Friendship is an odd thing. You absolutely can't live without friends, but sometimes even the best of friends misunderstand one another. Take my last blog entry, for instance. I was literally sobbing while writing it, hoping that I really would die during childbirth, pouring out my heart to the computer. The response? TWO of my friends tell me how funny I am. Go figure. I guess it was a pathetic post, and good friends can see past hormones.
Yesterday Mark, Bradford, Grace, and I went to Atlanta Flooring Design Center to look at and choose floor covering for our future house. Mark knew we needed to be decisive and choose our flooring rather than simply browse. Like I'm qualified to make judgements on flooring while pregnant! I did help narrow the choices, but I resolutely refused to make any kind of final decision. We have our carpet choices narrowed to two: one we like fine for a good price, and one we like better for a little more. And the wood he chose was a close-out that we both liked, but he still has to decide if he wants it in the kitchen and breakfast room or if he wants to go with cork in those areas. We did decide not to choose tile for the bathrooms until we actually move in to the house. Since no furniture will be placed in the bathrooms, it won't be a problem to do those areas in two months.
Aunt Brenda made my mother bring home a box of PVC pipes from the grocery store for the boys. They were in a box in the living room for many days before Bradford noticed it and opened it. Saturday morning they took the pipes and connectors down to the basement and soon Bradford came up. "Grandma, I need three buckets of water, quick!" They had made a machine that needed to be tested. The machine, explained Ben to daddy, "was a net to catch thingies. You know those little guys--spiders--that Grandma and Grandpa have in their basement. They have three of them." The boys were convinced that no water needed to be part of the machine, and they have since spent many happy (mostly) hours making things and machines with the pipes.
Speaking of my mother, she has decided that the baby should come Friday, August 11 between 7 and 8 PM. That time is convenient for everyone, she says. Have I mentioned that she is sometimes a nut case? But I did the same thing when having Nathaniel. He needed to be born on a particular day for several reasons, we prayed for it, and he was born right when we wanted him to be born! You never can tell about babies.
4 comments:
Wow, how sad. Being forced to buy a house that you hate is bad enough, but posting a "death wish" on a blog for all to see is an obvious cry for help. 4 children is apparently your mental limit. How sad that you are being forced to have more.
No, anonymous, thank you for your sympathy, but you are wrong on all points, which means you probably don't know me at all.
I don't feel like debating on my comments, so I won't. I'll only point out that I have a godly husband who loves and cares for me, and friends and family who surround me with their love and help. Most importantly, however, is the fact that God is working through all these very tough, emotionally charged situations to make me more like Christ. What you are reading on my blog posts is my admittance of being sinful and ungrateful; my unwillingness to participate in God's sanctifying work in my life. And yes, that IS sad.
I think that maybe anonymous has never been pregnant. Or if she has maybe she has forgotten how tough the final days of pregnancy and first days of babyhood are. Even when you are thrilled to pieces about it the hormones, aches and pains, sleep deprivation, worry, and crazy mood swings can make it a challenge. But many things that are well worth doing are tough. You can ask any professional athlete about that.
Well, your being pregnant accounts for the sobbing. And your being Jeni accounts for the funniness.
Post a Comment