Sleep, oh sleep, where art thou?

I'm not sure anyone can understand the deepest desire of sleep until they have children. Before Julia I really thought the sleep deprivation wouldn't be a big deal. I pulled all nighters in college. I spent one semester sleeping less than 4 hours a night on average. I know what it feels like to always want to take a nap, always feel a little slow, and always dependent on caffeine.

Then I had Julia and I realized I didn't have a clue.

With the lack of sleep in college it was by choice. I chose to stay up. I chose to play and then study. But I always napped. Ah, yes, I napped a lot. There was this really great library on campus that was really small and old and hardly anyone ever went there. Anyways, they had these two oversized leather chairs that looked out over the South Mall by the UT Tower. I would go up there nearly every day, kick back in the chair and read for class. Actually, I just slept. And when I didn't nap there, I would nap on the lawn of the South Mall while again "reading".

Naps now seem like a gift. Mostly because while everyone says you should nap when the baby naps it's virtually impossible, that is if you still want to do anything you did before you had a baby, like, I don't know, shower for one thing. And another thing about naps, babies don't always want to fall asleep. I just assumed all babies liked sleeping and would sleep as soon as you said "go". But that's not really the case. And getting them to sleep is like a performance. You rock, you sway, you pat, you shush, you lay down and you walk out. Now, I know that there's the idea to let the baby "cry it out". Frankly, I'm all for that. But since Jules is only 3 1/2 weeks old, I'm not going that route for now. In the future, yes, but now, no.

And along with naps are waking up. There is a HUGE difference between Julia fully napped up and Julia being awoken before she's ready. Napped up Julia is happy and cooing. Sleepy Julia is cranky and ticked. I don't blame her, I'm the same way. And if she's anything like her father (which it's scary how much she is) then she's really cranky and ticked. Then when you have people who want to wake her up, that has to be the biggest irritant. Obviously people don't realize the song and dance it took to get her to sleep and now they want to wake her up. Not because she needs to get up, but because they want to hold her. Hold her car seat. Take a picture of her and hold that. But, please, oh please, for the sake of sleep, don't wake the baby!

Too much cuteness

Maybe, just maybe... Part Two

Maybe, just maybe I don't have a clue what I'm doing.

This week has been a whirlwind. Starting Monday night, Julia decided she wanted to cry, a lot. She cried most of the day Tuesday and Wednesday. Yesterday she gave me a bit of a breather, which I really needed! Jonathan and I spent the first two days try to narrow down the reasons for her crying and we think (and could be way wrong) that Jules has a intolerance to legumes. Our reasoning behind this idea is that I ate peanut butter for the first time since she was born (on Monday and then on Tuesday) and that's when her crying all started. And I've had this gut feeling ever since we got home from the hospital that she didn't take well to beans whenever I ate them. Now, like I said, this is all just new parent somethings-wrong-with-my-kid-what-is-it hypothesis. Who knows, maybe she's just a talker. Which in all reality she'll have to be to survive in this family.

I've come to the conclusion that being a mom is the world's hardest job. I'm sure brain surgery is pretty tough, but I'm still going to say mommyhood is tougher. See, brain surgeons at least get training. Me, I got nada. I had younger brothers I baby sat, but nothing like this. And there is this since of panic when you realize that you and you alone know more about your child than anyone else in the world. HA! Are you kidding me? My understanding of the way Julia works is about as great as my understanding of brain surgery. So, that in of itself is what makes this the hardest job ever. That and the pee.

I've never been peed on and puked on more in my life. I know little boys are notorious for peeing on you, but girls?! Yep, Julia has now successfully peed on my four times in the last 30 hours. Twice she even had on a diaper. Stupid Huggies. And she's puked on me more times than that. The crazy thing is, she seems more upset about all of this than me. She pees all over and then starts crying. She pukes and looks at me like "Holy smokes, what was that?! Help me!".

But somehow through all the pee, puke and endless crying, there are some amazing moments. Like this morning. After her mid morning feeding, I had Julia propped up on my lap on some pillows and she was just staring at me and smiling (I know it was probably gas, but this momma is pretending it's a real smile) and just looking absolutely beautiful. And in that moment I thought "This is why moms do it. We do it because through all the rough times, the sleepless nights, the crying, the peeing, the puking, we get to have this sense of what God must think about us. Through all our messiness, we look up at Him with total admiration, total love, and smile at Him with awe for how He provides and cares for us through it all. And as we are looking at Him, He's staring back at us with a heart filled with more joy and love than we will ever know and more wiliness to continue cleaning us up, fixing our lives and making us whole."

Maybe, just maybe...

...I'm going to make it.

In review of the last week, things are getting better. I'm slowly starting to get my head wrapped around all the ideas of motherhood and my confidence is growing, even if a millimeter a day.

Today was a really good day. We went back to the doctor and Julia has gotten back (and passed) her birth weight. She's gained a 1/2 pound in one week, which is super good! We also went by my old work to introduce her to my co-workers. And while she screamed like none other at the appointment, I just started to realize, "Hey, babies cry, people will get over it."

Also, the feeding thing is getting smoother. We're still getting adjust to it, but like one of the nurses said today "Well, I bet the feedings are better than a week ago, and a lot better than two weeks ago." She's right. They are. And they will continue to get better.

While I could sit here and think, "Sarah, you're a great mom. You rock" all I can really think is, "Wow, God. You are a great God. I couldn't do any of this without You. Thank You." And it's true. Every day, good or bad, is a blessing from God. Today was good. Yesterday was rough. Tomorrow could go either way. But God is the same, His grace is the same, His love is the same. And that alone is worthy of my praise.

So, thank You, God. You rock.

Hello Motherhood! Goodbye Sanity!

As I am sure everyone knows, Jonathan and I had our daughter, Julia Mabel, on Friday, November 23. She weighed 8 lbs, .03 oz. She is a beautiful, precious, adorable gift from our loving heavenly Father. I can't even begin to express my joy when I hold her, feed her, love on her. I have no doubt that she will continue to be a joy and delight in my life forever.

Now, a little about her birth: (FYI, this might be TMI)

Jonathan, my mom, my brother John, and I went shopping around 6 am on the 23rd. We hung out at the Coral Ridge Mall till about 9 or so, and then came back home. I planned on resting for a little while but decided to do a little house cleaning first. About half way through vacuuming, I felt a leakage. Deep down I knew it had to be my water or something like it, but wasn't totally convinced. Then around 10:30 I started having some bad cramping, like what I'd get with a period. They weren't coming to close, but I asked my mom what she thought. She said, "Well, sweetie, I think you're in labor". So, we called Jonathan (who was still out shopping) and told him he'd better plan on heading back soon.

By noon my contractions were coming about 5-10 minutes apart and lasting about 30-45 seconds. Jonathan and I took a walk around our cul de sac before deciding it best to leave for the hospital. By 1:30 we checked in to Labor and Delivery. Now, forgive me, but this is the part where things get a little fuzzy for me. I was put in a triage room and the nurse hooked me up to two monitors; one for my contractions and one for Julia's heartbeat. The on call doctor checked me and found that I was 5-6 centimeters dialated and 50-60% effaced. I was monitored for about 30 minutes before I asked to walk around, as I'm not one to be okay with being confined to a bed. Jonathan helped me waddle down the hall, met up with my family and take a 20 minute walk before I decided that I was 1) too sleepy to keep going; 2) in even more pain since the contractions were coming even sooner.

We made it back to the triage room just to find out that in the 1 1/2 hours that I had been there, I'd already gone to 7-8 centimeters dialated. And this, this my friends is when the pain kicked in.

Before I left the triage room, the urge to push had already started. Then to top it off, the water that I had been sucking down came back up (way gross). I moved over to a delivery room and this is where my story ends. No, honestly, I really don't remember a whole lot more. But I can piece some things together for you:

1. My doctor, who was in Burlington showed up.

2. The urge to push was growing. And so was the pain.

3. The urge to push was still growing. And so was the pain.

4. At some point I asked to go to the bathroom. Jonathan helped me along, when the urge to push hit. Ok, so look, when you want to push and you aren't allowed to, yeah, that's the hard part of labor. So, here I am, sitting on the pot, needing to push, not being allowed to push, just wanting to push. That's when Jonathan stepped up to the plate. He squatted down, and said "Sarah, do you know why you can't push? If you push, you will cause damage to yourself. You will tear and be in more pain than you are now. So, you need to obey. You have to obey. You cannot push until we tell you."

5. Back in the bed, still wanting to push. Now, I start asking for some drugs. Anything. I really don't care. And again, Jonathan steps up. He just keeps repeating. "You can do this." And then when I'd want to push, he'd keep repeating "Sarah, you have to obey".

6. I think at some point I actually blacked out. I say this only because I remember "coming to" and not realizing where I was. And then I had a contraction. And then I remembered.

7. My mom. I love my mom. Before I went into labor I wasn't convinced I wanted my mom to be there with me. I have issues with modesty, and frankly birth isn't very modest, so it seemed weird to me to have her there. But at some point you just stop caring. And really, my mom was amazing. Did I mention that she's had 6 kids and was a Labor and Delivery nurse for 20 odd years? Well, yeah, needless to say, she was a God send. She really helped me to know what was coming next and what to expect. She reminded me to breathe. She got me to start focusing on Jonathan instead of closing my eyes the whole time. I'm not sure I paid too much attention to everything she said at the time, but I couldn't have made it through without her.

8. The doctor, or someone, gave the okay to push. Holy Smokes. This is the best part of labor. All this time you can't do much other than breathe and not push. But now, now you can actually do something productive.

9. Julia Mabel is born!! There lots of other things that happened between the "you can push" and Julia actually arriving, but perhaps that's too much for people. All I know is at one point I became very good at yoga.

10. Grace. Selflessness. Humility. God is going to be teaching me a lot. It's true what they say, God gives us children to shape our character, not just theirs. I've really been struggling for the last 10 days. But, you know what, God has really provided. Now, I need to just let Him keep providing, keep leading. I have way more questions than answers. I feel really lost with this whole motherhood thing. I cry a lot. But I think this is good. It breaks me. It makes me rely on God, on my husband and my friends. I'm not one to ask for help, yet I think that will change. I like perfection. I like routine. I like having things in place, on time and smooth. God's got something big in store. And I'm pretty sure it's not going to be routine, in place, on time or smooth. However, it will be His will for my family, for my life, and that's what is most important.

**If at any time you want to toss up some prayers for us that would be great.**

Losing control, or dying to yourself

I'm slowly going out of my mind. Literally. Sleep has been pretty scarce the last week, and it's taking a toll on my body/mind. The hard part is, the baby still hasn't arrived so it's not as though I'll be getting a lot of sleep with her around anyways.

And speaking of her... God has a funny way of stopping me in my tracks.

For several weeks, no make that a couple of months, this fear that my daughter is actually going to come out a son has been lurking in my mind. Like normal, I've learned to suppress my thoughts/feelings on this issue until they hit me upside my head. Last night I had a long conversation with one of my dearest friends from back home, Rabeea. Her sister just had a baby, whom everyone thought was a girl (confirmed by two ultrasounds) and turned out to be a boy. During that conversation I realized I need to get some things right before the Lord.

I am not entitled to a daughter. I am not entitled to a son. Frankly, nowhere in the Bible does it say I am entitled to anything other than being a child of God. And really, we could stop right there and life would be complete, but our Father wants to bless. And so He has. I'm pregnant. Becoming pregnant was a fervent prayer of mine for over a year. And here I am, finishing up what has been a wonderful pregnancy.

Then last night I fully realized I've been obsessing over having a daughter ever since I found out she was a she (I know I would have done the same if I was told from the get go it was a he). People have made comments like "Well, you never know, it could be a boy" and I found myself getting angry with them. I took it as a personal attack and found myself being upset and defensive each time someone dared to second guess our ultrasound.

But the Lord knows that we will break. He knows that we will fall and come crawling back to Him. And because He is a good and loving God, because He has compassion, He holds us, dusts us off and never complains that it's taken us far longer than it should to humble ourselves.

And that is what I am doing. I was up for most of the night crying and praying. I want nothing more than to have a daughter. I want it because I have everything I need for a girl. I have formed a bond with what I know to be my daughter. I call her by name, speak prayers of blessing over her, and have spent much time just in thought over how God will use her in her life. But, really, what if I have a boy? What if through all this time, through my delivery, my doctor says, "It's a boy!" how will I be? Will I rejoice? Or will I question God? Will I wonder why He has provided everything for a girl just to give us a boy? Or will I trust that just as He provided once, He will provide again?

It is my desire to trust the Lord with all my heart and all my understanding. But I'll be honest, I don't. I live in fear. I live in doubt. But, last night God met me where I am and I realized that I don't need to come to Him in completeness, I need to come to Him broken. He wants me to step out in faith amid doubt and to surrender even when I feel like I can't. He wants me to surrender my daughter. And so I did. It was hard, harder it seems than when I surrendered getting pregnant to Him. I've spent too much time believing and trusting in the wrong things. It hurts to have to die to your flesh and your desires. And I haven't fully. I'm still praying that if it's God's will everything will hold true and we will deliver a health baby girl. But God's grace is good, and even in the last 18 hours I've come to more fully trust that He is in control and I am not. That He knows best and I do not. Just like with my miscarriage, His thoughts and ways are higher than mine, and while I didn't understand why He allowed what He did, He knew. And it was, and still is, simply my responsibility to trust Him and continue to follow after Him.

So, I rejoice! And if The Windhams end up with a son instead of a daughter, you can count on him being loved beyond what my heart can even comprehend right now.

Eight days and counting

I've got eight days until my "due date". I use that term very loosely for several reasons.

1) I've been given three due dates. And today was actually one of them. The official date is the 23rd, but I'm liking today more than that one.

2) Just because you're due on a date doesn't mean the baby is coming. It's not like a wedding. I mean you can still count down, but it's not gonna happen just because Google says you have eight days left.

Anyways, I've come to the point that I'm ready to move on to the next stage. I've really enjoyed this last week of "freedom", but I'm thinking I'd rather see my little girl now. We had an appointment today and actually prayed in the waiting room that we would go into labor this weekend. Now, it's God's will and all when she arrives, but Jonathan and I would both be thrilled if this weekend lined up with His will. So yeah, maybe this is a prayer request via Blogger... prayer for a healthy, safe delivery and that it could come this weekend.

Either I'm pregnant or old...

Last night Jonathan and I went to dinner with two of my co-workers. We had a really great time and tried out the Texas Roadhouse that just came into town. Nothing like a steak... Matt E jokes with me that our daughter is going to come out demanding steak and potatoes. I really wouldn't be surprised if she did.

Anyways, moving on. We meet up for dinner then went to see a nearly 3 hour movie. By the last 45 minutes my back was hurting so bad I figured I was either in labor or my daughter was making me pay for sitting for almost five hours total.

I went home and pulled out the heating pad and fell asleep sitting almost upright. This morning I woke up and thought "Wow Sarah, the only people you know who sleep upright with heating pads are people over the age of 75."

And so, I've decided that pregnancy is one of God's ways to prepare women for old age. We can't hold our bladder, our backs hurt, our hips hurt, we enjoy going to bed before the sun goes down, we walk about 3 times slower than anyone else and we get a little cranky if not properly feed.

Pregnancy musings, or, Thoughts from a Hippo

My tinker finally hit the 9 month mark. 4 weeks left and counting.

There are a few things that I've come to realize over the last month:

1. No matter how high your self esteem is, when you can't get out of bed on your own you tend to think maybe you're a tad on the "big" size.

2. When you walk into HyVee and hear someone say "Wow, you've gotten really big" you automatically think they are talking about you. Only when you turn around do you realize they are talking to a 5 year old.

3. If you go on a weekend getaway with your hubby, don't be surprised if the people running the B&B give you the name and number of the local nurse "just in case".

4. Even though you might forget at times that your pregnant (maybe it's just me, but I'm a rather forgetful person and can even forget I'm pregnant... if for all of 2 seconds) you are rudely reminded when you try to do the following:

A. Wash dishes
B. Do laundry
C. Get up from a chair
D. Sit down in a chair
E. Walk
F. Try to jump up on a counter top to sit (yes, I actually did this last night. Don't ask why I thought I could do it, but I think it's because I honest forgot about the basketball I have under my shirt).

5. Laying down has never been so scary. I can't even recline in a chair without my breathing being cut off.

6. Mostly, I've come to realize that while my body is no longer my own, I can't begin to express the joy I have when I feel my daughter move, hiccup, kick or anything else. It really has been an amazing 36 weeks, and I am truly grateful to God for every last minute of it.

It's okay, I'm still awesome

This morning I went over to Jonathan's office to drop off his phone that I forgot to give him before we left the house. Then we decided to walked down from the 3rd floor of the hospital to the 1st to put a few letters in the mail. Before we left I needed to take a potty break.

I went into the girl's bathroom, thinking "Wow, did they change this since the last time I was here? It's a lot smaller than I remember". Nevertheless, I do my business. Surrounding me are some rather inappropriate comments, and the thought passes through my brain "Man, girls are kinda vulgar".

I leave the stall to wash my hands, only to come face to face with a urinal. That's right, I was standing in the men's restroom. I quickly turned around and went straight for the door. When I came out Jonathan looks at me funny and we both look at the sign next to the door that clearly says "MEN". He's response, "Did you just go in the guy's room?". Yes, yes I did. I am a genius in a dunce hat. But it's okay, I'm still awesome.

Flaunt what ya momma gave ya

I never grew up really celebrating Halloween. I went trick or treating a few times, but nothing worth while. Once I was older, well, I was older, and who goes knocking on their neighbors' doors for candy at 25?

However, every year since I've moved to Iowa I've attended a Halloween party. My co-worker loves Halloween and goes all out each year with a top notch gathering. Since this will most likely be our last year to attend (as we've decided Baby Dubya won't be partaking in Halloween), I figured I needed to go all out with my costume and big belly.

Here are some of my personal favorites:

























I've thought about being a redneck with a big ol' beer belly; wear some tattered jeans, a white shirt that shows the bottom of my stomach, get a mullet wig and carry around a beer. Maybe Jonathan could be my "woman".

A post away from the norm

I don't usually voice my political opinions. There are several reasons for this, but mostly I've come to realize that they are, after all, only opinions, and therefore shouldn't be argued over. I surprise myself by saying that, given how outspoken I was during college, but a lot has changed in the last 3 years.

However, every now and again I come across something that demands my attention and voice. An article that I read today in the Sojourners Magazine really spoke to me. It was from their November 2006 issue, entitled "Hearts & Minds: Who Will Protect Us From Him?".

The article touches on a lot of questions I've had over the last 5+ years. It really made me beg the question "How wrong are we"? I don't really care who is for or against our current administration, there is nothing we can do about that for another year. What I do care about is how we are damaging our faith by having a skewed view of God. In Christianity there are rights and there are wrongs. The same holds true in an ethically moral world. But can we really say we are absolutely right and someone else is absolutely wrong? Can we really say that God is on our side 100%? I don't really think so.

Life lessons learned the hard way, aka, The day I had no ankles

Jonathan and I went to Minnesota this weekend for a conference on being an organic church. We drove up there on Friday and came back super late Saturday.

From the beginning, we informed our other passengers that we'd need to stop quite often, since at this stage I can't stay in one position too long. The ride up was without problems. We stopped several times and while I felt a little sore when we arrived, for the most part all was good.

Coming back however, not so good. Every thing stared off right. We drove about an hour and a half before stopping at Cabela's to eat and walk around. Cabela's is a man's playground. I've never seen so many stuffed animals, camo and guns in the same place. And for dinner, I even ate a bison burger. I must admit, I'm a little ashamed of myself for that, because I really love buffalo and felt kinda bad for eating one.

Anyways, we got back on the road, stopping on one more time before we got home. Apparently, this is where I went wrong. In my head I knew we should have stopped more, but since I didn't have to go to the bathroom I figured this was no point.

Well, last night when I was getting ready for bed, I realized my feet were really tingly, sorta like when they've been asleep and are finally waking up. I look down to see that my feet are swollen to twice their normal size! Holy cow. I made Jonathan take pictures (although, sadly I'm not posting them, because it's slightly embarrassing) and I couldn't stop laughing for a good 5 minutes. I propped my legs up for a while and then went to sleep figuring that they'd be back to normal by this morning. It looks like I was wrong. While they aren't nearly as bad as last night, they are still pretty swollen, and the bad part is they are starting to really hurt. It's a bit painful to walk around. I'm hoping that resting them today will help with the swelling and pain. We'll see!

I think the salsa is effecting my brain

This week has been the week from, well, you know where. Not in my personal life, but in my work life. I guess when you work in HR you sign up to work with a bunch of 50 year old who act like they are 12. So, be warned all you who are thinking of applying for my job...

Because I have barely had a lunch break in the last 3 days, I have a ton of pinned up thoughts circling in my brain, so this blog might not make any sense.

Thought 1 - Ben Harper came out with a new cd, Lifeline. Jonathan and I picked it up last week and it's really quite excellent. It's a move away, in my opinion, of the white album on Both Sides of the Gun, but not the slow, emotional verses of the black album. He's thrown in some pretty awesome cords that seem to be a throw back to canjun music. I'm not sure it's my favorite cd yet (not much can top Welcome to the Cruel World), but it's Ben, so I don't complain.

Thought 2 - Jonathan, the love of my life, is now the household handy man. For a week and a half now we've had no access to our main bathroom, because we've deciced to redo the floor. Leah suggested that I have a written contract that the bathroom is completed by October 1, which might not be a bad idea... But in all reality, I think Jonathan wants it all done more than I do. Plus, it doesn't help that I can't do anything but say "ooh" "aww" and give words of encouragement. However, I can say that if I don't see the inside of a Lowe's or Menard's for the next year I'd be quite alright with that.

Thought 3 - I love my job. I really do. But I will be so very happy when I don't have to work here anymore. If there is one thing that I have learned while working here, it is, we will forever be stuck in 7th grade. If you didn't like your middle school years, too bad, because adult world is no better. Did you feel awkward, feel outcasted, feel like no one understood you when you were 12? Well, I hate to break it to you, but it doesn't change much just because you got a college education and decided to join the "real world".

Thought 4 - Jack is nuetered.

Thought 5 - Jonathan and I started our birthing class last week. I don't think anyone has said two words (except during the first ice breaker game) since the class started. Jonathan and I cannot handle this type of silence. I think I've started laughing at just about everything that goes on in the class. Not because it's funny, but because there is so much tension that laughing is the only way I know to cope. Look, I've no doubt that pushing a 7 lb baby out of my body is going to be a very hard and difficult process, but seriously, isn't funny when our instructor sits on a stool, graps her ankles and pulls her legs up to her ears to show us how to push during labor? I mean, come on people, that is a classic!

Thought 6 - Fall is approaching. I love the fall. It is my favorite time of the year for so many reasons. First, the cool weather is amazing (more so now that I'm pregnant). Second, fall means holidays. Fall is the first reminder that Thanksgiving and Christmas are going to be coming again once more. And that to me is one of the most important things about fall. :)

Thought 7 - Third trimester. Ugh. I love being pregnant. It's been a real blessing and I am truly so very thankful to the Lord for what He's doing. But at the same time I think that I've come fully into to my third trimester. My body hurts, constantly. And the super cute pregnant clothes that my friends so graciously let me borrow aren't fully covering up my tummy any more. In several tops the bottom of my belly is hanging out. Hmmm... maybe if I was European I could get away with that look, but not so much here in Iowa. It might be time to use the last of my Kohl's gift card to get a few more tops.

Thought 8 - Sleep is nice. I don't always get it, but when I do it's heavenly. In fact, I think I might take tomorrow off just to sleep.

It's official, I don't do well under stress

Today started like every other work day. I woke up, got ready for work, ate some breakfast and walked to my bus stop. And that is where every thing went wrong.

I'm sitting on the bus, reading one of my baby books, when I started to feel a little queasy. I figured it was because I was reading and riding (not that I normally have motion sickness), so I put my book away. Then I started feeling warm, so I took off my cardigan. My head starts swimming, and I realize I'm sweating profusely. My palms are so wet, pools of sweat have formed. My face was wet to the touch, wet like I had just gone running. Now I begin to freak out. It's all setting in that I am about to pass out.

Now I grew up with a mother who is a nurse. I've never shied away from blood, guts, vomit, etc. As soon as I realized what was happening, I tried to put my head between my legs and take deep long breathes. Ok, first off, being 28 weeks pregnant and putting your head between your legs on a bus, is like making wine out of water, it would be a miracle.

Then BAM! Before I know it, I'm coming to. It's was like I was waking up from some really strange dream. I had no clue where I was, what was going on. I tried to remain calm. I realized no one had noticed, so all I needed to do was get off the bus as soon as possible and get some fresh air.

As soon as I left the bus, I called my mom. She told me to call Jonathan and go to my doctor immediately. I called Jonathan. By this point all common sense had been cast into the wind. I begin crying hysterically, which freaks Jonathan out. Between broken sobs I managed to tell him what happened and to meet me at the hospital. As I'm walking to the doctor's I meet my boss. Again, common sense is no where to be found, and I managed to get out "Going to hospital. Not coming in. Call you."

After an hour, Jonathan and I are seen by a nurse. Then half an hour later by a doctor. During this whole time Jonathan is doing his best to keep me from crying, assuring me that everything is a-ok.

By the end, it turns out that my blood pressure was a bit low, and I was partially dehydrated. Baby Dubya's heart rate was between 140-150 (which is perfect). She had been active after breakfast and even shortly after the whole incident. Even now, she's bopping around. So she is perfectly healthy and has no clue what happened.

Wow, so that was my day. I am thanking my Lord that everything is fine. Even in the midst of a emotional shake down, He was right there, continuing to guard my child and me.

Some of the best things in life are free... or at least 1/2 price

It has arrived.

Yesterday Sonic had training day and put all their menu items at half price as a means to generate buzz and business.

I had a combo with a cherry limeade for $2.30. It was delicious. Every single bite.

I could even go back today....

How many blondes does it take...

To melt a microwave?

Just one. Me.

I tried popping some popcorn for my afternoon snack. I was standing in the breakroom listening to the pops, reading the newspaper, when I smelled this really awful smell. I turned around and smoke was billowing from the microwave. I opened up the door, only to find that the plastic on the inside of the door was melting.

I had one of my co-workers come see it, when next thing I know everyone is yelling at me to leave. "Sarah, what are you thinking?! You can't be in here with these fumes! Leave!" So, I spent the next hour avoiding my office until I got the clear from everyone. The microwave was hauled off on a cart headed for the dump. It was like a funeral procession as everyone came out to see what was happening, and I just stood in the hall with my hands in my pockets saying "I didn't mean to, I swear."

And what makes this all so funny, is that Jonathan and I bought this new kind of popcorn and I swear every time I make it something goes wrong.

The popcorn burns.

The popcorn never pops.

The bag is burned so bad there is a hole in it.

Or, the microwave melts.

Chubby bunny fingers

First, let me just say "THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!" to all of my wonderful girlfriends who have generiously let me borrow their preggo clothes. I can't even begin to tell you guys how great it is to a) not spend a ton of money on a whole new wardrobe, b) actually have clothes that aren't being held up by hair ties.

Something that I have come to realize is that I really do like being pregnant. Of course, I think it does my self-esteem wonders when Jonathan tells me how beautiful I am every day. Plus, it's a perk when you have super cute clothes to wear everyday instead of your too-tight-pre-pregnancy clothes. So, all in all, I've not had major issues with my expanding form.

However, I will say there have been a few things I didn't bargain for. One of those being a change in my ring size. Now, I will be honest in saying my fingers are small. I'm not sure why they are, but it seems to be a family thing. My mom has small fingers, my grandmother had small fingers, and so do I. Now, I should also note that not my whole finger is small, just the point before and after my knuckle. The knuckle itself is the size of Texas, literally. For that reason, I have always had some struggle with my wedding rings. They fit fine once on my finger, but sliding them over the knuckle takes some force. But, I've never worried about it since I never usually take them off.

Well, last week I realized that my rings were beginning to hurt my finger. Actually I noticed it a while ago, but sucked it up and wore them anyway. But last week I couldn't take it anymore, I took off my rings (and several layers of skin around my knuckle!) and have been wearing them around my neck. I'm feeling rather naked without them on and have started wearing some blue ring I found buried in my jewelry box. I'm really hoping this was a ring that Jonathan gave me at some point so that I can at least still say that I'm wearing a ring my husband gave me.

I think I might endeavor to buy a nice silver ring for the future. But still, I am in shock at how chubby my fingers have gotten. My sister-in-law, Shelly, was joking with me last night and said "Well, I've always wondered were skinny people put their extra weight. Not their butt or thighs, but apparently their fingers!".

Day dream believer

I'm a day dreamer by nature. I loved "playing" softball because it meant I could go day dream in the outfield for most of the game. On the few occasions that a ball came my way, my head was so far in the clouds I forgot what I was even there to do.

I grew up day dreaming about a variety of different things, that changed, literally, on a moments notice. For years I dreamed of backpacking through Europe, sleeping in parks and living as a hitchhiker. One day my brother, Jesse, and I picked up a hitchhiker and I was so scared that I decided I could never actually ride in a car with a total stranger in a strange country. So quickly my hitchhiking through Europe dream was over.

Oh, by far my best day dream (and actually night dream) revolve around me being in the CIA. I think it would be the coolest thing to be a spy, speaking ten different languages, being in really intense situations and relying only on your wit to get you out. Obviously, I watched way too much James Bond as a child, and frankly would be terrified to rely on my wit alone to help me in out of anything.

All through my formative years, I really had some extravagant dreams. I had new ideas popping into my head by the minute, and every time I decided that one seemed worthy of pursuit, I would declare my self to have "officially decided" on the matter.

Then I grew up. Sort of.

I still day dream, but I've realized that my day dreams are a lot less glamorous than when I was a kid. For example, when we lived with the Abdos last summer I fell in love with their front loading washing machine. Not sure why, but man, that thing was awesome. When we moved into our house I literally would day dream while I did laundry about owning a front loading washing machine (see, not so glamorous). At any rate, we just bought a new washer and dryer from J Box. He needed to get rid of the ones he couldn't put in his new place and we needed a replacement for ours. And the best part is, the washer is a front loader. ;)

Oh, imagine my excitement! And while a front loading washing machine isn't nearly as exciting as say, hiking through Yellowstone (again, another childhood day dream), it still is a dream come true.

The package deal

An email between my friend, Jen H. and I made me think about package deals in marriage and family.

Before I got married I would Google different sites for way sweet travel deals. I would see some ticket to Europe for $400 and think "Wow, how sweet would that be? Go to Europe for 400 bucks!" Now I see that and I double it. Going to Europe for $800 isn't as sweet sounding of a deal as $400. Not that I have room to complain. I've traveled more since I've been with Jonathan than I ever did single. But still, when you double everything it sorta knocks out the whole "sweet deal" that you find.

Then I thought how hard it is to visit our family and friends outside of Iowa (because of the whole doubling thing), and realized we should be advertising ourselves as a package deal. Listed below are just of few options that you, my beloved out-of-state friends and family could purchase.

"The Windham Duo" (available for a limited time!) - for the low price of gas money, a spare spot of floor, some blankets and a chew toy, you could purchase Jonathan, Jack and myself for a weekend (or week!) of pure Windham madness.

"The Windham Package" (coming late November) - for the low, low price of 3 plane tickets, an entire room for all our stuff, and patience to deal with two sleep deprived adult, you could purchase a week with one incredibly cute girl.

"The Windham Clan" - for those out there willing to splurge on a little something more, you will get the "package" plus Jack, for an extra fee of doggy treats and a big back yard.

We are now standing by for orders.

Whoa! Jonathan and I made it in the paper!

So, our lives aren't really boring.

Last week Jonathan and I were interviewed by this girl, Kate, from the Press Citizen concerning the cost of having a child (hospital stay, buying items, etc). Here's the link to the site: Parents prep for birth.

There was only one disappointing part of the article. We spent the majority of the time expressing to Kate our beliefs on God, who He is in our lives and how that effects how we will raise our kids. Yeah, that didn't get written. But I had a feeling it wouldn't. When Jonathan and I walked away from the interview all we could do was pray that at least Kate understood what we said, even if it never went to print.

It's a little strange to read about ourselves through the eyes of someone else. We explained to Kate about some hardships we faced over Christmas, and while I know my heart and what God has done for me through that time, it's awkward to see it written and to wonder how others will take it. When something effects you deeply, it seems a little trite to sum it up in less than a paragraph. Maybe the section should have said "...she worried that maybe it wasn't God's plan for her to have children. But that doesn't make God any less worthy of her praise."

Part of me wants to help explain the situation, to explain that God is a good and faithful God, and that while I doubted where I thought my life was going, I never doubted Him. But alas, that can't be expressed.

And so I will need to rest in knowing that we shared our faith with Kate, even if it was Kate alone. And we either planted a seed or watered one. From here only God can make it grow.

Anniversary Extravaganza 2007!

I have made it almost a month without a single post. Nothing that exciting (or exciting enough to write on a blog) seems to be happening right now. But never fear, I'm sure my life will be filled with enough sleepless nights and poopfilled drama to keep you all entertained come winter.

This last weekend, Jonathan and I celebrated Anniversary Extravaganza 2007! I had Monday and Tuesday off, because we were planning a trip out of town that fell through. So we took Sunday and my two vacation days to spend together. I've come to the conclusion that I enjoy having vacation at home much more than going some place. We were never rushed, and really the only concern we had was how long to stay at the pool before we went out to dinner.

Well, to give a play by play synopsis of our AE '07, here goes:

Sunday: Jonathan got this book "Oddball Iowa" from Chris Biang a few months back. We've never really looked through it, but gave it a whirl. We drove to Dyersville to visit the Field of Dreams. Luck for us, the last Sunday of every summer month the "Ghost Players" come out of the field and have a little show. We made it just in time to see some really old men (some have been doing this since the movie came out in 1989) pop out of the corn. It was fun, and something completely different from what I imagined. For some reason, I really thought they'd be like baseball players, but they just had some beer guts and threw the ball to little kids. All the same, we agreed with when Baby Dubya is older, we'll have to take her.

Afterwards, we drove to Dubuque and took Jack to PetSmart. Then took a scenic drive down the Mississippi before heading home.

Monday: We got up kinda late and headed over to the Mall for Chick-Fil-A's breakfast chicken biscuit (yummy!), and cruised around the mall for a few hours. Of course, we found ourselves (like always) at Barnes and Noble. Around noon we went to see The Simpsons. Oh man, this was a funny, funny movie. However, if you go see it, keep in mind that it's a movie and doesn't have the same censorship as T.V. All the same, it was pretty entertaining. Then off to home we went, for a nice long nap (for me!) while Jonathan put up the mini blinds in our dining area. When I woke up, I was way excited to see the blinds (as this has been something I've wanted done for a long, long time!), and I was floored to see that my wonderful hubby bought be 24 red roses (1 rose for every month we've been married). :) Man, they are simply gorgeous.

We spent the late afternoon at the Coralville pool (note to self: pool, bathing suit and large crowds does nothing for yourself esteem when you're pregnant). Jonathan feel in love with the big slides, and I was rather dissapointed that I couldn't go down them. One of the best parts of pools is when they have water slides. :( But oh well, maybe next summer.

Tuesday: We built some shelves in the garage, went downtown for some personal time with God, then watched a movie while we ate dinner. Last night we did a major overhaul in our garden.

**Random side note: Does anyone else have massively overgrown tomatoes?! Seriously, our tomato plants have vines that are 6+ feet long. I'm not even kidding. We had to cut them out of their fencing, buy some trelice and cut off a ton of vines. They have gotten so long they are taking over. I know it's good and all, but man, the plants are dying because they're too heavy. We ended up throwing away a lot of fruit because they were rotting. Bummer. But all I think we'll still get a good group before the the end of the season.

**Random side note #2: Wilson's Orchard opens today. In fact, I even had a dream about it last night. It was a weird dream, so I'll spare you the details, but still, I'm way happy for some pick your own apples. Jonathan and I might try to go this weekend to get some apples for dessert on Monday.

Well, hopefully something really fun and blog worthy will happen this month so I can actually have something fun to write about.

Seriously embrassing

But so funny!

I just had to post some old school pictures of the wild Sarah Atwood, turned Sarah Windham. And it makes me wondering if Daughter Windham stands any chance of being "normal" with a mom like me and a dad like Jonathan.

And the ultrasound shows....

we're having a girl!!

Oh, wow! Oh, wow! Oh, wow! I can't begin to say how thrilled I am to being having a daughter. :)

God is so amazing, and I can't even begin to describe the experience of seeing my baby's picture. To see her arms, legs, feet, hands and even her heart! Whoa! So cool. It just reaffirms how great our Creator is, and how He literally knits us in our mother's womb. I know that my daughter is going to be beautiful, and while she is a make up of our DNA, I know that she isn't made in our image, but the image of her Heavenly Father who loved her before even I was born.

We have pictures from the ultrasound, and I promise I will post them, we just have to scan them first. And just to prepare you, she is a beautiful baby... and she has some of the cutest feet ever. ;)

I Would Die For That

This song is so emotional, just to warn you.

Update before the "Update"

Alrighty, now is crunch time.

Is Baby Dubya gonna be a...
	Boy
	Girl
Free polls from Pollhost.com

After you vote, be sure to add your name to the comments so that I know who voted for which one. Good luck! :)

They tell you this happens

Ever seen a picture of a really old couple, and they suspiciously resemble a brother and sister rather than a man and his wife?

Or when you see a dog, whose owner oddly enough looks very much like them? Which can be terrifying when the dog is say a chihuahua or shi-tzu.

People say that with time you come to look like your spouse, or even pet. Well, ever since Jonathan and I got married I've been of the school of thought that we will never really resemble one another. Let's face it, Jonathan has a natural tan that last year round. I look like I just took a bath in flour, my skin is so white. But one thing that I have noticed is that while we may never look alike, we will by all means act much too alike.

Until I met Jonathan I was not one for televised sports. Sure, I watched the Superbowl, but only because I lived at home with two sports fanatics for parents. And yes, there were the soccer games I watched in high school, but truthfully it is so much more fun to play then to watch, so shortly after my soccer career ended so too did my interest in seeing the games on tv.

Then along came the Spurs. When I moved to San Antonio I thought spurs where those things cowboys wore to make the horses hate them. As it turns out, Spurs are actually a NBA team. Wow. I had no idea. And so I spent my first 3 years in Texas totally oblivious to the ends and outs of Spurdom.

And then in late spring (or for Texas middle of summer) 2003 the Spurs won the Championship. For weeks prior to their win I found myself glued to the television with baited breath crossing every movable body part hoping beyond hope that the Spurs beat this team or that team to finally receive a nice little gold cup with a basketball on top and some cool looking rings. Now I admit, I didn't act this way because I just loved the Spurs. I did it because I loved Jonathan. With each advance Jonathan became more and more excited. He acted as though he himself was on the team. And I being the good girlfriend drilled him with question after question in an attempt to familiarize myself with the players, their stats and where they fell on his I-like-them-this-much meter. By the end of the finals I could rattle off facts about each player and give you a run down of why their competitors didn't stand a chance.

Once 2005 rolled around and the Spurs were looking like champions once again, I could have cared less. You see, NBA finals fall into a very dangerous time, wedding time. So when the Spurs were sucking my fiance away from me during crucial wedding plan season, I was less than thrilled. Again I hoped beyond all hope that they would win. Not because I wanted them to win, or even because it made Jonathan happy. It all boiled down to not wanting a mopey fiance a month before my wedding. We needed to be perky and happy, and if we were to pull off a wedding in San Antonio, well it seemed that if the Spurs lost Jonathan wouldn't be the only mopey person I was going to encounter.

Fast forward to 2007. The Spurs have yet again, for the 4th time in 7 years, made it to the last final game. Tonight could well be their championship night. Over the last few months I have been keeping track of who they're playing, who they've beat and who has beaten them. And now, with no true distractions around, I've found myself becoming a die hard Spurs fan. I can still rattle off some stats, but not from asking Jonathan questions after question, but from actually doing the research myself. I really want them to win. Not because I want it for Jonathan, but because, for once, I really want my team to win.

Alicia M got me thinking....

I'm gonna have a contest. A baby gender guessing contest. Jonathan and I will hopefully find out ourselves at the end of this month, but we're not sure yet if we will share it with the world. So you can start placing your bets now and maybe through November (if we keep it a secret that long!). Although, Jonathan did say that Leah will figure it out without anyone telling her because (and I quote) "she's just good like that". Hahaha!

So far we have:

1. Leah - girl
2. Matt - boy
3. Alicia - boy
4. The baby's daddy - boy
5. Stranger at a garage sale - boy

(Looks like you're getting out numbered Leah!!)

Let me know your guesses (if you dare go on record) and I'll post them later.

Well, if the doctor says it's okay....

We went back to the doctor last week to check up on Baby Dubya. All seems to be going smoothly and by the end of this month we should know if the Windhams are expecting a boy or girl.

While we were at our visit, the doctor said that I should aim to gain about 5 pounds before my next visit. I'm thinking this might not be a problem at all. So far I can't go 2 hours without eating. I feel like I am starving all the time. Last night I tried to have a large (for me) dinner as a means to not have my late night snack fest. It didn't help. On top of the heapful of portions I had at church, by the time I got home I was a ravenous beast. I suppose I am making up for not eating through out April and the first part of May. Today I packed a large lunch, but am looking at the dwindling items left and wondering if I'm going to make it another 3+ hours off of two granola bars and an apple. Not looking good....

And for those of you who might be wondering, I'm not consuming thousands of more calories, I promise. I'm eating more, but keeping in mind to eat lots of good-for-you foods rather than junk. Although, cheetos sound really good right now.

This weekend I went with Leah and Cindy to the Solon city wide garage sale. Now, I am not usually one for garage sales, but man I loved this one! Of course, I wouldn't have walked away with such good deals had Leah and Cindy not been there to help out. But I am proud to say that I made out like a bandit. Baby Dubya's dresser is getting full. Oh, and the best prize of the day was my new Boppy. Ah, yes, it's the little things in life that make us so happy.

The ever elusive S-L-E-E-P

In the world of baby incubating, I like food again. This is a major plus. And my fondness for pickles seems to be at an all time high, with me eating about 2-3 pickles a day. I best slow down before the baby turns green. Although, when I was ten I spent the whole summer eating pickles and bologna sandwiches. My dad promised me I would turn into a pickle if I didn't watch out... it never happened. So hopefully Baby Dubya is in the clear.

Also, in the world of baby incubating, I wish I could sleep forever. I realize that I am producing another human being, but shesh, I didn't realize it would make me so tired. Of course it doesn't help that I have yet to make it to bed before 11 in the last two weeks, but still. I've perfected my napping over the lunch hour and spent last weekend sleeping more than being awake. And when I say that I am looking forward to a 3-day weekend, it's not because I have some fabulous plans that will rock the world, but because I have one more day to take a 2 hour nap. Hmmm, that sounds so good right about now...

In other random Windham news, Jack has an eye infection. The poor puppy's right eye is swollen and draining some nastiness. Our vet gave him some drops and says it should clear up soon. The weirdest part of it all, Jonathan and I both are having problems with our right eyes. Maybe it's sympathy pains, or maybe some aliens came in the night and infected each of us, but either way we're all walking around with one eye closed. Bummer.

Hello Yuppieville!

We did it. We got the van.

This one is for Dave (a.k.a. Update on the Iowans; a.k.a. Yuppie Mobile)

My husband loves Craigslist. I've come to see it as a conquest for him. How much can I get for how little? At first it was a mild interest (he first came across it several years back), but now that IC has their own site, our home has become a full blown Craigslist endorsement. Yesterday we filled our garage with some man's apartment belongs, along with another person's houseplants and patio furniture.

The extremely orderly person in me is freaking out. The idea of walking into my garage to find things randomly placed has the potential to give me a bad case of the hives. Not to mention the idea of the dirt that has been brought into the house from other people (ok, ok, I'm not that bad... but I can be). But, for Mother's Day my mom gave me this bracelet that says 'Live, Love, Laugh', so I am taking that as my motto as my house becomes something of a collectors museum.

Now, in all fairness, Jonathan has really made out like a bandit. He has found some pretty sweet deals (patio furniture in perfect shape: $10; the entire contents of someones apartment: $50). Even last night Jonathan was talking to Jeff about making a job out of selling stuff on Craigslist. You just need to find items on the cheap, and resale them. It seems plausible, given the fact that we have several items now that could easily be resold for twice what we paid.

And speaking of Jeff... This is totally premature, and I must warn you all that this new endeavor is as planned out (at least in my mind) as my kid's weddings and so I am merely talking rather than give any hard fact or truth...

It turns out my husband wants a van. Jeff has this van at Budget that Jonathan really likes. Pat had said something to him about it last week, but Jonathan never went to see it until yesterday. In my mind this is how I imagine the meeting scene between Jonathan and the van.

[Jonathan gets the keys from Jeff, thinking "Hm, could I really drive a minivan?" before opening the doors to only reveal leather seats - Jonathan's passion - and cargo space that can substitute for his dream truck for several more years. Then as he leaves the parking lot to pick me up, he says "Now, van, how are we to convince the van hating Sarah that you are indeed the road worthy vehicle of our dreams?"]

Also, part of me thinks that there was the slow motion run towards one another...but I could be wrong.

So, anyways, Jonathan really likes this van. Last night he raddled off all the pros to us getting it while I cringed at the thought of being a soccer mom. *Disclaimer: There is nothing wrong with being or wanting to be a soccer mom, just not really what I would ever want myself to be labeled.*

Sure vans are cool. You know, the ones with shag carpet that have driven across the country carrying it's passengers to some protest. Or even the ones that have crammed in one too many people for a glorious camping trip. But this van, this van just says "Hello yuppie world, my name is Sarah, I am white and middle class." Now of course if we do end up getting the van I will eat my words, because that is what happens.

Example: While my mom was here last weekend, we were talking about dream cars. My two dream cars are a mini cooper and a Volvo station wagon (old school style of course). My mom mentioned something about vans and their usefulness with families. And I believe my direct quote was "Um, no. I will never get a van. Vans are for yuppies." Mom then proceeded to inform me that Jesse and Shelly never wanted a van, but once they got theirs they loved it. However that is not convincing to me. I have tattoos and body piercings. My brother does not. Point in case. Jesse = yuppie; Sarah = far from yuppie.

So, already within a week it appears that I may just eat my words. But I have made it very clear that if the Windhams do become the proud owner of a minivan I have the right to blaster it with non-yuppie bumper stickers.

Heart pounding, head swimming...

I just told my boss I'm pregnant.

Before the meeting my heart was pounding so much that it felt as though it would jump out of my chest.

But it's done. And he said he was expecting it. I figured as much.

I did feel pretty bad when he asked me when I'd be back after the baby and I told him I wouldn't be.

Puppy, baby and Cinco de Mayo, part 2

Jack is housebroken! Well, almost. He hasn't had any accidents in several days, and the ones that he has had were our fault because we weren't paying attention to how long he has gone between breaks. In fact, on Sunday morning, he woke me up at 6:30 by jumping up on the bed and whining. I took that as the "I need to pee" sign, grabbed him and took him outside. So, he's gotten down the idea that if he whines he gets to go "do his business". And that my friends is a huge step in puppy world. Needless to say, Jonathan and I are quite excited. Now, if only Baby Dubya is as easy to housebreak...

So far my morning sickness hasn't been as bad as it could (some stories of my friends' experiences terrify me...). I've had nausea, but nothing too extreme, and have only thrown up a few times. However, this morning proved to be a dosey. I woke up feeling not so good, but thought "I can push through this". About half way through the morning my toilet and I had become very close friends. At some point I thought "Sarah, if for no reason other than this, thank you for being such a neat freak and making sure your toilet is always spotless". After what seemed like way too long for my liking, I gathered up my battered self, emailed my boss and went back to bed. I woke up a bit more refreshed, but unfortunately, it hasn't lasted, and now I get to sit at my desk choking down crackers praying my boss doesn't ask too many questions before I can tell him the big news next week.

However, that story shouldn't overshadow the real story. Our Cinco de Mayo party rocked. I maybe biased, but I had a really good time on Saturday. The weather was beautiful and there was a really good turn out of people. We had a pinata, which turned out to be more for looks and less for hitting, as it was made out of cardboard and not paper mache. But it was fun all the same, and I think people really enjoyed themselves (at least I hope... and if you didn't please don't let me know). I think we might just have to make it a tradition. Plus, what made it really awesome, was the fact that Jonathan made homemade tortillas. Yummy. And our neighbor brought guacamole dip, which was fabulous. Yummy again! So, mark your calendars for this time next year and come prepared for the best party of the year. :)

They ain't so young any more

My brother, John, turns 14 today. He is the last of the clan. It seems so strange that he has reached full out teenagehood. Mostly because he is forever stuck at the age of 7 in my mind (as that was how old he was when I moved out). But alas, he is nearing the 18 mark. Which means he is closer to getting married than he is to birth.

I love my younger brothers. I don't get to spend near the time with them that I want, but they really are great. They are humorous, smart and quick witted. I don't feel really close to them, and that makes me sad. It, I think, in part has a lot to do with distance more than anything. It's hard to have a close relationship with someone that you see once a year. I really want that to change this year.

My family is coming to visit next weekend, and then we have our annual visit to Tennessee in September. And I'm sure they will be back here in November/December for the baby. I like that. I like knowing that I will see my family more than a weekend a year. That I will be able to really be apart of what they are doing, and they with me. It makes me happy.

So, here's to you John Clark (or should I call you Hunka Munka?). Happy Birthday brother. I love you.

Puppy, baby and Cinco de Mayo

Jack is finally crate trained! Well, for the most part at least. He's not barking all night and will actually let us sleep for 2 hours at a time, before he needs to be let out for a potty break. This is a major improvement from last week. Plus, he starting to go into his crate for naps on his own through out the day, and that is a really good sign.

He has been perfecting what I like to call "Jack Attack" on Madeline lately. She is less than pleased. Maddy will be strolling around the house and out of no where Jack comes barrelling after her. I think he has her confused with one of his siblings. After all, she is his size and color. But to his disappointment, she doesn't seem to want to play all that much, she just likes swatting him on the head. Which oddly enough makes he want to play with her more. Go figure.

On Sunday we announced our baby news at house church. It was kinda funny to see some people taken completely off guard, while others were like "We've know that for months!" It has been a wonderful (even though sick) last ten/eleven weeks. One thing that I didn't count on though were emotions. Maybe it's just me, or maybe it's most pregnant women, but I am so emotional. And over things that normally wouldn't make me cry. Here are two really funny examples:

1. On Thursday Jonathan and I watched the movie Deja Vu. The opening scene is all these navy men with their families getting on a boat. Anyways, you just know something bad is gonna happen, and I just start bawling. I told Jonathan "I can't watch this, please can we just stop the video?" He just looked at me and was like, um, nothing's even happened, these people are just getting on the boat. After about five minutes I was okay and watched the rest of the movie.

2. This weekend I was reading my latest Southern Living magazine, and came across this Cook for the Cure ad for breast cancer. All it was, was a pink apron that said "Who do you cook for?" and I just melted. Tears were swelling in my eyes and I was like "Oh goodness, that is the saddest thing I have ever read." Poor Jonathan walks through the door at this point and probably thought, I'll just come back later.

There have been plenty more, with me just seeing something and turning into a big cry baby. It's quite interesting to say the least.

So, I am coming up on 2 1/2 years of living in Iowa. And this weekend is Cinco de Mayo. Now, I've never celebrated Cinco de Mayo in Iowa, because if my memory serves me right, I've always gone back to Texas for some reason or another during that time. Well, it looks like May 5th will be spent in Iowa, which is very, very far away from Mexico.

I'll be honest and say that even while in Texas, I never went all out for Cinco de Mayo. I maybe just went to a good Mexican place (hmmm... Trudy's), had some Mexican beer and listen to Tejano music. But for some reason this year I want to go all out. I'm talking pinata, sombreros, Tejano music blasting and lots of dancing. Maybe I'll through on a poncho for some added flare. Of course, I doubt that will happen, but it would be fun. One thing is for sure, I most definitely want some Mexican food that night. Maybe Jonathan (or should I call him Juan?) will cook me up some yummy, yummy carne guisada and Spanish rice with spicy salsa and chips.

**If you're in town and we do make some good Mexican food, make your way over to our place for sure!***

And ye shall name him Jack

We've finally named the puppy. He really looks like a Jack, or as much as a dog can I suppose.

Puppy Windham

Still no name. Hopefully he'll be called something other than "puppy" tonight.

It's official

It's official, I survived my trip. About half way through the week I thought "Hmm, traveling with three guys is a lot harder than it seems." Not that I didn't love hanging out with Jonathan, Matt and Michiel, but a little more estrogen would have be nice! But even without an extra girl, the trip really was awesome. We went to a Yankees game in NY and ate a Philly cheese steak in Philadelphia (which was so yummy, but not too good for the stomach!). D.C. was just the way I remember, overwhelming. For an area that is relatively small there is so much packed into it. We went to three different musuems and saw all of the monuments we could. Matt and I visited the Holocaust Memorial Museum. Very appropriately the weather that day was very sad and dreary. This was the second time I went there, and I must say that the second time was more heavy then the first. Perhaps it's because of all the classes I took in college, but I think I cried the whole time I was there.

It's official, we got a puppy. We drove up to Calmar last night with Joshua Abdo and picked up our puppies. The Abdos named there little guy, Copper. Jonathan and I haven't fully agreed on a name just yet, so I will wait to announce it later. Once we have all the pictures uploaded I will put them up. It was interested, because it was a really bitter sweet time last night. There was the part of me that was so excited to be getting a puppy and then there was the part of me that still misses Judah. Judah will never, ever be replaced, and he will go down in history as one of the single greatest dogs ever (and the best I have personally ever known). But last night, when we were visiting with all the puppies, I knew this is what he would have wanted. Sure, he would be so jealous if he were still around, but I know he would be happy to know we're happy.

And now, the part that most every one has been holding their breath for...

It's official, Jonathan and I are pregnant! I am about ten weeks along. We went to our doctor's yesterday morning and everything appears to be going well, and Baby Windham seems healthy. We were able to hear Baby W's heartbeat. That, I think, was the coolest thing I have ever experienced. There is something about the swish-swish noise that makes my heart fill with joy. God has really allowed Jonathan and I to experience some amazing mountain tops in the last month, and it continues to point to His worthiness of all the glory. I am humbled by God's desire to bless us, and grateful for the times that He has carried me through some very low valleys so that I can more fully understand His wonder and grace.

Southern Living

I was born and raised in the South. I hold several love/hate feelings about my experiences there, but am slowly growing to love it more than hate it. However, part of me wonders if I haven't just come to idealize what I want the South to be. A place where people sit on their front porches drinking iced tea, listening to good music, watching the kids play baseball all day and saying hi to everyone that passes.

But the South I really know is scarred. We have a past that has not, and I fear, will not, leave. One of prejudice. One of hate. One of division. I can remember seeing the signs of racism from an early age. Seeing "KKK" emblazened in a neighbors yard. Or having the confederate flag hanging in someone's truck. I, in all honesty, could not tell you one person I knew who didn't "look like me" until I was started working in high school. Granted, it's not because I didn't want to have a variety of friends, it's just that where I lived and where I went to school, there was no variety.

I took a civil rights course in college that made me ashamed of what took place in my land. It made my heart break to think that my ancestors, as I'm sure they did, judged others based on the color of their skin. I came across this article today. While I want to believe that the images captured are skewed, deep down I know they aren't. I know that Greenbrier, TN still has a divide, even if it is "invisible".

It makes me sad. Just when I begin to think of the South as a beautiful and pure land, I am reminded of not only it's past, but it's present and likely future.

Eat mor chikin

I love Iowa. I have been here just over two years now, and would rate Iowa City as my second favorite place I have ever lived. And for those of you who know my love of Texas, that's saying a lot. However, there are a few things that I just can't get adjusted to. Like, having people get upset when I say ma'am/sir. Or not understanding me when I say I want a coke (ok, ok, I'll give that one to you Iowans, "coke" can be confusing). Or looking at me funny when I say I'm having meat and two for lunch. But what pains me the most is not having good ol' fashioned southern food. Sure, I cried myself to sleep when I realized that Hy-vee wasn't HEB. And then again when I realized I would have to drive for an entire day, literally, to eat at the best taco shack known to man. But about two months ago, a glimmer of silver lining came streaking into my world.

Chicken like you have never tasted is coming to Coral Ridge Mall. Chik-fil-A happens to be one of my all time favorite places to eat. I would pass up a steak dinner, homemade pie and tea just for a bite of Chick-fil-A. Yes, yes, that seems quite extreme, but oh man, is it worth every warm and buttery bite.

And the best part of all: the creater/owner is a Christian. Truett Cathy is a hardcore Baptist who believes his store exists "to glorify God by being a faithful steward of all that is entrusted to us and to have a positive influence on all who come in contact with Chick-fil-A". Yep, that's pretty sweet stuff right there. Also, as a means to further my love of this chicken place, they are closed on Sundays to allow their employees "an opportunity to worship, spend time with family and friends or just plain rest from the work week".

The store opens up at the Mall on April 19th. I regret to say that Jonathan and I won't be here for the grand opening. Although we did consider coming back two days early from our trip just to be the first in line.

Yep, I love me some chikin.

It's in the peanut butter

I'm a snob, I admit it.

Over the last few months I have morphed into a food snob. I've exchanged all my regular flour for non-bleached, non-processed flour. I scrutinize the sugar, meat, eggs, and most importantly, peanut butter.

Last summer, I started thinking more about partially hydrogenated soybean oil. It turns up in everything. It's not the best thing we could be putting in our bodies, so I've started making the slow process of de-hydrogenating my foods. Peanut butter was the first to change.

I love peanut butter. I could seriously have it on anything (crackers, celery, chocolate, bread, apples, oranges, ice cream, chicken, etc), or just eat it by itself. So last year I bought my first jar of organic peanut butter (which is just peanuts and salt). Can I just tell you, I was in heaven. Sure, it's not quite as smooth as Jiffy, but man it is thick and good. It makes eating my pb&j sandwiches the highlight of my afternoon. The one teeny-tiny draw back is that it is so darn expensive.

Earlier this week, as I was making my sandwich for lunch, I thought "Oh, man, we're running low on peanut butter. I really wish it wasn't so expensive so I didn't feel guilty about buying it". *Note: Jonathan and I are taking a Dave Ramsey course at church, so my mind it on 'good deal' over load. $4 for peanut butter = not a good deal! So, as I'm laminating the idea of ever having to give up my beloved au'natural peanut butter, I said a prayer that went something like "God, You know I really like my peanut butter, lots. But it is so expensive! Lord, please provide me with the means to continue eating my peanut butter."

Last night my life group joined up with Amanda's to watch a movie. As we were all getting settled, Leah asked me to come into the the kitchen. When I got in there, she handed me my first birthday present of the year (I'm coming up on my golden birthday on the 25th, for those of you who might not know). I opened it up and lo and behold, it was organic peanut butter!!! Apparently, Leah had picked up the jar for me at Tate's some time back with the intent to give it to me for my birthday! How awesome is that??

So, there you have it, the Lord really does take notice of the little things in our lives. Even the peanut butter.

Baby NOT on board

I came across this book by Jennifer Shawne about a year ago. I flipped through it and it proved good for a few laughs. I think what I found most humorous was the "nicknames" she gives to children, such as yard ape and poop factory. While I do want to have children at some point in my life, I still thought it could be fun to list out some of the great reasons for still being child-free. (Disclaimer: For all you parents, this isn't meant to poke fun at you or your delightful children, just a reason to remind myself why it's pretty awesome to not have kids, just yet).

10. My car windows are sticker free.

9. My house stays clean. And if it doesn't, it's only my own fault.

8. It only takes me 15 seconds or less to get into my car.

7. I can sleep all night long.

6. When I'm around my friends, they ask about me.

5. If I bake a batch of cookies, I don't have to share them with anyone. :)

4. I can stay out super late and never worry about putting anyone, other than myself, to bed.

3. I can go on trips with my husband and not miss a soul.

2. I can safely go down my stairs.

1. I can honestly say I have never been thrown up on, burped on, pooped on, peed on, and for that reason, I generally smelly pretty good and my clothes stay cleaner.

Things that make you go "Huh?"

I've been listening to the radio (via the internet) at work for the past few weeks. I have tapped into a christian station located in Seattle, that plays a really good variety of songs. Anyways, the other day I heard an ad for match.com. I didn't think anything of it, at first. Then a few hours later there was another ad (I'm assuming from a local church in Seattle) saying how the world has really focused too much on casual dating and that sites such as match.com go against God's desire for His children to trust Him with their future mate. Huh? Didn't this station just play a match.com ad? And now you're telling people it's not good? I think what has me even more confused is that I continue to hear these same two ads day after day.

Is it just me, or is this sending a mixed message? You should trust God for these things, but if you really want to, you can go to this one site. You should trust God with your life, but if you're not going to, you should at least use this one product.

And something even more interesting: Match.com's theme is "It's okay to look". Is it now really? I'm pretty sure Jesus would disagree (Matthew 5:28).

They also have ads about credit cards, buying homes that are too expensive for little or no down or debt consolidation (everything anti-Dave Ramsey) followed by ads for handling your money properly and in a way to glorify God.

I'm just really disappointed by this station. It offers so many good things (songs, verses, testimonies, etc) but then it continually does these handful of ads. I'm sure it boils down money, but is it worth it? Is it worth contradicting what God says so that a radio station can reach more people? I don't really think so.

When in Liechtenstein

I read this really funny story on MSN today.

I can just picture what this might have looked like from the bystander's point of view: In walks a large group of soldiers, decked out in fatigues holding deadly weapons, into a country so small it doesn't have it's own army. Then as the soldiers look around they start wondering, why is everything here not in Swiss? Did you see a sign pointing us this way? Did we just invade another country? They shrug their shoulders and head back the way they came.

I tell ya, it's straight out of Monty Python.

What do you do...

When all your power goes out?

This weekend proved to be a lazy time, as my trip to Chicago was abandoned due to the threat of an ice storm. Lindsy, Amanda and I decided we should still leave work early and hang out all the same. We went to a movie (Night at the Museum - pretty funny), and then drove an hour to Mount Pleasant to eat at a restaurant that turned out to be in Mount Vernon (only 20 minutes from IC). All the same it was fun, and we found a yummy Mexican food place in MP.

Saturday brought on more movies and a nice long nap. When Jonathan and I woke up, we realized we had no electricity and the ice was now 1/4" - 1/2" thick outside. No problemo, we'll just go to the mall. Or not... As we walked down the stairs to the garage, we realized, uh, garage doors need electricity, don't they? But would that really stop Jonathan? No. By candle light, he managed to unscrew the right screws and the door was open. Off to the mall we go! Or not... Turns out the mall thought weather bad enough to shut down the city was bad enough to shut down the mall. Dang it. But at least Best Buy was open, and that made Jonathan quite happy.

As we sat watching the weather on the nice TVs we called everyone we knew in search on electricity. Lucky for us, the Bovenmyers we up and going, so we went to their place for the evening to watch a ridiculous movie (The Producers) and eat pizza and ice cream. Unlucky for us, we came home at 11 to find we still were without power. Oh well! At least our water is run on gas so we could be sure to have hot showers in the morning.

Sunday came more relaxing than Saturday. We didn't have church, so we slept in (which unlike in our college years, actually only means till 8 for me and 9 for Jonathan). Then Kara M. came over for lunch before Jonathan and I went to see the movie Amazing Grace with other Eastsiders. Amazing Grace (for those who don't know) is the story of William Wilberforce who lead the abolition of slavery in England. It was a really good movie, although there were some parts that I didn't quite believe (but that's just me...). All in all, I'd recommend it.

Finally last night, I began picking out pictures for our scrapbook. From the last year? No. From the wedding? No. Surely not from Europe? Yes, yes indeed. It has taken me over 2 years, but I am finally sorting through our Europe photos. And let me tell you, it is no easy task. I am so not looking forward to next year when I decide to finally put together the wedding album.

I'd say it was a really nice weekend. And I really wish they could all be so lazy. :)

Letting go of lies, holding on to truths

Lately I've been thinking about how the devil tries to divide and conquer God's people. What does that really look like? To me it seems like it would be very obvious, where you can see the breaking point and know what exactly changed course. But I'm beginning to realize that our enemy is much too sly and clever for such an open attack.

"Your enemy the devil prowls like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour." 1 Peter 5:8

Perhaps division comes from believing one small lie. Something that seems very plausible ('You shouldn't say anything because you don't want to receive undo attention') or even half true ('They don't fully understand what you're going through').

We begin to dwell on that lie, thinking that it's true, that our fellow sisters/brothers might not be fully for us, and it soon the lie becomes a "truth" we believe. Slowly we withdraw, we begin to doubt the faithfulness of friends, the sincerity of those nearest to us, and completely ignore the outer circle of sisters/brothers. Before we know it, we are isolated, making ourselves prime targets for direct blows from Satan.

"Keep falsehoods and lies far from me." Proverbs 30:8

We need to take action against this form of attack. Find Scripture that will expose the lie, and fill it's place with truth.

"For your love is ever before me, and I walk continually in your truth." Psalm 26:3

Perhaps my fellow believers might not fully understand my hardships, nor maybe I might not tell them everything, but they can still help me all the same.

"Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." Galatians 6:2

Happy Little People

In view of my life the last few weeks, I've decided that I need to write a blog purely about things that fill my life with joy. Enjoy!

1. Jonathan. Whether it be when he is trying to kick the ceilings, chasing Madeline around the house, laying on the couch watching movies, or making me the best Denver omelet this girl has ever had.

2. My friends. When they dress up in miss-matched clothes, send me postcards with verses, buy me Little Debbie cakes, email me random videos, or continually co-author a story about gophers.

3. My family. When they call just to say hi. Or to make fun of me.

4. My God. For giving me everything I will ever need. For sending His Son to be my Savior. For blessing my life more richly than I deserve.


Here's a little video that made me laugh. If you know me at all, you'll understand why I think ridulously silly things like this are funny....

Up hill in the snow BOTH ways

So it snowed. Which shouldn't be any surprise, seeing as I do live in Iowa. But it has actually been rather warm here lately, so we've all been wondering if we could make it through the whole winter snowless. Then last week it snowed buckets, and then again this weekend. And I must say, I'm loving it!

Yesterday morning Jonathan and I were on our way to the bus stop. We walk through the park, since that is the closest way, but it leads us up this huge hill. Hills in snow = really hard. Then, on our way home, we take a different route (different bus, different stop). As we were walking home, we realized we were going up hill. Ha! Up hill, in the snow, BOTH ways. And to make it even better I was in a skirt. Yes, yes, it was too good to be true. So now, I can tell my kids that I actually did have to go to work, in the snow, up hill both ways. So sock it!

And in some amazingly wonderful news..... I am.... drum roll please.... going to NEW YORK!! Hot dog! Our friend, Michel, from Holland, is coming to the States in April for work. We decided that we would meet up with him in D.C. and then travel to NYC for the majority of the week. We bought tickets today (which were an awesome deal) and will be leaving April 14th. I cannot even begin to say how much I adore New York. And the fact that I get to go back to D.C. is a sweet added bonus.

How, might you ask, are we getting from D.C. to NYC? Well, by the Chinatown to Chinatown bus of course. By now, Jonathan and I are old pros at this way of travel. Hopefully this time around we won't have such a loooong experience as last time.

P.S. Being a Windham rocks my socks. I love my husband and his travel going ways.

Parlez-vous le français?

Not yet, but hopefully by my 25th birthday I will!

I have decided to take a French class on Thursday nights for the next 8 weeks. I can't begin to tell you how excited I am about this new endeavor. I've always love French, and while I was in Paris I thought it would be so cool to learn. So, I'm doing it.

And in addition to my purely selfish motive of wanting to sound super cool, I've been praying that God would allow me to meet at least one girl/woman to build into while I'm taking the class. I'm looking forward to Him allowing me to use this time as outreach for others. Sharing the Gospel and learning French all in one night?! Can't beat that with a stick.

A Memorial: Judah Ben Windham

The past four weeks have dealt me some pretty low blows. And just this last week, the hardest one of all has hit.

My beloved and wonderful puppy, Judah, passed away. He meant more to me than I can ever explain. He was a faithful companion, dear friend and showed me what it meant to love someone other than myself. He will forever be missed, and never forgotten.

I wanted to use this blog as a tribute to some of my wonderful memories of Judah.

- The first day I saw Judah was August 28, 1995. My aunt had given him to me as a present. Now, the story of Judah is a wonderful, faith filled story. I had prayed for a dog for 6 months, with no answer in sight. And then one warm Sunday afternoon, my aunt came to visit. Unbeknown to me, she had gotten me my dog. When I ran out to the car, there Judah lay in the front seat, asleep. I grabbed him, and seriously didn’t let go for months!

- For the first 4 months of Judah’s life, I carried him everywhere! I’m really surprised he learned to walk/run so well, because I would never let him go! I loved just holding him and cuddling with him all day long.

- I use to take pictures of Judah while he would sit on my bed and I would lie on the floor. He would lean over the edge and all his fur would bunch up around his face, making him look like a lion (hence, why his full name is Lion of Judah). I have one of the cutest pictures in my guest bedroom with us doing this.

- Early on I found out that Judah LOVES the Beatles song Hey Jude. I sang it to him constantly. And every time I got to the part where Paul says “Judah, Judah, Judah, Judah” Judah would go crazy.

- We use to play “Hide and go seek”. When I was at home, I’d open the garage door, throw his ball or stick into the side yard, and then hide somewhere in the garage. He was so smart, because after he found me, he would always check that spot first on the next go round. We played hide and go seek for years. Our last game was on Tuesday, January 2, 2007. I hid in the closet. 

- Judah loved to swim. One time though, he got into some serious trouble when he went swimming in my parents’ neighbor’s pond. They had ducks. Judah wanted the ducks. The neighbors were not very happy about that one. We had to get into the pond to get Judah out!

- Another funny Judah story was when we took him swimming in the pond across from our new house. There were loads of ducks and he wanted to swim after them. We figured what was the harm the ducks would just swim away. However, there was one duck that didn’t. Judah kept swimming after this one lone duck, which lured Judah out into the middle of the pond. Just as Judah got close enough to grab him, the duck disappeared. Jonathan and I were looking at each other, then at Judah, and then at where the duck had been. Nothing. Poor Judah swam around for another five minutes completely dumbfounded.

- Last winter when it was really cold outside, we would take Judah to some elementary school playground in Coralville. Jonathan and I would sit in the car with the door open, throw the ball for Judah and then shut the door till he came back just so we could stay warm.

- Some of the silliest pictures of Judah are when he would play in the snow. One picture was taken after he dug through a huge snow pile. His whole face his covered in snow and you can tell that he had the time of his life.

- Judah loved his fuzzy bone. No doubt about it. That puppy took that dirty old stuffed bone everywhere! It was like his security blanket. It was the cutest thing ever.


Those are just a few memories/stories that I have from Judah. He was the sweetest dog that I have ever known and no dog will ever replace him.



I love you, Judah Ben.