First of all, our drive up to Georgia was accomplished in record time: 11 hours. Praise God. The only time I broke down thinking about losing the baby was when we stopped at Chick-Fil-A for lunch. There was a little boy there named Eli, and that is one of the names we had chosen for a boy. Seth Elijah.
In order to keep my focus off myself, I've been making patriotic placemats, using a bit of the mounds of fabric my mom salvaged from Kroger floral shops. I've finished 6 of them so far, and would have done more except that every time my boys see me at a sewing machine, they come up with urgent projects. Besides the mats, I've made a sleeping bag and pillow for Ben's adopted stuffed gorilla, Bogey, and a pillow and mattress for baby Baba. Still to come is a sleeping bag and blanket for Baby Baba, plus 6 more placemats. I'd also like to try to make a skirt, even though I don't really know how to sew. That'll be interesting.
Mark took the boys to the Dairy Farm. At one point the guide asked if there were any questions, and Bradford asked if the cows ever got sick. The guide answered that one, and then Ben stood up. "Do cows ever get cavities?" The guide howled, said that was a new one for him, and then told Ben that they never checked the cows' teeth, but they drank so much milk that they probably didn't get cavities. Leave it to Ben to be thinking of teeth--he brushes his about 5 times a day.
Well, my battery is going low, so I'll sign off now. Still don't know what's going on with me or with Mark. Keep praying for God to be glorified in our lives.
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