weaned.

I have been pregnant and/or nursing since July of 2009.

For the last decade (give or take a few early post-partum months after each of my five babies), I've been pregnant, nursing or trying to get pregnant.

As of March 21st, I am none of the above.

And I'll stay that way.
Weird.

All it took was dropping one feeding. After his first birthday 2 weeks ago, I dropped his mid-morning feeding. One week later, J dropped the rest; for 36 hours. Then he reconsidered. So he nursed one last time. That lasted another 24 hours. So he nursed one last time (again).

That time he meant it.

And...weaned.

Baby J, consider yourself a big boy. *sigh* 

#19 wean baby J

#5 paint stripes somewhere in the house

Don't pretend like you don't love my non-staged, nor fixed and pretty post-painting photos ;)

Yeah, that's how real we keep it around here. It was now or never for taking a picture...I swear we have toilet paper in there now. And a place to sit and do your business. Why, yes, I did just go there.

I mean, it IS a bathroom after all. And now it's a noticeably more beautiful one.

Even if I chose the most insane weekend to complete the project (we might have been celebrating our 10th wedding anniversary, hosting a 5th birthday party AND battling strep throat and stomach viruses in our house at the same time).

I really wanted cream and white stripes, but the difference just wasn't enough to satisfy my rather overstated design tastes, so I borrowed from the beige landing paint supply and whipped up these chocolate and vanilla inspired stripes.

I love it.

Like for real.

I might be making excuses to go to the bathroom.

Wait, that would be weird...

#5 paint stripes somewhere in the house--all kinds of finished!

#2-write our 'love story'

Just a note, this post, this 30x30 to-do, was inspired by my own parents' love story. For my 18th birthday, I asked my mother for one gift. I wanted her to write down hers and my  father's love story. When she wrote it down (by hand no less), she wrote it in a journal, inviting me to write my own story in it one day for my future daughters. 

I was 18.

He was not. 

More like over-thirty.

Okay, fine, he was 32.

And I was interviewing, on the suggestion of my sister-in-law, with an agency that provided services for special needs children and adults. 

It was June of 2001 and hot. I was wearing a purple shirt, black pants and driving my sister's Toyota Four-Runner (David said he thought I was a spoiled rich girl when I drove up in that...as opposed to my own trusty little green Geo-metro).

I was nervous.

Truth be told, I was nervous that this single-dad to three I was meeting with was going to be hot. I was relieved when he wasn't.

haha.

My boss, Mary, met me at his apartment to meet with the two kids (Adriana, age 3 and Jacob, age 17 months) I'd be working with. 

Did I mention I was nervous?

The kids were adorable. Especially that little brown-eyed boy. I could tell even then the little girl was trouble.

About 15 minutes into the interview and the dad walks out, leaving me with two very needy little kids (he confessed later that this was a test).

I rocked it.

My job was to work Monday-Thursday from 6-8pm with Adriana and Jacob on their goals.

David asked me to babysit one night; he was going out to celebrate his divorce being final.

He called the apartment totally wasted (in the eleven years since, I've only seen him like that one other time). I was un-amused.

Perhaps I should mention that David is somewhat difficult to understand (read: significant speech impediment); well add alcohol to that and I was like, "What?"

Anyway.

The next month, I went to the beach with my girl friends. I got my first and only speeding ticket on that trip. A few weeks later, I went back to the beach and David, trying to be cute, wrote me a note that read, "Watch your speed." Or something like that.

I kept it on my dash.

That was probably my first clue.

You see, I was dating my on-again, off-again high school boyfriend  at the time.

By August, I knew something was different in my interactions with David in the evenings. Enough of that something was enough to convince me that I called it quits with my boyfriend.

A few days later, my friend and I were in a minor car accident.

I went to work that night, but my back was killing me.

And, well, I'm a sucker for a good massage.

David offered.

I accepted.

*

A few nights later, I met David's mom and step-dad; only David didn't tell them we were dating. Yeah, that was every shade of awkward. But his mom loved me.

My mom loved him.

Everyone else? Not so much convinced of our fast and non-traditional coupling. It was hard. Mostly because I couldn't quite explain it. I just knew. Yep, in that cliched, tried and trued tradition of yesteryear, I just knew David was right for me. I could feel it.

And I've never been one to hesitate when I know something is right.

By November, we were "casually engaged." I say casually because when he asked me it was so nonchalant that I thought perhaps he wasn't serious. I called him the next day from my mother's kitchen to make sure!

We married March 2nd, 2002 in a very small ceremony. It was beautiful and perfect.

I loved him then.

I loved him in that 19 year old girl kind of way.

But I'm in love with him now.

In love with him in that we've persevered and laughed our way through tragedy after tragedy and now celebrate our marriage as God-inspired.

In retrospect, I know I loved him because of the proof. I could see he was (and IS) an incredible father. Like, one-of-a-kind. That kind of man is few and far between and I KNEW that any man that can be that good of a father has to be one heck of a man.

Turns out I was right.

Less than one month from now, we'll celebrate our 10th wedding anniversary. If I could go back to the 19-year-old me on her wedding day I'd tell her it's all good. David and I have endured tragedy like no other, but    we also share a love so genuine I cannot fathom for a second any other man that could end this story with me.

I love you David.

January 2012

#15 attempt to appreciate A (as in singular) football game

Technically.

And I do mean, technically, I did this one.

I attempted.

Half-heartedly.

More than once even.

But, alas, and all those other words...

This nearly-thirty-year-old just doesn't do football.

I did learn a few things along the way.

For example, I now know that a down is the same thing as saying a try. As in, 2nd down (out of 4, thank you very much) is the second attempt at securing 10 yards. That brings me to my next piece of pigskin-playing knowledge. I know that the goal is to score 10 yards during your 4 given downs.

That's about it. The teams take turns doing something simple, but calling it something fancy.

And I still don't understand all the positions.

Or how you find the ball on the field. I mean, that thing is tiny and there are so many big men all around it. Why bother? It's like trying to play Where's Waldo but he forgot to wear his stripes.

*sigh*

I even tried to go to a Panthers game when we scored free tickets on Christmas Eve...but the football hater, I mean, good mother in me, won out and I let Mr. 30x30 take three kids with him instead.

I was not here. But people who share my DNA were. Totally counts.

So...I did say attempt to appreciate right?

Do I get credit?

I say yes.

This is the way we paint the house, paint the house,

paint the house.

Or, in our case, landing.

#22 paint upstairs landing


Painted.


Six years worth of little girl scribbles with pencils, markers, crayons, and yes, even sharpies, are all covered.


I'm sure a certain little boy will add his own scribbles one day. 


But for now, bliss.

the before

the after

It's all beige and beautiful like. 

As for me, I'm tired.

and covered in paint,

and my knees hurt.

and I'm only 29.

for now.

#8 complete reading through the Bible

Now that's a read people.


In case you're interested, the husband and I, followed the reading plan found here.


I'm not going to lie. There were some books we found more difficult to navigate then others (Numbers anyone?) and I thought I loved Psalms...until I read them consecutively. What I'm saying here is, don't get discouraged. Take a break and catch up if you need to (I did!), but this book will change your life (okay, so the author has a lot to do with that part...). 


And reading it with your spouse? Fabulousness.


#8, totally done.

#16- check

#16 serve in a ministry opportunity outside my comfort zone

done-done-done-done-done!

Now that we're clear on that, here's a re-cap.

August 2011- I prayed for God to show me how to meet this need.

September 2011- Women's ministry leader approaches me about trying out writing dialog for our annual women's Christmas event.

And then...God just rocked my world (He's got a real knack for that sort of thing).

Let me just go all bullet-style on you here for a minute to convey how this all went down:

• wrote dialog based on someone else's vision
•  participated in a team effort re-vision
• trusted someone else to add to the script when life events (hello bi-polar teenage daughter) kept me from giving 100% to the project
• volunteered to decorate a table (Sooooo outside my element it's not even funny) for the event
• invited my closest friends (and subsequently hurt feelings left and right...not part of the plan, but certainly part of the outside my comfort zone)
• sat up front so that I couldn't read any one's response during the performance (and thought I might die for fear everyone hated the play)
• walked on stage to acknowledge my role in the event

THAT is how you serve outside your comfort zone my friends (okay, so it's how *I* served outside my comfort zone, whatever). And this is what it looks like:

The table...a group effort (china from my sister, glasses from a friend, candles from another friend, shopping trips with another friend, and well, you get the idea).

table crafts inspired by Better Homes and Gardens... don't laugh

Look, friends and prayer warriors united!

Play in action...I wrote those lines! Holy crap!

and what's a performance without a little flare of the dramatic...which is what happened when my sister noticed a napkin (okay, so it was a bandanna, you caught me) on fire, literally.

Funniest thing ever. My sister flapping around a flaming napkin.

Post-fire relief...that's me in the middle! 

The play went live on Tuesday, with a repeat performance on Thursday and three more shows this weekend!!

I am humbled beyond measure to see how God can take my small prayer and use it for His glory. The words I wrote were just words, nothing fancy, nothing fantastic. But when you add those words to God's plan of a gifted producer and director, talented, willing actors...you get something inspirational and I am forever changed by my role in this experience.

Thank you to everyone who prayed me through this.

#16 may be crossed from my list, but my heart will continue to be obedient to God's calling to serve outside my comfort zone.

May the praise, honor and glory be His!