I had some quiet time this evening, just laying on the couch and .....listening. I had been in the kitchen, praying for a while, but there became a point when there just were no more words. So, I laid down on the couch and was still. DD is such a sweetheart. She brought me her knew kitty doll for company, and dragged her blanket in from her bedroom, so she could cover me up. After "reading" me a story about sleeping beauty, she laid down on our other couch and was quiet for a bit.

All in all, I think that this fear over my child is my Isaac. As I lay there, I started thinking about what Abraham was told to do, how precious his son was to him, and how he still was willing to sacrifice him. The fact that the Lord stopped him and provided a lamb isn't the point for me, but that he was willing to trust the Lord with what he valued so very much. That can be a hard thing to do.

I am definitely no "super christian", or some person with extraordinary faith. I am just one small person, trying to make peace with life, and love God. There are going to be days when I take one step forward, and two back. No one gets it right all of the time, well, no one but Jesus. lol I think about Moses, whom God was going to kill because he did not circumcise his son when he should have. Even legendary leaders fall flat on their faces sometimes, and don't have their hearts in the right place. I'm not making excuses, but accepting that I will never be perfect. I will not always do or say the right thing.

There are some days when I am envious of women who have more children than I do. I should adjust my thinking, and simply be tremendously happy that I have a child at all. God could have just as easily closed by womb earlier, and I could have spent my life without these wonderful and trying experiences. I am so very happy for women who have been so blessed by multiple children, and such varying personalities to learn. I am astounded by the capacity that a mother's heart has, to wrap itself around every new child, to love each as much as they do the first. It is just amazing.

I do not feel any less blessed because I have only my daughter to raise. She is such a gift. Some days I worry that I dote on her too much, that somehow I will love her too much, and I will raise a brat. lol Maybe in some ways, I do seek to give her too much, as it is. It really hurts my heart when she tells me that she would like a brother and a sister. She is so innocent, and she doesn't understand how much her loneliness bothers me. I feel torn about homeschooling because we have such little money that we may not be able to afford lessons, classes, and social outings. With DH's approach to church attendance, I'm not sure what I can offer her there either. *sigh* I worry that my little girl is going to grow up lonely, resent me, and become rebellious against myself and God.

I guess I just worry too much. I understand that I am supposed to give it up to God, and then leave it alone. The Word is right on, that we have enough worry for today, without adding the worries over tomorrow. I am still trying to understand what are my responsibilities, and where God takes over and does His work. So long as I am trying my best and being diligent, is it possible for me to fail? Whether it is a physical accident or emotional turmoil, how much of the burden is right for me to shoulder? I am just mulling over things like this, trying to understand what is a lack of trust and faith, and what is simply the motivation to be a good and caring mother.

*sad laugh* I am not praying any where near enough. There are so many questions and uncertainties. I should be doing more seeking and knocking.....

Today has definitely been a different sort of day.

I finally resigned myself to warming my pillow at about 4am, which isn't too bad. I wasn't really ready, but DH needed me. I'm not sure that he was aware, but he started having some distress in his sleep, which I can only assume was from a dream. I think it is amazing, the affect that one person can have on another, just by placing an arm around them. He calmed right down, and seemed to sleep calmly.

When DD woke up, I wasn't feeling ready to get out of bed. My eyelids somehow managed to turn into sandpaper while I was sleeping, so it took a little time to get the moisture going again. Ouch. So, I let DD give me a "makeover" while I tried to wake up. Oh, and she gave herself a makeover too. By the time that she was done, I looked like Darth Maul. She took my dark red blusher and painted my whole face. I scared myself when I looked in the mirror. lol She looked goofy, but at least she didn't look like a lobster. lol

So, I figured that it was a good time to take a bath, since we were pretty scary looking. While we were scrubbing away the mess, the phone rang. My dad was calling to make sure that I was awake. Oops. After emptying the tub of pink water, I filled it with clean water and let DD play for a while and generally splatter water all over the bathroom. lol I wanted her to have a chance to play and do something fun since it has been raining the past couple days. She seemed to like it.

Shortly after I got myself put together, dad showed up to get some files that I had saved for him. Surprising enough, he stayed for a while and we got a chance to talk for a bit. It was nice to have company. We talked about a whole bunch of things, which was peachy. DH even came home for lunch. Wow. What a different sort of day.

Dad and I were sitting at the kitchen table when I got a call from DH. He was sitting in the grass next to the exit off the expressway, right by his workplace. The ball-joint on the other side of the van broke, and the tire just about fell off. He says that it's pretty bad and it tore up some things. Buddy was on his way to pick him up though, and DH was going to call our insurance company and have them come out and tow the van to his workplace. I hung up and looked at my dad, nodding and expressing that the good Lord must really love my husband. DH wants to fix the van, but I'm not sure that I think it is worth it. That is twice now that he nearly lost his entire wheel while on the expressway. He doesn't want to stop for a moment and think about what that would have done to him, going 60 mph. He thinks I'm silly for fussing a little, whether it be the van, or trying to talk him into wearing a harness while working on the steep housetops at work. I don't know how I'm better serving him, by trying to impress upon him how much I would love to have him around, and well. Or, maybe I should just hush and let him make his own decisions. He knows full well that he could die in a roll-over accident in that van, especially with all of the tools and chemicals that he keeps in there while working. He KNOWS. It doesn't bother him enough to change things though. He can talk about life insurance money all he wants, but it sure wouldn't be able to love me back.

DD colored me a real pretty picture today. She made a flower with adorable little petals. She even thought to draw all of the leaves and color them in. Then there are the clouds and the sun. What a gorgeous little artist I have. I think that I am going to treat her to some popcorn tonight, since she has been asking about it. DH doesn't think that he will be home for a while, so we are going to record Smallville, and have a little salty popcorn. Yum.

I am weird, but you probably already figured that out. Anyway, I was fussing about how my carpel tunnel was acting up today, so what do I do? I sit down in a dimly lit room and play the piano. *laughs* I know, it doesn't make much sense. It makes even less sense when you know that I've never had a piano lesson in my life.

Let me tell you, that I don't usually sit down with a book of sheet music. Now, I do, from time to time. For instance, I plucked out a few simple songs for DD yesterday, so she could get the idea and sing a little bit. However, I normally just sit down and feel out cords and put notes where I want them. I find it theraputic, or however you spell that. I am slightly annoyed by the one key that is terribly flat though. Every time my finger touches it, I cringe. So, I just scooted down a little bit and molested the keys an octave lower. *laughs*

Yes, yes, maybe I should practice more with the sheet music, but I'm just not that interested. I may never have taken any piano lessons, but my dad did. He would bring home his beginner lesson books, and I would practice on the keyboard that mom and dad got for us girls to share when we were real young. It was a really nice keyboard. Anyway, I became somewhat proficient, mainly because I played clarinet in band, so I had to learn how to read music. Junior high was a dull gap in my school experience, because I was no longer in band, and there was no choir. I wouldn't have minded pulling a Frankenstein during that time, moving through it with a groan and the dragging of feet. Blah.

Now, highschool was pretty fun, after I learned how to be caring toward the teachers, and wildly rebellious toward the other students. There's history there, and I'll explain another time. I'll just leave it as, it ushered in an explosion of black hair dye and big black boots. *laughs* Anywho, I was finally able to join choir, or rather, I joined 3. I spent a lot of time learning and practicing for competition, in addition to normal school programs. Thanks to my choir teacher, I was able to keep up on my music reading, and progressed on to sight-singing (singing an unknown song by the sheet music alone). What fun. lol So, all of that to say that I don't make the neighbors scream and cover their ears when I sit down in front of the piano. Now, there are no guarantees when DD sits next to me, wanting to play a duet. *chuckles* I love that little girl. She propped up a "Cinderella" storybook on the piano today, so she could play music. Isn't that cute?

It's tuesday, so any intelligent person knows where I was at 9pm EST. *laughs* Yeah, I was sitting on the couch, staring avidly at the television screen while "House" was on. It's rare that I actually find a show that I honestly enjoy watching. But, this is right up my alley. I blame my mom, for making me watch years of E.R. . It's all her fault. lol Now, I don't catch E.R. very much anymore, but DH doesn't like me fawning over Goran Visnjic. It's really quite funny, since I am the least drooly girl that I know. DH just likes to tease me. Poking fun at me is the one great pleasure in his life, or so it seems. :o )

Anywho, so "House" is just coming on, and someone knocks on the door. Hmm.... who would be stopping by so late? Ah! It's Sis, and she's bearing pizza. Interesting. She proceeds to tell me that when she found out that I only made mac & cheese for dinner, she knew that something was wrong. So, she thought that they needed to save my family by feeding us. *laughs* She is hilarious. Just for that, I think that I'll let her pick where we are going for lunch on Friday. lol

Alright, so it isn't that any of my family were starving. She just seems to think that noodles do not make a suitable dinner. As she puts it, if you eat noodles, half an hour later you are looking for the rest of your dinner. I'm amused. Oh, but I'm not complaining. I had a little pizza, since she got some with mushrooms. I don't usually get 'zza with mushrooms because DH thinks that they look and taste like rubber bands. Heeheehee...  I blame it on my dad. When we were kids, we always got two pizzas. One had pepperoni and cheese, and the other had the works. Mom and the other girls always ate the pepperoni pizza, and I learned quickly that if I wanted to have enough food, I had to learn how to eat italian sausage, mushrooms, onions, etc. It never bothered me. *shrugs*

Oh, and if you haven't already slipped into a coma over my drivel, let me explain that it is nearly 2:30am, and I am unable to sleep. I have no one to talk to, and nothing to do. Why is it that insomniacs just can't find anything worthwhile to watch on tv? Is it better for those with cable? If I get too bored with talking to myself, I'll just put in the movie "Alfie". DH didn't really want to watch it all that much anyway, so I'm sure he won't fuss.

After Sis and her family left, DH and I headed off to the bedroom, where he proceeded to turn on the tv in there. I should probably mention that we have more tvs than we have people. DH collects them because people leave them behind at his work all of the time. We could probably be rich if he would sell them off for $10 a piece. *laughs* So, we have this little tv in the bedroom because DH likes to watch Jay Leno before zonking out. This evening, Laura Bush was on the show. I really do like her. For some reason, she really seems to put the "lady" back into the title of "First Lady". I know that when I think of Hilary, lady is the last word that comes to mind. I've also noticed that other people really clean up their act and remember the manners that their mothers taught them, whenever Mrs. Bush is around. That's nifty. I hope that I can have that kind of influence on people, causing them to want to be courteous and polite in my company. I'm a people-watcher, and it is just fun to see the way that folks react around different people. *wiggles brows*

So, I haven't quite figured out why I am so anxious that I can't get to sleep. Part of it is just physical, and I want to go and exercise. I really wish that my headset was working properly, but my local Christian radio station plays vintage gospel at night, and that isn't the greatest exercise music. So, I get to choose between that and the alternative station that plays songs full of crud. If I have to listen to "Hey Mister" one more time, I'm gonna toss the radio out the window. Ok, maybe not. But, at least I'll turn it off and make a mean face at it. I'm getting picky in my old age. I used to listen to all sorts of music, but lots of it just annoys me now. I think that the commercials are sometimes worse than the actual shows and radio song selections. 89X likes to play stupid condom commercials, all of which I don't want to explain to my 4 year old. WRIF has Drew and Mike, whom I feel are the radio version of Dumb and Dumber. Still, I can't figure out which is which.

I can't blame all of my insomniac craziness on physical restlessness though. My brain is doing it's own thing, and I haven't quite figured how to shut if off yet. I've practiced thinking about nothing, but every time that I start to succeed, then I realize that I was thinking about nothing- which is thinking about something. Hmmm... *scratches head* Blah, but I've been in a funk. DH knew what I meant when I told him that I wasn't feeling well today. I bet that it is a combination of the dreary weather and sifting through boxes of stuff. I went through some old pictures, notes, cards, and letters today. At one point, DD found a card that I had given DH, with Trystin's ultrasound picture glued inside. So, I had to explain to her what the picture was. Of course, then came the questions about how her brother could be dead. Oh, and then she decides to tell me that she wants me to have a brother and a sister for her, in my tummy. Great.

I think that the reason why DD has been so adamant about having siblings is because her friends are not around during the day. She is at that age where her friends to go school, and she doesn't. Those who are not in school, they are in daycare. So, that just leaves the two of us to keep each other company. Ok, I just suck. I'm not 4 years old, and I'll never be that age again. No matter how hard I try to play with her or entertain her, it's just not quite right. So, she played with the dog and chased him through the house until she fell down and hurt her foot. Then I became useful, and she liked me. *laughs* Oh, did I tell you that she said I have a big butt? *chuckles* That's SO not funny, but yet it is. DH had a talk with her about how it isn't nice to make jokes about how other people look. She used to talk about how she needed to eat more so she could have a nice round belly like mommy's, and while I was (am) embarassed, it wasn't too bothersome. She meant it in a different way when she said I had a big butt though, while pointing out to me that she has a small butt. Hmmm... yeah, I hadn't noticed. *rolls eyes* Silly girl. She had better be nice to me, or I'm gonna have to show her my big foot, and how it compares to her little butt. *chuckles* Ok, so not seriously, but I'll joke about it anyway. All I have to do is give her the look, and she's flinging herself around my neck, apologizing. She's like me in so many ways. Poor kid. lol

Alright. I ran out of words. I guess I'm off to do something else for a while........

Before too long, it will be May. Wow, that particular month has been hard for me, and I am surprised that I am feeling bad ahead of time. I would say that for the last couple months, I have had this sadness flirting with me. It's such a complicated situation, and I wish that I really had someone to talk to.

This May, I have to contend with Mother's Day again, along with my sons's birth/death day. I know that it sounds odd to some people that I would be upset on Mother's Day, especially being that I have a beautiful little girl and my own Mama to think about. I'm not sure that I'll ever really enjoy the day though. Back when I was pregnant with my son, my mom was a real sweetheart, and she sent me a Mother's Day card before Trystin was born. It was the most darling thing, and I have always appreciated my mom's soft heart for those sort of things. There was no way for her to know that approximately a week later, my baby would die. When she went to my home to clean the bathroom (I was freaking out about having to clean up all the blood), Mom also put away a lot of the baby things that we had aquired, along with the card. However, no matter where she tucked the card away, the happy memory always pops into my head each year. It's a bittersweet thing, remembering such happiness and hope. I think that was the last time I ever felt that way about babies, even though I became pregnant with DD three months after Trystin died.

I love my daughter, and I don't want her to ever grow up feeling as though she got less of me, and that I wasn't tremendously happy to have her. I am. I'm so in love with that little girl that it scares me. Lately, I have had to make war with a soul-deep fear that she will get sick on me, and that she'll die. DH doesn't understand exactly how I feel, so we had a little bit of a problem the other day while visiting at my sister's house. I should have guarded my tongue better. I guess it shows just what is in my heart, at least in part, that I was so quick to bite back at him for allowing something that worried me so deeply.

Sis lives in a townhouse where the living space is located upstairs, above the garage. It is a lovely place, but because of that, the first flight of stairs is pretty steep. When I was a young girl, I had a bad accident at home, and I tumbled headfirst down a flight of stairs and had to be taken to the hospital. My mom was pretty freaked out because she was afraid that I had broken my neck, with the way that I had landed. I was hurt pretty bad, but nothing was broken. However, I am terribly protective of DD around stairs. I even fuss at DH about running up and down stairs, and carrying awkward things down to the basement. He thinks that I am being silly. Anyway, he let DD walk down the stairs all by herself, while carrying an oversized shopping bag full of toys. She was almost to the bottom of the stairs when I saw what was happening, but I still got that cold chill running down my back. I asked him why he didn't hold her hand, and he said that she was big enough to do it herself. So, I asked him how he would have felt if she would have fallen while trying to manage that large bag, and he said that if she got hurt, she would be more careful the next time. With the terrible image of my little girl lying at the bottom of the stairs, broken, I snapped at him and called him an idiot. I'm ashamed for the way that I reacted, especially in front of my sister and her boyfriend. I guess Sis knew that something was wrong, because she knows that I don't act like that. As I sat on the bottom stair, putting DD's shoes on her, I could hear Sis explaining about the bad fall that I took.


I'm not sure that it is the stairs really, but that I am just afraid. Every day of her life, I am afraid of losing DD. I know that she belongs to God, and that He can take her home whenever He chooses. I'm just having a hard time coming to grips with reality that it is all on His terms. There is nothing that I can do to protect my daughter enough, to be diligent enough. I really put myself out on a limb, wanting to love another child again, and I'm not sure how well I could handle it if she died before me. It's almost ironic that I find myself dealing with the emotions that I tried so hard to put away when I was pregnant with her. I could feel this little girl rolling around in my womb, but I couldn't connect with her. I didn't dream about what her life would be like, nor did I even ready her room. I didn't want to become close to her because I knew that the chances were so high that I would lose her, and it would hurt so much more. I didn't want to deal with it then, but I'm having to deal with it now. I am definitely attached and just in love with this little creature. Every time I see a commercial on tv about people killed by drunk drivers, I inwardly cringe. Every time the shows about St. Jude Children's Hospital comes on, I see DD in a bed with no hair, her eyes sucken in. I guess that is just the truth concerning such a vital condition as love. It leaves a bit vulnerable spot right in the middle of your heart.

You know, I thank God every day for loving me enough to take on flesh and die for me. I don't know how unbelievers live through traumatic events and want to bother with taking another breath. I have watched people around me die, and maybe it gets easier to deal with the reality of it on one hand. On the other, I would be tempted to live in debilitating fear every day of my life. But, I still let DD ride her bike down the sidewalk, even though a car could hop the curb. I still let her play with sticks, even though she could poke her eye out. Snow angels are still fun, even though she could get pnemonia. I still want her to find happiness in marriage, even though she could end up with an abusive man who might beat her. I hope the best for her in childbearing, though it has the potential to bring sadness and pain. I want her to have the best in the world, and beyond. I guess that is why it is so important to me that she knows about God and comes to love Him. Without God, there is no hope. If I had no reassurance that the people that I love would be cared for ok after death, I'm not sure if I could cope. God is such a "great guy" for loving us enough to take the real fear out of death. Of course, no one likes the thought of dying. I'm sure that in a lot of cases, it isn't a pleasant proccess. I'll admit to being a little afraid of how I will die, or those that I love. But, at least I know that it is just a doorway, and not the destination. It helps me to relax a little, and not get quite so worked up as I normally would. I guess that as for the remaining fear that I deal with, I've got to do a lot more praying. It's ok though. He hears me. He knows, and He understands.

Oh, and I wrote this like this on purpose....