Facts

   I've seen a lot of 'random facts about me' status updates on Facebook. I love to read those kinds of things so here is mine.

I'd love to write a book one day.

I like to have my nails done but think the price is ridiculous.

'Gifts' is my love language.

I'd love to own a store or restaurant of my own one day.

I wish I was a put together woman who's makeup & hair is always done. Heck, I'd take just knowing how to do my hair and makeup!

Although it has gotten me in trouble on more than one occasion, I like how rough & tough I am. Don't believe me? I've got the scars to prove it!

I wish I knew how many people read my blog.

I'm a very picky eater. I'm trying to work on it but come on, wheat pasta is just nasty!!

I love to hear stories about me as a child. I usually end up hugging and apologizing to my Mom afterward. ;)

I'm in constant physical pain. A skateboard & I lost a fight with a half pipe 10 years ago. I had 2 black eyes for 8 months, chipped my teeth, scarred my knee & permanently messed up the alignment of my spine but never went to the hospital.

I often wonder why God gave me 3 girls. What do you do with so much pink?!

I love musicals!

The way to my heart is simple...accept me for the disaster in recovery that I am and love me anyway.

If given a choice about color, I will always choose black. (with the exception of my coffee)

I actually enjoy physical labor and despise the fact that I can't do it because my body aches. It makes me feel like a wimp and I hate that too.

I am terrified of being a mother. Seriously. I have no idea what I'm doing and constantly wonder what permanent scar I'm creating today.

There is only one man I love more than my Daddy.

Some of my favorite things are cute little boxes, funky cups, crazy pens & notebooks.

I want to dye my hair pink but only because my Mom firmly says no to black! ;)

I want to be fluent in sign language and spanish and learn how to play the piano before I die.

If I saw Captain Jack walking down the street, I'd follow him home. However, Johnny Depp wouldn't get so much as a nod from me.

I wish high heels didn't make my feet hurt so much!

I wonder what my reputation is. I want to be well thought of and liked but I know that everybody will not be pleased and I do not try.

I'm not a good follower. I have my own mind and I will make it up for myself.

I want my life to matter.

I hate my toes!

I can't wait for my girls to get older so that I can get rid of all the baby crap in my house. Seriously, who needs that much stuff?! Only baby humans.

I want to be treasured.

I love to make things. I can sew, quilt and am learning to crochet. I wish I was better at painting but since my kids don't care if their room is decorated by Thomas Kincaid or the Easter bunny, my lack of brush stroking skills is ok.

I'd love to have land and horses one day.

I think it's cool that my eyes are blue with a ring of yellow around my pupil.

I want to grow and learn. I love to know things even if they're pointless facts.

I want to kill a deer on a hunt with my Daddy.

I despise how long winter is.

I think a career in interior design would be awesome. I love to decorate and organize things!

If given a choice of any vehicle in the world, I'd choose a 1998 Dodge Ram. (I'd just spend the money to replace the engine)

Music is my delight.

I want to travel! I've been to nearly half of the 50 states but it's not enough.

I love craft shows, festivals, and concerts.

When I eat Skittles or M&Ms, I separate the whole bag into little groups with one of each color. I then eat the largest group with the most colors first and go on down the line.

I like to stand out.

I swear I will own a mini pony one day!

There can never be too much dessert on my plate.

I want to be an encouragement in my friends lives. I want to somebody they respect and come to for advice.

If I was granted 3 wishes, I'd spend my first on ridding the world of morning breath.

Wisdom of the Ages

   I have often been told that I lean on my parents too much. I've spent a great deal of time thinking and praying about this accusation. I have settled on a simple response.

   When I need my truck worked on, I take it to a mechanic. Why? Because a mechanic has knowledge that is out of my reach.

   My parents have lived this life far longer than I. They have struggled and persevered.

   When I need advice about life, I seek the people who have lived it before.

But as for you, teach what accords with sound doctrine. Older men are to be sober-minded, dignified, self-controlled, sound in faith, in love, and in steadfastness. Older women likewise are to be reverent in behavior, not slanderers or slaves to much wine. They are to teach what is good, and so train the young women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled, pure, working at home, kind, and submissive to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be reviled. Likewise, urge the younger men to be self-controlled. Show yourself in all respects to be a model of good works, and in your teaching show integrity, dignity, and sound speech that cannot be condemned, so that an opponent may be put to shame, having nothing evil to say about us.

Titus 2:1-8

One year

   Today marks the one year anniversary of my best friend's death.
  
   I assumed I would have a better handle on my emotions by now. They're as haywire as they were this time last year. I don't know which emotion to feel today. I'm angry, heartbroken, confused, and happy.
  
   Angry because of the way you died.
   Heartbroken because you're gone.
   Confused about why you chose that.
   Happy because you're at peace.

   In spite of all of that, there is one feeling that isn't haywire. One that never lessons or allows me to forget. One simple emotion.

   

   Love.

Self Inflicted Misery

   As a young mom of very young kids, I am frustrated...often. I get so tired of repeating the same commands all day every day. I get so sick of disciplining for the same issues I dealt with yesterday. I often think, 'We've been through this already! Why can't you get it? It's not that difficult!'
   Then I think of what a bonehead I am. I mean, come on! My oldest girl is barely 3 and my middle girl is just shy of 20 months. Seriously, is it even valid to get frustrated because I have to repeat myself? I'm going to say no to that.
   Is it not I who set my own expectations? Am I not the one who decides that she should 'know that by now'? I am the one who chooses to ignore everything she has accomplished and to focus on the one thing she is failing to comprehend at the moment.  I am the one who chooses to forget that learning and growth come slowly! All too often, I tell my 3 year old to do something and get aggravated when she just looks at me. Sometimes, I get aggravated despite the fact that I can tell she has no idea how to accomplish said task. I know she is not being defiant or disobedient and yet, I fuss at her anyway. I think, 'Well, why can't you figure it out?!'. How often do I make her feel stupid and worthless for something that is not her fault? How often am I guilty of simply being too lazy to get up and teach her how to do what I asked?
   I am very well aware of the commands my daughters understand. I know what each one is capable of and I believe I have every right to require they perform some tasks on their own. However, what right have I to fuss at my children for failing to meet every demand I make based not on what they know but on what is convenient for me at the moment?
   A unmet request is something that should be greeted with love and compassion. Something that should be met with understanding, grace and patience. My girls are not stupid but I can easily make them feel like they are. If I treat them like they're dumb, eventually they will believe it and act on it.
   Sometimes, my girls are completely ignorant of how to accomplish what I ask. It is my responsibility to get off my rear end and show them. It is my task to teach them their worth and value is not based on their ability to perform. They are quick, willing learners and desire my approval. It is my job to give it. I should acknowledge their effort, even if it is wrong, then show them the proper way to respond.
 
   I am a young mother. I am frustrated often. I get tired of repeating the same commands all day every day.

   I am a young mother who must remember that I am training my children. I am a frustrated mother who must remember that training takes time and repetition. I am a tired mother who must remember that training often means repeating the same commands all day every day.

Allison's Birth

   This is a story of childbirth. Therefore, if you are a man who chooses to read this and you read something that is TMI, it's completely your fault. You were warned.

   The story goes...

   After being turned away from Womack twice on Friday due to lack of available beds, I returned on Saturday morning expecting to be induced. When I arrived, there were still no beds available so a non-stress test was ordered. The nurse said I could go home if everything was ok and I would be a priority for a Monday morning induction.
   During the previous week, I had had 2 other NST's done. The line that was supposed to be measuring contractions looked like someone had drawn it with a ruler. Boy, that was a major discouragement, so I was not looking forward to what this NST might reveal. Happily though, I was having contractions this time. Whoo-hoo!!!!! After an exam, which told me I was 4 cm dilated, I allowed the doctor to strip my membranes. (Seriously, is there not a less painful way to do that?) I was told to go home and to expect a call on Monday if they did not see me before.
   I spent the rest of Saturday having erratic, barely noticeable cramping. It was 6pm before my contractions got my attention but they were still really far apart and easily ignored. They became uncomfortable around 945. My mom noticed a grimace on my face and we started to time them at 10. They were coming steadily at 4 minutes apart and lasting about 60 seconds. As I was sitting on the couch, I thought, 'We probably need to go. We're 40 minutes from the hospital and they're going to be really strong and close together by the time we get there.'

   And then...my water broke.

   In less than 2 minutes, my contractions brought me to my knees and I was spewing my dinner like Old Faithful. No longer erratic, no longer far apart, each contraction demanded my full strength and attention! My Mom helped me breathe through the pain while my Dad called an ambulance. They swear that it was at my house in 5 minutes but it seemed much longer to me! Thankfully, after some hastily asked questions it took only a few minutes to get me on the gurney, down the porch steps, and into the ambulance.
    I was supposed to deliver at the hospital on Fort Bragg but we knew it was too far away. I vaguely remember the EMT offering to take me to either Sanford or Dunn. Daddy immediately asked which one was better while Momma asked which was closest! They went with closest! That little scene still makes me giggle.
   There isn't much to say about the ambulance ride. It was horrendously painful and the 23 year old EMT was definitely worried about having to deliver a baby on his own. He kept asking me if I felt the need to push. He was very gentle but pale as a sheet. For a moment, it made me wonder if he was new at his job but the bigger thing on my mind was that they weren't going fast enough!
   When we finally made it to the hospital, they wheeled me into the ER then sent me upstairs. I've never been so nauseated in an elevator before! I'm certain the memory of that ride will always make me queasy! To add insult to injury, the upstairs hallways appeared to be longer than Route 66. When the EMT and nurses finally got me to the bed and told me to get off the gurney, I wanted to say, 'NO. Just leave me right where I am and go away.'. By that point, my contractions weren't letting up and I was seriously wondering if my legs would work. I was speechless when a nurse changed the command. She told me to go into the bathroom and get into a hospital gown. Didn't that woman know the bathroom was across the room, AKA located in Siberia?! I almost said NO again. Was this seriously necessary?! Of course, it wasn't an option so I got into a gown and somehow made it back across the room and into the bed.
 
   Little bit of a fox trail here... when I reached the bed, I told them that I needed an epidural. Most of you don't know this but when I was induced with Taylor, I tried to labor naturally even though I was given Pitocin. Let's just say it didn't work out. I was rolling along and happily miserable for a while. My contractions were coming hard and fast. I just knew that I could make it through the terrible pain. I was positive that I making progress and that baby girl was close to making her entry. WRONG.
   I remember with perfect clarity, the moment my nurse checked my cervix and told me that youngin had moved back up and I wasn't dilating any more. That was the moment that I wholeheartedly gave up. I made them turn the Pitocin drip off and told them I wanted an epidural on the spot.
   This time, my contractions were the same intensity and I just knew that they were about to tell me that I was only 5 or 6 centimeters. I was positive that I was a long way from giving birth and that I wasn't going to make it.
   Ok, back to the story. It will make sense in a minute, I promise.
 
   I remember a nurse telling me that I needed to lay down so they could check my cervix. Lay down? Flat on my back? You have to be joking. There was absolutely no way my stomach muscles would have relaxed enough for me to do that! After a few minutes, they gave up on that endeavor and checked me while I leaned slightly back.

9 centimeters.

   Holy cow, what a relief!!! I was seriously surprised and so, so grateful! I could do this. I could finally have a baby naturally like I'd always wanted to do.
   By the way those nurses flew into action, you'd have thought the Pope had just walked in the room. There were people, carts, and monitors going in every direction. They were taking the bed apart and giving me multiple commands that I barely heard. When the midwife arrived, they had me in those awesome, awkward stirrups and ready to push.
   After a couple of pushes, the midwife noticed something was wrong. My cervix had not thinned all the way and Allie was stuck. The only way around that problem was for my midwife, aka my new best friend, to reach her hand inside and pull it back. Oh my stars. You want to talk about intense pain! My entire body was focused on pushing and she was shoving.
 
   I screamed. More than once!
 
   Thankfully, though it didn't seem like it, the horrid pain didn't last long. Baby girl was ready to make her entry so I pushed for less than 5 minutes. When she started to appear, the midwife pulled her half way out and suctioned out her mouth. That was the last major pain. If I had thought my legs would have responded, I'd have given that woman a concussion.
   Allison weighed 9lbs 3oz, measured 22 inches and had a big head. She didn't make a sound and was the strangest shade of purple I've ever seen. It seemed to take a lifetime before she made a peep but when she did, the people 3 doors down heard it. Baby girl was here and healthy. Whoo-hoo!!

   There is no doubt that her birth was an absolute whirlwind! I am still shocked at how fast everything transpired. The ambulance left my driveway at 10:34pm and Allie made her entrance at 11:16pm. We were at the hospital less than 20 minutes before she got here. I hope she decides to slow down now!

Welcome to the world, my beautiful girl! 

Scars of Motherhood

   I'm 23 years old. I've had 3 babies in 3 years. My perky breasts now hang and sag. My strong muscles are limp and my skin is loose and flabby. My once flawless stomach now has a roadmap of bright red and purple stretch marks across it.
   I hate my body. I hate the marks that keep me from feeling attractive. I hate the floppy skin that keeps me from wearing the clothing I like. I hate the way my saggy boobs look in lingerie. I hate the way my limp stomach gives me a muffin top in my favorite jeans.
   I don't feel beautiful. Wait, forget beautiful. I don't even feel slightly cute. I avoid eye contact with the huge, laughing mirror after a shower. I rush to find baggy clothes that I can hide in.
   Will I ever like my body again? Nope. Am I ever going to be comfortable while naked again? Yeah right. Would I trade my stretch marks for a flawless belly like I had? Absolutely. Is it a huge struggle to accept what I look like after 3 babies? Obviously. Is it a mountain I have conquered? No. Is it a conflict and sacrifice that I willingly accept? Yes.
 
   I accept my body for what it looks like now because there are 3 tiny bodies that I carried for 9 months. It is true, I could have my perfect body back, but would I take it over those 3 tiny smiles? No freakin' way. I did 'sacrifice' my body when I got pregnant. But was it a real sacrifice? Is it not something that I can get over? Is it not something that is worth the change? I can buy new clothes. I can work out. I can realize and remember that I am important, no matter what my body looks like. Heck, I can buy a push up bra and save money for a tummy tuck if I want to. My stretch marks do not define who I am or what I'm worth. They do not take my beauty away. They don't make me undesirable. They make me a mother. They make my dreams come true. My dreams of 3 brilliant smiles and happy little girl giggles.

   It is because of one of these happy smiles that I am able to write such words. It is a scene that I will vividly remember for the rest of my days.

   On August 14, 2013, I was 2 days past due with my 3rd baby. I had just finished my shower and was doing my usual hurried routine of applying lotion to my very sore belly. I remember thinking that I just wanted to get it over with and get my shirt back on. I was so nervous that somebody would walk in and see my ugly belly or notice my flabby thighs.
   Suddenly, the door shut. I felt that familiar panic wash over me because there was nowhere to hide. I was slightly relieved when it was my 3 year old who came into the bathroom. She walked over to my side and stood quietly for a moment. Then, she reached up and gently stroked the large, painful stretch marks on my side. Her innocent words made me choke up.
 
   "They're so pretty, Momma."
 
   My instant thought was, "No, they aren't, but you are."

Broken Trust

I don't know where you are
But I know where you've been.
I don't know the truth
But I know the lies.

I can't understand the reason.
I can't see the end.
I don't know this sorrowful road.
I can't see around it's curves.

I know your angry.
I know your hurt.
I've heard your excuses.
I know your deceit.

My trust broken.
My heart in turmoil.
My mind in fear.
My dreams shattered.

Saying Goodbye

Kyle, Sergio, Brandon

 
   One of the hardest aspects of military life is saying goodbye to friends. It happens all too often and does not get easier.

Kyle & Sergio- basic training

Kyle & Brandon-
just after arrival at Fort Bragg

Kyle & Sergio shared their
first and last airborne jump.

    Kyle, Brandon and Sergio have been together since day one of basic training. The three of them have shared everything from promotion ceremonies to golfing on the weekends. They've attended every major school and training event together. Kyle and Sergio had their first baby girls within 3 weeks of the each other. They have shared boring work days and a long, drawn-out deployment. They've shared the grief of missing home and family along with the exhilaration of falling out of the sky. They've sharpened each other and given aid when needed. They've become a strong, three-headed spear.

   As Sergio and his family leave for Colorado, goodbye is hard and unwelcome. However, there are many things that do not change. They are not only comrades, teammates and best friends. They are brothers. They share a bond and an understanding that few have experienced. There is no doubt that each would fight the other to take the bullet for him, no matter the distance between.

         

All proudly wearing the rank of SGT

 

Memorial Day 2013

   This Memorial Day, I see everyone thanking Soldiers, past and present. There is only one Soldier who has ever caught my eye and he is so much more than a Soldier to me. He is my best friend. He's my favorite person in the world. He's my husband. My Kyle.

    My husband is a strong, skilled Soldier. He's dedicated and sacrificial. He excels at his job and his training. You can't find a man more willing to lay down his life for his team. He is honorable and worthy of the praise he brushes off. Plus, he's an absolute stud in his uniform!!

   Still, he is so much more than that. He's the one who still makes my heart leap when he smiles. He's the only one who's kisses I crave. He's the one who's strength draws me in close and safe. He's the person that I want to spend every day of my life with. He's the man who is my confidant and security. He's the one who protects me. He is where I find peace in this world of turmoil. He is the one who fills the lonely, endless void in my world and makes me happy. He is and always will be my greatest treasure.

Our first MP Ball

 
   There is nobody like My Kyle and there is no one as proud of him as I am. I have witnessed first-hand the sacrifices he has made on behalf of myself and our country. These are things that I will be eternally be grateful for. I am proud to stand by his side and hold the title of Mrs. Jensen. I am honored to know that he loves me when he doesn't have to.

 The day he left me and Paige behind
to hold down the fort in Iraq.

    On this Memorial Day, I want to thank you, Mr. Jensen, for being the man who comes home every night. Thank you for working so feverishly to support our family. Thank you for holding my hand and bringing home flowers just because you want to. Thank you for loving me when I fail you!
 
   I also must say thank you to you, Sgt. Jensen. Thank you for volunteering to serve our nation. Thank for wearing your uniform with pride and upholding the standards of a true American Soldier. Thank you for choosing to put your life on the line so our children and I do not have to. Thank you for answering the Call of Defense.

I love you more than all the raindrops in the world!!!

Sisters

   Have you heard the news? Our newest addition has been confirmed as a baby girl! We're excited to welcome her into our clan and I can't wait to get to know her!
   I have always loved the differences between Paige and Taylor. In true sibling fashion, they could not be more opposite. I love the way that it comes naturally too. Paige absolutely loves anything sparkly but, shockingly, she's not into jewelry. Taylor has loved jewelry from day one, especially necklaces. I also love that they look nothing alike. I know quite a few people have found that statement odd but I know that if I had a sister, I wouldn't want to look just like her. Paige has been obnoxiously loud since she found her voice at a few weeks old and Taylor is calm and quiet. As quiet as she is though, Taylor is without a doubt, the adventurous and mischievous one. She attempts things at 15 months old that Paige won't even consider at nearly 3! Taylor has always been a little trailblazer and nothing is out of her reach. I love how brave and fearless she is! Paige is very, very timid and receives multiple heart attacks each day from Taylor's ramblings. I can't help but giggle at the way Taylor turns to look at her. It's a look that is all too familiar to the muscles in my own face... 'Seriously, what is the big deal? I can do this. Just watch me!'.
   Another huge difference is, Paige has always been a little momma. She loves any and all babies! She is so excited for our newest edition to get here and asks me every day why it's still in my belly. Taylor, on the other hand, is a jealous little thing. She can't stand for anybody to be in my lap, including Paige. Seriously, the girl will be on the other side of the room, playing happily with her back turned and then she realizes that Paige is in my lap or next to me. Oh boy! She will immediately drop whatever she's doing and make a beeline to my side. She will fuss and yell at Paige and if she doesn't move, Taylor will shove her out of the way. I don't think that kiddo is going to take a new baby sister attached to Momma happily!
   Like I said, I'm very excited to see what our newest girl will be like. I'm guessing, being a 3rd child myself, that she will be a mix of Paige and Taylor's tastes. I was always up for anything my completely opposite brothers were doing. I loved to fish like Ryan and I tried my best to play video games with Randy. Sadly for him, I'm the worst gamer in the world and I realized it early! Instead, I went outside and attempted skateboarding with Randy. Although I turned into a rollerblader, I was still on his heels on those ramps! I was my own person but I enjoyed both of their hobbies.
   Most of all though, I am looking forward to seeing who our newest one looks like. In my opinion, Paige looks like me now and Taylor looks like me as a child. They both had their Daddy's red hair when they were born but it's long gone now. I would love for our new girl to have red hair and hold on to it! I'm also ridiculously curious (and slightly scared!) to see how much this one will weigh at birth. Paige was 8lbs even and Taylor was 10.3lbs so I think baby girl has her options open!
    Well, thankfully, my curiosity won't last long. Barely 13 weeks left to go!

Anguish...I mean 'Pregnancy'

   When I had my first, I was pretty sure that I didn't like being pregnant. I made myself remain optimistic though because I realized at the time, there were a wide range of factors keeping me from having a clear head. Then, my second showed up and I knew that I legitimately hated being pregnant. Now, expecting my third, I have discovered that I don't hate pregnancy at all. I loathe it. Pregnancy is the most miserable thing ever and I'll tell you why...

~I am severely nauseated before the strip even turns pink and it intensifies as I get farther along. I've lost 10 pounds this time around simply because I can't even hold a saltine cracker down. Have you ever thrown up spaghetti?? I promise you can't even imagine what that is like.

~We've all heard that bogus line...'You look so good. You're glowing!'. No, lady, I'm not glowing. I'm sweating!

~I have an unexplainable rash that covers most of my body, itches like poison ivy, and looks like I have some kind of gross fungus. 

~I, who was once the queen of tan, sunburn faster than a redhead in Hawaii while pregnant. 

~Would you enjoy having to change your underwear every time you sneeze?

~I have a previous back injury and my joints ache the entire time. Don't even get me started on the pain in my pelvis and hips. 

~I'm not one of the ones who is 'blessed' with missing sleep toward the end because I'm uncomfortable. I have insomnia the entire 9 months or longer. 

~We will not even discuss my going down the detergent aisle and I firmly believe that Yankee Candle is Satan's morning breath when I'm pregnant. 

~Make sure you always have a regular strength Tylenol ready for my headache, TUMS for my heartburn and do not leave the house for an hour without 3-4 snacks and some apple juice. 

~I should be in a nursing home with all of the other patients suffering from memory loss. 

~Would you consider it fun to feel like you have the Amazon River raging in your bladder only to realize that it's just the St. John's Creek?

~With my first two, I didn't have a single craving. There was nothing that I wanted other than sugar but since sugar is my cocaine, that wasn't anything abnormal. However, this time around, I have one craving. One ridiculously gross craving...hotdogs. I've eaten perhaps 4 hotdogs in the the last 5 years and now I want one so bad that my mouth waters. Really?! I don't even like hotdogs! Can you imagine how horrible it would be to throw one of those up?! I do believe that I shall resist said craving even if it's the death of me. 

~Seriously, why do severe leg cramps only occur between 1 & 4am? Ever heard of 3 o'clock in the afternoon??

~Stretch marks and weight gain don't need to be discussed. Ankles? Who has ankles?

~One blessing I have received in pregnancy is that I have never had diabetes. However, I absolutely cannot allow myself to get hungry. My blood sugar drops so low and so fast when I get the least bit munchy, that I often have to sit down immediately. My legs turn into Jell-O and I am so weak that I have a hard time focusing. My head spins and I will be weak and unsteady for the rest of the day, especially if I can't keep food down. It is incredible how quickly I can bottom out and there is minimal hope of return.

   People always look at me like I have 3 heads when they hear about my hatred of pregnancy. Well, do you get it now?? It is not and has never been a pleasant experience for me. I have no doubt that people also wonder why I'm still having children if pregnancy is that miserable. Well, that is simple. Have you ever heard someone say, "You'll forget all the pain of labor once you hold that baby for the first time."? I think that saying is ridiculous. I haven't found that to be true of labor pain or pregnancy. I hate being pregnant, I know it and will not forget it until my dying day. However, I love my children. I am blessed and honored to be their mother! I am flabbergasted that God finds me worthy of raising His children and astounded that He's willing to give me more! I have always wanted a big family and greatly anticipate the day that all of our children are here. I enjoy my family and my children are my jewels. It is difficult to carry them and hard to tend to their every need. However, I know that this is a short phase in our life and soon, we will move on to something else. That is what I choose to focus on. The truth is that I wouldn't make it through another pregnancy if I didn't know there was a pot of gold at the end. 
   My hubby has always said he wants 4 kiddos and if that is the number we settle on, I'll have made it through 3 out of 4 in August! *Whew* 

March Status Report

   Hi strangers!! A lot has changed with our little family since the last time I wrote. It seems like I've opened a lot of entries like that lately.
   We're doing well! We are now living in Lillington. We've found a rental house out here that is considerably cheaper than our apartment and we are enjoying it so much! However, I would very much like spring to show up so that we can finally enjoy our yard. How I hate the cold and this year it just can't seem to make up it's mind.
   Our girls continue to grow like weeds. We've been having a rough time with Paige lately. She's been sick for over a month and we have no idea what is going on. As most of you are also mothers, you can understand how ridiculously frustrating that is. I can't seem to make any sense of her symptoms and neither can her doctor. The girl will be totally fine and then she will throw and run a fever for a few days. After her fever fades away, she will be fine for 5-6 days and then it will start over again. Her appetite is nearly nonexistent most days and she has off and on diarrhea. We're also having a very hard time with her getting out of bed at night. I feel like it is something I could easily fix but I'm not sure how to go about that when her fever or nausea will randomly sneak up on her in the middle of the night. I've taken her for blood tests and collected stool samples. They are looking into a parasite because blood tests for Rotavirus and other infections are negative. We have also been referred to a 'gastro-something I can't pronounce' and are waiting for an appointment.  As you can see, it's annoying and we are dying for an answer. Our girl is clearly sick but we can't help her. Ughhh!!!! In the mean time, since she is also fighting pink eye, I'm pumping her full of probiotics and every other good thing I can find!
   As for Taylor, she's doing well. She has had some diarrhea but has none of Paige's other symptoms so I'm blaming hers on teething. As I've said before, teething has never been a kind process to the poor girl. She currently has 4 jaw teeth pushing through and another canine on it's way. I don't know why that child can't do anything on a small scale! Her weight seems to broken even in the mid twenties but her legs don't seem to be getting the message. She was the average height of an 18 month old at less then 13 months. She's now just over 14 months and her 18 months clothes are snug and too short. That's another reason that I'm hoping for warm weather soon. I have an entire wardrobe of 24 months and 2T clothes but not one piece of it is cold weather stuff. Come on, spring, I need you here!!!
   My pregnancy is going well, if you can call it that. I'm as nauseated as ever but I've found some things to ease it. Nothing makes it disappear but I wasn't expecting that. I had my first ultrasound done last Saturday and, at 20 weeks, everything looks great. We still aren't sure what we're having though. The ultrasound tech tried so hard to see the sex of the baby but that youngin is curled up in a ball and absolutely refused to move. When I say the lady tried, I mean she really tried! There were a couple of times that I had to ask her to stop pushing on my stomach so hard. She did get a very hazy picture and guessed that it is a baby girl but said that she couldn't give me a definite answer. We assumed that it would be a very long time before we could get another ultrasound scheduled but I got a call from my doc today and she said that we have to have another one done soon because some of the pictures are not good enough. Fingers crossed for try number 2! On the upside, I've been feeling life for a few weeks now and those kicks are steadily getting stronger. That will always be the strangest, most amazing feeling ever!
   My hubby is doing good. He's been training hard lately and will be out of town for next couple of weeks. He will get weekends at home though and I always appreciate that! It always reminds me of what it's like to miss that man for too long. Kyle will be preparing to get out of the Army in December so he is always busy on his hunt for another job. We don't have a solid direction from God but we have a couple of possibilities to explore. We're both excited and nervous to begin another chapter. The Army is all we've ever known and we aren't sure how to be regular civilians but we know that we serve a mighty God who knows exactly what He's doing!
   In short, our life is chugging along. There are a lot more details to it than what I've written here but I'll fill you in on those later. Bye bye, pals!

Black Mark on My Soul

I am a writer to my core.
But when my thoughts turn to you,
All words are swept away.
I feel the harsh sting of grief.
I sense the endless pit of sorrow.
I cannot bring myself to write of you.
I refuse to utter our final goodbye.
You remain forever
A black mark on my soul.