Breaking Up Is Hard To Do.

This word "obedience" has come up a lot lately (for Dustin and i in many areas of our lives.) I know the lord is calling us to a season of change, growth, maturity, obedience and pruning off of us what is dead so new-fresh branches can grow. Seasons come and go, but this process should be a constant, even if we "feel" stagnant, God is always in the business of molding our hearts more to the shape of His.

One of my least favorite things to deal with as I train up my toddler to become a functioning human person in society is delayed obedience. If I tell you to do something, don't argue and putts around looking off in the other direction-with your tiny finger in your tiny cute nose, ignoring my words! "Look at me in my eyes & listen to my words!" Is what I say to my son when he tests my patience with his delayed obedience as i try to discipline. It is the most frustrating thing in the world! My skin gets warm, i feel the rage start to bubble up in my spirit, & I feel myself desire to squeeze his twiggy little arms. (If you've never experienced this as a parent, you're a robot OR you're just a whole lot more patient than I!)

Delayed obedience makes me twitch and shake! It makes me want to scream! That's when I have to take a deep breath and pray for an intervention! Please Jesus, intervene because my flesh wants to open a can of whoop some two year old ass at the moment! CAN I GET A WITNESS? BUT, this is what training kids is. Over and over and over we say, "Use your big boy words! Don't whine." and, "Don't pick your nose and wipe it on your sisters cheek!" (Lord help me!) and, "Share with your friend!" and my favorite, "You kick my seat one more time and do that annoying screech again and I will pull this car over and spank your bottom!" You like that one? Good stuff right?! My life is real glamorous!

Delayed obedience: Not responding to authority immediately.

That's what I've been doing to God. Not responding immediately to authority and doing my own thing. I've been picking my nose and wiping it on stuff like a two year old, just because I think I'm boss. But that's not really how this relationship works, me and god. I don't get to just wipe boogers on everything and act like a two year old.

God told me to quit a job that I was working at, (at a church when Dustin & I got married 6 years ago) but I didn't listen and a few weeks later, because I didn't listen to him when he gave me direction, I was consequently fired from that job. The reason was absolutely silly, which leads me to believe that it was a "god" thing. He was telling me, "If you don't obey and do as I say, I will remove you myself." Ouch. He was giving me the choice to do what was asked of Him and I chose not to listen, thus was removed from that job. (cuz' He knows some stuff about what's best for me.... no big deal, He's just the god of the whole universe.) Getting myself kicked to the curb from a job that I really loved, for a silly reason hurt. But he had GREATER things for me that I was missing out on. It's always better to listen the first time, I've learned. It could have saved me from a lot of heart ache.

Telling a toddler, "You need to listen the FIRST time!" is a hard concept, but one, I believe they can catch onto (eventually). A friend told me recently, "Don't treat Conrad like a baby. He's not a baby. He understands. What, are you going to wait til' he's five until you start training him to do what you want? At that point, you could reason with him more and it won't be such a fight? No, then it's too late."

God has been showing me that to be the kind of wife that my husband deserves and the kind of mother my kids need, I have to sacrifice my life for them in a different way. The proverbs 31 wife gets up before her family rises and gets the day prepared for them. She puts their needs above hers. I want to be that wife & Mom. (anyone who says the bible is outdated and not accurate needs to bust that shiz out because I find that it relates to my life on a daily basis. hash tag alert #justsayin)

Ahem..... back onto what I was saying. During new years, sitting at the table with my family, I asked everyone what their new years resolutions were or what their goals were for 2012. We all went around and said what our goals were. Mine was to be a better manager of my home. That's a great goal to work towards, but I don't believe that was what God's vision is for me this year, entirely. My Dad said that his goal that the lord has been convicting him of is Idolatry. He wants to get rid of his idols this year. The things he cherishes more than Jesus, the things that vie for his affections, he wants to be freed from those things. As he, in his humility, spoke about laying down his life for God and taking up his cross daily to follow Jesus more closely, I felt a heaviness in my heart, like God was saying, "I want that for you too."


One of my biggest idols is the Internet. I love pinterest, facebook, blogs etc. I have used facebook to connect with moms and get advice & I love looking at my friends cute kids & getting yummy recipes from pinterest and cute ideas to decorate my house, but it can distract me from what's important. It can make me feel discontent & take up time that I could be using to love my family better. (cleaning, meal planning, organizing, & working on Conrad's pre-school curriculum.)

A recent conversation with my husband:
Dustin: Did we have an earth quake while I was at work that I wasn't aware of? This place looks tore up.
Me:  Um, well, I spent nap time watching this really amazing birth video and looking on pinterest and chatting with my friend on fb and catching up with my blog friends then I took a shower and then BAM! The kids woke up...! Ooopsies. (cute smiling and batting eye lashes.) 
Dustin: that's wonderful honey, but I don't have clean socks......

Like, he's right. It's not all about me. I get it. My home is my job and it's not always an easy breezy beautiful cover girl type of gig. It's hectic. It's art class on Monday, play dates through out the week, nap schedules, grocery shopping, meal planning, folding 10 loads of laundry a week, home schooling Conrad, photography jobs & gymboree class on Friday. My kids are on a pretty tight schedule. We don't sit on our pj's all day watching Elmo. Keeping your head above water isn't easy, so sometimes it's nice to pretend that all of these tasks don't really exist and escape mentally from it all. (Hash tag allert) #pinterestismyboyfriend #pinterest=procrastination #pinterestmakesmeabadwife

I believe God put it on my heart to take a break from media all together a while back after watching {THIS} but I've been picking my nose and wiping it on stuff, ignoring his words, his voice, his nudgings because I love the things that bring me pleasure more than I love serving my family and making their lives easier (i.e. folding socks and managing my home.) It's shameful to admit. (I kind of doubt that I'm alone in these feelings though.)

So I'm taking a month long (gulp) break from my boyfriend "the Internet" and all of his sleazy, slutty, adulterous ways that have been making me whore myself all over the inter web (hypothetically speaking) and giving my attention and affections to an idol that can't lift me to the place that I need to be as a mother and wife. Only Jesus can purify and refine me. I just received this fantastic book to read through with my friend Randi for the next 90 days, and I can't wait to get my focus back and spend this time with the one who can revive me.

PLUS, my husband has been wearing the same socks for a week now.... so yeah, there's that part too.

Conrad has been sleeping in his big boy bed for 3 days now. He falls out every night but we put pillows down so the thud isn't as severe.....It's kind of sad but he's almost 3, so I know it's time! 

{See you in a month, sleaz-a-licious Interwebby boyfriend face.}

Ps, If you need me, you can reach me by email at crobbins223@gmail.com 
I will still be posting over on my photography blog.
A girls' gotta work Y'all.

{An American Missionary Births In Africa} Jenny's Story:

I am so thrilled to share this story with you guys today. One of the hottest pregnant ladies who has ever walked the planet (I can say that because she's my friend.....) is sharing her birth story today! It's pretty entertaining & unique. Enjoy! 

I found out I was pregs at a crazy time in our life. We had been married two years, and yet we were already “parents” to seventeen middle and high school girls. Let me back it up. My husband John and I both grew up overseas. My parents were missionaries in Hong Kong, and John’s Dad worked for an air-conditioning company in Malaysia. We met in the sixth grade when I started going to boarding school there to get an American education. Don’t you fret, it was an awesome experience. Better than awesome. I can’t imagine not going to the school we did. We were surrounded by loving dorm parents and teachers, and best of all, we got to live with our friends 24/7. It was like summer camp on crack. Amazing. But ANYWAY, after re-meeting in college, and eventually getting married and moving to Vegas, we never expected God to call us to WORK in a boarding school in West Africa. But…in God’s crazy way, he did…and we jumped at the chance! 

Nothing could have prepared us for being dorm parents. Even though I spent 6^th-12^th grade in the boarding program, being on the other side of the fence was completely different. We had great girls (for the most part), but like kids anywhere, they had their drama, their issues, and their needs, and we struggled through our first year learning how to meet them. So you can IMAGINE our surprise when we found out we were going to have a newborn on top of having seventeen teenagers! As you can guess, little Levi wasn’t “planned” (by us anyway), but obviously, he was a huge surprise and the girls were just as excited as if they were his real older sisters. We were excited to have seventeen babysitters on hand at a moment’s notice =0)

Our doctor was a wonderful Senegalese woman, named Dr. Ba. I was so happy she was a woman- I’ve just always been more comfortable with women doctors, especially when it has a lot to do with my vajay-jay…which giving birth does. =0)  Our biggest concern was the language barrier and Dr. Ba kept insisting that her English was poor. So for our first few visits to her office, we brought our French-speaking friends along to translate- not the most ideal situation, but you gotta do what you gotta do. When we finally braved it and went alone, we realized that Dr. Ba actually spoke much more English than she let on. Most of our sessions were done in a mix of English, French, and lots of body language. I know it may seem crazy to a lot of people, but somehow, we made it work.

People always ask me what it was like to give birth in Africa, and I always tell them, “It was great- and I’d do it again in a heartbeat!” Sure I had to drive down a dirt road filled with potholes to get an ultra-sound (I actually thought I was going to go into labor near the end just driving down that road!). Sure I had to get monthly blood tests because of all the diseases and things that comes along with living in West Africa. Sure I couldn’t take a single birthing class because there weren’t any in English. 

In many ways, though, not having all of the fancy equipment and all of the fuss, made the whole birthing experience really…simple.  

A week after my due date, after lots of walking and everything else pregnant woman try to do to get their baby out! ha!, I finally got contractions one afternoon. They came on throughout the day, and by supper time, surrounded by all of our dorm girls, I finally was getting to the point where I was uncomfortable and wanted to be alone. Around 8:30, with my nerdy (gotta love him) husband was graphing, yes graphing, how far apart my contractions were, we finally called up our friends and let them know we were on our way to the hospital. I quickly finished putting up some birthday decorations for one of our dorm girls, resting in between contractions. All of the girls were at the school play, so we texted them, left a note on the white board, and headed out. We drove down the bumpy, dirt roads (yes, ouch by this point) and made it to the hospital by 9:30 pm. When we went inside, there wasn’t a soul around. My husband actually had to go searching for a doctor, a nurse, a security guard…anyone! He finally found a couple of nurses and they took me to the delivery room. By this point I was in some major pain, so you can imagine how pissed I was when they told me I was only dilated 3 cm! “You’ve got to be f’ing joking me!” I think I said…or at least thought. (Even though I wasn't where I hoped I would have been in labor, I was still very glad to have gotten to labor comfortably at home, with my husband.) 

The next hour or so is a little bit of a blur. I know I was doubled over with contractions and that the doctor came in to give me the epidural I wanted. However, after giving it to me, I rolled over, making the medicine go only to one side. It’s weird to explain, but half my body was numb, and the other half was feeling everything! Bizarre! While there were a couple of nurses around, my doctor still hadn’t show up, and ended up getting there just in time.

As I said before, I hadn’t had any birthing classes, and very little preparation for the big day. Like many first time births, I kind of went into it with a lot of fear and questions, but at the same time knowing that I could do it. Honestly, the one thing that kept me going was thinking, “African women have babies all the time in little dirt huts with no medical help, no doctors, no pain killers…look how cushy I have it! You can DO this! Billions of women have done this!” I picked a focal point in the room (the air conditioner) and when Dr. Ba said push, push I did. I know at one point I turned to my husband and said, “I can’t do this, “  and then to my doctor, “The epidural is NOT working!!!!!” Deep inside though, I knew I COULD do it, and I knew I HAD to do it. Levi’s head ended up getting stuck in the birth canal, and not only did they have to use forceps, one of the nurses actually got ON TOP OF ME AND PUSHED ON MY STOMACH with her entire body weight to get him out. Oh, and did I mention that I was laying naked by open windows on the second floor, with a myriad of fruit vendors and phone card guys hanging out on the street below. So yeah…everyone got a show from the crazy, screaming white lady that night.  My mother (who is a nurse), told me she had never seen anything like it. I screamed my lungs out, not so much from pain, but from not being able to breathe! That was a crazy moment…but in a matter of seconds, Levi was resting on my tummy, his skin on mine, and I was looking at the most beautiful, little blessing.

I could not believe that I got to the hospital at 9:30 pm and by 11:15 pm, I had a baby! I had heard that it normally took hours and hours for a first time birth, but somehow, I got really lucky! My husband had to run across to the pharmacy and buy me some of the gigantic pads, because in Senegal, they don’t provide anything for you- you bring your pads, diapers for the baby,…everything. My time at the hospital was really great. I seriously wanted to stay there forever. The staff were amazing, the food was amazing (no lie), and we had electricity 24 hours a day! I did not want to go home! One of my fondest memories is when the “milk nurse” came in and asked me if my milk had come in yet. “I don’t think so,” I said cluelessly. Squeezing my boobs as hard as she could, she exclaimed, “YES! You have!”

Now maybe to some of you, this does kind of sound like a crazy birth story, but it honestly went so much more smoothly than I expected. Now that I’ve learned a lot more about natural birth, it is definitely something I will try next time around (i.e.- the end of July when our next baby is due). I honestly went into my first birth SO clueless, but I think it just goes to show that birth is so natural.  Your body was created to do this! So even though birthing classes and books and websites are super helpful, even the most unprepared of women can have a healthy birth- I’m living proof! 

{Announcing pregnancy #2} 

Speaking on her behalf.

Lately, Everything is,

"Sissy doesn't like your show Mommy! Sissy said you should turn it off!"

"Mom, sister wants me to get that new Chuggington DBD!"

"Elle doesn't want to eat you boob Mom, she wants gummy bears! With me!"

"Elle pickin' her nose mom! I saw'ed her doin' it Mom!! I tell her NO Elle!!"

"Can we go ride the carousel, sissy will ride a horsey too!"

"Mom, Sister tell me we going to Target today! She did, Mom! We goin'!"

"Elle likes when I draw on her belly with my markers mom! She likes it!"

"Sissy not go ni-night. She gunna do polar bear puzzle with me!"

As we get ready for our Target trip, I ask Conrad if we should leave Elle at home and go together just us two and he panics. "No mommy! Get Elle!" Get her mom. Don't leave her, she needs us!"

We're all laying on the bed in our pj's last night and Conrad leans over to hug Elle and whispers, "I love you so much baby. I love you so much."

I love how he speaks on her behalf and tells me what she wants or needs.
       Even if it's mostly what HE wants or needs.....
It makes my heart so happy.

Baby pits, buttons & knee fat!

{Can't get enough of it.}

Damara's {VHBA2C} Home birth after TWO Cesareans!

Damara's story is AH-Mazing. I welled up with tears several times.

Her strength, her determination, & her beauty is simply awe inspiring. 

Throughout my entire pregnancy I read countless birth stories. I ooooh’ed and awwww’ed over them. They inspired me. I couldn’t wait to write my birth story and share the experience. Here is my birth story……

When Mike and I found out we were expecting, I'll be honest, home birth was not our first choice. We made our OB appointment just like any other individual would. Days up to that I knew for a fact I did want to a vaginal delivery which meant I'd be asking my OB for a VBA2C. We went to our first OB appointment and as we waited I thought about all the questions I had for my VBAC. I was so excited and couldn’t wait to share with my OB. After the usual pee in a cup, scale, vaginal check she sat me up and asks any more questions? With her hand on the door ready to walk out. I proceed to ask for a VBAC. Without even an explanation or thought told me NO and continued on to tell me that I needed to consider tying my tubes because I couldn’t continue having multiple c-sections.

I was utterly shocked, I just said okay and she walks out. I get dressed. I don’t make another appointment and I walk out. I instantly hopped onto the Internet and Google search overload. At this point, I’m searching for OBs in town that do VBA2C (vaginal birth after two previous cesarean births). I’m reading the hospitals view on how dangerous it was. I start to get discouraged thinking this was it, I wasn’t going to be able to deliver vaginally. I was going to have another c-section and HATED the thought of it. Until I come across Ricki Lake’s documentary, The Business of Being Born. I read all the raves about home birth after a c-section. I was instantly hooked, I wanted to know more.

Mike sat and watched this documentary with me. We were amazed! I looked at him and KNEW I want a home birth! He was skeptical at first, until we met our beautiful and amazing midwife. Jill Colin was referred to me by more than one person. I set up my consultation and in the days leading up to our appointment I read on and on about birth. I became obsessed with it. Meeting Jill was a godsend. Mike was on board after our 2 hour appointment. Yes, ladies you heard right, 2 hours!!!! Tell me about a time you sat with your OB for 2 hours! She answered every concern and was on board with what we wanted to do.

We walked out Jill's office with the biggest smiles on our faces. I was going to do it! I was going to have a home birth! Even after my two previous cesarean births, we were going to attempt to have the birth that I always hoped for. Our appointments came and went each month lasting no less than 2 hours. Jill was involved not with just the pregnancy, she knew Mike, she knew me and she knew the kids. She wasn’t just a provider, she became our family. She got me ready by addressing my physical health & the baby's, but also worked to heal me from my previous experiences. She was concerned about the psychological aspects, the physical, emotional & spiritual aspects of birth. (She had another midwife, Kathya Delguila share in our birth experience and prenatal care. She was amazing as well.)

On Sunday October 30th, 2011, at night, I started having contractions, which I will soon learn are nothing compared to what I was going to endure. I got no sleep that night. Monday comes, I have a long list of things to do but dropping off Gavin at school was the only thing that got done that day. I came home and laid in bed and worked through one contraction at a time which at this point are anywhere from 7 to 10 minutes apart not lasting anymore than 30 seconds. It was Halloween day so I was not ready to call the midwife and yell LABOR! I couldn’t jip my kids out of trick or treating. I knew leading up to labor day that I wanted to try and have the "pity me, this hurts! I’m ready to deliver!" mindset so I wanted to make sure when the time came, it was definitely the right time. The day goes by and that night we trick or treat. After almost 2 hours of trick or treating and still having contractions, I was ready to call it a night. 


We get the kids ready for bed who are no where near ready with their sugar high. Gavin passes out, Makayla on the other hand does not. Now, on any other day Makayla is a terror to put to sleep. This Halloween night was different...It's almost like she knew it was happening. I never showed my contractions on my face. No one, not even my sister who went trick or treating with us knew I was having contractions. Makayla wanted nothing but to lay with me, rub me, kiss me. And as the contractions drew closer together and lasting longer, I knew it was time.

Mike called Jill at around 11 pm as I tried to put Makayla to sleep. Finally, kids are asleep and I head downstairs, Mike with the most anxious look in his face is setting up the birth tub. I go back upstairs and get into something a little more comfortable. At this point, Jill has arrived with her wonderful sister, Gina, who also became a big part of the birth team that lead to my beautiful birth. I head back downstairs to everyone setting up to deliver a baby.  I lay on the couch listening to Jill, Gina and Mike goofing off like they always do. I hear the water filling up the birth tub and I hear my head telling me, "You can do this, Damara! This is it, you've got this".

At around 12:30 am on 11-1-11, Jill checks me to see my progression. I wasn't dialated much. At that moment, I won't lie I wanted to cry. I thought, "Well, what the hell is going on!!" Jill gave me the choice to keep her with me or send her home and she would come back in the AM. I decided to keep her with me. Her and Gina head up to my room to catch whatever shut eye they can before the big show. Mike rubs my back as the contractions come and go. Jill headed down the stairs and checked me again and I showed a little progression but not a lot. I was already really exhausted at this point after being up for over 24 hours. I decided I wanted to lay down and TRY to sleep. As I lay there I got one really intense contraction and 2:30 am a POP and a GUSH my water breaks. I say, "I'm pretty sure my water just broke". This is when it gets intense.

Contractions are now 2 minutes apart lasting a minute, giving me only one minute between each contraction to regroup. Jill assured me that this was the start of something and told me to let her know when my body feels like pushing. Mike fed me a banana, spoonfuls of honey and water to get my energy back. About 45 minutes later, I realize my body starting to push. I looked at Mike and said, "This is it!". He looks at me and tells me he loves me as he pushes my messy hair out of my face and kisses me. I hopped in the water and Mike calls my sister to let her know that we were in labor (she lives 4 houses down). She comes over and relieves Mike for a little. She is holding my hand and pouring water on my neck and back putting warm rags on my head. I squeeze her hand with every contraction. I allow my body to push on its own. As much pain as I was in, I was so excited that the day had finally came.

Things became very hazy at this point. I didn’t do much, if any at all, talking at this point. If anyone heard a word out of me it was a soft oooohhhh or ahhhhhh through contractions. Any communication I used was a nod yes or no. Kat arrived around 6:30 am and this was when I really started pushing. I was not comfortable in the birth tub. I sat on the birth stool most of my labor. With each contraction, I pushed 3 small pushes. Daxton's heart rate dropped each time but after would come back up. I remember at this moment thinking, "This is what lead to me to my first c-section, please don’t let it happen again!". I spent about an hour and 45 minutes pushing in the birth tub with Kat and Jill rotating massaging him out while Gina and Mike rotating holding me. Melvia (my sister) was getting Gavin ready for school and taking both the kids with her. When I say I was in a haze, I was so much that I sent Gavin to school without thinking about his baby brother being born I should keep him home. HAHA. I looked up at him before he left that day gave him a kiss and followed with a push.

I was thankful he got to see what he did see. As much as I wanted the kids to see the whole birth process I was very thankful for my sister to take them when she did. Shortly after they left to drop Gavin off, Daxtons heart was lost. Jill looked at me and said its time to get this baby out. This whole time, I was not forcefully pushing Daxton out but allowing my body to push him out. Mike was behind me the whole time. I held his hands and listened to his encouraging words he repeated over and over. "I love you honey, I'm so proud of you, you can do this". Jill tells me to give it my everything next contraction! I squeeze down on Mike and push 4 pushes. His head is OUT. Jill grabs my hands and has me feel him. He was quiet. I cried silently because I knew I wasn’t done.

Mike tells me, "Common honey his head is out you've got this". There was so much excitement and love in the room. One more push later, my beautiful baby is born at 9:28am on 11-1-11. He had a short cord which was reasoning behind his heart being so up and down during the labor. So while we let the cord continue pulsing before it was cut, my baby lays on my lower stomach and Mike is behind me telling me how great I did and how beautiful he is as we look down at him and Mike cries. I surprisingly didn’t. I was so on that labor high that I smiled down at his beautiful face and mentally gave myself a pat on the back for not only having a vaginal birth but doing it 100% naturally. Mike felt down at his cord and felt blood continue into our baby's body. I felt his skin full of vernix so soft. Mike then is able to cut his cord and Daxton is then brought up to my chest and Mike and I have minutes of just looking at him, skin on skin with mommy and daddy. Shortly after I push out my placenta. I replayed my emergency c-section with Gavin and my planned c-section with Makayla at this moment and realize just how cheated I was with those previous births. Our experience at home was incredibly different. I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Mike is with baby and Jill as they check him over and get him cleaned up a little. Kat is with me showing me my placenta (which is pretty much the coolest thing you’ll see). I lay on the couch and the fun begins. They weigh him 8 pounds even! They measure him 19 ½ inches! Perfect and healthy. I delivered my baby at home safely, without intervention and drug free. One of the greatest accomplishments of my life. My baby was mine to hold, no one was taking him from me. No one was checking me a million times. It was Mike, Daxton and Me. Our love was reassured at this moment. I had never felt closer to my husband. Mike was such an amazing support through everything. He made me as comfortable as I could have been at every moment. He got into the most uncomfortable positions to better my position. Now I'd be lying if I told you it didn’t hurt. Because it did hurt, in fact it hurt more than anything I’ve ever experienced. But it was worth it. Worth the drugs not touching my unborn child, worth the experience of being able to deliver vaginally.

Home birth was the hardest thing I’ve ever done but the most rewarding thing also. I really had to FIGHT for the experience I wanted. Now here I am 3 weeks later and I can definitely tell you that I wouldn’t of birthed any other way. I now realize that birth is not an illness, it's not a risk…. it’s the most natural thing a woman could ever do. I'm asked all the time now, would you do it again?  

My answer, again and again and again is HELL YES! 

His Ear Is Not Deaf To My Voice.

A week ago I asked God to give me new eyes this year, a new vision, a new perspective, a new word, a new anointing, a new ministry, a new desire, a new heart, a newness of life. During this time of prayer the word "new" kept coming up. I kept saying, new new new I need a new____________. Over and over.

One of last years lessons was that His arms aren't too short, his ears are not deaf to my voice,  he doesn't disappoint. If I can choose to have faith and believe him for who he, If I can muster the faith, He will glady reach out his arm and put my desires right into my hand. If I've learned anything, I've learned that his ear is not deaf to my voice. Even if my words are few, his ear hears what my heart says.

After a few months of walking through a drought with god, I believe the cloud of grey has washed away and the Vail of fog over my eyes has been lifted. It's like I woke up one morning and knew what I wanted. The vision, the desire, the hope, the newness was suddenly no longer a longing or idea-a prayer, it was reality.

There is nothing in this whole world that I've ever felt like I was made to do (other than serve my husband & kiddlets & be a daughter of the Lord....) than help other woman gain the tools necessary to birth. Nothing excites me more than seeing a woman experience natural childbirth. Nothing. Those tiny moments when everyone in the rooms hearts are beating so hard you could hear it, nothing else going outside of what's happening in those moments matters, the air is thick with love, anticipation, excitement, & adrenaline. There is a sense of holiness lingering. Eyes are wet with tears. You look at the mother and her hair is drenched in sweat, she is focused on the prize, her baby. Your heart hurts because you know that she's feeling everything, you wish you could take that pain away, but you know that her PAIN BRINGS LIFE! She is working hard and working with her baby. She is on the journey with her baby-they are experiencing every single contraction together. Every time she feels a rush, her baby also feels a tightness around it's body as her body works to give birth. There is something magical about this relationship during the birth process. Birth is a drug.

It is.

When I was looking for a doula, I was really specific with God with what my requirements were. I needed a praying doula. I needed a doula who loved Jesus and knew that birth was much more than just pushing a baby out. It was a spiritual thing just as much as it was a physical thing. I was blessed to be led to a church (with many like minded woman who are passionate about birth) and was blessed to be invited to photograph & pray during Carrington's birth. Her birth changed the idea of natural birth for me in a big way. My fear was replaced with excitement and eagerness to experience it myself.

After she had her baby and was snuggled in with her new family upstairs in bed, I was chatting with her doula as they were cleaning and working and I said, "You seriously have the best job in the world!" She replied, "I know." Having a praying friend who acted as my doula during my labor saved me. It seriously SAVED me from letting my mind say, "I'm done! Take me to the hospital and numb me up! I can't do it!" It saved me from having thoughts that something horrible was going to happen, or that the people surrounding me were not equipped to handle any situation during my birth. She was incredible. To say "thank you" to my midwife or Carrington seems like it's not sufficient. In return for what they've done for me, I hope to repay them by doing the same for other woman.

So that is my prayer, my desire, my longing, to be a praying-Jesus loving-birth junky-doula. I want to minister to other woman and show them that they're a lot stronger than they ever imagined they could be! I want to be that beacon of strength for another woman like Carrington was for me during my birth.

He is telling me, urging me, responding to my longings with affirmation after affirmation to keep dreaming and pursuing what life would look like If I became a doula/birth educator. He is telling me to ask BIG of him. He's not done with this passion that he's given me for birth. He is telling me that birth is much more than just pushing a baby out! It is a spiritual thing, a holy thing. After lots of prayer and counsel from friends, I will be starting this journey to become a doula this March. Eeeeekkkk!!!!! I'm scared & excited but feels so right. It feels right to put those words out there and own them. This is going to be a great journey.

His hand is not too short.
His ear is not deaf to my voice.
He said to ask big of him.
    I'm asking big.

{Can you believe Elliotte Rosalee is 5 months already?}

What an old lady! 

She is a midwife in Africa 

& I am completely addicted to her blog.

Check it out! 

Emery's Natural {Hospital Birth}:

 I am VERY excited to share Emery's birth story of her 3rd gorgeous little man, Truman. I have been following her blog for 3 years now and It has been an incredible blessing to be ministered to by such an amazing woman of God every time I read her blog. If you don't follow her blog, you must! She is hilarious, her words are thought provoking, honest & raw. She loves Jesus and shares so openly about raising kids & lessons learned about marriage. Also, she is seriously the thrift store queen! She's such a little fashionista who always inspires me to think outside the box when it comes to putting outfits together! While I was pregnant with Conrad, I read Emery's birth story and knew that I wanted to attempt a natural birth. So, thank you, sweet friend, for helping birth this passion for birth in my heart! 

Save her blog  to your favorites! You'll be glad you did. 

Wednesday AM, I woke up and felt pretty normal. Except for the fact that I seemed to be... um... PEEING MYSELF every few minutes. haha. It wasn't a whole lot, but every once in a while there would be "a small outpouring", if you will.

I went back and forth in my head about whether to mention this oddity to my husband. I envisioned the conversation going something like this:

Me: "Hi honey! Um, not much to report today, except that I maybe might be peeing my pants!"

Him: *UTTER SILENCE AND MORTIFICATION*

So, I decided to wait it out and see if the situation would remedy itself on its own.

I went to Barnes & Noble with Myer and chatted with some moms who were there with their kids and had a great time. I continued to debate whether I should mention my possible peeing plight to Chris, and finally called him on my way home and filled him in.

He told me to call my midwife, like a smart human being would.

Around noon, I called the office (and ended up talking to my friend Christi, who is a nurse there!) and she told me to come in due to the fact that I tested positive for Group B Strep. They wanted to check if it was amniotic fluid.

Chris left work to come be with Myer at the house so I could drive myself down to the midwive's office and get checked out. I kept telling him it was assuredly NOTHING and that I would be right back.

At 2:00 in the afternoon, I saw a midwife. I told her I was pretty sure my bladder had just kicked the bucket after all this baby-growing business. She checked me and swabbed me and immediately told me that it was amniotic fluid and I needed to go ahead and check in to the hospital next door and get ready to have my baby.

I was in COMPLETE shock. I think I said something eloquent like, "Wait, you said whaaaaa?!?"

Then things got hectic.

I had to go check-in at the hospital, but I had accidentally brought the keys to the car with me to the office (I had driven Chris' truck) so now Chris had no way to drive down to meet me. I would have to drive back home, even in my shaky, leaky state.

I envisioned what I would say if I got pulled over. Something along the lines of "Hi, officer! You may not believe me when I tell you this, but I'm apparently in labor!" Maybe he'd escort me, like in the movies, with his sirens blaring, and we could show up to the hospital in style.

No such luck.

Chris called his mom and asked her to pick up Ezra from school and then he ran Myer over to our neighbor's house until his mom could get back to our house and pick Myer up too. I got back home and Chris and I threw some last minute things in the car and drove back down to the hospital.

No contractions yet. Just waves of disbelief. With both of my previous labors, I had showed up to the hospital in pain and it was all a blur. This time, I was laughing and chatting with nurses and filling out paperwork and feeling silly for sitting in a hospital bed while I wasn't even in LABOR. It was such a different experience!!

By the time I got all checked in, it was probably 3:30 in the afternoon. I needed to get my antibiotic drip started (for the Group B Strep) and that took a good 5 hours when all was said and done, because they give you two rounds of it 4 hours apart.

This was a bit stressful because if my body didn't kick into gear before 9:00pm, they would have to start a pitocin drip. Once your water breaks (or starts leaking, apparently), they don't like to go more than 12 hours before they step in to get things going because of the risk of Group B Strep infection for your baby. I was trying not to be too anxious about all of this, and just kept praying that God would keep my mind focused on Him and His perfect timing.

During that time, my dear friend and neighbor and previous Bradley Instructor, Nikki, came to the hospital to be with us to help out during the delivery. Contractions were slight and irregular at this point. I was only 2cm dilated. I was trying everything I could to get my contractions going.

pitocin. I only had until 9:00pm before they were going to intervene.

The last antibiotic drip was done just before 9:00pm.

My midwife, Leanna, showed up then too to check me and see if my body had been progressing on its own at all.

She checked me and told me I was 4cm dilated.

I was disappointed in the lack of progress, but she said it was enough and that she was going to just let my body keep doing what it was doing- no pitocin necessary.

Hallelujah!

Right after that, my contractions started coming much stronger and much more regularly. They were still all very manageable though, and I was able to keep talking to Chris and Nikki and we were laughing and eating Snickers bars and snapping lots of iPhone pictures in true nerd fashion.

I walked around and sat on a birthing ball and squatted through the pain of the contractions.

Around 11:00pm, I had 3 or 4 suddenly INTENSE contractions, to where I was moaning and having trouble breathing calmly, and the contractions were lasting for 2 minutes at a time. Yikes. Leanna decided she needed to check me again.

She took one look and asked if I was ready to have my baby. It was all happening so rapidly, so quickly... I could barely move or breathe or grasp what was going on.

After another incredibly intense contraction, I felt a burning sensation, and suddenly the nurses and Leanna and Chris were all telling me that THE BABY'S HEAD WAS OUT.

I hadn't even pushed, and my baby's head was out?!?! My body had done all the work for me... had ejected this baby without so much as a conscious effort on my part.

I didn't believe them at first, but after one more contraction, my new baby was laying on my belly, hardly making a sound and looking right up into my eyes. He was so... peaceful! He didn't even cry. He was the perfect pink color and he was gazing up at me like he'd known me all his life. :)

We all exploded with joy and I was filled with such relief that the hard part was OVER. It took me a few seconds to realize that I didn't know if this baby was a girl or a boy, and after a moment I remembered to ask Chris what it was.

"It's another boy!", he beamed.

And just like I thought it would be, in that moment of elation and new life and release, that bit of information was like music to my ears. It felt right and good and awesome, and my heart was completely filled with love for my new SON. He was finally in my arms, and he was the most beautiful little newborn I had ever seen.

Truman Arthur.

  {If he had been a girl, he would have been Dagny Jane.}

 It was 11:15pm. Two hours after my contractions had really kicked into gear. Truman & I stared at each other in wonder for a few minutes until I brought him up higher into my arms and he latched on and started nursing right away like a champ.

****************************** 

Once again, this birth has made me feel stronger and more confident and more empowered than I could have ever imagined. I went into this labor with a lot of trepidation. I didn't feel as prepared or excited about natural childbirth as I had been before I had Myer. Part of me felt like I had done the "natural thing" twice already, and maybe this time around I should just get numbed up and drugged up and get it over with as painlessly as possible. I had NO motivation. I had tried to watch labor videos and read natural birthing stories to psych myself up again, but I mostly just felt... tired. Weary. Unexcited about the coming birth. And I felt horrible about that.

And yet, I did it!!

I had amazing support set up around me at the hospital, I had educated myself about the truth and benefits of natural birth, about my choices and my voice in the matter, and then I let my body do just what it was created to do. Looking back now, of course, I am SO glad that I allowed myself to feel the pain and intensity of the process of labor again. There is no other experience in life that has made me feel more alive, more certain of who I am and what I can do and accomplish in this life that I've been given. There has been no other experience that has propelled me as strongly to acknowledge God's holiness and sovereignty in this world and in my very own body. It is simply awe-inspiring, and I am grateful that I was able to have that adventure with Him again- grateful to be brought to a place of such pain and weakness only be carried safely through it, and be strengthened down to my core by it all over again. 

What a fearfully wonderful thing!! 

Thank you God for little Truman! He's as sweet as a lollipop, and worth every moment of labor!  :)  

Read her second son, Myer's birth story {here}

It too is one of my favorite birth stories. 

So This Is Christmas + Give-a-way Winner Announced!

First off, HAPPY NEW YEAR! The anticipation of what the new year holds, the blessings, the lessons, the memories yet to be made, makes my heart happy to imagine. God has been so good to us this year. 

Dustin had 10 days off for Christmas vacation which was SO terribly needed, for BOTH of us! We'd been looking forward to this break for a very long time. It was so nice to have him here with us to play all day and do fun things as a family. Yesterday morning, one of my favorite movies to watch as a kid was on. Clueless. I think Clueless is where my love for all things Paul Rudd started. My sisters & I knew every single line from that movie, and apparently SO does Dustin. I was shocked when he started reciting it. He said the only reason he knew every line was because he didn't have any friends growing up and watched a lot of T.V. Clueless was always on, he says. But I say, As IF. I know he had friends, but if watching Paul Rudd taught him anything about being super cute and sensitive to woman, than I'm totally ok with him having no friends. 

Before the vacation, I spent about a week or so trying to get Elle on a solid schedule but having Dad home kind of threw it off a bit. I feel like my children are robots or something and here's why. They are seriously such sleep soldiers. It makes life very un-spontaneous. Elle is the happiest little buttery biscuit  if i wake her at 6, put her down at 8, wake her at 1030, put her back down at 1, up at 330 and then she's up until bed at 7 and sleeps the whole night through. If I deviate from that schedule (if i decide to sleep in and not wake her) her whole world falls apart. Conrad was the exact same way when he was a baby (and still is). It's like their happiness hinges on whether they sleep or not. It's been good though having her on a solid routine because once I lay her down for her morning nap, I wake Conrad up and we spend the morning doing pre-school stuff, which has been good for both of us to have that quality time together. 

This Christmas was one of the most exciting Christmas's we've had together. This was the first Christmas that Conrad knew what was going on and it was so much fun to wake him up and bring him into the living room to pull the sheet off of his big boy bike Christmas morning. We tried to give him only 4 gifts. Something he can wear, something he needs, something he wants and something he can read & it turned out to be a great tradition to start. I also wanted to make sure all of the gifts weren't set out until Christmas morning. I feel like it makes it more fun to not see the gifts wrapped ahead of time. Last year, we started a tradition of opening all of our gifts to each other on Christmas Eve after the kids were in bed so that we could really enjoy reading our cards and taking our time with it. I will look forward to this tradition every year. 

A few high lights from our Christmas: 

1. Carousel rides. 2. Lion dress up.

3. Story time with Dad. 4. Sibling snuggle fest!

5. Green pancakes with Dad, not from a box.

6. Sofie Giraffe. 7. First bikes.

8. Cooking with Papa Jim.

9. Christmas morning with Ama Cindi & Papa Jim.

10. Gingerbread sister face.

11. Elle trying out Mommy's new quilt. 

12. Lazy mornings.

***The beautiful & talented {Arielle} from a beautiful journey won 

the bow give a way!

Kristi's {Natural} Hospital Birth:

I've come to know this sweet lady over the last few months and I know you will be enlightened by her birth story. After reading her story, I felt a sense of empowerment after seeing how she was able to stand up for her rights and opt out of procedures that she felt were not necessary during her labor. She stuck to her guns and convictions. (If only I had known her when I was preparing for my first labor!). I'm glad she was able to have a pleasant hospital experience even when things didn't necessarily go as she had planned with her Dr. not being able to be at her birth etc. She has taught me SO much about motherhood and I often depend on her advice and friendship! She has been a great mentor to me! (3 of her 5 beautiful kiddos have since been born at home.)

Kristi's Story:

This is the story of my second-born child, my first son, and my first natural birth. I did not choose natural because I "want a trophy" or any other similarly silly reason. I chose it because I believe in it. I believe it's possible and beneficial for most women, not all. I believe it is a personal choice, and would not look down on someone for their choice. Choosing natural childbirth has changed the woman I am. It has deepened my faith in God and in myself. I have learned new things from each of my births. This birth taught me that I am strong, even when I don't think I am, even when others don't think I am, even when others think I may be crazy. Each of my natural births connected my husband and me more than my epidural birth. I don't believe natural birth is the only way to accomplish those things, but I know from experience that it has been a great tool in helping me accomplish those things in my life and in my marriage. 

On Dec 26, 2005, Scott had the day off and I decided that I wanted to get all the Christmas decorations down so that they would be done before baby boy made his arrival. Who knew that would start a yearly tradition? After the decorations came down, I realized I hadn’t felt C move much in the past hour or so. I laid down and drank some orange juice to try to wake him up. He didn’t really wake, so I called my doula, Sherry Asp, and asked her opinion. She said to head into Reno and check his vitals. I started counting my contractions on the way to Reno, they were about a minute long and 10 min apart. He was moving a little now, but it was about 6pm, and there was a possible snowstorm that night, so we thought we would go ahead and get into Reno before the temperature dropped too much. At the time, we lived in Fernley, NV which required a drive through the mountains in order to get to a hospital. So, we called the Webbs, who were watching R for us, and they met us at a McDonald’s in Reno to take her. We grabbed some food for us too.

We checked into the hospital, C was doing fine, and I was dilated to 6cm. We were admitted, and we called the doula to meet us there. I informed the nurse of my birth plan - no drugs, intermittent monitoring (15min/hr), a hep-lock instead of IV, leaving the cord attached until after the placenta was delivered, and immediate nursing for the baby. She did the heplock and left. I knew my doctor was on vacation, he had warned me, so I knew it would be luck-of-the-draw. I also declined the hospital gown. I hated trying to keep that stupid thing closed with my first birth, and there was no need for it here. After about 20 minutes, the nurse returned to say that the doc on call really wanted me on monitoring the whole time. I politely declined. I also began to sneak chicken nuggets whenever we were alone in the room. While eating at one point, the doc came in. I thought for sure I was in for a lecture. He didn’t say a word. I explained to him that I wanted to be able to move freely, and that I discussed this with my doc (he was a supervisor at the hospital, so I thought a little name-dropping couldn’t hurt). He said he didn’t mind at all, that he hadn’t told the nurse I had to stay on the monitor at all. Hmmmmm. Someone lied. I still don’t know who. After about an hour, the nurse said it would just be easier to go ahead and hook me up to an IV now just in case something went wrong. I had hemorrhaged with R’s birth, so I had already consented to pitocin after the birth. I asked, “Since I have the heplock, isn’t the time difference less than 5 seconds? I’d rather not. I want to be able to move around.” She tried to convince me that I could still move around, I would just have to wheel the IV cart around. Yeah, thanks, but no. The rest of the night was pretty uneventful. We watched Jay Leno, laughed and goofed off. If I had been at home, I would have been sleeping, but I was too excited. I did nap off and on. She seemed willing to experience it right along with us. She also told me that I should just do a shot of pitocin in my leg instead of putting it in the IV. We did decide to leave the heplock in, just in case, since it was already there, even though it was uncomfortable. (We never needed it.)

At about 5am, the doctor came in and said he wanted to check my progress. I was dilated to 9 cm, he told me. He then asked the nurse for a hook. She handed it to him. Immediately, red flags went up in my mind. “A hook? That can’t mean what I think it does? [to break my water] Surely he would ask first...” Very quickly, he had the hook package opened and in hand. I asked, “Wait... what are you doing?” He responded, very matter-of-factly, “I am going to break your water.” My head was saying, “Oh, really? You’re going to break something of mine, without asking me first? Nice try.” I managed to politely say, “I would like to discuss that with my husband first.” He looked astounded that I would dare even consider not going along with his will. He stood from the bed, stormed to the door, ripped off his glove, threw it in the trash, turned around and said, “You’re not at a 9 anyway, you’re only at a 6,” and left. Well, thank you, I didn’t realize they allowed two-year-olds to become doctors. I quickly realized his shift was over in 2 hrs, and he just wanted a paycheck for delivering my baby. I looked at my belly and told little man to just hang in there till after 7, because I didn’t want that doctor anywhere near us again.

Baby boy complied.

When the doctors changed shifts, the new woman came in, and was very nice. She was supportive of my birth plan, and checked on us every few hours, but largely left us alone, achieving a really good balance. We walked around the hospital a few times and basically just hung out, trying nipple stim and taking cohosh tincture. One time when the doc came in, at about 1pm, she explained that C was head down, and very low and said she would break my water if I wanted to. At this point, maybe I should have waited, but I was anxious to meet him, and had been in the hospital for about 18 hrs. So I consented, and she broke my water.

Until that point, I had barely felt my contractions, but once the water was broken, they came fast and furious. I found relief changing positions, particularly on all fours. Sherry would gently tap twice on any muscle that I was tensing, something we had practiced. That was a reminder to me to relax that muscle. It was very effective, because it was something we had worked out before. I didn't feel like she was telling me what to do, but rather, using a gentle reminder to tell me something I wanted to do. The fact that it was non-verbal was nice for me also. I got in and out of the shower, each contraction getting stronger. I felt like I was in the movies, groaning and yelling. Sherry used counter pressure on my lower back, and Scott was very encouraging throughout. Without those two things, I don’t know if I could have made it through. During one contraction, with Sherry doing counter pressure, I thought, "If she did nothing else, this woman is worth every penny." I considered the epidural, but I ran through the reasons I had decided not to use it in my head, and knew that I wanted to stick as closely to my birth plan as possible.

I told Sherry that I thought I needed to poop, and asked if it was normal. She said that it was fine and helped me to the toilet. It was there that I realized I didn’t need to poop, I needed to push! I decided then and there that I was comfortable on the toilet and would birth there. haha! Sherry got to where we were eye-to-eye and firmly but nicely said, "Kristi, you can NOT have this baby on the toilet." I trusted her and knew she would not have had that tone of voice with me if it weren't a good reason, so I got off and moved towards the bed. She later told me she has caught babies that way, but you run the risk of them hitting their head on the porcelain, and they go from warm womb to cold water. I had not thought of either of those things!

I got back in in the bed, again on all fours. We called the nurse, who, of course, had to check my dilation. She complained to Sherry that she hated checking dilation while I was in that position (hands and knees) because it was hard for her. I said, “Fine, I I’ll roll over.” I was a little annoyed, because, really, I am the one who should be comfortable, not her, but I didn’t want to be a diva. I rolled over, she announced I was at 10cm and fully effaced. By this point, the urge to push was undeniable and unable to be ignored. They called the doctor, but the one on call was in her office across the campus. So they called the perinatologist, whose office was in the hospital itself. I remember the nurses coming in and telling me I couldn’t push yet because the doctor wasn’t there. I said he better hurry up, or I was doing it without him. I looked at Sherry, and said, “I’m fine with you catching this baby!” She was training to be a midwife at that time (she is a midwife now). They told me I could turn back over if I wanted to, but I did not feel like I could move. They also asked if I wanted to feel his head, but I was holding myself up with my hands, because putting my hips down on the bed caused too much pressure. I said, “I would really like to, but I can’t.” I’m still amazed at my ability to form such polite sentences at the time (especially considering I yelled at my midwife with L’s birth, 2 years later when I birthed at home. Maybe I was just more comfortable with my surroundings and freedom to express myself with L, or maybe I became less concerned with what other people think of me).

The perinatologist came in and introduced himself, Dr. Globe, I think. For some reason, I said, “I hope we don’t make a mess on your nice shirt!” I guess I really liked his shirt. It probably had something to do with the fact that all the other doctors had been in scrubs, and he was dressed very nicely. He told me that was not a problem, and put a gown and gloves on. Because I had waited so long, once he got into position, I pushed very hard, and C was out in about 2 pushes. Sadly, the doctor cut the cord immediately. I tried to say something, but he was very fast. I knew he did not have time to review my birth plan, so I wasn’t upset, but I was disappointed. 

They set him up on my chest, and I said, “Hi, little guy!” 

Of course, it was love at first sight. He began nursing like a champ right away. The doctor told me several times that he was not pulling on the cord, but that the placenta was coming on its own. I thought that was kindof cute, and I really appreciated it, considering the doc had pulled my placenta to get it out with R, and that is almost certainly the cause of the hemorrhage. They called the time of birth at 3:00 pm, about 2 hours after my water was broken.

They took C and put him under the bili lights while the doctor started to stitch me up; I tore because I pushed so quickly. I know I asked him about 12 times if he was going to use a local anesthetic. Childbirth without drugs serves a good purpose, stitches without them is silly! He laughed and asked if I wanted them. I was very enthusiastic when I said yes. I whined that I wanted my baby back, and the nurses said they were trying to get him warm. I told them that I was plenty warm enough to warm him and he wanted to nurse again. They gave him back to me, and he nursed again. I did have to trade back and forth with him on the bili lights to make the nurses happy though.

When they moved me to a new room, I told the nurse I had to go to the bathroom, and she insisted on helping me to the bathroom. She was surprised at how easily mobile I was, which I found somewhat amusing. It’s amazing what you can do when you can move your own legs! (With my first hospital birth, after my epidural, I couldn’t move anything below my ribs until about 10am the next day, she was born at 12:37am; it was awful.) After the bathroom, I asked her to help me with my sweatpants, I had refused to wear the hospital gown the whole time. She joked about me liking to be covered in my own clothes. I said yes, I was just more comfortable that way. She took me to my new room, and we ate dinner - it was actually very good! Scott went with the nurse to give C his first bath, and when he brought him back, he was snugly wrapped in a blanket inside a stocking! I wish I had that picture to show you, but it's trapped on a dead laptop, still in my garage, hopefully awaiting a resurrection. 

***Don't forget to enter {Elle's 1st Give-a-way} if you haven't already!

Elle's 1st Pedicure & A Girly Give-A-Way!

Elle & I were kicked out of the house today (so Daddy could wrap gifts) and told to go get pedicures!

Who would argue with that?! I dressed her up in her new felt bow and we were on our way. At the salon, they were serving egg rolls, wine, olives, prosciutto, veggies & other yummy finger foods for snacking. David, the gentlemen painting our toes looked like the very handsome Asian version of Edward Cullen. Elle was so enamored by him, she wouldn't stop staring. (He even commented on her staring. Not kidding.) I wanted to take a picture of him to show you guys his stark resemblance to my vampire boyfriend, Edward, but yeah, that's creepy.... We both got our piggies painted in festive Christmas colors.

{I love Mommy-Daughter dates!}

Elle wanted to give a way a bow of your choice from A Pinch Of Peach.
Visit A Pinch Of Peach Etsy Shop & leave a comment below. 

Mention this give-a-way on Face Book for a 2nd comment!

For a 3rd comment, tell me what you love most about Christmas!

{We love these bows so much, we also ordered Coral & Cream & Good Day Sunshine}

AND I ordered the California bow for myself.....

*Winner chosen by random Jan 1st.