An apology, and pictures to win you back!

Just wanted to apologize for all the complaining from last week. (I should have been restricted from coming near the computer, considering the state we were in!) As a peace offering I've provided cute pictures of my baby girl (learning to use a big girl spoon!) to hopefully convince you to return to our blog without fearing you'll find a self-pitying, whiny rant from an overworked, overtired, underpaid (ha!) mom. Even if that's what I am, I'm seeking a new attitude (see below).

We're all better now, except for a terrible cold that Ellie has, but compared to last week we feel great. I finally took Jack to the doctor to check his hydration, because he was refusing to drink for such long periods of time. They said he has a stomach "bug" that's going around up here, and that kids were out in large numbers in the schools. Friends of mine with school-aged kids said they missed a whole week, with exactly the same symptoms as Jack (throwing up, high fever for four days straight, and no appetite). So I was relieved on the one hand to hear that we were not alone. But it didn't make it a whole lot easier to deal with at home. His fever finally broke Friday during his nap--he woke up with a sweat-soaked shirt, and his skin finally felt normal again. He started asking for food and actually using real words and even played a little bit. Welcome back, baby!

After my early morning post on Friday (which I realize was annoyingly whiny) I did finally get to a "better place" in my heart (thanks to your comment, Andrea, that convicted and encouraged me to seek Christ despite all my earthly complaints!). One thing that really helped me was a quote I remembered from a recent read in some Beth Moore book, where she said, "We can change the way we think, and that will change the way we feel." In other words, so many of our feelings stem from our thinking, from the thoughts we entertain or dwell on, whether they be positive or downright depressing or despairing.

I also thought of that verse in 2 Corinthians 10 about taking our thoughts captive and making them obedient to Christ, and how she (Beth) clarifies this as, "Thinking the thoughts of Christ toward a person or situation." So I began to try and think about my "situation," with all the lack of sleep (and physical discomfort of being almost 8 months pregnant), and the whiny, whiny kid, and the loneliness I struggled with as Eric was working so late. I tried hard to find some Scripture (i.e. Christ's thoughts) to help me get new perspective, and the one that I kept coming back to is the familiar one in Romans 5:3-5:

"Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us."

I know it might sound lame to even label what I was going through as "suffering," but stay with me for a minute. I sure FELT like I was suffering. I was beaten down physically, emotionally, and probably spiritually as well, seeing as how I hadn't been seeking the Lord other than to offer somewhat self-centered prayers of, "Help me!" So as I looked for Scripture on suffering, it made me think of friends that we have who are truly in places of great suffering--mourning the loss of a loved one, or fighting lengthy infertility battles, or dealing with chronically sick children, or living day to day with tremendous physical pains--friends who continue to persevere and have faith in the midst of these incredibly hard situations. It made my "suffering" seem so small in comparison. I know that all kind of hardship is valid to a point, but at the same time it helped me--by changing my thinking--to not feel so full of despair or hopelessness to consider the scale of my current situation.

At the same time, this verse encouraged me to keep plugging along, and to realize that ANY type of suffering, no matter how big or small, gives us the opportunity to "build our muscles" spiritually and allow Christ to grow endurance and perseverance in us, ultimately building our character to be more like His and enlarging our hope and faith.

I admit that I still struggled through the day--struggled to be kind and patient in my responses to the constant whining and grumpiness, tended toward massive complaining, and battle self-pity. A lot. Then at one point during the day Ellie was pulling all the books off the bookshelf and she toddled over and handed me "The Dangerous Duty of Delight" by John Piper. I have never read it, but as I thumbed through it I found a chapter labeled, "Pursuing Pleasure Undermines Pride and Self-Pity." Hm. Self-pity? I found this quote to be quite enlightening,

"The nature and depth of human pride are illuminated by comparing boasting to self-pity. Both are manifestations of pride. Boasting is the response of pride to success. Self-pity is the response of pride to suffering... Boasting is the voice of pride in the heart of the strong. Self-pity is the voice of pride in the heart of the weak. Boasting sounds self-sufficient. Self-pity sounds self-sacrificing. The reason self-pity does not look like pride is that it appears to be so needy. But the need arises from a wounded ego. It doesn't come from a sense of unworthiness, but from a sense of unrecognized worthiness. It is the response of unapplauded pride."

Wow. That hit me smack between the eyes. How much had I grumbled and felt sorry for myself, wanting others (anyone who would listen!) to recognize the hardships I was facing and all that I was giving of myself? Even as I recognized my "sufferings" as possibly producing endurance, I continued to desire recognition of my "worthiness" as I endured and persevered. Sounds so ugly to write it out like that, but it's the truth. Plain, 'ole pride strikes again.

(This line of thinking also made me think of another Beth Moore quote, about how self-pity is still a form of self-worship just as much as pride, because we are so focused on our SELF.)

So all of these "new thoughts" combined, about suffering, pride and self-pity, blessed me tremendously and helped me to refocus my thoughts, to keep fighting against my desire to wallow in self-pity and rather to focus on Jesus, and all He is to me, and all He has done for me, and all He is to my children, and so on. It was still hard, yes. I was still tired, yes. I still got frustrated with the whining (oh, did I mention the whining?), yes. But I felt my heart beginning to change as my thinking was redirected, and it felt so good. I hope this trend continues.

Morning Conversation

This morning Jack woke up at 6am, after being up so many times during the night that I lost count. I got him his ice water, then stuck in Toy Story, figuring he'd sit with me likes he's done for four days now and I could get at least an hour and half more sleep before Ellie woke up.

Instead, this is the conversation I've been having for the past two hours:

"Ehh. Ehh. Owww. Help. MOMMEEEEE!"

"Yes, honey?"

"Mommy!"

"Yes, Jack."

"Eeeeee. Eeeee. Owwwie. Mommy. Eh. Eh. Eh."

Moment of silence. Mommy starts to doze off.

"Mommy wake up! Help. Owww. Eh. Eeeeh. Eh."

"Honey, I can't fix it for you if you don't tell me what you want."

"Mom-MEEE!"

"Yes, Jack."

"Ehh. Ehh. Ehhh."

Continued unintelligable groaning, moaning, and whining.

"Honey, what do you need?"

"No! No. No. Mommy, MOMMY! No."

"What is it, Jack?"

(very accusatory:) "MOM-MEEEEEE!"

(Taking every shred of sleep-deprived patience, and a nice deep breath:) "What, Jack?"

"Help!"

This continued for awhile, almost half way through Toy story, with him kicking and pushing and poking me to "wake up" but then never revealing what was wrong or what he wanted or what in the world Mommy was doing wrong. Finally he said this:

"Dora!"

"You want to watch Dora?"

"Dee, Dora!" (his word for "yes")

Ahh!! That's it! I can fix that! Granted, it's only a 30 minute tape, but that's about all I had left anyway. I slowly got up from the couch and dragged my feet over to hunt through twenty tapes until I found Dora. As I took out Toy Story to put in Dora, he started saying:

"Nooo! Nooo!! No, Dora, Mommy! Nooo!! Please, please, Mommy! Owww! Help!!!"

"But you said you wanted Dora, Jack!"

"No! No! No!" (whine, whine, whine, whine, whine, until I am about to lose all patience)

This type of conversation is STILL going on, as I type. I have gotten him three types of food that he seemed elated to be offered at first, but then refused to eat. He watched a little bit of of Dora, in between his whining and his "Mommy's" and his "please, helps!" He's currently still going, "MommEE! MommEEE! MommEEE!" almost exactly in rhythm as I typed those words. I cannot for the life of me figure out what is wrong, and I am so tired, so utterly exhausted, that I can tell my patience odometer is not running well. I just needed a "time out." A place to get out my frustration without taking it out on Jack. I can tell I'm going to need heapings of patience from the Lord today!!!!

Happy Friday, everyone. I hope YOU have time for a shower, for something nice smelling to spritz on, for a cute outfit to feel fresh in, for a nice hot breakfast, complete with a little glass of orange juice and non-soggy buttered toast. May you enjoy stimulating adult conversation today, a few good laughs, and a general appreciation for those you work with. Wishing you a whine-free day full of people who know what they want and ask nicely for it. May you be able to fulfill everyone's needs perfectly and be recognized for your efforts. May you be nice to everyone today, knowing that when five o'clock comes you will be done for the weekend, a little break to refresh yourself and enjoy life.

I better run. Ellie's awake now (I can hear her "ba-ba-ba"ing on the monitor), and the little boy I watch (who's been coming all week, by the way) is due here in about 20 minutes. Oh, and Jack just thought of something he wants and articulated it to me very clearly: the chocolate kisses that are sitting on my desk. Oh, for the love of Pete...CHOCOLATE?

(Just a side note: for a more positive take on mommy-hood read the post below, that I wrote just last night. Oh, what a little sleep wouldn't do for me...)

Just what I needed

Sometime last year I posted a long sob story about how I felt like Jack never wanted me, but seemed to have a strong preference for Eric on almost all occasions, and how much this hurt me. I could never comfort him when he was hurt or sick, or be his heroine and rescue him from the evil nursery workers at church (not really, they're all lovely), or just plain bask in the joy and warmth of being desired.

Well.

Mr. Picky has changed his mind. Apparently I really CAN work magic with my loving mother touch, my soft words, my gigantic belly to sit on. Apparently Mommy is the only one who can make anything better at 1am, and 1:15am, and 1:30am, and 2am, and so on. ALL NIGHT LONG.

Mommy is tired. Daddy is enjoying his sleep.

Ok, so that's not entirely true, as Eric usually lovingly gets up to help me in whatever way he can. It's been a long week, people, with Jack being sick since early Monday evening. He was throwing up until sometime last night, when that finally seemed to pass, but he has also been sporting a 102-104.5 fever that continues to rage on. He has refused to eat or drink anything for long periods of time, and then insists on milk or yogurt, which of course is the one thing the doctor strongly forbid, "Don't let him have any milk or dairy products!" Sad news for a Dairy Addict like my son.

Because he won't eat or drink we haven't been able to give him any medication to get the fever down, so he's been miserable. And the doctor said that in most cases he will keep throwing up food while he has a fever, so he probably shouldn't eat anything until his fever breaks. It's been almost four days now. This kid has got to eat.

They gave him a Tylenol suppository (aren't you glad I shared that?) at the doctor's office and it took three nurses and me to hold him down. Then the nurse shared with me that I had to hold his buttocks together in order to "keep it in" until it had melted and absorbed into his body. She sweetly suggested I find these at either Walgreens or CVS. I looked at her like, "You gotta be kidding me. You want ME to do this at home ALONE?? It took three of you, for crying out loud!" So we've opted to skip the do-it-at-home suppository for now.

We were able to force some Tylenol down this throat last night, which is when he finally, finally, FINALLY slept for about 4-5 hours solid, for the first time in days. I was unfortunately awakened many times during that period by contractions, the same kind of contractions that woke me up when I was in labor with Jack, just before my water broke. The same kind that kept me on pins and needles for days before Ellie was born, holding me in a constant state of, "Is today the day?" So that doesn't put your mind at rest at 3am, when you're only 29 weeks along.

What makes all this even more fun is that Eric is working crazy hours these days. Tomorrow he works 7am-10:30pm. These kind of days make it so difficult for me because there's not a lot to do outside, obviously, with our ridiculously cold weather and the predicted snowfall ahead. And though I had strategically planned an outing to the library tomorrow to help break up our long day, I think we'll have to cancel that since Jack, my walking inferno, has just been too sick to get out. Poor kid.

Today there were many times when he would be just laying on the couch moaning, and he would say, "Mommy? Mommy?" and I would rush to him, only to have him reach out his arms and pull himself onto my lap (more like drape himself across me) and just snuggle. We would sit like that for a few minutes, sometimes five or ten, and then he'd say "All done" and go lay on the couch again. (Another time he fell asleep in my arms for almost forty-five minutes and I got stuck sitting there watching the end of General Hospital because his Dora video ended and remember? No remote.)

It is sweet and wonderful to be wanted, to have your presence desired, to be called upon as One Who Can Meet My Needs. I love the sound of his pathetic little, "Mommy!" when he's sick, as that one word says so much: I need you to come and be with me and make it better and just let me sit with you! You are what I need!

But as much as I've enjoyed being The Preferred One (except at 2am--I wouldn't mind being The Rejected One at 2am), I have also come to a very deep realization. I remember God speaking to me so gently when I felt undesired and unrecognized as Helper and Comforter and even unloved by my own son, when I had so much to offer him; God saying to me, "This is what I feel for you when you reject me, when you don't recognize all that I have to offer you and want to give you and do for you, when you don't see how much I love you and thus do not love me in return." Today as I was pondering this new place of being wanted, I thought about God, and wondered if this is how He feels when I DO come to Him, when I DO recognize who He is and what He can do, when I am awash in His love for me and cannot help but be filled with a heart of love for Him in return. And then it hit me: THANK GOODNESS God is not like me!

Thank goodness God never tires of hearing us call His name. Thank goodness He is there in the dark hours of the morning no matter how many times we cry out to him. He doesn't sigh and toss a pillow across the room. He doesn't get frustrated when we are so ill that we don't know what we want and we keep begging for this or that only to change our minds the second He brings it to us. He doesn't get tired and exhausted from caring for us and responding to our pleas, nor does He tire of holding us and comforting us in our hurts and pains. When we cry out, "Please, God, give me this or that!" He lovingly pulls us to Himself and says, "I know how much you want that, but it will hurt you! I cannot give it to you! It will just make it worse!" (And how much are we like my Jack when we struggle out of His arms and march our way over to the fridge, pulling out the too-heavy-for-us gallon of milk, insistent that we get our way, no matter the warnings we have received.)

And thank goodness God is able to do more than one thing at a time, something I have failed miserably at that this week. All I can do is tend to Jack, tend to Jack, tend to Jack, and the laundry and dishes and meals and Other Important Family Members have suffered as a result. I know it's also the continued lack of sleep but today I found myself turning in a full circle trying to figure out what to tackle next, which chore I was most behind on that I should take advantage of his nap to get done...and then he woke up a full five minutes later. Back to holding, comforting, focusing on him, with the dishes still piled high.

As frustrating and discouraging as this is I was oddly comforted by the impossible-ness of it all, because it was such an obvious reminder that God is made in no man's image; that what I am not capable of, God is more than capable of. That where I fail again and again, God is victorious always. That where my weaknesses fall, God is my strength. That when I drop the ball, God is still miraculously able to keep the earth spinning, to work in my life as a personal comforter and deliverer while at the same time tending to those precious people in Chad displaced in the past few weeks from the instability of their country, protecting our soldiers around the world, comforting the missionary family from our church who just lost their pastor and all his children in a car accident in Brazil, and so many other lives and circumstances that I can only begin to imagine.

Today I needed this reminder. How wonderful that our God speaks to us in every day life, even in our insane, sleep-deprived moments, to show us glimpses of who He is, to help us to understand more fully how much He loves us and how trustworthy He is, to remind us that He is more than able to do more than we could ask or imagine. What an amazing God we serve and love. How I pray to be more like Him!

Testing 1, 2 . . .

  Ellie is bald.

  Look at that.

  No hair.

 

 

 

 

 

You can see the hospital building from where we got her:

Yup, that the room right there, with the window.

 

 

 

We're testing out a new (new to me) blog publisher called Windows Live Writer. It's free from Microsoft. It's so nice to use. One more shot with the pictures . . .

Please, please tell me I can blame this on pregnancy brain.

Because otherwise, well, otherwise I don't know what to think. Here are a few examples of things I've done lately:

--A few days ago Jack asked for ice water, as he often does (this weird child cannot stand juice). So I took out the ice cube trays, filled his cup sitting on the counter, returned the trays to the freezer, and went to fill his cup with water at the sink. Upon filling it up I realized there was no ice in the cup! What the...I know I just put ice in something. I suddenly realized I had put two ice cubes into an open jar of salad dressing that had been sitting next to his sippy cup!

--I finally got fed up with my refridgerator the other morning decided to clean it out. This meant not only scrubbing with hot soapy water, but also getting rid of suspicious foods and jars that have been there waaaay too long. I am not a great one for this job; I am so bad about leaving things in there for Eric to clean out because I cannot, CANNOT stand the smell of bad food. Eric will also tell you that if I am ever in doubt about whether a food is still good or not, I err on the side of HECK NO every single time. So this particular morning as I picked up a jar of baby food peaches from the fridge shelf I tried to remember how long it had been in there. I finally decided to be brave and smell it, figuring if it outright smelled bad then there was no question but to toss it. I opened up the lid, took a quick whiff, and WHOA. That does not smell like peaches anymore! As I breathed through my mouth only I began to rinse out the jar so I could recycle it (yes, I'm responsible that way), and as I did so I caught another whiff. Boy, I thought to myself, peaches-gone-bad kinda smell like squash. Getting a clue, I turned the bottle and checked the label, and sure enough: last night's squash (still perfectly not-bad), down the drain.

(This next example just goes to show how busy we've been, how even with a cool new minivan I haven't been able to get out to buy our family necessities...)

--Last Sunday we skipped church because 1) Eric was working real late Saturday night 2) it was the first Sunday in a long time when we weren't needed at church in some capactiy (nursery, music, etc) and 3) we figured with all the sicknesses going around we would give our kids a break from the germ-laden nursery for once. It would also give us the opportunity to go grocery shopping, since we were two days overdue and out of just about everything. And in saying "everything" I am not exaggerating...milk, bread, fruit, yogurt, anything to cook from the freezer...everything. We somehow fumbled through breakfast with hit or miss foods...graham crackers with one last jar of applesauce for the kids, and syrup-less frozen waffles for Eric and me. The problem came around lunchtime when we were still lagging behind and hadn't made it out yet...the question arose: well, what do we feed our kids? Not wanting to subject them to another fast food meal (as they generally only eat the fries anyway...gross!) we started to pick through our quite-empty fridge. I am embarrassed to say that, much to his delight, Jack ended up having a bowl of ice cream (last bit scraped from the carton) and one scrambled egg for lunch that day! I'm not sure what's worse: this lunch or the time I forgot to feed him altogether.

On a side note: it appears that instead of protecting OUR kids from the infectious church nursery, we were, in fact, protecting the OTHER children from our own...as Jack has spent the last twenty four hours throwing up and battling a 104.5 fever. Go figure.

Bring on the laundry...

Drumroll, please...

Here it is: our new beauty...

...and I have to admit--she's not so bad.

My only bones to pick at the moment are:

1) The fact that the unlock/lock remote control for the doors doesn't work (and yes, we've tried a new battery)

2) Sometimes the key won't go in the lock (so in other words, sometimes I CANNOT get into the car at all...this is especially maddening when I'm standing in the Target parking lot in twenty-degree weather for almost five minutes, with two very cold, very cranky kids, just trying to get the thing unlocked)

3) No CD player, so I've had to dig up my old mix tapes--yes, mix tapes--from high school, which are sort of fun to listen to...but get old really fast.

4) The sliding doors aren't automatic (this isn't the end of the world, of course--just something that for some reason I assumed it would have, and was slightly disappointed to learn I actually have to use my own muscle power to get the doors open...actually, I really wish they had buttons to open automatically for the kids' sake, so they can get in and out easier...but it's not a big issue right now)

Things I DO like?

1) Clean, bright, and spacious on the inside.

2) About eight thousand cup holders.

3) Doesn't hurt my back to put the kids in.

4) Jack can climb into the car by himself.

5) The windshield wipers work beautifully, as does the clock (neither of which functioned in the 4-Runner)

5) It drives well. (Isn't it always fun to drive a new car? I love how the turn signals sound different in different cars. I know. I'm weird.)

6) NO DVD PLAYER. Yes, you heard me right. I am thrilled to no end that we don't have these built in. (This is not to criticize any of you who have this feature...it's my personal preference for our family.) I just feel like our culture is so inundated with TV and entertainment, that come on, can we not drive across town without the kids glued to the tube? Do they not watch enough (too much?) at home already? I hate driving around our town and seeing people next to me in the car with "Dora" or some other kids' show playing. Let's give them a break, for goodness sake! I know a family that has a TV in almost every room of their house--with the exception of the bathrooms. That's six television sets/entertainment centers, people! And yet...they still see the need to have the DVD/TV thing in the car. I just don't get it. So when I say I am "thrilled" that we don't have one, I really mean that I am relieved that we don't even have the option so it's a non-negotiable. I could MAYBE see the value of those portable ones that hang off the driver's and passenger seats for INCREDIBLY LONG BORING drives through cornfields or desert wastelands or something. But my family drove almost 18+ hours one way to Colorado every summer since I was a baby and we never had a TV in our car, ever. And I am not the worse for it (if I can say so humbly). I really hope we can hold out as long as possible and stick to our standard of no TV in the car. It just really bugs me. (Can you tell?)

Ok. Off my soap box. For now.

Thanks for the well-wishes and cheerful exhortations...especially those of you assuring me mini-vans really ARE cool. :) I'm still a bit unsure how "cool" it looks from the outside, so I try to refrain from imagining what I look like driving the thing. And I still hate the idea that we blend into Suburbia so well, that we scream "babies on board" so determindely. I do like your nickname though, Liz, the "MVM"...so close to MVP (i.e. Most Valuable Parent...just kidding, Eric!)

In all seriousness I am very, very grateful for this car and I really do enjoy driving it. I hope you know I'm only half-kidding about looking "cool." I think I just got spoiled when we got the 4-Runner...remember those dumb games we use to play in junior high where you'd pick your four favorite cars, four types of houses, four choices for how many kids you'd want, and four boys you'd be willing to marry, and then somehow someone would narrow it down and tell you your "future"? (What was that called??) I never knew any names or types of cars, and always picked the dumbest ones, usually listing a minivan or two (and only because that's what my family had!). But then one day I noticed the 4-Runner on the road and thought to myself, "Now that is a cool car. I think THAT's my new dream car." So when, out of the blue, my friend called us a couple years ago (when we actually needed a new car) and asked if we were interested in buying their black 4-Runner...it seemed like a childish dream-come-true, and now seems so short-lived.

Ok, that was probably the most boring story I've ever written on our blog. Sorry.

Anyhow...it's getting late and I know I tend toward major tangents this late at night, so I'll sign off...a quite satisfied Odyssey owner and an almost proud-to-be MVM. (I'm getting there.)

(Anyone else know why Blogger won't let me put spaces between my paragraphs? Or why my post won't publish with the font/size I changed it to tonight? Maddening.)

A Farewell Drive

Last week I took the kids out for a last drive in the 4-Runner. It didn't start out that way; there had been a blizzard the day before, so we went through the Arboretum for some snowy forest views (so glad I brought my camera). I have been getting major cases of cabin fever lately, with all the bad (i.e. cold, windy, snowy) weather we've been experiencing. Just the thought of getting out to do ANYTHING is appealing. It wasn't until I was out there driving around that I realized this was our last day with the car, and how better to bid her farewell than to let her stretch her wings and show off her stuff on these icy, snowy roads? (I'll miss her 4 wheel drive for sure!) The kids enjoyed it; we stopped for a special treat of "fwies" on the way so Jack was quite contented (Mommy got a "watte" instead. And she was very content...). Enjoy our winter wonderland pictures, and pay your last respects to my favorite car ever.

We bought a car. In a blizzard.

Well, we've done it. Crossed the threshold. We are officially parents. Officially suburbanites. We are now the not-sure-we're-proud owners of a Honda Odyssey, a.k.a. a minivan. We knew this step was coming, as our current baby--I mean car--won't fit three carseats across. And if there are any more kids in our future I don't want to be buying yet another car in a few years so we decided to take the big leap. After attending a seminar at our bank on buying and financing a car a few weeks ago, we decided that it would be a good time to take a look around as it was nearing the end of the month (the best time to buy a car, we had learned). The only day we could go out was the 31st, so we arranged for our gracious friends Amy and Brandon to watch our kids so we could drive an hour north to check out our first prospect.

Everything was going fine until the weatherman announced a winter storm watch for Thursday evening, but we decided to brave it anyway as we were still the proud owners of a car that had 4 wheel drive and handled snowy roads beautifully. We ended up leaving home around 5:30, and after a quick stop for dinner, we headed up north.

THREE AND A HALF HOURS LATER...we finally arrived at our destination dealership a whopping thirty minutes before they closed. We looked at the car, it met our needs perfectly (except there's no CD player--NO CD PLAYER PEOPLE), and so we took it for a test drive. Well sort of. We drove around the dealership parking lot at about 2 miles per hour through almost a half a foot of snow, for about 5 minutes. The car salesman said it was the shortest and slowest test drive he'd ever taken anyone on in his thirty years of selling cars. He also kept referring to the van as being "creature friendly"; I'm not sure I like my kids being called creatures. Anyway.

We ended up getting a very good deal, paying low taxes because we traded in our (weep, weep) 4-Runner, we got a great deal for our trade-in, and I was extremely proud of Eric for handling the whole thing so well, as I would have folded and cried and wrung my hands and been taken advantage of immediately, even WITH the seminar training session on, "How Not to Get Taken Advantage of at a Dealership."

So now we are counting the days until we have to make the (hopefully) one hour drive back to pick up our "mommy-mobile" and turn in our "maybe I'm a mom, maybe I'm not" vehicle that has been so good to us. I'm a little apprehensive about being the minivan mom, or as my sister so kindly called me, a "mini mom." I mean, we don't have many other options; it's terribly practical and will fit our needs perfectly. And I'm sure in time I will be so thankful for it. But at this exact moment I am sad to let go of our 4-Runner, as I have loved, loved, loved driving it the past three years. On the way home from the dealership last week Eric and I were lamenting over giving it up, and about the "bachelor's worst nightmare" (marriage-kids-minivans), and we even went so far as to dream about what kind of car we would buy AFTER we didn't need the minivan anymore...which was fun to dream about. Of course by then we'll be stinkin' rich and won't have to take out a loan from the bank to pay for it, right? Right?

Well, I'll post a picture of our new beauty when she arrives. But that could be awhile...as they're predicting another blizzard tonight. Welcome to winter in Chicago, folks!