Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Sophia's 5th birthday party!

Jack Everett had a blast at Sophia's birthday party at Aerial Athletics - a huge gymnastics gym that was larger than life. He had a bad cough that day, and I just prayed that he would not throw up in the foam pits (not to mention the always-nagging fear that he might pee in the moon bounce.) Heather and I kept asking him if he was okay, but he just coughed and coughed and ran and ran, and jumped, and laughed. They had a blast. He never left the side of his best friend Lawton. They really are two peas in a pod. I took a gajillion pictures during the party, and it will be really hard to pick which ones to post. But, here goes:

"Just hangin' with my best friend!"

Lawtie could hang almost twice as long as Jack could. She thought that was pretty funny.

"Let's JUMP together on the count of three!... One... two..."

"THReeeEEE!..." (This was the shallow pool.)


OK, now for the deep end. "Come on, Jack, we JUMP together on THREE."
"One... Two..."

"THREEEEEeeee!"

Ok, Jack is not so sure.

"Hmmm.... It's much deeper than I thought."

Jack finally gets up the nerve. "Wheee!"

"Wook, I did it Momma! I'm way down here!"

After that first one, he and Lawtie jumped about forty more times.

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And, for my favorite picture of all...

"FREE Fallin'...."

To see the rest of the FUN pictures from the party, click here:

Saturday, October 27, 2007

"Goodnight, Little One."

Today, October 27th, was the due date for our second baby.

It is amazing how life changes the very second you find out you are pregnant. Everything changes. All of a sudden there's a presence in your body, in the house, in the family, in your heart and in your soul. Every decision from that moment forward takes on a new dimension. A new Mom's mind races. Instantly you figure out the due date, what the weather will be like at that time, whether he will make the school deadline, how old he will be at certain holidays, and how far apart the siblings will be. Everything changes. Is the CR-V big enough? Should I go back to work? Have we saved enough money? Will I need pink paint? Did I take aspirin yesterday?

As any expectant mother, I was so excited about the baby's first sonogram. I would hear the heartbeat for the first time, and would find out whether we were having twins. We have some twins on both sides of the family, and since aspects of this pregnancy were a bit different (we now know why), Dr. G. scheduled me for an impromptu "twin detection" sonogram on a Wednesday morning. Jeff was unable to come on such short notice as he had to work. It was clear by the way the Doctor quickly turned the sono screen away that something was wrong. I could not believe it as he started to explain. I couldn't breathe.

When he left the room, I had to get dressed and felt sick as I put my maternity shirt back on. I had come into the room pregnant, and had to leave the room 'not pregnant.' I gasped for air, and have never felt so alone. I wanted Jeff. Leaving that office was surreal. Walking out, I couldn't help but feel hot with jealousy as I passed all the pregnant women in the waiting room. I was angry at them. Some sat there looking and acting so uncomfortable. One even said to the nurse, "Tell him I'm ready to get this over with!" I wanted to scream. They were complaining. If they only knew. It shouldn't have been me. I didn't complain about my pregnancy! I was grateful!

In my car, I was inconsolable and the parking attendant said, "Honey, it will all be okay. God is with you." She had no idea what had happened to me, but God prompted her, and He comforted me through her at that moment.

Mom met me back at the house to put my maternity clothes away and help me rearrange my closet. She put Jack's laundry away because I did not want to go into the nursery. We looked at the little sonogram picture and cried together. She had lost a grand baby too. She went into another room and called my grandparents and some others so I wouldn't have to. When I heard her telling people, I cried because I felt like I had caused them pain too.

Darin and Marilyn brought us steak and mashed potatoes that night. Marilyn listened as I told the story out loud for the first time. She didn't say a word and I appreciated that. She couldn't relate, and didn't try to. We both cried. I hadn't wanted to see anyone but was so glad she had come by.

I sent out an e-mail that next day. I was sorry I had told so many people. Over the next week, I received 45 responses. The responses were so overwhelming and we felt surrounded by love and prayer. I re-read each and every one of them again today, and finally deleted them.

It was amazing how many girlfriends said, "I have been through this too." Most of them had never told me about their experiences before this happened. It's a "club" that you don't realize exists until you are forced to join. It's a club I hoped I'd never join, but one in which I have found great comfort through these past months.

It took over five weeks for my body to catch up to our technology, which was by far the most difficult part of all of this. To know that you will miscarry has to be worse than having it happen when you least expect it. It seemed everyone else was moving on, often much quicker than I was, but I tried to understand. The most frequent question was, "Are you going to try again soon?" I could not help but feel defensive of the little life we had just lost. Actually, I felt very defensive. I knew they had the best of intentions, but does someone ask a widow of six weeks if she is going to date again soon?

For a few weeks, it was hard to see new babies, and sometimes hard not to feel mixed emotions as Emily's healthy pregnancy progressed. At first, I was so sad, wishing we were going through this together like we had planned. Before long, however, I found myself feeling an overwhelming sense of thankfulness for her little son. I was happy for her before, was even happier for her once I was so suddenly reminded what a miracle Evan's life really was. I no longer take babies and pregnancy for granted.

I thought I was doing well until about three weeks ago when a bill collector called from the hospital. She advised me that one of my payments was 8 days late. I apologized and explained that we had set up payment plans for the big stack of medical bills we faced, and that I was doing the best that I could. She gave me a slightly cold response, and it was apparently my last straw, bless her heart. I started bawling... "Ma'am, you need to be more sensitive! Every time I get an envelope from you, I cry. It's a reminder that I am not pregnant. Month after month I receive bills from you, from the OB, from the ER, from the anesthesiologist, all pouring salt into my wounds, kicking me while I am down!" She was silent. I continued, "I open your bill to make a payment, and every time I do I have to read the words "Incomplete Abortion" to describe the loss of my child! Then, I open another one, and another one. I am doing the best that I can!" She was dead silent, and I am sure she was shell-shocked. I cried and cried. Still, silence on her end of the line. She very softly asked if she could put me on hold. She came back on the line, apologized, and offered me $300 off the remaining balance, and I paid the rest in full. It felt so good. I could put that one piece behind me. I felt that much closer to finding some closure. I had not realized what these bills were doing to me, reminding me, not allowing me to move on. Instead of something that had happened, it felt like something that was happening over and over. I feel sorry for that poor phone rep, but I have felt better since getting that off my chest that day!

Anyway, as much as I had longed for a new baby, I have not been able to imagine trying again before this baby's due date. I felt that being pregnant with a new baby on October 27th would be like we had forgotten about him. It did not feel right. I wanted to honor this baby's life cycle by waiting and grieving him for nine months. I felt I owed it to him and that I needed that time to mourn. Jeff has respected this decision throughout the past months, not pretending to understand.

I have thought about this day for about 6 months now, sometimes fearing it, at other times anticipating it. I spent weeks wondering how I would feel and how I would spend the hours. Sometimes I pictured myself taking Jack to the movies or the zoo to celebrate him and what he means to us; Sandra suggested that I go to a park and release a balloon go in honor of the baby. Most often I pictured myself sleeping the day away, crying and crying, and eating queso.
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So, the day is here. I am glad I am not pregnant. I have thought of this baby we lost all day. It has always felt like it was a boy to me. I don't know why. But what if it was a girl - my only chance at a brown-haired girl? What if it was a blonde-haired boy with his Daddy's blue eyes? I will never know. Some say I will meet this baby in heaven. I don't know.

A friend of mine asked if she could take me (and Jack) to lunch today. I had my queso after all. She suffered a miscarriage a few weeks after I did, and she always lets me talk about the details others just don't want to hear. I shared that had a terrible dream last night that I was holding a baby and he kept slipping out of my arms. The mom finally took him from me. I had forgotten how to hold a baby. I woke up in a sweat. She just listened and understood. I needed that. After lunch, we shopped for a while until Jeff got home from work. I enjoyed having Jack close all day. Jeff cooked dinner, and then gave me space so I could come write. I needed blog therapy.

A few minutes ago, he came in here and he had bought me Beth Moore's devotional "Praying God's Word Day by Day." I cried some more. Then, Jack came to give me a bedtime kiss, and he allowed me to hug him tighter and longer than he ever does. He wasn't silly like he usually is, and he just let me hold him. He asked me, "Mommy, why are you crying? Is it because you want a baby?" I was shocked. I looked at Jeff who told me that he had not said a word to Jack about a baby. They know. They hear and they listen. I cried, and told him that it was okay for Mommies and Daddies to be sad sometimes.

Throughout this process, I have learned many things:

1) Jeff and I are much stronger than I realized. He does not understand what I am feeling, and is not trying to pretend to. He got me the sweetest card today; He left it on my steering wheel. I will never forget it. God strengthens our marriages through trials, so we are thankful for that.

2) To say you trust God and to actually place your trust in Him are two different things. From the day after the miscarriage, we have chosen to "praise Him in this storm." God's plan is not one that we have to understand, and we do not try to decipher the meaning of this loss. We thank Him for whatever He saved us from, and whatever He has in store for our lives. It feels good. It feels obedient. We have been blessed by doing so.

3) I will never again minimize the effects of a miscarriage, no matter how early on in the pregnancy it happens. It is a death... the death of a baby, and of a dream. Until this happened to me, I will admit that I minimized it sometimes and thought, "Well, it happens. They'll get pregnant again... God has a plan." It is so hard to be told in a time of devastation that "God has a plan" or that your baby "wasn't meant to be."

4) I mustn't allow the fear of miscarrying again to keep me from trying. I have to be prayerful or fear can grip me and become overwhelming at times. I ask God for more children. Sometimes I beg. I am afraid that I will not have another baby. Fear is not of God. I want to be present in my own life. I want to live in the here and now, enjoying Jeff and Jack and recognizing the blessings I have now. It's easy to sulk in the past, or look in fear to the future, but I am trying not to do that. Still, I allow myself to tell God what my heart desires.

Phillippians 4: 6 and 7 tell us, "Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

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I will still think about the little life that was inside me for 10 short weeks. He changed me. He changed his Dad, and we're thankful for that. His due date is here; It's sad that he is not. However, it feels okay to move on. It feels okay to start thinking about a new baby and a new start. It feels okay to delete the sad e-mails and to put away the cards. It's okay to dry some of these tears and say goodbye to that dream. Tonight, we go to sleep and we dream new dreams.

Goodnight, Little One.

Friday, October 26, 2007

Happy 50th, Mom!

When I tell people my Mom just turned 50, I hear one of a few responses:

1) Wow, your MOM is only 50?!
2) She doesn't LOOK 50!!
3) What?! I am old enough to be your Mother!?

Happy Birthday, Mom. Glad we could celebrate with you. I don't have time to write a long blog about you tonight, but wanted to be sure to post something on this special day.

I love you.

Jack Everett's First School Picture

I have really enjoyed Jack being at Grace Point. They have such a great a curriculum, and he is learning so much. I loved it when he came home and told me all about "Cuh-wum-bus Day." He told us all about "Cwister" Columbus and the "Neena, the Peenta, and the Santa Muh-wee-ah."

Anyway, another thing I loved about preschool was his first Picture Day! The morning of the pictures, I arranged ahead of time to come in late to work. I know myself well enough, and my boss Robbi is, well, the best. I made Jack take a bath that morning, and he was all excited about his new clothes. He wanted to wear his new (pressed, white) shirt in the car, so when I told him he couldn't wear it until we got there, I sensed a battle beginning to brew.

I immediately went to "If you just get in the car, you can have a lollipop!" Yes, I did. Jack, sensing that I was frenzied, quickly bargained, "TWO lollipops?" I said, contemplating that much sugar at 7:45 am when he had not even had breakfast, "Sure." So, both of us satisfied, we got into the car.

He is so pleased with himself.

Jack eats his "breakfast of champions" as we leave for school, crisp white shirt nicely hung.

This is how we look when we arrive at school. Just think... If it weren't for Mommy's forethought and intuition, that yellow lollipop would be resting on a stained, wrinkled, sweaty white shirt. Mama knows.

We stop for some pics on our way into the church. What a pose!

He insisted, "I want one touching the tree," so I clicked this shot.

I said, "Okay, Jack, you can touch the tree, but look at Mommy." This is the result. He did his best not to look at the tree. I love this picture.

Of course, my favorite one turns out blurry. Still so handsome.

Again, I was the only parent there with my camera all sentimental, but the staff is SO used to it by now. I walked him into his classroom and turned him loose, hoping he'd keep the shirt unstained and crisp, hair neat and nose clean until picture time.

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And, the final product....

Jack Everett Griffin
3 years

Friday, October 19, 2007

Silly bathtub pics!

Jack discovers his reflection in the bathtub hardware one evening.

"I can see you Mommy!"

" Rock n' roll, and Hook 'em Horns!"

Sweet boy looks like his Mommy.

OK, maybe a little like his Daddy too.

Jack, keeping all his ducks in a row.


By the way, a special thanks to Aunt Mel for the green roll-on body soap. It works great on his body, the wall, the tub, the rug, his towel, the curtain, and all the rubber duckies' faces.

Thursday, October 18, 2007

"Take a Bite Outta Crime!"

"McGruff the Crime Dog" came to Grace Point this week. I was off work, so I took Jack Everett up to the school to meet him, and to complete the Fingerprint ID process. I remember McGruff coming to my school when I was little. When he came into the classroom, all the kids ran up to him to hug him... except Jack Everett. He ran behind him and onto the floor. He didn't cry or anything, but was a little scared.

I stood outside the classroom to snap this pic.

I finally got him to pose when McGruff came into the hall alone.

Terri (out of costume) explains to Jack Everett that God made everyone with a unique fingerprint. She explained that even Mommy's fingerprint is different than Jack's fingerprint. Jack said, "I know. It's bigger."

Jack was so still and careful with the fingerprint machine.

He could instantly see his prints on the screen and was quite fascinated.

After weighing (33 pounds) and measuring him (39 inches), it was time for his ID card picture. As usual, I was the only parent at the school that day, and of course had my trademark camera hanging around my neck. So, she sits him down to take his digital ID photo. I am quietly standing behind her, all but blending into the wallpaper, and letting her do her job. After some delay, I just couldn't help but try to assist her and said, "Jack, say cheese!" She quickly turned to look back at me and said, "Mom, we do not want them to smile. We want to clearly see their facial features and eye color."
I skulked around the corner to get out of her way.

Here is the official picture from his Safe Kids I.D. Card

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When filling out the ID Card information, I put my name and middle initial instead of his. Irritating. When I realized it, I changed the name but forgot to change the initial. The card is printed, "Jack B. Griffin." At least I didn't put my height and weight. So, I have to mail in $4.00 extra to get new cards printed and mailed to me. Why must I do everything the hard way?

Swimming with Alli Jean and T.J.

Jack's friend, Alli Jean called us the other day to invite us over for a playdate. I dropped him off and ran some errands. They had a blast.

Alli Jean's mommy, Julie, blogged about the afternoon... click here for some cute pics of their summer swim.

http://allijean.blogspot.com/2007/09/can-jack-come-over.html

Thursday, October 11, 2007

One neat little kid.

Jack Everett, from a very young age, has been able to sit still and concentrate for longer periods of time than most of his peers. We started noticing this as early as four to five months. He had an unusual ability to concentrate on books and we could read several books and he'd sit still, pointing to dozens of items. He would turn pages, and was certain not to skip a page. At six or seven months, well before he was talking, he would crawl and put things away, collect things and put them into a basket. His friends seemed messier, more rowdy, more adventurous, and more active. Jack would just sit still and concentrate.

While we first attributed it to the fact that his mother and father were so interesting and intellectually stimulating, Jeff and I began to more closely monitor this atypical attention span. He preferred things in certain order, organized his books and videos, wanted his room clean, and started certain obsessive behaviors. Again, we just took notice and began to monitor it, but weren't really concerned. One specific example which stands out in my mind is that as soon as we would take off his shoes, he would immediately put one sock in each shoe, carry them to the front door and line them up meticulously. For those of you who witnessed it, you'll remember that it was cute, but elicited a lot of "Hmmm...I wonder why he is so concerned with those being lined up so carefully..." It didn't matter if he'd never been to the house, he'd wander around until he found the corner near the front door. He'd line up magnets on the fridge, line up carrots on his plate, sticks on the playground and blocks and cars at home. This is all before he could really talk.

It became more apparent when he began to talk. We talked to the pediatrician about these behaviors, and he told us it was important not to discipline them, because right now these rituals are important to Jack. This sounds easy, but we'd be leaving the house, and Jack would start to cry because the books weren't put away or because the shoes weren't lined up. I would say, "Let's just leave it, we have to hurry!" He would cry and scream. I wanted to say, "Stop it, that's enough, we HAVE to go!," but I could tell this was really bothering him. I'd sigh, quickly put everything away, then he was ready to go. Just like that. No more tears. (No wonder we were late all the time!)

On another night, I put him in his crib, and he stood there pointing and crying, "Toys, toys!," he screamed. I said, "No, we're not playing with toys, it's time for bed." He said, "No, away, away!" I looked at his toy basket and one toy had fallen out of the basket onto the floor. I picked it up, put it away, and he smiled. He laid down immediately to go to bed. After that, we moved all toys into the guest room so that his sleeping room could be kept perfectly clean so that he felt calm and could rest.

The pediatrician advised not to mess up his order on purpose because that would upset him and he would not understand. For instance, I would give him his crayons in a bucket instead of lined up in the box. He'd take them all out, line them up, and straighten them before he'd even start to color. If I dumped them or used one of his crayons from the middle of the neat row, he'd start to cry. "You messed it up, Mommy!" Tears were shed. If I messed up his perfect row of kitchen magnets or left my shoes laying around, it would not be long before I'd find that they'd all been lined up again on the fridge and at the front door.

Some Moms say, "Man, I wish my kids had this "problem!"" Some laugh, wishing their toddlers would keep such clean rooms. We would agree that it was nice in some ways, but I had read (a lot) about Obsessive-Compulsive disorders in children, and knew that this disrupted children's lives in serious ways, and I could not help but worry about it getting worse. Jack's teacher, when he first went to a public daycare, told me that Jack would not play with the other children on the playground. He would stay near the building and line up rocks and sticks instead. The school had "Nanny cam" and I could watch Jack in his classroom on the internet while I was at work. I could see him, day after day, working alone...lining up Noah's animals along the tables, almost every day.

Well, when Jack Everett got so sick, we stopped focusing on the obsessive sorting and lining things up as much. He was so lethargic and slept so much, and frankly, the house was such a mess duing that time, he didn't have a choice but to begin to accept a little mess and chaos!

As his healing began and his digestion stabilized, we started noticing that some of these behaviors were starting to go away. (Not to imply that there is a correlation there.) He was healthier, stronger, more active, and started being more, well, BOY! Instead of lining up his legos by color and shape, he started making things like rockets and robots. Instead of lining up his cars, he'd race them and take them on adventures. He started doing NORMAL boy things like peeling the wrappers off his crayons and dunking his hot dogs in his milk instead of lining them up on his plate.

While we are no longer fearing an OCD diagnosis, it is still definitely Jack's tendency sort things, line them up, keep them in order, etc. He still has an unusally long attention span for writing, reading, puzzles, etc. but he is able to cope better when the books aren't perfect, if the pillows are crooked on the couch, and if his shoes aren't lined up. The doctor did a test on him at his 3-year check-up that I thought was interesting. He picked up a book and started reading from the middle. While you could tell that Jack wanted to start from the beginning, he just furled his brow, then got over it. The doctor said that while OCD cannot truly be diagnosed until around age 7, most 3-yr-olds suffering from it would not be able to tolerate starting in the middle of a book, or turning pages from right to left.

So many people have said, "You should take pictures of his OCD tendencies in action." Well, I wish we had done it sooner, but here are some examples from the past 2 months.
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We put Jack to bed, and he did not make a peep. We went in to check on him and this is what we had found: These toys were tossed in those two blue bins (empty on left) when we laid him down for the night. Quietly, and in the dark, he had taken them all out, lined them up, and gotten back into bed.


At 3 years and 1 month old, he patiently put this entire alphabet floor puzzle together without assistance. He does not know his letters and the order, he just patiently tried each piece one at a time based on the shapes of the pieces themselves.


I went to take a shower while Jeff was mowing the lawn. I put on a cartoon, but when I came out, this is what I found:

Notice how the cars go from largest to smallest, then start over with the dinos... there is always some sort of order with him.


I told him to put his cars away one night. He said, "Mama, I'm all done, " and this is how neatly he put them away. He keeps them parked like this because he can't handle keeping them in a bucket all dumped in no particular order.


Even when he's playing like a boy, jumping around, his trademark sorting can be seen.


This was his first attempt at a 24 piece puzzle, two weeks before his third birthday. I have posted some of these pics before, but thought I'd point out how he put the puzzle together in sequence.

He started in the lower left-hand corner and worked one row at a time. Most two-year-olds look for the eyes, or a large figure in the center of the puzzle. Jack looks over each piece for that one particular piece and does not move to the next one until he finds it.

He ended in the upper left-hand corner.... every time. I thought that was so interesting.


Today, I can pour out three 24-piece puzzles on the floor, mixed up, and he can put them all together, separately. I'm not bragging; I just think it is fascinating that he will work on something that long and that his concentration and attention span last... I just wish I knew how their brains worked.


Here's a farm scene:


Even at the golf course...


And of course, folding clothes...


On this particular night, Jeff went in to check on him to make sure he was in his bed. Here is what he found, so we grabbed the camera: (Yes, that Pull-up is supposed to be on his hiny, not on his puppy dog. You can see that potty-training was in full swing by the fact that he doesn't even have a sheet - just a mattress pad... we do the best we can.)


So this is a blast from the past, but I remember when I found little Jack, 11 months, after he'd gotten into the Q-tips... I told him he then had to put them all away, and when I came back to check, he had put every single one of them back in the box, in a super neat fashion. I couldn't believe it.


There are more examples where that came from - and lots of pics too - but you get the picture. I figure Jack Everett will enjoy reading about this later and hopefully laughing about it. We make jokes about Jack being OCD, but the more I read, the more I realize that is not a joking matter. Children who suffer from OCD tend to wash their hands uncontrollably, cannot complete school assignments, erase holes through their papers, suffer from depression, etc. We continue to monitor these tendencies, but are starting to think that Jack is just a neat little kid... who like things neat.

Tuesday, October 2, 2007

Strength.

As Christians, we know that as soon as we commit ourselves to something that will make us stronger, bring us closer to God, strengthen our marriages, or build character, Satan is equally committed to making us fail. Jeff and I have witnessed that first-hand this week as I have waged war on food and we started the journey toward becoming a more fit family. I know that getting into better shape will benefit me in many ways, the most important of which is preparing my body for another attempt at healthy pregnancy. We also plan to build stamina and hope to return to playing co-ed sand volleyball, which was how we spent much of our free time while we were dating, and early on in our marriage. Okay, so the bridesmaids dress (see previous blog) plays a teensy weensy part, too.

So, determined to make a change, we joined the gym this week, bought a grill for healthier cooking, and set some goals for working out.

Monday, October 1st - the perfect day to call "Day One." So perfect, in fact, that we skipped the gym September 29th and 30th just so we could start then. Anyway, Sunday, the night before, our air conditioning went out. No kidding. We were roasting the night before and I probably lost a pound just sweating that night. The house registered 92 degrees when I woke up to get ready for work. The A/C guy could not come until Monday night between 4pm and 8pm, right when we had planned to hit the gym. A stumbling block, no doubt, but we were determined. He came out at about 6:30, figured out the problem, reassembled it and we had cool air again.

However, by the time he left, it was already 7:50pm, when most of my fellow Moms are putting their toddlers into bed. Oh no, not the Griffins! We loaded up the Honda and took Jack to the gym! I came out in my biker shorts and tank top and Jack said, "Why are you wearing that? Are we going swimming?" I realized that this kid has never seen his Mama in workout clothes.

Driving over there, I felt so proud of us. We were victorious. We had all worked all day (Preschool is hard work for little ones!), had dinner at home, waited for the A/C guy, and still made it to the gym as a family. I did 40 minutes of cardio and Jeff lifted weights. We finished up with some abs. When we went to pick up Jack and he was the only little kiddo left in there. The Kids' Club closes at 9pm. His friends were all bathed and nestled in their beds at home, but he was pushing a truck, racing around the huge room with ALL THE TOYS to himself, totally sweating, and lovin' every minute of it! We signed him out at 8:59, as they turned the lights out and locked up behind us.

I am so proud of us. The first day is the hardest.
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Today, October 2nd, "Day Two" was not as hard. Jack and I went by ourselves tonight. It was funny... all the chubby people on the ellipticals and treadmills were working out watching "The Biggest Loser" and all the skinny people were working out to "Dancing with the Stars." I won't tell you which one I was watching.

It was funny... We were walking in holding hands and Jack looks up at me and says, "Why are we going to the gym?" I said, "Mommy is going to get some exercise." "Is it 'cause you twisted your ankle?" I replied, "No, Daddy exercises because he hurt his ankle, but Mommy just wants to lose some weight." He turns to me, pokes his finger into my stomach, and says, "Right there?" I said, "Well, as a matter of fact, yes." He immediately replies, without expression, "Good."

Thanks a lot, Jack.
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If you have ever tried to lose weight, you know that it is as spiritual and emotional as it is physical. So tonight, I leave you with a quote from my new bookstore purchase, "Devotions for Dieters: A 365-day Guide to a Lighter You." No, I am not joking.

"It requires great strength to diet: strength of will, strength of character, and strength of mind. It takes a great deal of wisdom to admit that we don't possess all the strength we need on our own. Somehow we must tap into a greater source of strength; That source is Jesus Christ. His strength never wavers and never fails. The amazing thing about the strength of Christ is that it is freely offered to everyone who asks for it. When we feel the weakest, this is when we are most open to the strength of Christ."

Stay tuned...