The Case of the Eaten Sandwich

Last night I fixed a Parmesan Chicken Ring for dinner-- my take-off on Pampered Chef's Taco Ring; it was pretty good, really. I chopped up left-over chicken from the night before, mixed it with a jar of pizza sauce and grated parmesan cheese, and used it for filling in the crescent roll ring.

Kennedy and I ate dinner while David and Conner were at soccer practice. (I know we should have waited, but practice comes right in the middle of dinner and throws the whole night off.)

When they got home, Conner was incredibly hot and sweaty. I told him to get in the shower and I’d fix him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. (He didn’t like what we had for dinner.)

I fixed his sandwich, left it on the counter, and sat down at the computer to answer e-mails.

A few minutes later he came into the kitchen and asked for his sandwich. When I told him where it was he started yelling.

This is what he found on the counter:

After some covert detective work I discovered this:

I know it's blurry--she was fast!

Poor Conner.

"Kennedy, what happened to Conner's sandwich?"

"I ATE IT!"

How Do I Love You?

Conner-

How do I love you? Let me count the ways.






I love to see you give your all on the soccer field.

I love to watch you interact with strangers. You have a gift for starting up conversations with people and putting them at ease.

I love your love of words and puns.

I love to hear you laugh out loud when you read a book.

I loved watching your awe-filled eyes when you saw the Declaration of Independence in Washington, D.C.

I love your self-confidence--how you courageously face life.



I love to hear you read to Kennedy, repeating the same words I once read to you.





I love the way you sing Bon Jovi songs with me in the car.

I love the way you love to make paper airplanes and race them around the room.

I love watching you sing karaoke--your raspy, rock star voice makes me smile.





I even love that you want to be in the army, just like your Uncle John. (Although, it would break my heart if you joined.)







I love watching you create army vehicles and fighter planes with your Legos.

I loved watching you and Kennedy watch the fireworks on the Fourth of July. It warmed my heart to see Kennedy sitting in your lap, the back of her head resting on your chest, your arms encircling her.





Kennedy-


How do I love you? Let me count the ways.




I love to hear you repeat phrases you've heard me use--"I don't have a clue" and "Well, I don't know what to tell you."

I love the way you combine the words crocodile and alligator into cacagator.

I love the way you say "wet" with a Texas accent making it sound like "waaay-it."




I love to go into your room at night and find you asleep with a book still open in your arms.





I love the way you play with my hair when we snuggle in my bed.

I love to hear you read your books from memory--your three year-old interpretations make me laugh.

I love to hear you count..."one, two, tree, four, five, six, eleben, twelve, elebenteen...." I know I should teach you the "correct" way, but your way makes me smile.

I even love your stubbornness. Although it is difficult to deal with now when you are three, that stubbornness will serve you well as an adult when you know what is right and don't back from a fight.

I love to watch you twirl around the room in your frilly, pink, dress-up clothes.











I love your crazy hair in the morning.

I love the way you yell, "Mommy's home!" when I walk in the door.

I love to hear you yell "slug bug!" from the back seat. I love that you and Conner have both joined in our family game that started when your Daddy and I were dating.



Conner and Kennedy-




I love being your Mommy.

God's Timing is Perfect...

When I started my blog I knew I wanted to share my surrogacy journey. When I decided to become a surrogate it occurred to me that this was a journey of faith because I truly felt God calling me to do this.

A few weeks ago I felt good about the timing of this pregnancy because I realized that if I had been due in April it might have caused problems with the TAKS test. But a few weeks ago I still believed it would be possible to get pregnant and deliver in May or early June.

Last week I was forced to face the reality that October will be the earliest I'll be able to get pregnant which will put me due in the middle of summer. I don't want to have a baby in the middle of summer. That means I won't be able to take my kids swimming for five or six weeks, and that's our favorite thing to do in the summer. I also think it will be harder to rest and recover with them home with me.

My perfect plan was for me to have the baby sometime during the last six weeks of school--spend three weeks recovering at home while my kids were at school/the sitter's, and then be back on my feet in time for summer or maybe just a few weeks after school let out.

I haven't wanted to write this week because frankly I've been a little bummed, and I really wanted everyone who reads my blog (all three of you) to see what a wonderful experience this is for me and how everything works out perfectly when you trust God.

Only, last night I realized that that's not really my faith journey. I need to record the real journey--all of it--so that I'll be able to look back on it and see all that God has done in my life. If the Israelites had only recorded the times they were feeling good about what was happening in their lives, Exodus wouldn't be much of a book.

So, here's my new mantra:

God's timing is perfect...God's timing is perfect...God's timing is perfect...God's timing is perfect...God's timing is perfect...God's timing is perfect...God's timing is perfect...

It rolls right off my tongue. It's easy to believe in theory when I'm not waiting on something over which I have no control or when the timing is working out the way I had planned.

Before I got pregnant with Conner I prayed God would let me get pregnant in July so I'd have four months at home with my newborn. Not only did I get pregnant in July, he was due six weeks to the day before school let out for the summer. It was easy to believe God's timing was perfect then.

I prayed the same prayer about Kennedy, (except that time I added "and could you please let me have a daughter?") and she was born four weeks before the end of school allowing me spend the summer at home enjoying my new baby girl. It was really easy to believe that God's timing is perfect then as well.

It's almost like in the past I've placed orders, and God has come through giving me exactly what I prayed for. So I'm going to be honest when I say that I'm struggling a little bit right now to believe that God's timing is perfect because my perfect time line has come and gone.

This morning I came across this verse I had written in my journal:
"Rest in the Lord and wait patiently for Him;.... Do not fret--it only causes harm." Psalm 37:7-8

When I find myself fretting I'll choose to say:

God's timing is perfect...God's timing is perfect...God's timing is perfect...God's timing is perfect...God's timing is perfect...God's timing is perfect...God's timing is perfect...