A story. Of BFFs, Mini Vans, Cardigans, and Tattoo Parlors

My best friend has been with me through every major milestone in my life for the past 8 years.

 The day I got married she was right beside me. When I went shopping for a house, she looked through it with me. When I found out I was pregnant, she got a picture of the pee stick moments after both those little lines appeared. She watched, coached, cheered, and photographed a human being coming out of me. She's always the first call I make in a crisis. She has been apart of many crazy moments in my life. The time I decided to perm my hair, that one time I got my contact stuck in my eye and had a panic attack, the time I thought Twilight was an awesome movie. So, it's only natural, that when I decided to get a tattoo, I dragged her along. 

First of course, I talked to her about it endlessly. Made her help me print out the design I wanted and tape it to the spot I wanted so I could be sure. 

And then today, we; two moms, pushing thirty, who work together at a small church; buttoned up our cardigans, slipped on our TOMs and drove in a mini van over to the tattoo parlor. 

We sat on the little couch, while I filled out the paperwork. 

C: "Are you really sure? Really really? Forever? This is what you want on you FOREVER?!?!"

A: "Eh, If I don't like it, I'll just get a big clover over it" (inside joke...only Kelli will understand)

C: "It's going to hurt so bad! Ah! Is that a skull?!? Are you really sure?!?!"

A: "I immediately regret bringing you."

C: watching other people get tattooed

A: "You might have to sit outside"

C: "You might be right. Ok, if you really want this, I'm totally here for you. I just want you to be sure. So one day you don't look back and yell at me for not stopping you."

A: "I'm all in baby."

It is nice to have someone along with you, especially during your first tattoo, so you can get pictures like this:

I feel very proud that I did not cry. Or puke. Or pass out. Or swear loudly. It wasn't that bad, and I now plan to get the rest of my body tattooed. 

So here it is:

Isn't He good?

In my last post, I told you how I was using Dawson's Creek as a mind numbing tool. I found this extremely effective. But alas, eventually I always get really sick of Dawson's whining, and Joey's unwillingness to admit that Pacey is way better than all those other losers. And so, it's back to the real world for me.

The truth is, even though God and I have had many a conversations over the past two weeks, I have avoided opening the Word. I'm not really sure why. Maybe I was afraid of what I'd find. That the words I would find would be less then comforting. Maybe I just was tired of being sad. So it was easier to turn everything off, then to face it.

So I stumbled around for a while. Not sure what to read, or where to go. Just knowing that I needed to be in the Word somewhere.

And then I found Psalms 116. Which starts out with this:

"I love the Lord, because he hears my voice"

Man, you are good God. I kept reading to find this loving reminder from my Great Big God:

"The Lord cares deeply when his loved ones die."

Thanks God. For not trying to flood me with theology about why this happened. For not trying to make me understand some great plan for this heartache. But for just reminding me that you care. That you hear me, and you care. You are good. Seriously. I'm glad it's you I'm following, all these other fools have nothing on you.

So my friends, I am doing well. And I've moved from Dawson's Creek to Fringe. Which is way more like real life.

When you share the good news, you have to share the bad.

First, let me share the story:

Disclaimer: I'm sorry if this is too much information. I wanted to share the story, and it's not a very pretty one. You do not have to read this, I will not be offended. 

I went in to the doctors on Thursday for my first prenatal appointment. I was about 9 1/2 weeks. Everything looked good, even though they couldn't find the babys heartbeat. Which is normal, 9 1/2 weeks is a little early to hear the heartbeat.

So Saturday we decided to share the news with the world. We where excited to tell all our friends and family about our new addition.

Unfortunately, Saturday I also noticed I was spotting a little. It was so little, and the doctor told me it may happen after my exam, so I decided to not worry too much about, to wait and call the doctor Monday just to be sure. But Sunday came, and so did more bleeding. I knew something was not quite right. I called and finally got ahold of a doctor, who told me to come into the office Monday to make sure we could find the baby's heartbeat.

Jeff took Lucy to her grandparents, and I called the doctor as soon as they opened. They scheduled an ultrasound for me at 11:30.

As I got ready, and noticed more blood, I think I already knew. I stood in the bathroom crying and reminding God that this was in His hands. "Come on God" I said "You have to handle this, because I cannot."

It was the longest drive to the hospital, and an even longer wait. Luckily, Jeff was able to get out of work and meet me there. They finally ushered me back to the ultrasound room.

Ultrasounds aren't supposed to be like that. It was so quiet. I knew. I couldn't make anything out, but I kept trying to tell myself that no one really could tell what anything was on the ultra sound, especially this early. But then the sweet nurse looked at me, held my arm and said "I'm going to try and grab the doctor before she leaves for lunch, because, I'm so sorry to tell you this, but I can't find baby's heartbeat."

Thats when I started crying.

The rest was a blur, the doctor talking, they needed to take my blood. Those poor nurses who had to try and find my impossible veins, all the while I just cried and cried and laughed as they made jokes about my slippery veins. I cried as I made my next appointment, I cried as I walked to the car. I wept the whole time I drove home. I walked in the door and curled up in my bed and cried some more.

I thought all the things I'm sure every women thinks in this kind of situation.

That I knew something wasn't right from the beginning. It just never felt real. That it was my fault somehow. Maybe it was those extra cups of coffee, those times I forgot my prenatal vitamin, that one time I ate a Caesar Salad.

But luckily, I have a God who doesn't always speak to me in a still small voice. Sometimes it's an "Amber Joy! Are you kidding me?!" (it sounds a lot like my mom...) He said. "No dear. Remember? This was my kid. You told me, that you'd provide the space, and I'd do the putting together. And I did."

Now let me tell you how I'm feeling:

I remember during my crying fit thinking "No! I don't want to be sad about this. I will figure out why this happened, and come out of this stronger."

Psh.

Good luck me.

I've been watching a lot of Dawson's Creek. Do you want to know why? No, it's not because of the amazing story telling that is 90's Teen Drama. It's because it's mind numbing. It literally stops your brain from forming any intellectual thought. (Except maybe "Joshua Jackson is even dreamy in velvet shirts). And that's what I want most of all.

Because I've realized something, and my dear friend reminded me of someone who put it best. They said:

 "We don't have a theology that can handle things like this. Our faith sometimes doesn't explain the awful things that happen in life."

And this is what I realized 3 important things.

One: I will always be a little sad about this. This sucks bad. I don't really have any eloquent way of saying that. This sucks. Up one side and back the other. (Seriously, I've been watching a lot of Dawson's Creek).

Two: I will never figure out why this happened. Scientifically, it makes sense. That the fetus wasn't put together quite right, so it stopped growing. But that does not make sense to me, because my God is so  much bigger than that. He put this baby together, why would he not do it right? That's ridiculous. And no sweet saying, or string of Bible verses, or song lyrics or eloquent speeches from a man with some fancy degree will ever be able to explain this to me to my satisfaction. But you know what? That's OK. I don't understand it, or know why it happened, but I do know, and trust and love the Great Big God who is control of all of it. I know that he knows. This was his kid, from the start, I was just taking care of it for a while, just like every parent. I thought I'd get a little more face time, but I know that God had a plan. I don't get it. It seems really stupid to me (sorry God), but I know he's much greater, and much smarter than I.

Three: I will not come out of this stronger. A little more humble in my own abilities. A little more aware of the blessings in my life. A lot more thankful for these people who do life with me, these friends and family. But I'm not sure I'd say I am stronger for this. I feel a little more broken, but sometimes, that's better.

I've finally stopped crying. I've laughed a little today. I'm feeling more myself.

And so friends, I wanted to write this all because so many of you are praying for us. And I thank you, and ask you to continue. So many have asked if there was anything I needed. And I'd tell you the same thing I told my dear friend. I need you to help me find the joy. I know that you are mourning and crying with me, but now dear friends, I need to find the joy, the laughter. So find that with me.

How Super Nanny Potty Trained My Kid

Potty Training. I know right. If your not a mom, you really don't get how amazing it is to teach another human being not to crap their pants.

It seems so easy. Natural. No one likes to sit in their own feces. Right? Wrong. Lucy was the happiest with poop in her pants. She played so nice and quiet all by herself when she was "dropping the kids off at the pool" and was in no hurry to get cleaned up.

So potty training has not been easy. She actually likes sitting on the potty, has for a long time, she just never seemed to understand the feeling you get before you pee. Or at least, she didn't care enough to pay attention to it.

That is, until we watched Super Nanny.

First of all, any given episode of Super Nanny will either make you feel like Super Mom, or you will start filming your own submission tape. Well the episode we watched had a 3 1/2 year old boy who 1.) refused to go potty and 2.) was a terribly picky eater.



Dear Super Nanny.....

So I decided to take this opportunity to make Lucy watch it with me, and talk about what the little boy did that was "naughty".

She got really into it, and so we decided the next day when she woke up, we would be all done with diapers, and wear Big Girl Panties.

Confession: I was not very motivated to follow through. But Lucy remembered.

So this morning we took off her diaper from the night before and put on panties.

And then she went to the potty. And decided she didn't want her "Dora Seat" (the kid sized seat we have to put on the toilet). And would just hold herself up on the seat.

And then she fell in the potty.

And I didn't even laugh out loud! Or freak out because she was in the dirty potty! I calmly cleaned her up and put her Dora Seat back on and then she

PEED.

Awesome. But not totally new. She's peed occasionally  Usually a coincidence  If you make your kid sit on the potty all day, she'll eventually pee in it.

She sat on it a lot more all day, like every 10 minutes. Totally her own choice. I wondered how long this would last, and was glad she didn't need me to help her each time.

And then.

AND THEN...

We where sitting on the couch together. Lucy, me and Dora. Watching some TV. And Lucy turns to me and says "Hey mom, will you hold Dora for a few minutes while I go pee?"

"Sure kid."

"Thanks." toddles off to the bathroom, sits on the potty.

And then I hear the most beautiful sound.

tinkle. tinkle tinkle.

"MOOOOOM!!! I DID IT!"

And she did. She peed all by herself, she felt it coming and she did it.

Hallelujah. She's LEARNING! I THINK SHE'S GOT IT! BY GEORGE I THINK SHE'S GOT IT!"

This only just happened today, so I may be celebrating and blogging prematurely. But I swear to you the moment I hear the sweet sound of:

"Plop. Plop Plop."

I will be tweeting it. And instagraming a hipster filtered photo of the contents of that big potty. And posting it on facebook and tagging my husband in it.


EDIT: I just got peed on. Sigh. 

Thrift Store Treasures

I love thrift stores. And there are some really great ones very close to me. My favorites? Ok, I'll share:

1. The Depot. In Goshen, right next to the Old Bag Factory. This is a great place for anything. Furniture, clothes, dishes. And also has a pretty great selection of antiques and craft supplies! And the prices...amazing. Better than Goodwill I'd say. And they always have a selection of stuff 1/2 off. They also have a section of "canning goods" where you can find canning jars (including mason jars) for between 10-20 CENTS! Boom.

2. Hart City Resale Mall. In Elkhart off of Nappanee/SR19. This place. is. huge. Some stuff is way overpriced, but if you've got the time and patience, you can find some real treasures.

3. Home Again. Downtown Goshen. There are a lot of antique/resale/thrift stores downtown Goshen, and I have yet to visit them all. But this one is really huge and cool. And their prices go down the longer an item sits on the shelf. Sometimes you can find a treasure that's been there forever, and you get a great price.

There are so many more, but I'd suggest you visit these three most of all. Here are some of the treasures I've found:

I got these beauties for about $1.50 a piece. I don't really know what to do with them...but they are pretty.

I love the look of old cameras. I'm a totally fake hipster thought because I know next to nothing about them.

I found this at Better World Books the other day. Someone please say they watched The Office Christmas episode and can laugh at this.

This mustache mug is amazing.

I found this chair for $3 and painted it and reupholstered the seat. Now I may redecorate my whole house to match it. 

This has been at the Hart City Resale Mall for a long time. I want it SO BAD but it's over $100. 

So cute tin toys I didn't need.

I made Stella a "dress up suit case" from mostly thrifted things. We always had a suitcase full of dress up clothes when I was growing up, so I decided every little girl needs one.

So get out there friends, and find some previously loved treasures!

Christmas Fun

I love shopping. Especially for presents. But I really hate when a million other people are doing the same thing. Which is why I'm very thankful to be in the Goshen area this year. I love that there are all the basic stores I want (Starbucks...Target....) plus at least a dozen thrift stores within a 5 mile radius of my house. Lucy and I have been having a great time Christmas shopping.

First comes Jeff's birthday, on the 7th. So Lucy and I had a shopping date to find him some treasures at the thrift store.

I asked her what he'd like, and she kept saying he needed a new bicycle, because his had a flat tire. After I explained to her that 1.) We can't afford a new bicycle, they are expensive and 2.) Daddy never rides his bike anyway; she decided to get him a board game. To play with "the boys" when they come over.

But first, lunch at the side door deli. Yum.

She was very proud that she picked the present herself, and even helped wrap it!

And then Lucy and I had a date one night to look for some more presents for our family.

I showed her this sweater for Uncle Brent. She said "No! Mom! That's weird!!!....I'm sorry I said weird"
 (we are working on "not nice" words)

 After some more thrift store hunting, and picking out wrapping paper at hobby lobby (polka dot...of corse) we, again, went out for some food. Except this time, she really wanted to go to the "Hot Chocolate Store" and sit down and have hot chocolate (She means a coffee house...she's so mine.)
So we went to Panera and she had hot chocolate and a bagel for dinner.

"Mom! Quit taking pictures of me! Give me your phone."

"There, now I took a picture of you." puts phone away

I seriously enjoy the time I spend with her. Now, let's be honest, I suck at discipline so she's naughty. She throws fits, she thinks she gets everything she wants, and it's impossible to walk through a store without saying "LUCY ANNE! Don't touch that!". But she cracks me up. She's kind to people. She says "Thank you!" to the people who hold open the door for us, she holds long strange conversations with strangers who say hello to her, and she will not let you ignore her if she says "Hi". "MOM! WHY'S THAT LADY NOT SAYING HI BACK?! HIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIH!"At Panera she kept doing goofy things and I'd say "Lucy! You're crazy!" and she'd giggle and say "I AM funny!" 

Last night, Jeff and I took her out to Mishawaka to do some more Christmas shopping. We went to Old Navy to look for a new dress for her, and for the first time, I picked out a bunch of dresses and took her in the changing room to try them on. Oh. My. Gosh. I wish I had taken a video of it. She loved it. She picked out the dresses she liked, toddled off to the room, and proceeded to twirl and dance in each dress to show her daddy. After we tried them all on I said "Now we have to pick which ones we buy" and she looked at all of them hanging up, and said "How about we buy allllll of these" and pointed at all the dresses. We are in big trouble.

She ended up deciding on a gray dress with pink stars that she picked out all by herself. She will wear it for church Sunday when the little kids sing "Away in a Manger" in front of the church (I am so excited for this.) 

We took her to Krispy Kreme at 9 o'clock at night, because we had some free coupons and we never go out that way. She was so excited to get a snow man donut, and thought it was hilarious that she wore a "Jacob Hat" (poor Jacob...she knows you by your silly paper hat.)

I've come to the conclusion that sometimes being a "bad mom" makes you a really good one. Sometimes forgetting the rules of bedtimes...and healthy eating :)...can make some great memories with your family. But I could be totally wrong. She may grow up to be Honey Boo-Boo. 

I'm a terrible blogger

Let's just take a moment and discuss how I sucked up 30 Days Hath November.

I sucked it up.

I don't know why it was so hard for me to do this year, I wouldn't say I'm any more busy this year. I just failed.

Sorry friends.

Or one person that reads this.

Rachel Jones. What up? :)

So let me make it up to you.

Starting now:

With this awesomely hilarious clip from a Simpson's episode that aired last week. It's possibly my favorite episode ever. Because it's all about hipsters. And I love it.

Anyway, this clip pretty sums up my "Confessions of a Bottle Feeding Mom" title nicely.






This is my new favorite quote, from Marge:

"Parenting should be about a 'style'! Parenting is about bedtimes! And computer passwords! And complicated punishments you make up and never follow through on!"

Yessss....Amen.

More posts to come. About what an awesome/terrible mom I am.