Sunday, February 08, 2009

Randomness

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It's just after 7pm Sunday night. Andrew is at church doing the sunday evening bible study and the kids are in bed. I have that "I've-been-up-way-too-much" look going on and there is stuff that needs to be put away. But it's quiet. We just got back from Andrew's Grandmother's funeral in South Jersey this afternoon. Last week was a riot, what with me being sick, then Nadia and then she decided to get a cold while we were gone. And it's a doozy. It didn't help we were sleeping in a cold drafty made-over attic. I had Rhys wrapped in three blankets, one was a fleece blanket. I should've pulled him into bed with us, but I was afraid he wouldn't sleep. And Nadia was up and down all night, who can sleep with a cough and a stuffed up nose? Poor kid. But we are home and everyone was down by 6. I know it's early, but neither had naps, except for Rhys in arms. Nadia still takes a good 3 hour nap every day. She's beat. She's also sporting 'the look'. She was so tired, she was falling all over the place. It was a very full weekend. But I got to see Andrew's family, I love those people. They are so accepting and loving. That is a testament to his grandmother. It was her witness. She exuded Christ's love to her family and they in turn lavish it on others. I never feel like an outsider. It's nice.

But we are home now. I am working on a new 'something-or-other' for the church. I can't say yet, just because it's not common knowledge yet. But it will be, soon. I'm excited to get more involved. Thank you Lord!

I am sort of sad this evening. I was checking up on Facebook and discovered a ton of my friends who have had babies and I didn't know or who are going to be having babies. On one hand I'm glad we are done, but on the other hand I want to just sort of weep about it. This PPD is so nasty, I just can't do it again. I know I'm done. But there is always adoption. But tell me, I'm worried I wouldn't love the child like I love my own. I mean I had bonding issues with Nadia, would I with an adopted child? And what about the money thing? My heart sort of aches a little. I guess giving up the thing you are supposed to be able to do hurts a little.

I ate so much fruit this weekend. We stayed with Andrew's Uncle and Aunt. Relatives sent them an Incredible Edible fruit arrangement. It was soooo good. And it helped to off-set some of the meat we were eating this weekend. We don't eat much meat, not that we are opposed to it, we just don't eat it. We discovered we are what people would call 'flexitarians'. Meaning, we eat meat, but not often. Mostly vegetarian, but occasionally meat and even at that it's fish or chicken. Hardly ever red meat or pork.

Rhys did great this weekend. Except the last hour of driving. He had enough. He's my sweet little guy.

And I finally understood the saying 'daily bread' about the word. It is so necessary, so needed, you 'consume' it everyday. I was reading it in the car. It was so much a balm to my soul. The Word. The Blessed Word of God. Thank You Father for blessing us with your precious Words of Life. Thank You!

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Poor Nadia!! Glad you had a good weekend though - it's always wonderful to be among Godly people, isn't it??

Oh, and I'm sure if God were to lead you to adopting, then he would also provide the finances and love :)

Anonymous said...

Kathryn, I'm glad there was some good from the sad and that your time with Andrew's family was a testament to his Grandmother's legacy. I can only pray that we leave such an impact on people.

With adoption, my sister adopted both of her kids and they are just as loved, just as much a part of the family as my kids are. (In fact, sometimes I feel like my mom lavishes more attention on them they she does on my boys.) We have a couple friends with some biological kids and adopted kids and there's no difference--they are family, pure and simple. And there are income tax credits for adoption costs (at least for overseas)--so while it may be expensive up front, some of it will come back to you the following year.