shall see this and be glad;

And you who seek God, your hearts shall live.

For the Lord hears the poor,

And does not despise His prisoners.

(And because there are still more words before I can click save and post: If today is hard because of your relationship with your own mother, can I gently ask if your ideal of what she should’ve been is the idol? Maybe you deserved better, I’ll trust you on that, but maybe what you do have--God’s goodness, love, forgiveness, grace--should have a bigger headline.)

Little Days: A few stories about books

Do you remember how Ayla learned to say "No, no" from reading Sandra Boynton's Moo, Baa, La La La, and how I said I was not going to let her read any more books?

Feb 2012

Well, I lied. She continues to read books and I'm actually pretty happy about it! I thought I'd share with you some fun ways other books have influenced her.

1) Good Night, Virginia: Her favorite page is the one with Monticello on it. We've never been there, but are planning to go soon. She thinks any big, brick house is Monticello, and a few days ago started chanting it while pointing at a box of wine bottles while we were in line at the store. I was puzzled until I saw that the plantation house on the box did look similar to Monticello. The cashier was very impressed.

2-3) Elmo's ABC Book: Though she already knew her alphabet when we got this book, it has taught her a few other things (who Elmo is being one of my least favorite!). When she describes any food, she calls it "delicious and crunchy," because that's what it says about apples, and then she says that food starts with "A." For example, "Bagels are delicious and crunchy. Bagel starts with A." She also likes to tell the knock-knock joke Elmo is telling Oscar in picture 3. Oh, I'm not going to tell you which joke it is, though. You'll have to hear it from Ayla herself!

4) Olivia: We checked this one out from the library, and I thought it was pretty cute the first couple of times I read it to her. Of course, it was her favorite book and had to be read several times a day. (I was very happy to take it back today!) On a separate note, Ayla has been slow to give names to any of her stuffed animals. So far she has JoJo the purple unicorn, Gato the cat, Henry the rocking horse, which is of course not to be confused with Horse the zebra. All the others are the animal's name or its derivative. After reading Olivia, however, Ayla decided her pink doggy's name is Ian. (Ian is Olivia's little brother in the book.)

5-6) Anna Banana and Me: My friend, Heather, sent me this book long before Ayla existed. I introduced it to Ayla about a month ago and it's in constant rotation now. She especially likes how Anna Banana says she's swinging "over the treetops,"and always asks to go that high.

(I'm linking up with my friend Shannon for Little Days, an effort to chronicle the little things we enjoy about raising our little ones. Click over to her sweet blog to see others.)

Little Days: What She's Up To

Photo courtesy of Grandma C

Ayla is going through her own version of Spring. Every day, something new shows up in her vocabulary or skill set. She's in a fun season of blossoming and growing, even though the growing causes a little pain at times.

My friend, Shannon, started the series Little Days to capture the little moments that make parenthood so special, and I'm linking up with her today. I'll share two little phrases that symbolize what my girl is up to these days.

"I do it byself"
Forget July 4th, every day is independence day around here! I'm convinced Ayla combined two words into one because she just doesn't have time to slow down. There are car seats to climb and be buckled into, milk cups to pour and put lids onto. There are panties to pull down and toilet seats to climb on, teeth to brush and hair bows to put in, shoes and socks to get on and off (mostly off).  Never ask God for patience, just ask Him for a toddler in the "byself" phase! Patience is a must! Her dad let me in on one of his effective techniques with her, to allow a "byself" as long as I get a turn, too-- and I apply it liberally!







"Going down bear/bare belly"
This is how she insists on going down the stairs. I have no idea which variation of bear/bare she is using. I don't know where she got this idea or why it's called this. She has so much fun and hasn't hurt herself yet, so I allow it. I'm just glad we live in a house with only two stories instead of our skinny townhouse with four!




Check in next week for another "Little Days" post, and be sure to click over to The Scribble Pad to see Shannon's adorable little boys!

Ayla's Baby

A lot of my friends are having or have had babies recently (actually, I guess that's always happening).

To put that another way, a lot of Ayla’s friends are getting little brothers or little sisters.

For her, that means a lot of “babies in bellies,” are becoming “babies out of bellies,” and because her mama is addicted to babies, that also means we are doing a lot of visiting these new babies.

As I was putting her to bed a few nights ago, we were discussing the new baby she had met and the baby in belly she had kissed that day and the new baby we were going to see the next day.

She processed the information for a minute and said, “Ayla baby in belly,” rubbing her own precious chub.

I was transported for a moment to a time in the future, where, God willing, I will be holding Ayla’s baby the way I was holding her right then.

I will look at my proud daughter, love leaking out her eyes, and know she finally knows.

She’ll finally know how great this love is. She’ll know why I took way more than a thousand pictures of her during her first year. Why I grab her and kiss her all over a hundred times a day. Why sometimes I stare at the monitor to see her when she’s sleeping because I miss her even though I’ve waited for nap time all day.  Why I will read her that book again and even one more time after that.

“No,” I told her, when I could speak again, “You don’t have a baby in your belly, but someday when you grow up, you can have one. You used to be a baby in Mommy’s belly.”

“Mommy baby in belly,” she said, patting my not-so-precious chub.

“There’s not a baby there right now,” I said. “We are asking God for a baby in mommy’s belly so Ayla can have a baby brother or sister. Do you want that?”

“Uh huh.”

Though she doesn’t sound completely convinced, I am glad that by the time she does get a brother or sister, be it through birth or adoption, she will be old enough to understand and maybe even to remember helping Mommy and Daddy pray for him or her.

(Will you join us in prayer for that, too? Y’all did so well in praying Ayla in, I’d love to have you along for the sequel! Thank you!)

Twenty-five months

My dear Ayla,

You are two now. Two and a month, technically.

Two (and too) is your favorite word. You worked so hard to learn how to show two with your fingers, and though you can say your whole name, when someone asks what your name is, you proudly say, “TWO!” I gotta admit, even with all the new challenges this age brings, it’s my favorite one so far, too.

Speaking of, you’re really into the word and concept of “too.” “Mocha go nigh-night too!” “Daddy eat too!” “Mommy go pee pee too!” (We’ll get to the potty training fun we’ve been having later.) You’re good at doing things by yourself, but if you can get someone (or someanimal as it often is the case) else to do it “too,” you’re thrilled.

When people were asking me what you were into for birthday present choosing, it was hard to answer. What aren’t you into? You love everything outdoors and moving, just like your parents. You love building towers with your blocks or tea set, throwing balls around and asking “where are you?” as you chase them, and jumping on mommy and daddy’s bed. You love to color, though coloring for you is mostly handing me the crayon and telling me what to draw. I don’t mind. I like to draw for you. I’m getting pretty good at the kitties and doggies you always “request.” You love animals, your toys and real ones.

You love singing and anything having to do with music. We get a kick out of you singing along at bedtime now and the repertoire of songs you know is growing daily. Now that Daddy has his keyboard set up, you constantly try to play the “pinano” with him (or by yourself).

You love to read. I am amazed at how fast you learn your books and it’s been fun to have you participate in the reading. We’ve consented to letting you have a book in bed with you when you go to sleep, and it’s the book that usually wins over the animals for cuddling when you finally conk out.

You’re a bit of an adrenaline junky. You build obstacles for yourself and your toys to climb over, and you’ve discovered about 15 different ways to get down your slide.

 Almost every day, you successfully convince your daddy to give you plenty of “weeee,” which can mean anything from spinning you around in a laundry basket, to throwing you up high in the air, to helping you do somersaults. We’re both cherishing these days before you get too big for this.

Oh, but you are a big girl now. We still have you rear-facing in the car, since you’re only 25 pounds, and you still sleep in your crib (though you are getting close to climbing out). But we’ve said goodbye to diapers (except for sleeping) and you always remind me, “no pee pee in panties!” when you’re getting dressed.  I am SO proud of you for learning how to use the big potty and for telling us when you need to go. I figured if you could learn to play games on my iPhone in less than 30 seconds, you could be potty trained, and I was right!

Right now you’re learning what “my” and “mine” mean and what they don’t mean. Play dates can get a little tense when you insist that your friends’ toys are yours, or when you’re not ready to share toys that actually are yours. Wise friends have reminded me that we all went through this phase, and some grownups are still in it, so I have hope you’ll learn that sharing and giving is more fun than keeping something to yourself. I can’t say that I mind too much, though, when you refer to us as “MY mommy” and “MY daddy!”

I don’t know if there’s a technical term for being mentally organized, but I think you might be that. You process information very well in lists. I often hear you reciting lists, such as the activities available at the playground, the friends you played with in various settings, the elements of a good birthday party, or the rules about spitting. This translates to physical organization too, as you are my big helper with putting toys away in the correct box. You keep this up and I’m going to put you in charge of my closet!

I can’t capture everything about you in words, and even if I could I probably wouldn’t want to take the time away from being with you to record it all. Realistically, I probably won’t be blogging about you for the rest of your childhood. You’ll have to share some of the spotlight with future brothers and sisters and maybe someday you’ll even have a blog of your own.

For now, though, I still find myself watching you in awe and gratitude. You are mine. Don’t you ever doubt or forget that!

The King in the Cave

The year I was pregnant, I read a beautiful poem by Madeleine L'Engle (here, scroll down to the bottom) at Advent service my church holds for the women of the community. The service was so beautiful and meaningful, that I dreamed of presenting an original piece at it. A few weeks ago, I was asked to write a poem for this year's service. We've been studying David in our various women's Bible studies, so the theme of the Advent service was looking at Jesus through the line of David.

Here's what I wrote:

The King in the Cave
by Anna Carpenter


Can you imagine a boy
who knew less what it meant to be king
Than the ruddy shepherd David?

He knew flocks and fields for sure
He could fling a stone with the best of them
Lions and bears, no problem. 

But ruling a nation?
Out of all his brothers,
Prophet Samuel poured the oil on him!

God chose him!
The least likely, dirtiest,
manure-freshest one of the bunch.

Israel had crowned only one other king.
So what could David
Possibly imagine was in his future?

He probably did not guess giants.
Or being the royal harp-boy.
Or spending years hiding in caves.

Were these hard, dark places
Filled with the lost, last and least
Really where God wanted him to be?

What of that promise and early successes?
What of princes? And princesses!?
Was this what it meant to be king?

What heartache and anger
We know that he felt
As he poured out his words on the page.

“The LORD is my rock
And my fortress
And my deliverer!

My God, my strength,
in whom I will trust
My stronghold.”

That hope kept paving
His humble path to the throne
A long journey he never expected.=

From the cave he emerged
To be king at last
With a heart after God’s very own.

The first in a forever line
Of covenant kings
Started out in a shepherd’s robe.

Is it any wonder, then, that shepherds
Were the first to hear the news?
An angelic announcement of the royal birth!

“You there, with your staffs and sandals
You dirty, manure-fresh bunch
Come! See a king born today in a cave!”

God Himself, King of the World
Stripped out of Majesty’s claims
Wrapped once in flesh then swaddled in rags.

A cradle of stone and pillow of straw
Attended by animals
sharing their stalls.

Jesus, the long-awaited son of David
Born to wear the crown
Found the least-likely way to achieve it.

He fulfilled every prophecy about him
While turning every expectation
Absolutely upside down.

He wandered in deserts
Pardoned thieves
Dined with the last, lost and least

He was challenged and threatened
Denied and betrayed
And finally brutally murdered

The throngs of angels
Heralding his birth in song
Were held silent at his death

Once again God made flesh
Humbled himself
To be wrapped up and laid in a cave.

Where are you now,
O child of the King?
You there, with your pains and sorrows.

Is your promise elusive,
Your path full of stones,
Your dream lost in the darkness?

Is your journey much longer
Than you could’ve imagined
Your foes in constant pursuit?

If you think that the cavernous
Place where you’re stuck is too
Far for the light to break through,

Don’t you dare give up hope,
As you cry to the sky
The story’s not over yet.

My friend can’t you see
The miracle here,
The heart that God’s building in you?

You may be waiting
But He hasn’t stopped
No, nothing about Him has changed.

The King of the Universe
still loves to do
Some of His best work in caves!

(Feel free to share this, just kindly link back to this blog. Thanks!)

Boxes are fun toys

Relevant picture of cute child

When I posted my status on Facebook today about packing, I went back and read the post I wrote about having our house on the market and I realized I'm long overdue for an update.

(short version)
We're under contract! Hooray! Praise God!

(long version)
We (and by we, I mean mostly me) were getting show weary and after 6 weeks on the market with no offers, talked to our realtor about taking it off. She encouraged us to wait until after the election, since people were waiting on big decisions until then and we agreed. That was a Monday.

That Monday was the day after we got home from a wonderful vacation with my parents. It took us a few days to unpack and put things away, but in those few days people kept showing up to look at the house. Now, to back up a few weeks, I had spent several very stressful and long-hour days early in September getting the house "staged" to show. And if you wondered, it is not like the shows where the stagers come and send the owners off and they come back to a delightfully lovely show-ready house. Ha!

If I thought it was hard to stage the house, it was even harder to live in a staged house, being ready at the drop of a hat to have someone come through it. That's why I was show-weary. And that's why I was taking my time unpacking from vacation, because with no appointments to see the house, I was enjoying just getting to live in it and let Ayla play with all her stuff.

So, Sunday we get home, Monday we decided to stay on the market a bit longer, Thursday a couple shows up to see the house without having called me first. Our place was a mess! Probably not hoarder style mess, but definitely not show ready. I let them come in and see it since they had gone to all the trouble to come, I just apologized profusely for the mess and asked them to please come see it during the open house that weekend when it would be beautiful. They were very kind about it and mentioned that they didn't mind getting to see what it would look like when they lived there.

The following Monday they came to see it again, with an appointment, and the next day they put in an offer! Full asking price with no seller subsidy. This was such an answer to prayer. The week before we put our house on the market, two other houses in our neighborhood went on. Since we're in a townhouse community, all the houses are virtually identical. Ours has a few more upgrades than the others that are (still) for sale, but I think the main difference was the mess. Had to be!

That was about three weeks ago and we close in another three weeks and have passed all the hurdles between offer and closing so far. The home inspection and appraisal came back with expected results and the couple seems really excited to move in and start making this their home.

Meanwhile, we've been looking for a place for us to live between now and next summer. Of course God answered this prayer, too, and provided us with a beautiful rental house in our price range right in the neighborhood we wanted with a landlord who was willing to do a short-term lease. We're moving in over there this weekend, though we can take our time before having to be out of here.

We are still looking for a new family for Mocha. The Virginia family I mentioned before turned out to have dog allergies, which may have been important information to know before they started looking for a dog, but at least they found out before adopting her!

She's got a new best friend, though, who would spend every waking moment with her if we'd let her!

Cute child with new best friend

And in completely unrelated moving news, Ayla's hair is long enough for this now.

A letter to me (now) from me (now)

Hey you/me,

Nice hair (ha ha, inside joke).

I just wanted to let you know that it’s ok. It’s ok that you aren’t pregnant this month and it’s ok that you really wanted to be and it’s ok to be (a little) sad about it.

It’s ok that most of your friends who were pregnant with you the first time are pregnant again or already have had their next round of babies. I promise you, the next time you are pregnant, someone else in the world will be pregnant at the same time.  It’s even likely that you will know one or more of them.

And if you never get pregnant again?

That will be ok, too. Remember how hard it was to lay down your desire to give birth to a baby? To leave it in the trustworthy hands of your Abba Father? I know you still wanted it after that, but you knew life WOULD go on. It was still two more years of wanting after that, but they were FULL, weren’t they?

Your life is full now. You have a kind, brilliant and strong husband and a darling, thriving daughter.

You have friends out the wazoo, and make more daily it seems. I could go on and on about the free country you live in, the amazing technology you have access to, everything that is just right here at your fingertips.

But those aren’t the things that make you full, and you know that. Christ alone fills. He came, lived, died, rose, filled. It would have been enough, as you say at Pesach.  He is enough. Don’t forget it.

Don’t forget about your other friends, either. The ones who will forever carry in their hearts the babies they will never hold in their arms. The ones who are still waiting for even just a positive pregnancy test. Even just that would be a miracle for some of those girls you love so dearly.  Don’t forget about those parents who are waiting simply for words on paper so they can kiss the soft heads of children who have been waiting just as long for them.

If you keep thinking about others like this, you may even remember your friends who are single, who would love to even get to the “WE are trying,” phase. 

You may even get the idea that everyone you come into contact with is waiting on, wanting something. You may have compassion or understanding for them. In fact, you only have one child to hold, so that gives you a free arm to throw around someone else’s shoulder and say, “Me too!”

Oh, it’s ok that you want another baby to hold in that arm, but there’s no reason for it to be empty for now. Ok?

Big, Not-Pregnant, News

When I blogged my pregnancy news, I snuck it in the comments of a post about a Walmart being constructed across the street (It didn't turn out to be of the Neighborhood variety after all). When my husband was deploying overseas for a year, I came up with a cute story about our dog, Mocha, taking a big trip (She didn't end up going with John, but has gone to live with her cousin in Texas).

Well, the news I have to share now is probably equally as big, but I'm just going to straight up tell you.

Next summer, we're moving to "EssAy" for two years.

I know, I said I was going to just tell you, but we do need a little bit of a code. I'm careful with what gets posted here so we don't end up in some crazy search results. However, you are smart enough to get this one easily.

Just imagine the word above is sounding out the initials for a big, oil-rich country where women can't drive and I won't have to worry about pork being in any of our food, and you've got it!

So far away and so hot, you're thinking. Yes.

We're excited though. We've talked about living overseas, especially in that region, since before we were married. Though we've both been deployed and traveled extensively, this will be our first time actually living together abroad. We'll find out for sure if this is the life for us.

From our visit to Turkey this summer. 

I don't know many of the details of us going yet, and I'm trying not to think about the leaving part right now. I'm sure you'll be hearing about it plenty, though!

I do have two big prayer requests regarding the move, if you are into the praying sort of thing.

First, we are trying to find a new home for Mocha. She is such a wonderful pet and we'd love to keep her, but where we're going is not very dog friendly, especially the kind of dog who needs space to run around outside. I've pleaded and bugged everyone on Facebook and we've placed Craigslist ads. Right now there is one family here in Virginia who is interested, but we have to get her here from Texas (where she's been since last February!) first, meet them and be in mutual agreement. Please pray we find her a good home and that she adjusts to them well.

Second, we have our house on the market. This could be a post unto itself and probably will be, but if you've ever sold your home, you know what we're facing. Even though we're not moving overseas until next year, we thought we'd try to take advantage of the slight rise in the housing market our area is having. It's been about a month and we've had no offers yet, but we're going to wait a few more weeks. If we don't sell now, we'll try again in the spring. We just thought it would be nice to sell with no real time crunch. Obviously if we don't sell in the spring, renting is an option, just not our preferred one right now. Please pray we stay in perfect peace throughout this process and keep our eyes on our true Source

Thanks, friends! I'll be sure to report when we see movement on either of these. By the way, thank you for reading after all these months of sabbatical (yeah, I'm gonna call it that).

How are you doing?

A little video to illustrate my last blog

Having a ball dancing

(no endorsement of lyrics implied!)

(Also, you may need to come to my actual blog to watch, may not work in reader or email.)

Eighteen Months

Dear Ayla,
Eighteen months ago, around this time (late at night), I got to meet you for the first time. I was just so excited that you were here, that you were you (a girl I got to name Ayla) and that you were mine, really with no idea what my life would be like with you in it.

It's been a hard year, baby girl, not gonna lie to you (ever), but you kept me going and made it all kinds of wonderful. Now your daddy is home from his deployment and we're learning how to be a family. You are discovering how much fun Daddy is and remembering that his strong arms are the best place to be (whether cuddling or swinging or tickling or dancing).

Even though I've been with you every day of your life, I still look at you and marvel. I love seeing you in a new light as Daddy gets to know you all over again.

You started walking about 4 months ago and now you're so good at it, you aren't content to just walk anymore. You're practicing new styles of walking, such as with a swagger, on your toes, with a little knee bend added in or just running. You're also becoming quite the dancer. I love to watch you stop whatever you doing to do a little boogie when you hear music. It actually doesn't even require music, if you hear pounding, buzzing or the beat in your heart, your feet start a jig.

One of your favorite things to do is slide. You call it "outside," even though you understand that outside is also "outside." You turn anything with the slightest angle into a slide. The back of the couch? Easy. The side of the tub? Yup (not that I let you do this, but you still try). A pillow on the floor? The slight incline between the driveway and parking lot? My bent legs? Angle + you = slide.

You are great at playing games. I think we make up 50 new ones a day, but your favorite is to pretend to go "nigh-night." You're not really picky about the surface, sometimes there's a pillow involved, sometimes it's just the floor of the Women's Memorial at Arlington National Cemetery. You lay down on your back, say "nigh-night," then go, "shhh, shhh." It's pretty cute, but your comfort with dirty floors may not reflect well on my parenting style.

As for actual sleep, that's still a moving target, with emphasis on the moving rather than the still. I wish I could record our view on the baby monitor to show you someday how much you move around while you sleep. You dropped your morning nap a few months ago and your afternoon nap is anywhere from 1-3 hours. Or no hours, like today. You do sleep a good 11-12 hours at night and for that you are greatly loved. You're a big fan of getting sung to before bed and now that you've learned to say and sign "again," you get lots and lots of songs. Your dad and I both love that you say "Amen," after we pray. I can't wait to hear what you pray about when you start to say your own.

And, girl, you are saying so much! I counted today and you're at 102 words, and that's not including all the words you sign or body parts you know or animal sounds you can make. You don't really babble, instead you just pick a few words and say them over and over. I can even consider you bi-lingual, since you insist on calling "water" "agua," even to the point of correcting me. You've put two words together a few times, such as "No Mommy," or "Bye-bye Daddy," but no real sentences yet. One of my favorites is how whenever you hear us say "now," you say, "Now-I-Know," (from the ABC song) as if it's one word. Oh, and I also love how when I try to comfort you when you fall, you mimic me repeating as you cry, "I know, I know," as you pat my shoulder.

I probably take the falling harder than you do. Oh, I know you're tough and maybe like me you're a little clumsy, but I just hate to see all the bruises and scratches marring your beautiful baby skin. You're so bold and adventurous, like your daddy. Other parents comment about this when they see you on the playground or in the soft play room. Usually that's right before you tumble off a step or climb right over their child on your way to go down yet another slide. I hope we can add some thoughtfulness to that courage soon.  You'll really be unstoppable then!

Like most kids your age, you love climbing on anything, opening and closing doors, putting lids on and taking them off, stacking things and then knocking them down. You love balls, bubbles and balloons. You're learning about sharing your toys with your friends, although right now sharing to you means, "give that back to me."

"Sharing" with your birthday buddy, Behr. 

You do throw your fair share of tantrums, but you snap out of them pretty quickly. We haven't started time outs with you yet because usually a simple, "No!" or smack on the hand gets your attention. I'm not really looking forward to the discipline phase, but I know it's one of the most important aspects of my job, so we'll get through it.

Every day I thank God for you, and today I thank Him for eighteen months of awesome joy with you.
You are my jewel, today and always!

Thoughts near the finish line

Hello, my name is Anna. It's been 120 days since my last blog.

Wow. That's a long time. It's as long as Air Force deployments used to be. At least I blogged while I was deployed (back in the MySpace blog days). While I could spend this whole post giving excuses and explaining why it's been so long and what I've been up to, I won't. Not now anyway.

I'm writing now because my year "alone" is almost over and that seems to call for a blog post. I've been doing quite a bit of reflection on the past year, trying to sift through all the excitement of anticipating John's homecoming and just everyday busyness of raising a toddler, to find nuggets of what I learned or how I changed or the meaning in it all.

I imagine I'll be sorting a lot of that out in the next few weeks, and hope to write about it here. I will tell you a few of the things I'm aware will be different once John gets home. While it's been hard in so many ways to have lived separately for the past year, we have done as most humans do and found coping mechanisms to help us through it and most of those will be irrelevant once we're together, so we'll have to unlearn them. For me, I'm thinking about:

* Where I focus my time and energy
I've had the luxury (?) of being able to devote almost all my time and energy to Ayla. I hear that most new moms do this anyway, but I haven't had to feel torn about it since John hasn't been here to remind me that he needs me, too. On our last vacation together (Turkey. 3 weeks in May. It was awesome. Yeah, I'm really behind here.), it was very obvious who gets most of me. It was very hard for me to remember a time when I wasn't thinking about her schedule, what she needed to eat, how much sleep she had, where potentially dangerous objects were, what sounds what animals make, more sounds more animals make, how dirty the floor was that thing had fallen on before being in her mouth, and so on. Oh, husband, what?

* How I take care of our home
John is not a husband who judges or complains when the house isn't spic and span, and he certainly does a fair share of the housework. That said, I'm kind of in charge of stuff getting done here, since I am here more, and I have given myself a lot of grace this past year. For his part, he's had a house guy taking care of his laundry, cleaning, and cooking. We both know I'm not that guy, but we'll just have to figure out what this all looks like, at least until Ayla can start pulling her own weight!

* How I take care of myself
Yes, I know John will love me no matter what my hair looks like or how late in the day I wear my pajamas. However, what he is attracted to and what Ayla is attracted to are very different things, so I just need to consider that.

Really, these are issues all, if not most, couples and parents work through. This is the work of marriage, which has looked different for us over the past year.

So, yes. I am excited about him coming home, about him discovering the wonder that is being with our daughter every day, and reconnecting with my best friend. I'm excited about having his help, his insight and his presence. I'm excited about the season stretching out in front of us that has no looming departures or separations from each other. Remember, we knew he was leaving for most of my pregnancy, so everything since then has been tinged with his impending or actual absence.

But I'm also so aware of how intentional we will need to be to do the needed repairs and maintenance to our marriage for it to continue being the healthy, safe place it is. I know we're both selfish, sinful people who need tons of grace as we settle back into an "us."

 I'm more and more convinced every day that healthy marriages that last don't happen accidentally. I'm blessed beyond belief that I'm married to a man I love and am excited to be with, who loves me and is willing and ready to do this work together.

Now, I just need him to step off that plane and into my arms!

We're almost there, people, almost there!

Weaned!

Hmm... a blog about weaning. Exciting reading for a Friday night.

My goal was to nurse Ayla for a year and wean her around her first birthday. I'm so grateful to say that we made it! I know that breastfeeding isn't easy or possible for all moms, and even though it clicked right away for us, I never took for granted that we were able to do it for as long as we did.

In deciding to wean at a year, here are some of the things I was worried about or concerned with:

1) I didn't start her on dairy until her first birthday. I know a lot of people start their kids on yogurt and cheese earlier, and I probably should've, I just waited until one for a lot of things. So, I was concerned with how I was going to keep her hydrated during the transition from breast milk to cow's or another type of milk. Then, when I did give her cow's milk (fresh, raw, organic, delicious stuff!), she would have nothing to do with it.

2) She stopped drinking from a bottle at some point around 8 months. She never had confusion with a  pacifier or bottle early on, but by that point she hadn't had a bottle in so long, and had already discovered the fun of straws, that she just wouldn't take a bottle. However, she didn't drink much of anything (pumped breast milk, diluted juice or water) from anything else. I tried several different sippy cups, and she would just drink one or two sips.

3) I'd read about different ways to wean, and had decided to save the bedtime feeding for last. The problem I anticipated was transitioning away from that when I didn't have her dad here to introduce her to a new routine at night that didn't involve nursing. The last several weeks, when we were down to just that once, she was clearly and quite frantically requesting it, which she had never done before.

4) One thing I loved about nursing was the confidence I had in knowing my baby was getting exactly what she needed from me, especially when she was sick or teething or just being picky and not eating much else. I wasn't as confident in anything else being able to supply that for her after we were done.

Compounding all these concerns was learning that she only gained three ounces from her 9-month-checkup to her one-year, which isn't unusual as babies get more active. It's just not something a mother likes to hear. When we went back to the doctor for a follow-up visit a month later, Ayla had lost weight! Really not what I was expecting! The doctor suggested I stop giving her water, which was all she would drink at that point, and give her something like formula, with more calories. Several of my friends suggested using coconut milk, and after a few days, she chugged the stuff down!

I was also experiencing the emotional toll of the hormone shift from the decrease in nursing, was feeling very mushy about her turning one, wondering if her increased fussiness was due to the weaning process or separation anxiety or teething or something else, and didn't want to lose any of the intimate bonding we had built up. As sure as I was about wanting to wean at a year, I was unsure about how it was going to work.

(Are you completely bored yet? Sorry. 

I don't know why I'm writing about this. Maybe because it seems like a big milestone?)

I planned to use John's visit home in February to eliminate the bedtime feeding, by pumping and having him put her to bed, and slowly transition from breast milk to coconut milk. However, she didn't acclimate to being alone with him for the first few days, then we went on a trip, then we had people over every night, then we went on another trip, so I just kept nursing her.

At some point shortly before he came home, that nursing session had become pretty unpleasant, though. She would fall asleep, which would've been great except she would wake up screaming and frantic when I pulled her off to switch sides. She'd never done that before. Also, she usually played with my ears or nose while nursing, but she began to really yank and scratch and be quite violent for a one-year-old, then lose it when I'd put her down. It was very frustrating for both of us, so I knew it was time to be done.

(Don't worry, I'm almost done with this post, too!)

It ended up happening almost accidentally. The day after we got home from Costa Rica we got a babysitter so we could go on a date. (Didn't I mention we went on vacation to Costa Rica? Oops, more on that to come, then!) I figured we'd be back early enough that if Ayla hadn't gone to sleep yet, I could still nurse her. But she had gone down just fine. The next night when I put her down without nursing, she didn't even mention it. And that was that.

That was almost two weeks ago. Since then, my big, happy girl also started drinking (fresh, raw, organic, delicious) cow's milk, mostly because I ran out of coconut milk and she didn't even notice the switch.

I'm also thankful that I didn't have any engorgement issues when we stopped. It even makes me wonder if she was getting so frustrated towards the end because she wasn't getting much, if anything.

I really should take a lesson from myself here. So far, every thing I've been worried about in parenting hasn't been that bad when I actually get to it. I certainly learned some things I will do different next time, if given the opportunity, such as:
1) Not worry so much about it. If I'd have known how easy it was going to be, I'd have done it sooner!
2) Schedule in a regular bottle feeding so the baby stays acclimated, then transition to cup at appropriate age.
3) Start the baby on higher-(good)fat foods earlier to make up for the drop in calories from weaning.
4) Not worry so much about it.

Now, if I could only figure out how to get her to start walking.

(I'm kidding, I'm kidding! I'm not rushing her on that!)

I almost forgot to add a picture of the source of all this absolutely-worth-it fuss!

See, happy as can be!