More thoughts on motherhood

"If you aspire to be a mother, you aspire to a job without pay that is harder than any job you'll be paid for. It's a job with no time off, only time away. [D0] not have children to derive anything from them—not love or joy or fun or a legacy. It is possible that any or all of these may come, but there will be long stretches when little fulfillment is in sight."

"I did not know when we started our family... that each birth would deliver into my arms an immeasurable weight of vulnerability and terror, but I guessed that parenting would bring a profligate, extravagant, others-centered life. As it has. But there has been a kind of death involved, make no mistake. 'Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed,' Jesus taught. 'But if it dies, it produces many seeds.' My ambitious dying life is far from over."

From the article The Case For Kids by Leslie Leland Fields in Christianity Today.

To me, this is the crux of the problem with our modern understanding of motherhood. There seems to be an expectation that one need not give up anything. That children exist to reward us. That we can remain self-focused and self-interested and still be good parents.
I am ashamed to admit that I still struggle to die to self. Through prayer and the mighty acts of God on my heart, I occasionally see glimpses of the seed bearing fruit that nourishes and sustains others. It is SO hard, but even those brief snippets I've seen -- oh my goodness, is it ever GOOD!!

The way a family might be

My friends from "that" side of the religious spectrum will probably have already seen this link at Molly's place, but for those who haven't, here is a great article. I personally, radical crazy fool that I am, think that it's especially important for people on "this" side of the religious spectrum to consider these ideas. No conversion necessary, but read with an open mind, and I guarantee you'll find this article at least pretty provocative.
Reading it and thinking about the way the family is portrayed in our media nowadays reminded me of why I loved Madeline L'Engle growing up. The families of her heroes and heroines were 4-8 children families where siblings respected each other and also made mistakes, argued, and hurt each other. Parents were a team, an imperfect team sometimes, but a team. The table was always a central setting in her stories. Even recognizing that she wrote fiction, I remember wanting all that then. I still want that now.
But, jeez, try to explain this to some of my friends and you'd think I've suggested the possibility of moving to Lebanon. (Actually, that might be more accepted, especially if I went with a peace banner!) The idea of foresaking a brand new minivan and the possiblity of family vacations at Disneyworld and embracing the likelihood of a creaky house, worn furniture and a very used car all of which will serve a happy family of people who love each other more than status or achievement is delusional and most certainly a waste of my extensive and expensive education. That or it's somehow something we are "lucky" to be able to consider because they simply "can't" sacrifice income or comfort.
Hmph.
Well, now I'm just ranting away. Anyway, don't let this deter you. Read the article. Let me know what you think, ok?

Inane but fun quiz

Your French Name is:

Hortense Tremblay

What's Your French Name?

Don't like the first name you get? Play again.

A brief rant

Dear fellow mainline "liberals" -- can we please, please, PLEASE quit implying that those on the "conservative" or "fundamental" side of Christianity are simple-minded, unintelligent, uninformed morons?
And dear evangelical "conservatives" -- can we please, please, PLEASE quit inferring that those on the "liberal" or "progressive" side of Christianity are weak-faithed, untested, unsaved relativists?
Faith is too important, too personal, too essential to keep doing this to each other! Enough already, ok?

Too large a helping of Grace?

I know it's possible to have too much of a good thing. In fact, I think I could be a case study for said principle. But I've been wondering lately about the theology of Grace thanks to marvelous Molly's Grace vs. Law discussion over at her blog. Then brilliant Dawn began dissecting an article about homeschooling, part of which deals with legalism. And I've been reading some other articles and blogs, mostly written by evangelicals/ conservatives which deal with the prevalence of legalism in the evangelical mindset. Through all of these articles, I've realized that (warning: generalization to follow!) tending towards legalism is a problem the mainline church simply doesn't have. In fact, any wrestling with legalism that occurs in our churches is generally from marginalized voices from within who are calling for, well, laws to govern us and our behavior. We manage to squash this dissent, or at least talk louder, by pointing to the love of Jesus and the grace of God and the necessity for Spirit-led living.
But before we pat ourselves on the back and recline in smug self-satisfaction, I think we should examine the possibility that perhaps we have erred on the side of grace. Perhaps too much grace is also not a great thing.
Now I can already hear the roar of my liturgical-dance clad sisters and perhaps, brothers, as they wave their dowel-mounted ribbons and shake their heads in wounded indignation. Too much grace? How could such a thing be possible?
Well, I think however it is possible, we've managed to do it.
Here's how I came to this realization -- Dawn in her blog post mentioned the parable of The Prodigal Son and her past tendency to teach it from the perspective of it being about the wages of sin.
I ashamedly admit that I was shocked! I have never heard that parable taught or preached from that perspective. Literally every time I have heard it, read it, preached it, it has been from the perspective of the father who offers an unconditional and in fact, abundant, pardon. And though, I believe, that is the point of the parable, having skipped over the wages-o-sin aspect of it, I think I have had a much less full understanding of that parable.
Now you may think that I'm the only moron who has ever single-sidedly read this passage of scripture, but I would say in imagined defense of myself that I have studied this parable a lot. I have read it, prayed it, written on it, preached it. I know the offense brought by the son against the father in a historical context. I know the father's right to refuse the son. I know the bones of this parable, but I have to admit, before the last few days, I did not understand the spirit. I had not ever considered the utter failure of this son. I hadn't ever considered the wanton and brazen disregard and disrespect offered by the offending son. I hadn't, in short, ever truly considered the sin.
And, I would guess, there are lots of folks like me in the mainline church. I could be wrong. I am a lot of the time, after all. But my guess is that there are many of us who prefer to skip over sin and get right to grace. We prefer to skip over our fallibility and get to the part about pardon from God. We prefer to skip over our mortality and get to the part about immortality promised by Christ.
But, in doing so, I think we're doing ourselves a big disservice.
Don't get me wrong -- I don't think we need to go full-fledged into wallowing in our sinfulness, especially because our shortcomings can and do become a source of pride. There are plenty of enormous Calvary Fill-in-the-Blank Churches in the world.
No, I don't think God creates us to remain in the pig pen even a short while. But I think we do ourselves a disservice if we don't recognize that that is where we ought to be. We're the ones who have chosen a path other than what God creates us to be. The pigpen is what we deserve.
And here's the crux of the matter -- without realizing and really contemplating what we deserve, we can't fully understand what a gift it is to be elsewhere, namely safe in the arms of our Father.
And that's what Grace is really all about, right? Being safely at Home even though we should still be wandering.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Gramps!!

83 years young and a blessing to us all everyday. We're proud to be your progeny.

(Gramps is the handsome gray-haired gent in the middle!)

When hemmed in...

From The Message:

By entering through faith into what God has always wanted to do for us - set us right with him, make us fit for him - we have it all together with God because of our Master Jesus. And that's not all: We throw open our doors to God and discover at the same moment that he has already thrown open his door to us. We find ourselves standing where we always hoped we might stand - out in the wide open spaces of God's grace and glory, standing tall and shouting our praise. There's more to come: We continue to shout our praise even when we're hemmed in with troubles, because we know how troubles can develop passionate patience in us, and how that patience in turn forges the tempered steel of virtue, keeping us alert for whatever God will do next. In alert expectancy such as this, we're never left feeling shortchanged. Quite the contrary - we can't round up enough containers to hold everything God generously pours into our lives through the Holy Spirit! ~Romans 5:1-5

Selfish worry of other shoes

I am so ashamed to admit it, but I am in a nervous funk lately.
I've been hearing about little ones who were born early and mothers and fathers learning to cope with grief rather than joy.
I feel like I'm holding my breath.
I don't know if it's because we had a close call with Annalivia. When I was 14 weeks pregnant with her, I had a hemorrhagea on the placenta. One moment I was fine. The next I was bleeding. The next sobbing. Three days later it stopped and after three weeks of bedrest, I was cleared for activity. And the rest of the pregnancy was relatively unremarkable except that we took nothing for granted.
I am now 12 weeks pregnant and perhaps it's just that looming mark of 14 weeks or perhaps the sympathy for others, but I am not breathing freely these days.
And I do know it is very selfish in the midst of others' pain to focus on hypotheticals.
Yet still I cower, half-waiting for the shoe to drop.

Joy and pain, sunshine and rain

It is amazing to me that this little creature I nurtured with my body and pushed into this world is able to inspire in me deeper joy than I've ever known and more frustration than I've ever thought possible.
It has become my daily prayer that Annalivia will see Momma responding to the joy more often and more completely than she will ever see me responding to the frustration. And I pray I will seek more and more opportunities to delight in her and allow my failures as a parent to be corrected by my Parent.
Because sometimes parenting is the simplest thing in the world, but, my goodness... sometimes it is awfully darn hard.

Oh, Jimmy Mack, when are you coming back?

My best friend, Jimmy, has been gone this week chaperoning his ecumenical youth group on their annual mission trip.
Despite knowing that he is excited to be driving around in some sort of rented gas-guzzling behemoth, I've missed talking to him about the minutiae of my life. Why don't people seem to understand that their lives should be scheduled around that which is convenient for me?
Anyway, I'll be excited to hear that he's back and available at the end of a Sprint cellular connection. Come back already, Jimmy Mack.

Reading while reclining

As I've spent lots of time reclining, I've turned to my old standards and have been re-reading for the billionth time my collection of Madeleine L'Engle. From Meet The Austins, here's one of my favorite quotes.

God is over all things, under all things;
outside all;
within, but not enclosed;
without, but not excluded;
above, but not raised up;
below, but not depressed;
wholly above, presiding;
wholly without, embracing;
wholly within, filling
~Hildevert de Lavardin, 1125

Recipe: Lenders begone

It seems like all my posts are about food lately and I'm not entirely sure why that is, except that I am so tired that most of the time we are home I spend on the couch unless I'm fixing food. Hence the food posts?
Anyway, today's recipe is for wondrous homemade bagels. I LOVE a bagel in the morning, but the kind one can get at the store has corn syrup in them always and corn syrup is murder on my blood sugar level. The store bought kind usually aren't whole wheat, either, but rather mainly white flour with a little wheat thrown in and they're usually pretty big -- far bigger than an actual serving of grains as defined by the FDA.
Anyway, this homemade version is all whole-wheat and all delicious and one can control the size of them. These were much easier than I thought they'd be and though mine were a tad misshapen, they turned out wonderfully and taste SO good. I've had one this morning with green olive cream cheese. Yummmmmm....

Homemade Whole Wheat Bagels

2 cups warm water
1 packet yeast
2 tablespoons honey
1/4 cup olive oil or coconut oil
6 cups whole wheat flour (I used 1/2 pastry and 1/2 a rough stone-ground flour -- next time I'll use almost all soft flour and maybe some ground flaxseeds for crunch)
1 tablespoon salt

Mix water and yeast and honey and let bubble. Then add oil and salt and begin adding flour until you have a stiff dough. Kneed and incorporate more flour if necessary. (Or dump all of this your bread machine after the yeast has bubbled and let it do the work!)
Set dough in a greased bowl and cover and let rise til double (or let bread machine do it). When doubled, punch down and divide into equal parts depending on what size you want your bagels (I made 18 of this recipe. Form each section of dough into a ball, then create a hole in the center with your fingers. (The hole will puff up and close some during boiling, so keep this in mind when making it the desired size). Place on a very well greased light colored cookie sheet and cover and let rest and rise for about 20 minutes.
Sometime during the resting/rising time, bring to boil in a large pot or dutch oven about 6 inches of water with 2 Tablespoons honey added after the boiling has begun. You want this to be rapidly boiling as this will puff up your bagels. When water is rapidly boiling, gently drop in bagels and cook for a minute or two on each side. They will puff slightly and look a little more bagely! Take them out and drain them on paper towels over newspaper. Then place on cookie sheets that have been regreased.
If you'd like, brush a little olive oil on top and sprinkle with kosher salt, garlic, poppyseeds, dried onion, sesame seeds, pepper -- whatever you like. Bake the bagels in a hot (about 400 degrees) oven for about 20 minutes.

Green Olive Cream Cheese
1 package cream cheese (don't get the lowfat stuff- the additives make it less worthy. Really)
3/4 cup or your desired amount green olives without pimentos (I'm not a fan of pimentos -- I suppose you could leave them in, though!)

Chop up olives to desired size -- I like mine in pretty substantial chunks. Soften cream cheese. Mix up. Use now or store covered for up to a week.

Recipe: Boy oh boy bolognese sauce

I have been craving spaghetti sauce for some reason -- and not the stuff that comes from the jar, nor the stuff that comes from our local pizzerias around here which is delicious, but has been cooked for literally hours in lots of salt and thus is a lot better in cold weather than in warm.
What I've been hungry for is something fresh and summery, not too heavy, but also substantial. Oh, it also needed to be ready in the half-hour before dinner time that it occurs to me that we should eat something in the evening!
So here it is -- incredibly easy and wonderful bolognese sauce. Oh my goodness, is this ever good!
Summer Bolognese Sauce
1 lb sausage or beef (we use sausage)
1 onion chopped
lots o' garlic minced
1 can no-salt organic tomatoes (or use fresh if you have them -- they're not ripe here yet!)
1-2 cups organic broth (I use beef, but veggie or chicken would work, too)
2-3 tablespoons tomato paste
about 1/2 cup good red wine (I use Chianti)
Italian seasonings
any other veggies you'd like to hide i.e. carrots, mushrooms, zucchini, squash, chopped, diced, minced or shredded, depending on how well you want to hide it!

Brown the meat and add the onion and garlic toward the end of the browning time. Drain if you have a lot of grease -- we use lower fat sausage so I don't drain it. Add the broth, tomatoes, tomato paste, and wine, if using. Add the seasonings. Bring to a boil, then turn down and let simmer. Taste the mix and see if it is tomato-y enough. Add more paste, if not.
Allow the mix to simmer until reduced to near-desired consistency. Add any extra veggies (note: you can add the tomatoes now instead of earlier, if you like the taste of semi-fresh tomatoes. I, myself, am not a fan). Allow to finish reducing or heat through and enjoy.
Note: This recipe makes a very meaty sauce. You can stretch it a lot by adding more broth and tomato paste or more veggies.

When it would be particularly helpful to have a Gramps around

The list of things I love about my grandfather is far too long to be posted here. Seriously. Blogger.com would overload and shut down if I began to extol all of my grandfather's virtues. So today, I'll extol just one -- the man will eat, (and appreciate!) anything.
Once when I was in junior high, I decided to make a batch of chocolate chip cookies from scratch -- no recipe, no measuring cups, no guidance from Mom -- this was to be completely totally from scratch. I decided it was possible for me to do this because my mother does this all the time with quite a fair degree of success. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen her make a batch of cookies from a recipe, though I suppose it does happen at Easter, but even then only sort of. She never measures anything, always goes by sight and texture, and sometimes taste, but only before the eggs are added. Consequently, mom never makes the same thing twice, but since she's hardly a person for repetition, this is ok and all of us are learning, some of us more slowly than others, to appreciate it.
ANYWAY, I decided to make these cookies and decided to eyeball the baking soda part of the recipe. So I mixed up my ingredients and when it came time to add the soda, I probably added 2-3 tablespoons to a batch of a dozen and a half cookies.
When they emerged from the oven, they smelled wonderful and looked really quite good, though they were, of course, brown on the bottom. Their appearance was deceptive, to say the least. They were terrible! Baking soda is a lovely background flavor, but should never star in a batch of chocolate chip cookies. Never.
Despite the terror that was these cookies, for some reason I packaged them up and took them to my grandfather. Now, the thing to know about Gramps is that not only does he eat pretty much anything, but he also insists that he likes the burned parts of things ("a little brown," as he says) as well as other things considered inedible by others. I don't know if this has evolved as a coping mechanism (because while my grandmother is now THE BEST cook on the planet, she says it wasn't always that way because she truly HATED to cook when they first married) or if he truly likes the yucky stuff.
These cookies were no exception. My grandfather tried them, proclaimed them quite good and even when I tried to throw them out, insisted on saving them.
The reason I thought about all of this today was because I tried to make cookies from scratch again. These turned out really quite well, but they are a little too soft and fall apart a little too easily. Probably I needed to put more flour in them and although they taste very good, they have whole wheat, whole sugar, oatmeal, walnuts, chocolate and white chocolate chips in them and I know Dennis won't devour them like he would if they were just plain white flour, sugar and chocolate chips.
If Gramps were nearby though, I'd have them taken care of. I'd take some over to his house, present the crumbly parts as possible ice cream topping, and we'd be good to go.
Aside from all the other times it would be nice to spend time with him, this is when it would be particularly helpful to have a Gramps around.

Five years and counting

Yesterday was the fifth anniversary of my ministry at First Christian Church, Rock Falls. When I came here, I thought I'd be here for five years and move on. I had it all planned out in my head how it would work -- how I'd leave here and go to a larger church, earn more money, get more recognition from the poobahs, etc, etc.
Five years, a husband, a daughter and a little nubbin later, I have no idea what's next. God has been good over the last five years despite me. So I am here and trying to do the work to which God is calling me both in the church and in my home. That seems like plenty to hold in my head and heart right now.

Recipe: In case of a bumper crop

Somehow, even though we didn't plant a garden this year, we have a bumper crop of zucchini, thanks to the generosity of my sister, Lil, and some church members. Today I was facing eight large zucchini on my countertop. And when I say large, I mean, slightly larger than the dog next door.
Anyway, here is a recipe for soup using zucchini. I have modified it because the original, while tasting delicious, had a texture that would have been great during the winter, but not so lovely now. However, this version is grand and supposedly freezes like a dream. So if you had a deep freezer, you could make this stuff for cold weather and you'd be golden.

Red Lentil, Zucchini and Couscous Soup
1 onion
1 stalk celery
olive oil for sauteeing
6 c. broth (I used chicken, but veggie would be great and beef is good in the winter)
1 c. red lentils
1 t. salt
1/2 t ground pepper
6 big leaves fresh basil
2 large zucchini, cut into bite-sized pieces
4 large carrots, cut in slightly smaller pieces than zucchini
2/3 c whole wheat couscous
1/2 c grated parmesan (optional)

Dice onion and celery and cook in olive oil til translucent.
Pour in broth and add lentils and seasonings. Allow to boil, then turn down heat and cover, allowing to cook at slow simmer for 15-20 minutes.
Add zucchini and carrots and couscous and continue to simmer for 10 minutes.
You may want to stir in the parmesan or add it to bowls or leave it out altogether.
This soup could also take a whole lot of other seasonings, so experiment and enjoy!

How things could have gone

Yesterday was not a great day for the McStews. However, even as I indulge in complaint, I should note that all of it could have been so much worse. And thus I'm extremely thankful.
On Sunday, while at my neice's birthday party, my tooth began a murderous rampage inside my mouth and I started to get a dull headache. Tylenol did not help tooth nor head and by the time we got home, my head was really sore.
During the night I had dreams that someone was hitting my head from side to side and I woke up with a headache that was pounding with each beat of my heart. It hurt so much I couldn't move without incredible pain. I woke Dennis up and had him take my blood pressure because I was preeclamptic with Annalivia and the pounding with my heartbeat really concerned me. My blood pressure was fine and glucose was fine, so I went back to bed, but the pain was terrible.
On Monday morning, I had an appointment with the oral surgeon about this tooth. The tooth was my back right wisdom tooth and it had a large hole on the side where a filling fell out long ago that was exposing the nerve. The doctor was worried about it breaking off, in which case it was likely that he'd have to cut the gum and since I'm pregnant, Tylenol or perhaps Tylenol with codeine, are the only pain relieving options. The doctor said he'd rather wait to pull it, but thankfully, my beloved OB intervened and said to get the darn thing out since it was probably the instigator of the headache.
So the doctor took out the tooth and as it was coming out, it broke off. I had been praying Psalm 30 "O, Lord, I cried out to you for help and you healed me" all morning. The doctor reached for the knife and then said, "Maybe I can tease it out" and grabbed another tool and the rest of the root of the tooth just popped right out. So -- no cutting. And I came home in less than an hour and laid on the couch while Annalivia played.
On his way home, Dennis got into an accident. It was sort of Dennis' fault since he tried to pass a guy who was turning left on the guy's right. Turned out the guy had the wrong turn signal on and he turned into Dennis instead. The guy didn't have insurance and since our car is driveable and technically Dennis was in the wrong, Dennis didn't get the guy's name either. The Capri is banged up, which the real shame, and Dennis was really ticked off at himself, but all of this leads me to...
HOW THINGS COULD HAVE GONE

• This headache could have been blood pressure related, which would have been REALLY bad this early in the pregnancy.
• The doctor could have decided to leave the tooth.
• The tooth could have broken differently and needed cutting.
• Annalivia could have been having a very different day that wouldn't have allowed for a sleeping mama.
• Dennis or another person could have been really seriously hurt.

Like I said, all in all, I'm thankful. Today is a hundred times better and I'm assuming tomorrow will be practically normal.

The birthday girl

On Sunday, we went to Eureka to celebrate my neice Cleya's 3rd birthday. I haven't been able to be at any of Cleya's other birthday parties, so I was really looking forward to it.
Cleya is so sweet and definitely her own little person. She was wearing a little party dress and also struggling with the excitement of it being her birthday and her tendency to be deeply wounded by little things. "I'm feeling really sad," was a frequent refrain, though for no reason obvious to grown-ups or anything that could be articulated by Cleya-bug.
All of it is so sweet to me. My memories of Cleya's mom, Lillia, was of this blithe little spirit who was completely and totally oblivious to anything other than her own joy. Of course, I was 9 at the time Lil was 3 and becoming painfully aware of my own angst, so perhaps all of that is just my memory.
Anyway, it was precious to see a little of this bliss as Cleya opened her presents and it was so sweet to see her get excited by each thing for about 3 seconds before looking for the next opportunity to unwrap something.
After presents, she spent a lot of time guarding her possessions from Annalivia. It was pretty hilarious. Most of the time Annalivia was oblivious to whatever it was Cleya had. She just wanted to be near Cleya. Annalivia would be playing with a balloon in front of Cleya's chair and Cleya would be curled up with her My Little Pony held up over her head just in case Annalivia lunged for it. As the eldest child, I relate strongly to this.
Cleya's getting a little sibling in 7 months. Now THAT will be fun to see.

A girl and her sistahs

When Annalivia was born, I immediately felt the urge to find her a little sister. I was sitting in the doctor's waiting room three weeks after she was born telling my mother that I was ready to have the next one and that I hoped it would be a little sister for Annalivia. (Again, the euphoria sustained me through my exhaustion.) Dennis and I talked even then about how it just seems as though our next little girl is just waiting to come into our family. It has never been as though it is a variable whether she will appear. The only variable is when she will appear.
This pregnancy, I am praying for a healthy baby, but I will also confess that I have prayed that this one will be the little sister for Annalivia. This may seem blasphemous to some and I know full-well that if this baby ends up being a little boy, we will look at him when he arrives and talk about how we can't imagine him being anyone else. And we will love him for who he is.
But, having said that, there is something about having three little sisters that leads me to hope for a sister for my daughter. From my sisters I have learned so much about patience, intelligence, forgiveness and healing, imagination, and of course, love. As we grow older, and I am able to see them more as individuals and less as an extension of myself, I find myself continually being taught how to be a better sibling, a better friend, and a better person.
There was a recent article in TIME the week before last about how siblings shape us that got me thinking about this more. It is kind of amazing to me that the idea that we are more shaped by siblings than by our parents and our spouses is a new idea. From the time we were incredibly young, my parents were telling us that the closest people to us would be our siblings. I remember vividly my mother explaining that the Marissa's DNA was a lot closer to mine than hers or Dad's. I remember the "conversation" Dad delivered as Marissa and I trudged up a hill at Governor Dodge State Park, wherein he explained that the relationships with our sisters were the most important we would ever have and that those relationships deserved more respect than we were giving them on that vacation.
And it's true. Every subsequent relationship I've developed has been judged by what I've experienced with my sisters. Can I laugh with this person? Am I comfortable with this person? Can we have intense intellectual discussion? Can we agree to disagree with minimal hostility? Are they appropriately insane?
I want Annalivia to have a barometer like this, but also to have someone who brings her more joy, more love, and yes, more frustration, than she ever will think possible and who, God willing, will accompany her through the various stages of life long after her father and I return Home.
So, though we will be more than happy to welcome a little guy into our family, we look forward to and pray for the day when Annalivia will lead her little sister through the peonies, whispering in her ear, and holding hands, playing games that neither Dennis nor I will fully understand.
Though my guess is that I'll understand at least a little.

I should mention for the benefit of any sistahs reading this blog that the fact that this photo is of Rissy and me is solely due to the fact that I do not have non-akward photos of the rest of us in this house. Sorry, Kali.

Having never been more tired in my life...

(which is really saying something considering that Annalivia didn't sleep through the night until, well, she doesn't now, actually) I haven't posted any of the things that have been rolling about in my head. I've been taking HUGE 3-4 hour naps with Annalivia and still going to bed before 10 each night. I don't remember feeling this tired at all with Annalivia. Perhaps the euphoria sustained me. Of course, I'd also had four years of decent sleep before I became pregnant with her...
Anyway, sorry to be a slacker. More coming soon, perhaps.