first date

I have been dating Shaun for almost 11 years now. It has been a long time since I have had a first date.
The first few days of school are as close as I get ( or want to get). It is like a week of 150 first dates. It is an odd comparison I know, and no bad jokes about "dating" my students please... ( ick and I want to keep my job). Bare with me and I'll try to make the connection.
They stumble in on that first day. We are all shiny and new and wanting to impress. There is an awkward eagerness( even from the teacher). Some of the kids ( just like some first dates) are trying too hard to impress, a few......the ones sleeping are not trying hard enough ( actually I think they might be trying to appear like they are not trying.) Some are too wrapped up in themselves to care what I have to say. Others are just trying to see how far they can get. (use the metaphor here...not literally of course).
For the most part we are on our best behavior. All teachers are really good teachers the first week. We don't sit down or show movies or "wing it" just yet. We haven't fallen behind on grades and our room is clean. Most of the students show up on time, with supplies ( even better than flowers!) and gasp...even their homework. The conversation flows awkwardly. The class is still getting to know each other and only a few are confident enough to join in discussion. We are still pulling teeth. In a few weeks I will not be able to shut them up. We will get comfortable. Our guards will go down. The need to impress has worn off. We will run out of new clothes and new tricks and our honeymoon will be over. Issues and conflict will arise, but so will the real business of learning.
I would kind of like to stay here for a bit. While we are all still on our best behavior. But it doesn's work that way. Just like I can't refuse any 2nd or 3rd or 100th dates with these kids. They are mine for better or worse. At least until May.

ignoring the obvious

Less than one month to go on the baby countdown. ( let me preface this rant with the fact that I am super grateful for this gift and thankful for a baby.....just not a fan of the belly or the attention that it brings).
Now that school has started though I kind of want to draw less attention to it.
I mean, random people rub my belly. Kids I don't know walk by and point it out. And everyone wants to know how I "feel". I say fine or good....which is no where near the honest truth......but I don't think the secretary really wants to hear about my hemroids ( nor, probably did anyone reading this). People stop and tell me how "cute" I look .....but when they say cute they don't mean that my hair or outfit looks great -- but that my belly button is sticking out.
Some of my kids look on in fear.......not because I am lighting the desk on fire but because they think I might drop this baby any second. Right there on the lab room floor. And sometimes I feel like I might. I better not, childbirth was not covered in the safety video.
I am thankful to only be on the second floor. I still try to not sit down ( like any good teacher in the first few weeks). The bathroom ( well the staff one) is so far away that I try to ignore the fact that I have to pee every hour and just pray I don't sneeze. When I drop something, I actually bend over and pick it up. I usually insist on it......even though this is excrutiating. Today, I helped unload books. Oddly, no one even tried to stop me. I even managed to be talked into dancing in a pep rally. First of all I don't dance in public period ( well not without liquid encouragement), much less 9 months pregnant. Apparently I have one week to learn how to "walk it out"... I think it might be more like "waddle it out". I run into desks and tables and even kids because I don't quite realize how big I am. I swear I even caught myslef sucking in once this week.
I am a bit puzzled by my behavior. Like pretending and acting like I am all full of energy and fine makes me tough or better or more of a woman....than the other whiny pregnant women in my building. When I get home I don't care about tough. I turn on cartoons for Owen, get him whatever un-nutricous snack he asks for. Make something really easy for dinner ( thank you costco)....and put my swollen feet up and usually talk Shaun into rubbing them. I like to be in bed by 9:30 so I can wake up at 5:30 and pretend all over again.
Maybe part of this act is to convince myself. Complaining and indulging will not make the time pass faster. It won't make me teach any better.....although it might get me a little more sleep and less back pain. Next time someone ( besides Shaun) offers to pick up or carry something for me, I will let them. I will sit down, even for just a little while in every class. I will pee between classes.....even if it makes me late. I will try not to flinch when someone tells me how cute I look, or starts rubbing, or uses words like "prego" or "preggers" or asks me if I am about to pop. I will still tell half truths when they ask how I feel......and I just might even stop concentrating so hard on not waddling as I walk down the hall.

27 pounds

27 pounds has been on my mind lately. A welcome heaviness.
No that is not the amount of weight I have gained in this pregnancy ( at least not yet).
It is the weight of my blonde three year old little boy. This is on the small end for his age ( as in we are still under the 10% percentile), but it is starting to feel like a lot.
My c-section is scheduled for almost exactly one month away ( Sept. 25). Owen is starting to get harder and harder to pick up and hold. Not that he usually wants me to or anything. He tries to be quite the independant one, which is usually good. But there is occasional required lifting.
Like when he falls asleep in the car after swimming and I hope and pray I can get him inside to actually take a nap.
Like when I lift him on the counter so he can help me cook dinner.
Like when I lift him into the shopping cart at the store.
Like when he is hurt or scared and I want to hold him.
Like when I set him on the toilet in the morning because he is too tired to stand up and pee.
Like when I sneak in his room in the morning and lift him out of his bed ( or tent) to bring him into mine so I can sneak in some snuggling before heading off to school.

My belly is sticking out enough that people try to not let me lift or carry things. Light things like a stack of papers or grocery bags. So far, my mom has been the only one telling me not to carry O so much. I of course, have not asked my doctor if there should be any limitations here. I know the wise thing to do would be to stop or severely limit picking him up now. Partly for my own back, and partly for Owen to get used to it. I have never really worked that way. That would be like eating healthy right before going on a diet to try and "ease into it". No thanks. I'd rather soak in all 27 of those pounds while I still can.

After a c-section you are not supposed to carry anything heavier than your child ( as in the one just born) for 4-6 weeks. I can't imagine an entire month without the weight of those 27 pounds in my arms. My arms will be full with something pink and perfect and smelling of dreft. But they will be about 20 pounds too light. I will miss that heaviness and possibly even the ache in my lower back.

hot and sweaty

This summer has been hot, with only smoe minor releif ( thank you tropical storms) in the last few weeks. Playground equipment is too hot to touch. Most of our time has been speant indoors or at the pool. Normally I like hot. I have a pretty high tolerence for it. I am usually cold. I am the girl that keeps a hoodie in her car for restraunts, movies and other public places that think below 80 is an acceptable room temperature. If I am hanging out at your house, and you happen to have a throw blanket on a chair or the back of your couch......I will probably cover up with it. I have all the AC vents in the car pointed away from me ( or closed). I sleep with multiple covers even in the summer.
This summer has been a bit of an exception. Maybe it is the extra baggage I am carrying around. When I was pregnant with O, I just felt normal ( as opposed to my usual cold). That was before very pregnant meets Texas July and August heat. I wake up sweaty. I sweat in the shower. One night I even took kitchen shears to my pajama bottoms and turned them into shorts. I had to seriously resist the tempation to do that to every full pant item I owned with a stretchy waist band.
If you think this blog is just a whiny pregnancy symptom rant. You are wrong.

See, last night.....our AC went out. No one can come out until atleast Monday.

I thought I could manage. The highs are only hitting mid-90s. This is nothing compared to 3 weeks ago. I thought about staying with friends or springing for a hotel but thought I'd rather be sweaty and in my own home than cool and somewhere else without my stuff.
24 hours later however, I am pretty sure I could ring out my clothes. I have escaped the heat by hanging out outside, at a neighbors, at school and borrowed 5 fans. Currently all 5 are running and I can't hear a thing. Owen has explored rotational motion by dropping things into the fan. The oscillating kind really amazes him. I have had to say the phrase "keep your hand out of the fan" and "Owen, stop playing with the outlets" more times than I would like today.

Lets add Shaun is sick, O got his staples out last night and had the cranky headache to go with it all night, school starts Monday, and we still owe a bit on our last major home disaster (the plumbing issue).

Shaun has been trying to fix it all day. But his temper is escalating with the temperature in our house.

I can't help but wonder about the timing. Everything seems to hit at once. I was just starting to relax about money and the baby and now I am wondering where the 4 grand for a new unit will come from ( unless Shaun manages to fix it).

I call a friend to ask her what AC service she used last and her life unfolds worse than mine. Major problems seem to be piling up on her end ( ones that make a little hot and sweaty and a few grand look like nothing).
On my way home from getting a snowcone, I see the homeless fellow I bought water for last week sleeping outside an abandoned restraunt in the heat of the afternoon. I at least have a roof right?

So I am pondering 2 things here:
1. a little perspective can go a long way.
2. (the lengthier one). I wonder something I already know the answer to. Why does God do this. I swear there is some verse about God never giving you more than you can handle.......but it sure seems like he likes to pile it on all at once. To get really close to what we can't handle. The answer I already know, and don't like to be reminded of so concretely is our need for utter dependance on him. Not dependance on the value in my savings account, or my husband's ability to fix it, or a nice comfortably cool home. But on him, and whatever he decides to throw my way.

copier ettiquite when there is a long line the Friday afternoon before school starts

1. Make only what you need for that day ( or in this case for Monday). Do not make copies for 2 days from now or 2 weeks from now or 2 months from now.
2. Have your stuff together. This is not the time to cut and paste with your scissors. White things out or copy multiple single pages from a workbook.
3. It better be useful, like your syllabus. Not 175 cartoons or color pages or recipes that you just happen to want to try.
4. Packets of more than 5 pages will have to be made later. Like in the middle of the night or something.
5. Sure you can sneak out of line to pee, or buy a soda from the machine. NOT go to Starbucks and come back adn expect your place to still be there.
6. Be kind to the copier. Use it gently, make sure the paper is straight ( and loaded). No stray staples or taped up originals. Nothing that can potentially jam the machine is allowed. If it breaks on your set, be prepared to run. Fast.
7. Do not under any circumstances walk away from the machine while it is making your copies.
8. Do not walk into the copy room, see at least a dozen people waiting and ask if you can sneak in that you only have a few. Wait at least 2 weeks into school to start asking for cuts.
9. Usually, proper copier ettiquite says copy for 10 minutes, then get back in line. First day of school changes those rules a bit. Mabye 20 minutes. One hour is not acceptable and not the way to make friends at a new school.
10. Be ready for quick changeouts. If it finishes a set. Run do not walk to put your next set down. Also not a good idea to ask the person who is waiting on you to finish your billion copies to do it for you because you don't want to get up.
11. Now would be a really really good time to go green. Save trees and a few hours of your time and decide maybe not everyone needs their own personal copy of that anyways.

peer pressure

When people talk about highschool and/or teenagers they often mention peer pressure. Like this is something we grow out of. Like we hit college and suddenly people can no longer talk us into things or influence our decisions. We are grown ups and can make good rational decisions for ourselves. Right.
Not so much.
I like to think that I am pretty confident in who I am and can think for myself.
And then school starts (at least for the teachers).
It is like I am back in high school rather than teaching it.
No one is trying to talk me into smoking anything, spiking the punch,or to make out with them in the backseat. (well not yet at least).
But........
I find myself complaining, making jokes and sighing along with the rest of my crowd.

Go to an elementary school the week before school starts and you will find teachers about to explode with excitement and positive warm goodness. Go to a high school and you will find a bunch of whiners.
Most school districts start the staff year with a district wide convocation....translation....grown up pep rally. The elementary and middle school teachers are all wearing matching sparkly shirts. They have cheers, occasional props and are willing to do any song or dance that the presentor asks of them. The high school teachers often show up late ( and most of us consider skipping it all together), try to sit in the back and stand there stiffly when asked to participate. God forbid you ask us to dance. More often than not the presentors are fabulous and try to empower and encourage us. The elementary teachers leave glowing. The high school teachers look at their watch and wish they were working in their rooms.
I tend to be a pretty positive girl. I like my job. I don't like to create problems. I like to pretend that things will work out like they are supposed to and then deal with the problem once it occurs. I do occasionally like to vent, but usually my glass is half full. My natural tendency is to think that our new software will be better and easier, not automatically assume it will be a pain in the ass. Now, I don't like to sing or dance like those crazy elementary folk. I don't own apple jewelry or a broom skirt. I'm no cheer leader. I am not full of pep. But I am not the girl I have been all week. This girl acts like she doesn't want to be here even when she does. This girl gets there just in time and sits in the back. This girl sends texts messages rather than pay attention. This girls joins in with the whining. If you are positive or excited people look at you like a leper.
Now in defense of all the negative....there is nothing like 3-4 full days of inservice to suck the life and energy out of you.

What is a little bit funny is that all these whining negative teachers will have on a whole new game face on Monday morning. They will still bitch and moan at lunch but most will get there early and honestly be excited whether they want to admit it or not.

Staples

I love love love office supplies. Usually back to school means trips to Office Max, Office Depot, WalMart, Target and of course Staples. I buy good pens, pretty colors of dry erase markers and all things to get me pumped up for a new school year.
This year, I have managed to avoid the school supplies.....so far. I am only going back for a month or so at first anyways.

Last night, however, I bought 2 very expensive staples. They didn't come from one of my favorite office supply stores.....but instead the ER.

O had a run in with a chest and lost. We were up at a sunday school party and I had just left him playing upstairs with a few other kids. I told Shaun to go check on him in about 5 minutes.....
30 seconds later we here a big crash from upstairs followed by some screams and crying that I am sure are coming from my kid. I take off running upstairs to kiss whatever boo-boo he has.
I pick him up out of a slightly scared teenage girl's arms and start consoling him when her face wrinkles and she says there is blood. Coming from his head. O's hair is almost white at this point of the summer and there is suddenly bright red streaks near the back. I don't see a big gaping wound anywhere......and truth be told he has had bloody lips that bled more than this so I don't totally freak out. I hand him off to Shaun. ( I don't do well w/ blood) and head into the kitchen for ice and paper towels.
Shaun moves him outside and inspects his wound and says we probably need stitch or two. We load him up in the car, which causes a new fit ( he did not want to leave the party) and head for Care Now or the ER.
O has calmed down and mostly stopped bleeding so we slightly reconsider the need for a trip.....but figure it is best to get him checked out.....or at least see how crowded the ER is.
Ther ER isn't too bad, so we decide to wait. I am a little out of sorts and write the wrong name down on the forms.
They triage us within 15 or so minutes. I half expect the nurse to tell us to go home......and ask her this flat out. She looks at his wound, and says no that they way it is split will require a few staples. STAPLES...not stitches or super glue? The nurse assures me that they use a topical anesthetic and he won't feel a thing. I then ask her what kind of anesthetic they will be giving me!
We know our way around ER waiting rooms...mainly that they are lengthy stays... so I decide to go and pick up the things we left at the party (like O's shoes and our dinner) and swing by Sonic to get drinks and a grilled cheese for O. Besides the ER makes me nervous and O is playing happily making paper airplanes out of all the forms I was supposed to fill out.
I get back to the ER in time to wait another 30 minutes.........before being called back. We wait in our little room and watch the Olympics for a good hour before anyone comes to see us. I joke that they are just waiting for Phelps to race and that the dr. will come around after that. I was kidding......but 5 minutes after the race the dr. (or actually a PA) shows her face. It is well after 10:30 and I am exhausted even if Owen is still wired. She says he should get a staple or 2 and that she can do it fast. She can numb it w/ a shot first ( which will hurt and piss him off) or just do it quick (same pain factor as the numbing shot but less time).
Shaun holds him down and I hold his hand but I swear the first staple sounded like it went straight into his skull. He screamed. I cringed and she wasn't quite fast enough w/ staple number 2. Lots more screaming.......until she returned with a popsicle.
We passed on the catscan ( no way O was sitting still for that and I didn't want to sedate him).....waited on our paperwork....finished the icecream and were finally released.

Owen, atleast, will be heading back to school tomorrow with a few new supplies. Even if they are in his skull rather than his cute blue lego backback.

the back stories

I am almost olympic-ed out. That being said, I have to force myself to go to bed every night.....usually well past my usual hour and the first thing I do in the morning is check the medal standings.
Owen watching the olympics is my favorite part. While watching archery, he stood on the bed and pulled back his pretend bow and arrow every time someone on TV did. During swimming, he plopped down on the floor and swam madly on the wood. Diving was a bit scary as he poised himself perfectly on top of a table and "dove" (feet first thankfully) into the chair and crumpled like he had hit water. Last night when track started he just took lap after lap around the living room.
My second favorite part of the olympics are all the personal back stories. You know where they are killing time between heats or races and focus on one athlete. They give you their history, tell you about their hometown or struggles that they have overcome. Suddenly, I find myself pulling for this athlete ( who I had never heard of 5 minutes before) in their event. Even when they aren't American. Something about knowing their story makes you want to root for them. They are no longer just another athlete in the pack, but now you are connected.
I wonder what would happen if we took the time to learn the "stories" about the people around us everyday? Not just your friends. You know their stories....but that elusive neighbor who never mows the lawn or that annoying co-worker? It is hard to not at least be a little more understanding when you know someone's story. Who knows....you might even start pulling for them.

head gear


One of my friend's little girls needs a helmet. Ok, that isn't the technical term. It is a DOC band or cranal technology or whatever.....but it is basically a helmet. It helps to reshape a skull that is no where near round. Both of our kids came out this way, and was probably due to some muscle tightness and positioning in the womb. Most kids heads get a little bent out of shape in the birth canal ( O never made it that far) or slightly flat on back before they can sit up. But turns out your skull is pretty flexible and usually rounds itself out. What can I say, my kid even came out hard-headed.

Owen wore one for four months. Four long months of doctors visits in North Dallas, physical therapy, stinky sweaty helmet head, stares, stupid questions, unwanted sympathy and a little boy who barely noticed after a few days.

Looking back....I almost forgot. It was about less than 2 years ago but feels like eons. Owen's head is mostly round again. People only stop us in the store to tell me how cute he is, not to ask about his headgear.

When I look back at pictures......I even almost think it was cute. Now.

It is funny this huge event seems like nothing, seems like something a look back to almost fondly. almost but not quite.

The whole time I do remember struggling with the temporary-ness of it. Every one wants a healthy normal kid. Sometimes I even wonder if it is ok to pray for this. Like praying for this baby that I am carrying is healthy and "normal".......somehow makes less of a kid who isn't. Like I will love her less if she has some kind of problem. A big serious one or something minor like a crooked skull.
When learning about Owen's initial treatments ....I remember sitting at the computer crying....and then feeling guilty about this. This was temporary and cosmetic ( mostly) and would pass. Other people I know have kids ( or their own ailments) with conditions that do not pass. It is more than a 4 month battle. Or a few nights in the hospital ( O's asthma).

Now, that I am looking back and rehashing all this for my friend.....I really want to remember one thing. How quickly it is we forget. How quickly things pass. How sometimes re-shaping heads ( or grown up hearts) hurts or is inconvient or causes a few stares......but that one day I will look back and it wasn't so bad after all.

the bag lady

confession, I am not very green. I am not even yellow. I want to be. I want to shop at whole foods, recycle and ride my bike to work. Whole foods is too expensive, my town doesn't have a recylcing program, and my bike has had a flat tire for at least the last 2 years. I realize all of these excuses can be amended with only a little bit of effort on my part. I admire my green friends who have composts containers in their kitchen, belong to a local co-op and braved the icky icky world of cloth diapers. I, on the other hand often use paper plates when we have company because I dispise doing dishes so much. I recognize that I am wasteful in most areas of my life....natural resources included. I do occasionally do my part by skipping a shower or wearing dirty clothes.
I do have a pet peeve though and it is shopping bags.
Today I was with my mom and she bought 2 bottles of nailpolish and they put it in this huge giant shopping back. When I rent a movie at Blockbuster ( I know ... join Netflix with the rest of the world) they try to put my movie in a big plastic bag. The other day at the store I bought one small box of pudding and they placed it in a normal size plastic grocery bag. Repeat with fish food at Petco, and pillows at Marshalls. In all of these situations I take my item (or items) out and tell them I don't need a bag. Sometimes they look at me puzzled. Once I saw a clerk actually throw the bag I didn't use away. Like it must have been broken or something.
If you really want to throw off your grocery store cashier, try re-arranging your groceries. You know, putting more than 2 items in each bag. Yes, I still want my meat seperate....but most other things can touch.
Barnes and Nobles wins, they only try to put my book(s) in a bag about half the time.
Last Spring I went to visit a friend in San Francisco. Almost every where I went they actually asked me if I even wanted a bag, to which I happily said no. They tucked my recipet in ( or handed it to me) and I went on my merry way thinking maybe I could fit in with these hip Californians after all.
Going bagless is a win-win for everyone. It is easier to carry 1-2 small items in hand or shove it into my purse rather than a big bulky bag. Chances are this bag is just going to end up in my car floorboard anyways. Stores save money, and mother Earth is a little bit happier.
I try to go bagless as much as possible. I am hoping this will cancel out my love for paper towels, water bottles, cleaning wipes, and disposable diapers.

morning person

1:12 am pee
2:47 am awake, might as well pee agaian.
4:01 am wide awake and not alone. some hard jabs to my ribs and I realize I won't be going back to sleep anytime soon.
4:15 am O cries for mommy from his room. Hop up ( well, more like a throw all my momentum to one side and roll out of bed). O wants in our bed. I don't feel like fighting it. Make him pee first. I of course pee again. And both of us crawl into bed. A queen size is not big enough for me, Shaun, O and the dog ( and occasionally the cat). Reconsider a king size bed.
5:00 am my watch beeps like it does at every o'clock. damn this means I have been awake for over an hour.
sometime around 5:30 am i manage to go back to sleep.
6:30 am the alarm goes off. elbow shaun to deal with it. pee again.
6:39 am alarm goes off again. fine by me, i never went back to sleep -- but I don't want owen (who is now occupying more space than me and shaun combined) to wake up just yet. the good cartoons don't come on until at least 7 am.
6:45 am Shaun has finally made it into the shower. I give up and get up. pour myself a bowl of cereal and sit down on the couch. check email such without any distractions.
6:57 - 7:35 am watch US men's olympic soccer game w/ shaun ( this may be the most quality time we have had together all week) on Tivo.
7:36-7:39 am somewhere in there I managed to put on a bra, brush my teeth, swipe on some deodarant, pull hair up in a ponytail and find flip flops.
7:40 am get O's breakfast and shoes, while Shaun loads our still semi sleeping child into the car ( still in his favorite spiderman pjs)...cussing that we should have picked up the car last night.
7:41-8:02 am drive to carmax to pick up car. fight over radio station ( he wants the ticket, i want kid kraddick. he wins).
8:10-8:30 am drive home ( this time with kid kraddick) and resist all temptation to stop for coffee or a breakfast taco.
8:31 am back home. exhausted. is it too early for a nap??

regularly scheduled maintenance

I took my car in today for it's "regulary scheduled maintenance”. 30,000 miles. 347$ later I have a car with new fluids, sparkplugs, rotated tires and probably some other things. Paying that much money for something that was working just fine was painful, but I suggested it. We want to keep this car running in good condition as long as possible and I understand that it will take some time and money for upkeep.

Plenty of things around the house get their regularly scheduled maintenance. Owen never misses a doctor’s appointment. Heck even the pets usually get their shots on time.

I on the other hand am lacking on the maintenance end. Superficially, I haven’t had a haircut since February. I haven’t had a pedicure since at least last summer. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in what feels like years. Physically, I am about 6 months overdue on my dental appointments. I am down to my last pair of contacts, and have avoided calling for more because I am afraid they will make me come in. I don’t think I have ever gone to the dr. healthy. Spiritually, I am long overdue for a checkup. Sure I read a lot of books, pray throughout the day and download my thoughts in lots of blogs, but I know that I am lacking. On the outside I seem to be “running” just fine, but I think my tires are wearing a little thin.
Most of us take care of our kids, our cars, and even our teeth ( I said most of us)…….but not so much on ourselves. We are lacking in at least one of those three areas, if not all three. We wait around for something to break, and then assess the damage. I wish I came with one of those mileage stickers that tell you when to get an oil change. Sure I ignore it for the first 1000 miles or two, but eventually I take care of it………which is more than I can say for myself.

baker's dozen

I have never been much of a baker. You have to follow the rules when you bake. Usually when I cook, I see a recipe as more of a suggestion. I never follow it exactly. I often don't even refer to it as I cook. I read it as kind of background knowledge. If I don't like something, I don't add it. Sometimes I add extra ingrediants or make unorthadox swaps. More often than not it turns out fine. Sometimes even better. Usually the only problems that arise are when I try to repeat it or someone asks me for the recipe.

Baking is different. There isn't much room to venture off the beaten path. There are also all kinds of extra rules to follow......ones that aren't even in the recipe.
Preheating the oven is actually expected ( I never do this, I don't wait for water to boil either). There is all kinds of lingo I'm not sure about. It isn't a fast frenzied a little bit of this, a little bit of that kind of affair. Details and ingredients are important.

Lately I have been craving sweets. Lots and lots of sweets. The lady at the donut shop has my order memorized and asks about my son when he isn't there. I am starting to understand her accent and consider this a sign to make less frequent trips to the donut shop. So I have done a little baking. Previously my "baking" consists of things out of a tube or come presliced... but I have been branching out a little with fair success.

I wish I had a normal pregnancy symptom like nesting....but I think there is more to this baking thing. I think God is trying to get me to slow down a little, learn to follow directions and promises me that the rewards are sweet.