Once upon a time...

... in a land far, far away, there lived a woman who was half crazy. One day she decided that in order to grow to know her Lord just a little bit better she would cut off all modern forms of communication (or just the internet). And so for 40 days she ignored the computer. Now, at the end of her sentence she has come to the conclusion that a) the world does go on without you, b) you can have a small child and read books, c) she is still crazy, but hopefully a little wiser.

It's been a while. At the beginning of April I had a serious heart check about my life/time and where I put my hope. I realized I was more concerned with who posted on my facebook wall and who did or didn't leave comments on my blog then I was about how much time I spent with God. I saw in myself a person who had become so wrapped up in herself I couldn't go more than a few hours without logging on. So, I cut the cords. I took a drastic (for me) measure and logged off for a while. And it's been good. I've learned a lot about myself, that I can start and complete a task, and that God gives us way more grace than we deserve.

Alrighty, I suppose I can do a quick update on all things Windham. Julia turns a whopping 6 months on this Friday! I just can't even grasp it. She's now been introduced to rice cereal and sweet peas. Sweet peas did not go over very well at first, but now she opens her mouth up super wide when she sees the spoon. Of course, half the food ends up running down her chin, but we're backing progress.

Speaking of other Julia-progressions, she is now sitting up. She started right before she turned 5 months old. She would sit up for about a minute doing what I call the 'gorilla stance' - where the babe uses their hands to hold themselves steady; it looks like a gorilla to me. But at the beginning of May she started sitting upright. She's doing really well, and tends to only fall over when she's sleepy or irritated. And luckily she hasn't hurt herself too bad... just once when she flung herself back on the wood floors in our kitchen.

We're starting house church at our house this weekend. I'm really excited. These means I will actually be able to stay for the duration of church now! We rearranged the down stairs to accommidate for a sitting room and I must say it looks pretty sweet. I might just start spending more time down here.

Jack got a shock collar. Sounds worse than it really is. He has just kinda gone crazy with barking and running off, so we bought a shock collar that he wears every time we let him outside. I've used it once. He hasn't really barked outside since. Apparently, it's pretty effective.

Well, that's about it in a nut shell. I'm sure there's more that I could write, but I'll save it for later.

Tag, I'm it

I got tagged! And I'll admit like Alicia M, I've always secretly wanted to be tagged. :) So here are 10 random things about myself.

1. I slept with a stuffed animal named Buttcatt until I got married. Wait. That was a lie. I slept with him after I got married too. Just not when Jonathan was at home.

2. I prefer to not take the first item off a shelf at the store, instead I will take the one behind it. Especially if the product comes in a box.

3. I love being outdoors. It makes me feel really close to God. So when it's nice out I will sit for hours outside on the porch, or just put up all the windows and enjoy the fresh air.

4. I've always wanted to be a spy. Windham. Sarah Windham. Sounds good, doesn't?

5. I don't like bananas if they have any brown spots on them. I realize that the peel can be brown and it doesn't mean the banana itself is, but still, I have to force myself to eat one once the peel is brown.

6. I've been proposed to twice. Both times while in Europe. The second time was with Jonathan. The first, just as memorable, was from a drunk old Hungarian on New Year's Eve in Rome. I was at a cafe with my family when this old man came in and started calling me "princippessa" and proposed. It was really funny.

7. I secretly day dream about being in the Southern Living magazine. Either because of my garden, home or cooking. Especially my cooking.

8. I learned to enjoy hot tea with sugar and milk when I was younger because I was fully convinced I would one day meet the British Royals and would need to take milk with my tea at Afternoon Tea.

9. I took fencing for an entire year in college. I even competed some. It was a lot of fun, and I wish I could still do it. Hmmm, maybe I should look into a local fence club here in town.

10. I slept in pillowcases when I was a little girl. My family has some ridiculous pictures of me sleep on the bed in a pillowcase. I don't even know why I did it. Maybe it was a make-shift sleeping bag??

Now I'm gonna tag Suzanne F, Emily, Lincoln, Kara and Shelly (you can do it on Facebook!).

Windham, Party of 4

We are adding one more member to our family.

And no, I'm not pregnant.

My brother, Fletcher, has moved in with us. He came up on Tuesday with my mom and Dave, and starts school this week. It's going to be a fun adventure, not just for Fletch, but for Jonathan and I as well. I'm looking forward to see what God has in plan for us all and really thrilled that Julia gets to be around her Uncle Fletch.

Now, in other news.... Julia is rolling over! She just rolls one way (when on her belly) and she's only done it a few times, but we're getting there. And when she's on her back, she rolls over on her side (especially at night). It's crazy, because it seems like it all just kinda happened over night. Before you know it, she'll be walking and talking.

Today is a day that will go down in history....

... I am back in my pre-baby jeans!

To swaddle or not to swaddle, that is the question

I'm sure most everyone who has gotten to see Julia either right before or after bedtime has seen her in her baby burrito (tightly wrapped blankets that turn any baby into a cute little burrito). For the last 3 months the baby burrito has been a true blessing. She sleeps so soundly and it helped a great deal when her tummy was hurting so much. However, the burrito is turning sour.

Julia, being too smart for her own good, has picked up on what our bedtime/naptime rituals are, and has taken to fighting us when we swaddle her. She'll arch her back, kick, cry, wiggle, anything just to keep from being swaddled. Only thing is, she can't sleep without it. Hmmm... I see a problem here. She has even started doing acrobats in her sleep and so she wakes up completely unswaddled after a few hours (and on the opposite side of the crib), thus going from a 6-7 hours a night sleeper, to 4-5 hours. It seems like every time I go into her room at night now her little left hand and arm are waving free. I secretly think she thinks it's a game: Let's see how long it takes me to get out of this one. She's a little Houdini.

Last week during nap time I would lay her down loosely swaddled or completely unswaddled as to wean her off. Yeah, that wasn't pleasant. She'd sleep for just a few minutes, startle herself, wake up, not fall back to sleep, cry, then be completely swaddled, just to sleep soundly for an hour, then wake herself up because she was able to free her left hand. Finally, by the end of the week I gave up and went back to a full swaddle.

Until today. This morning I vowed to try it all again, this time only doing it once a day (so as to not totally stress myself out - or her) and to leave her left arm free while doing a tight swaddle on her right arm and legs. Do you know what? That girl has been asleep for the last hour and a half. Seriously, she has not even made a peep. What is that?? See, here again proves my theory that she's playing games with us and that you can never, ever predict a baby. But I can see right through her cute little eyes and sweet little smile and I know, I know what's going on. She's going to spend the whole week being a perfect angel, sleeping one arm unswaddled, and then BHAM! she'll change it all up next week. I'm on to you Julia Mabel....

Alas, we'll see what happens. I'd really like to get her to a point that she can sleep with out being a burrito, especially as she gets bigger and longer. But part of me is a little sad, because she's a cutie in that burrito. That's for sure.

***Random hope/desire/prayer/dream/etc*** Dude, I really think Julia might be a lefty like me! I mean, she goes to town with her left hand like nobodies business. So, here's to having my daughter take after me in some way (seeing as she looks just like her daddy!).

This is an old picture, but you get the idea of the baby burrito in all its silly cuteness.

This is why I love Jonathan

This morning I told Jonathan we were running low on diapers, but that we were expecting to get some in the mail (present from my aunt) today. His response: "Well, sweetie, you just let me know if we need any. And I can pick some up, Raising Arizona style".

***Disclaimer*** There is some bad language in the following video.

Just when I figure it all out

Julia changes it up on me. And then changes it up again. What's with that?

Last week Julia got into this habit of only taking 30 minute naps. Well, truthfully, she was doing that before last week, but last week was a really rough week. In previous times she'd take a 30 minute nap, then sleep really well the next day or something. But not last week. Last week she was a big girl. Also, I should add that she decided that while she didn't want to nap, she also didn't want to sleep more than 3 hours a stretch at night. So we were up a lot. And she was cranky. A lot.

This week, well this week is completely different. As of this past weekend we've begun letting Julia "cry it out", since she's becoming really depended on us to put her to sleep (ex, we have to rock/bounce/swing her until she's asleep, and if all the planets are aligned just right, maybe, just maybe she won't wake up when we put her down). We're probably softies in this area (at least I know I am), and really don't let her cry alone for that long, especially if the cry is an upset cry and not a tired cry (which, yeah for me, I've finally learned what her different cries are... most of the time!). It's been challenging, but yesterday was a lot better, and she went to sleep fairly fast for her naps, and when the 30 minute mark came, I could quickly get her to fall back asleep.

Anyways, this past Sunday night, I put Julia to bed around 9:15. What to know what time she woke up? 4:15. 7 hours. Yes, 7 hours, that girl slept. Just to be followed the next night by waking up screaming, and then the next night with 7 1/2 hours. Not to mention that she's been taking at least 2 2-hour naps during the day.

I can't figure this girl out! I mean, she's more confusing then me, which Jonathan could tell you is an amazing feat! One day she'll be happy all day, no complaints, the next day she'll be crappy all day... hmmm, sounds like her mama. However, I do think that the reason for the newest sleep habit is because she's hit a growth spurt (at least that's what Google says). Seeing as last week she stepped up her feedings and now this week it seems all she does is eat and sleep with very little play time.

So, yeah, just when I get use to the constant feeding, the middle of the night waking, she decides she's sleepy. And when I get use to that, she's moved on to the next phase. And they say women are fickle. I say, if we're fickle, it's only because we learned it from our babies.

Pneumonia, shots and sounds from the diaper

Last week I took Julia to the doctor. She had gotten sick over the weekend and by Monday had a pretty bad cough. The doctor said she had bronchitis, sent us home with some medicines and said it should clear up soon. By Thursday we were back in the office, this time to hear that Julia had pneumonia. Is it just me, or is that a big illness for such a little girl? I have to say, it's pretty tough seeing your baby being sick. It's heart breaking, really. We spent the weekend in quarantine, and when I took her back yesterday, things seem to be on the up and up. They gave her her two month shots, which went surprisingly well.

Last night I made sort of a personal vow. A vow to lighten up and stop being so stinkin' proud. I'm a proud person, a stubborn person, and it can make for a really tough time of things. So, I need to really lighten up. Get off my high horse and realize that this world isn't perfect, I'm not perfect and I need to focus on the good things. With that being said, here are the "lighter" things about having a sick daughter.

1. The antibiotics Jules has been on cause gas. Let me tell you what, I have never, ever heard such loud noise come from such a small bottom. It sounds like several bombs going off. And then to see her face afterward.... priceless.

2. Did you know poop turns green when you take certain antibiotics? Well, it does. At least in an infant. Several times, to my surprise, Julia's diapers would come out green. A little shocking to say the least.

3. Is that a soldier I see? No, no, it's just Julia wear a gas mask. Actually, it was a nebulizer, but it reminded me of the gas masks from WWII. Now, if I can just teach her to army crawl.

4. One thing that makes me laugh more than anything else: When she's about to have a breakdown, she starts sticking out her bottom lip, makes this really mad/sad face and then lets it all go. I have to admit, it's pretty funny. It's almost as though she's throwing a tantrum, without the kicking... just the screaming.

They say it's your birthday!

Happy birthday Lincoln! I just want you to know how much I love you and how exciting it is to see you chasing after the Lord. You are an amazing brother and I am thrilled for you and what God has and is doing in your life.

You must have been a beautiful baby

Watch out Batman! She's coming back!

I cooked dinner two times this week!

And I don't mean just using the frozen meals we have, but actually cutting up meat and veggies and making something! Oh, and then I made cookies. From scratch!

Oh, oh, oh, and then, and then I brushed my teeth before bed (like I actually brushed my teeth for the first time of the day before 9 pm!).

But that's not all, I did laundry, vacuumed and took a shower this week! And what's even better, I remembered to put on deodorant!

Holy smokes, I'm on a roll! What next? Finding a cure for cancer? Saving the penguins from extinction? Joining the Peace Corps?

Man, I put Martha Stewart to shame.

Entitlement

I'm entitled to have good days aren't I? And when I have one good day, isn't the next day suppose to be just as good? It should never be worse, right? I have to be honest, this is something that I'm really struggling with and trying to wrap my mind around. When I have one really amazing day with Julia (she isn't very fussy, we get a lot done at the house, we can visit friends) I think I am entitled to ever day being that way. Like this week.

On Tuesday we had an amazing day. She napped when she was suppose to, we got to meet Jonathan for lunch, she wasn't very fussy and seemed to just be completely content all day. Wednesday was a whole different story. She cried if I held her, cried if I put her down, she barely napped and finally by the late afternoon I got her to fall asleep while I held her the whole time. Which means the house was a mess, I was a mess, dinner was the last thing from my mind. And I realize, Julia is my job. Not my house, or laundry, or dinner. But still. I should be able to do those things...

Well, on Wednesday night I spent some time with Shirley. I was talking to her about how I feel entitled to these things, and how I get pretty angry when I pray and God doesn't seem to respond to those prayers (ex: I'm exhausted and just want Julia to sleep. I pray and she only sleeps for 3 hours, or she wakes up 3-4 times). It seems like He would want me to rest, to feel good about the day ahead and not so run down and weak. Then Thursday morning Shirley sent me an email with these verses from 2 Corinthians 12:

"Three different times I begged the Lord to take it away. Each time he said, “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.” So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me. That’s why I take pleasure in my weaknesses, and in the insults, hardships, persecutions, and troubles that I suffer for Christ. For when I am weak, then I am strong."

Wow, that hit me like a ton of bricks. Since Julia's birth I have been working on my own strength, my own power and I'm exhausted. So yesterday I prayed "God, I need time with you, but you're going to need to make my schedule clear." And while it wasn't "clear" in the sense that I accepted, He did give me time when Julia was relaxing in her bouncy seat. And again this morning. Yet, I realize that I can't wait for God to give me loads of time, because it won't ever happen, but He will give me time and it's up to me to use it effectively.

I surrender

I'm giving you my heart, and all that is within
I lay it all down for the sake of you, my King
I'm giving you me dreams, I'm laying down my rights
I'm giving up my heart for the promise of new life

And I surrender all to you, all to you
And I surrender all to you, Lord, all to you

I'm singing you this song, I'm waiting at the cross
And all the world holds dear, I count it all as loss
The sake of knowing you the glory of your name
To know that lasting joy in sharing in your pain

This song has been on repeat in my head for the last day. For the past two days Julia has been really upset. She's been gassy and overly needy. We've had to hold her while she sleeps, otherwise she wakes up completely freaked out. Yesterday she woke up at 6 am and didn't go to bed until 9 pm, having only slept for 2 hours (not consecutively, mind you) during the day. She was so sleepy, you could tell by just looking at her. But her tummy hurt so bad she couldn't rest. Finally she gave way and fell asleep with us in bed. After her normal middle of the night feeding, she fell back asleep, just to wake up in pain at 4:30 this morning. I rocked her, bounced her and walked her for two hours till Jonathan took over so I could sleep. You can hear her poor little tummy rumbling and she is in some pain for sure. I didn't want to believe it, but Julia is colicky. I'm not sure why it's been so hard for me to come to terms with it, but it has been. But after yesterday I really can't deny it.

So in the midst of her crying and not sleeping yesterday, this song came to me. I surrender. I surrender my life and my dreams to Christ. This is too hard to do alone, and I can't keep holding on to my pride, so I'm surrendering. I'm giving up, I'm letting go. Christ can have it all.

Maybe, just maybe... Part III

Maybe, just maybe there are times when I want to give up.

I'm making a New Year's resolution to be honest about the trials I face. So many times I can look the other way and act like everything in my life is a-okay when really I feel like I am drowning.

Frankly, breastfeeding sucks. Both literally and figuratively. I've never had more pain or frustration at something that is suppose to be "natural". Part of me thought that by now Julia and I would have figured this thing out. But we are far from it. It seems like she struggles at almost every feeding. She goes back and forth between understanding what she's doing to not having a clue. Top that off with the worst pain a woman can feel and really bottle feeding seems pretty appealing.

Honestly, the only thing keeping me going for breastfeeding at this point is knowing that this is the best thing I can do for Julia. And even then I'm not sure that's why I'm doing it. Maybe really I'm just afraid of being a bad mom. So I breastfeed. Yeah, that's really what it is. I am overwhelmed with fear. Fear that she isn't gaining weight properly, fear that she isn't getting enough food, fear that I don't understand her cries, fear that I am doing absolutely everything wrong. Fear that things will always be this hard and that my life will stay this way. Fear that I will not be able to show my daughter the love that she so badly needs and deserves. Fear that I am not living up to my role as a wife, or as a daughter of the Lord. Fear that I am going through a huge trial and am missing the whole message from God. Fear that I am turning to everyone but God. Fear is literally consuming me. It can be completely immobilizing.

I'm not sure what is going to happen over the next few days, weeks, or months. I'd love to say that I will be on my face before the Lord gaining my strength from Him, but since we're going for honesty here, I can't say that will be the case. I want it to be, but I'm sure it won't always happen.

So here's to honesty through trials in the new year.

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!***