Building Our House on the Rock

For the past few months my kids have really been into the song about the wise man who built his house upon the rock. Remember it from childhood? They sing it all the time. You can revisit the lyrics here. And here's a couple of videos of them singing it:

This one was taken around Christmas time and Harper seems to have gotten stuck on verse 3, "The blessings come down as the prayers go up." Maybe it was those pesky hiccups.

I started shooting this one for the audio of them sweetly singing Jesus Loves Me together in the car, but then Hudson quickly took it a different direction. And yes, I was driving at the time and wasn't watching what I was filming at all. Sorry!

My biggest goal as a mom is to point my kids to Jesus in everything. Whether it be discipline, confrontations with other kids on the playground, fun exciting events, dealing with whatever emotions they have, whatever it is at the moment, I'm always challenged to see how I can take the situation and teach them something about God's goodness or our need for Jesus.

Through this song alone, we've talked alot about what it means to be wise. I've explained to them the metaphor for our lives being built on Jesus and the way He shows us to love. We've talked about why we pray and how God blesses us when we turn to Him with our needs. I know that at this point, most of it is going in one ear and straight out the other. But even if they hear snipets of the Truth here and there, the Holy Spirit is working in their hearts to put it together. I have faith in that. 

And they are starting to think that direction on their own now, and I love it! When the tsunami happened in Japan a couple of weeks ago, I told H&H about the basics of it and that "lots of people were hurting and we really need to pray for them." Hudson immediately says, "Dear God, thank you for the people in Japan. Thank you for the policemen who will keep them safe." (I think they've been talking about policemen at school.) It was so sweet. We prayed for the situation for several consecutive days, and then a couple of days went by where we didn't. Hudson came up to me in the kitchen and just asked me, "Mommy, are the people in Japan still hurting?" I love that they are starting to think that way. To see a world of people hurting and have a love for them. To think beyond themselves. To know they know the One who can heal hurts, calm fears, bring peace, and redeem.

I'm consistently amazed that the Lord uses me in all my flaws, shortcomings, and ignorance to show anybody anything about who HE is. And then equally amazed that He uses these little not-yet-3-year-olds to show me more about Him. It's true that parenting is the toughest job there is. I get overwhelmed sometimes when I think about all that I want my kids to know and understand and teaching them a Biblical worldview in the midst of a world that craves to please self. But I rest in a God who is laboring in their lives more than me. And we'll labor to build on the Rock.

  

Lost Pines

Hi friends! I finally transferred a bunch of pictures from my camera to the computer and I was reliving some great memories we've made recently. Mainly our little getaway to Lost Pines Resort for Scott's birthday. It was one of those "trips" that couldn't have come at a better time. God really blessed us with an incredible weekend as our little family and we were able to get our minds off of stressful life stuff and just. be. together.

The trip was a surprise for Scott--I think the only time I've ever successfully surprised him with something. His birthday was on a Friday, and he worked that day. But when he got home I had us all packed up and ready to head out the door. I told him what to wear and he had no clue where we were headed, and for sure didn't know we wouldn't be back that night. Well, until he noticed that I had fed Kodi. That was the giveaway we wouldn't be home for the night because I never feed her. Don't judge me. He likes to take care of her. And hey, at least I remembered her.

One thing I love about us is that Scott was really worried that we were going to drop the kids off at the grandparents' house and they wouldn't be with us on our adventure. But I never considered that. I knew he (and I) would want our kids to be with us. Its just how we roll.

I ended up telling him where we were going when we got tied up in a little Friday afternoon rush hour traffic out by the airport. I figured we could spend our time sitting in the car getting excited about the fun we would eventually have.

Lost Pines is a Hyatt Resort outside of Bastrop, TX. Its a little less than an hour from our house. It was super convenient to get to, but felt like we were on a real vacation! I loved it! We ate an awesome buffet for his birthday dinner, with an incredible dessert buffet as well. They have fire pits scattered around the property at night where you can make 'smores or sing kumbayah or whatever you want. It was a perfect night sitting around the fire with my favorite people looking at the stars. (This is where I have to tell you this little-known fact about my husband: He's a bit of an astronomy prodigy. I know, you'd never guess it. Apparently he took an astronomy class in college and every now and then likes to dazzle us all with his knowledge on the constellations and comets and whatever other fancy star words you can think of. I'm a lucky gal.)

Now, we woke up on Saturday after a great night's sleep in a super comfy bed to horrible weather. I was so so bummed. I had planned out some hiking down by the Colorado River and maybe into Bastrop State Park. But it was cloudy, 50 degrees, and super windy. And it looked like it could pour down rain at any moment. We remained optimistic and got dressed to head to breakfast.

The best breakfast ever. It was a huge buffet with everything you could imagine. They had a build-your-own omelette station that was to die for. It rivaled the one on our cruise that I would drag myself out of bed for at 10:00 before it shut down each morning. As we stuffed our faces with great food at a perfect picture-window table, the sun began to break through the clouds just as a light rain began to fall. It was beautiful.

And thankfully, the rain ended just as we were finishing up breakfast. We spent the rest of the day on a short horse-drawn wagon ride, playing at the playground, teaching the kids to play soccer (let's be honest, Scott took on that task), playing in the arcade room, watercolor painting, and playing silly games.

We had so much fun together! And I'm so thankful that God gave us that time together. Even though I had booked it a month or so beforehand, it came at a perfect time. Even if the weather was cold and windy. He always knows exactly what we need. And I think that's what made our time so perfect.

 At our birthday dinner

 The amazing 2-tiered dessert buffet

 Scott's dessert plate. Massive.

 Strolling the resort

 My boys at the campfire

 Daddy Daughter

 On our wagon ride! They gave us blankets to snuggle in. Thankfully!

 Hangin with the horses

Family pic after our ride 

 Chillin in a wagon waving to the other wagon riders

 The kids did a "worm dig," finding a gummy worm hidden in a plate of whipped cream and oreos. You aren't supposed to use your hands, but our kids missed that memo.

Scott got challenged to a worm dig by that grandpa next to him. What a sport.

Not Giving Up

Last Wednesday, we kicked off the Lenten season as a Church with Ash Wednesday. Lent is considered the 40 days before Easter Sunday. The tradition is that people give up something in their lives during Lent to help focus on the sacrifice Jesus made and to turn their hearts and minds to Jesus during this time. I love this concept. I think the Lord gets really excited about the idea of His people purging things from their lives that may take their focus off of Him and hopefully replacing it with time in prayer or in the Word. I think He's all for it. So am I.

But I have some problems with Lent in our culture. I feel like its kind of become a really fun trend. I noticed this alot working in ministry. People love to be a part of something. So if giving up things is the thing to do, some people are in for that reason alone. Not because they really want to focus on Jesus's sacrifice, but because "everybody else is doing it" and they want to be included. Or its just what you're supposed to do. I think there's almost a competition among some for who can give up the most unique thing or face the toughest challenge. I've seen people draw attention to themselves throughout the season broadcasting what they gave up for Lent and complaining about how hard its been. The focus ends up being totally on the person or whatever they gave up, rather than on Christ.

I hate it when people get really excited about the fact that Sundays aren't counted in the 40 days and use that as their excuse to indulge in whatever it is they "gave up" on Sundays. Not that I think its supposed to be a legalistic ritual, but I think this attitude is missing the point.

One of the guys on the morning show I listen to decided to give up something for Lent. It was actually pretty funny hearing him describe his situation, but sad on the other hand. He decided to give up hard liquor. And since "you're supposed to replace it with something positive," instead of drinking liquor he's going to work out more. (Just like Jesus.) Oh, and since he won't be able to drink liquor during the 40 days, he's planning on drinking alot more beer. I think he gets it.

My favorite (I mean least favorite) Lenten trend I saw was when some high school girls gave up chocolate or sweets or sodas but their real motivation was, admittedly, to try to get skinny and look better in their prom dresses! And Lent was the perfect excuse and more acceptable than a diet. Gag.

So I personally struggle with the whole giving-something-up thing on several levels. I think it should be authentic. When deciding if I'm going to give something up, I really question my motivation in it. Am I just looking for a challenge? Is that really going to help me center on Christ? Is there some extra benefit that I'm putting more weight on? Am I just doing it because it's Lent and I'm supposed to?

I've explained here that I'm not a morning person. In college and before I had kids, I used to hit the snooze button about 50 times before getting up. I would intentionally set the alarm over an hour before I actually needed to get up in order to snooze. So for two years in college, I gave up the snooze button for Lent. It was the best thing for my walk with the Lord. I would get up when the alarm originally went off and do a Bible Study and spend time in prayer.

I have friends who have given up Facebook, which I think is awesome because it is such a huge time-sucker. Or certain foods because they feel like they over-indulge and know that it would be a true sacrifice and would need to rely on Jesus the whole time.

This year, I haven't really felt like there's something I need to give up that would be pure and authentic for me. But I do feel convicted that I need to spend more time in prayer daily. So for this Lenten season I'm doing a book every night called, A 31-Day Guide to Prayer by Andrew Murray.

Yes, I know I'm already falling short because its only 31 days long. Maybe I'll do a few days twice. Who knows? I've done this book before and its not anything that's super eye-opening or profound on most days. But its really focused on praying in the Spirit and I've been loving that.

If you have given something up for Lent, I hope the Lord is using that sacrifice in your life to draw you closer to Him and you feel encouraged in the process. And if you haven't, I also hope you are finding ways to center yourself on Christ during this Lenten season.

Worst Week: Part II

If you missed the beginning of our Worst Week you can get the details here.

I stayed in bed most of Wednesday, while Scott continued to try to get me to drink Gatorade (which made me feel disgusting) and force-feed me anything he could think of. He was also trying to get me to walk around a bit to keep some strength up, but Scott has a hard time making me do anything.

On Wednesday evening some friends brought dinner over for us, so I tried to build up some strength to head downstairs to greet them. I ate some dinner and hung out downstairs for awhile. I hadn't showered since before the retrieval, so I decided to try to do that. Knowing I wouldn't be able to stand for a shower, I decided to go into the guest bathroom where I could run the shower but still sit on the edge of the tub. But that wasn't really working out, so I plugged the tub and went for a bath instead. Sidenote: we had used the shower in the guest bath several times when we had company, but had never used the bath.

When I was done with my bath, I drained the tub and crawled back to our bathroom to sit down and dry my hair. All of the sudden I started hearing this ear-piercing screech coming from downstairs. It was the highest pitch I had ever heard and also the loudest noise. I was yelling for Scott, but wasn't getting a response. I had no idea what was going on, or where Scott was. But at the same time I started feeling super nauseous. Should I try to go figure out what the awful screeching noise was or stay put and throw up? I reluctantly chose to puke. I kept trying to call for Scott but I couldn't muster up much of a yell and the crazy squeal was drowning me out anyway. No husband was coming to my relief so I crawled back into bed and tried to cover my ears from the deafening constant squeal.

Finally, the noise stopped and Scott soon appeared in our room. He said there was apparently a leak in the tub drain (upstairs) that had gone through the ceiling into our laundry room, which was now flooded. The noise was a water sensor alarm alerting us of the problem. "That sucks," I said. "By the way, I threw up in the bathroom. I was calling for you, but you couldn't hear me." Poor Scott looked so defeated. All of this on no sleep because of our ER adventure throughout the night. He got the water cleaned up and got me more Gatorade, called a plumber to come out the next day and we all went to bed.

Scott had to go into work on Thursday, so his mom came to take on the tasks of forcing Gatorade down me, dragging me out of bed to walk around, and trying to get me to eat anything. 'Twas a tough job, but she was more successful than Scott. I think because its easier to tell your husband to shove it and leave you alone than it is to say that to your mother-in-law. So I actually ate a little bit that day and got up to walk to the guest room a couple of times.

But another fun fact about Thursday: in addition to the plumber we now had coming over, we had also scheduled to have our newly purchased garage doors installed that day. So I moved to the couch and listened to lots of banging, drilling and such instead of sleeping. Or instead of being proactive with the repairmen and answering their questions and whatnot, I just laid on the couch convincing them they would catch a deadly disease from me. Oh, and because I never got up to go outside and check the garage doors they were installing, to this day, I still think they installed the wrong color.

 I think the ones we chose were the color of the front door, but at that point, I was picking my battles carefully. And its amazing how you can talk yourself into liking something when you're completely unmotivated to go through the hassle of changing it. They don't look that bad, right?

To make this whole situation worse, I was supposed to be doing a ton of stuff at work to get ready for our new summer staff training on Friday. So all week I was feeling guilty for leaving it to other people to finish for me. But luckily Whitney and Emily are awesome friends and filled in to finish everything for me. Finally, a glimpse of God's grace!

Friday morning rolled around and as Scott was leaving for work he came back upstairs and told me something was wrong with Kodi, our sweet puppy. I went downstairs with him and found Kodi looking up at me with one side of her face three times the size of the other side. She looked crazy! We had no idea what had happened to her. So once again, looking defeated, instead of going to work, Scott was driving Kodi to the vet. That's a long story in itself, but he ended up bringing her home after a shot and then having to take her back again later because the swelling wasn't going down. Apparently some sort of crazy allergic reaction. Perfect timing. It had never happened before or since then either.

Thankfully, she's perfectly fine now!

My mom had come in on Thursday to help out since by then it was apparent things weren't going well. I was trying to make it to our staff training day because it was really important for me to be there with the team and I wanted my life back. Since I still wasn't in any state to drive, my mom drove me to the staff training and dropped me off, middle-school style. It was pretty awkward. Nothing like meeting new people you're supposed to be really excited about, but you can barely walk, you look pregnant but aren't, and you don't really want to go into the whole story, so you just kind of gloss over the issue like its normal.

Saturday finally arrived. This was five days after our retrieval, which meant it was the day for the second part of the IVF process: the embryo(s) transfer. This is where they put the embryo back into your uterus to implant. From the moment I woke up, I did not feel good about it. I still felt so overwhelmed with my body that the thought of adding on a twin pregnancy in that state was sickening to me. I actually puked again that morning and was generally dreading the process when I was hoping to be excited about it. My mom and Scott were trying really hard to pump me up for it and encourage me, and I knew it was better for the embryos to be put in then, rather than "freezing" them and transferring them at a later time, so we loaded up in the car and headed back to the surgery center.

Dr. Vaughn evaluated me and was concerned I was still so swollen and had so much fluid. He explained that a pregnancy will actually produce those same hormones and therefore add additional fluid to the abdomen. He also added that some people can't tolerate Gatorade so instead I could just eat lots of tortilla chips because salt would do the same thing as the electrolytes. Oh, thanks. In the words of Adam Sandler: "that information would have been much more useful to me YESTERDAY." Or on Tuesday. Tortilla chips are much more my style and to this day I cringe when I see Gatorade. Dr. Vaughn decided I wasn't healthy enough to do the procedure, so we had to cyropreserve our embryos and were sent home. I was actually relieved. I felt free to go home and recover and not have to worry about growing babies.

It was a pretty awful week. Seriously, how many things can unexpectedly go wrong in one week? We have never had any of those experiences again, thankfully. But I love that we laugh about it now. And really, we kind of laughed about it as it was happening. Some of it. I'm thankful that week is behind us. But I know there will be other weeks like those. Some less humorous. But we've learned that God's grace is bigger than our circumstances. And He always works things out for the good. Maybe not what we think is "good" in our minds, but what is truly good.

Worst Week: Part I

Awhile back Scott's brother, Carl and his wife, Kimbra recommended a TV series to us called Worst Week. We got it on Netflix but somehow ended up with the British version. If you're familiar with British comedy you have an idea what we watched. If you're not familiar with it, there's probably a reason. After discussing it further with C&K, we realized there was also an American version. We thought the British version was humorous, so we tried again on the USA take. We got it in a few weeks before our move in December, and since the series consists of about 15 hour long episodes, it took us a long time to get through it. But it was pretty cute! It's a total Meet the Parents kind of comedy where a guy just can't catch a break with his future in-laws despite his best efforts.

Since Worst Week has been on my mind, I thought I'd share with you mine and Scott's worst week.
It was the week of May 21-27, 2007. Scott and I were in the middle of our IVF (in-vitro fertilization) cycle and it turned out that we were scheduled for the retrieval part on Tuesday morning, May 22nd.

My doctor had told us all about the retrieval procedure, in addition to all my countless hours of beneficial scary online research. I knew I would be knocked out with anesthesia, but Dr. Vaughn also said it would wear off quickly, and that some patients even returned back to work the afternoon after the procedure. Being the over-achiever that I am, I took that to heart, and even told my boss not to worry about all the stuff I was leaving to do because I'd probably be back to work later on Tuesday. He graciously told me to take whatever time I needed.

If you're familiar at all with IVF, you probably know that during the retrieval the doctor will likely retrieve between 5 and 10 eggs from the ovaries. Even in all my research, retrieving 20 eggs was almost unheard of and the most for anyone to expect.

We went in for the retrieval procedure about 7:00 a.m. on Tuesday, May 22nd. After getting all set-up, I was wheeled away to the OR. They gassed me and told me to start counting backwards from 10. I hadn't talked with Dr. Vaughn yet that morning, and I thought it would be rude to already be sleeping when he came into the OR, so I desperately tried to stay awake, but to no avail. I think I only made it to 8 before I passed out.
The next thing I know I'm waking up and feel the worst pain I've ever felt in my abdomen and immediately start trying to pull out an IV, that pulse monitor thing from my thumb, and trying to curl up in the fetal position. Scott loves to tell that story because it's so unlike me. I'm usually so compliant. Scott had to page the nurse as he tried to calm me down. I became somewhat settled, and we all started the conversation about what had taken place.

I was told that Dr. Vaughn retrieved.....wait for it, wait for it....drumroll please.....FIFTY-TWO EGGS from my ovaries. 52! Each egg grows inside a follicle within the ovary, and this means that I was poked with a needle 52 times in order to penetrate through to the follicle to get the egg out. (In a normal cycle, a woman develops one follicle each month and at the point of ovulation, the egg pops out on its own. Since I was being stimulated through daily shots, several follicles were growing at once. And again, I like to think since I'm an over-achiever, my body was trying to see how many we could grow at once, resulting in almost tripling the max number to expect. Way to go, me! And I succeeded at being the most anyone had ever heard of. Even though not all the follicles were "mature," the eggs still needed to be retrieved or they would otherwise turn into cysts = bad news. Just a little IVF101.)

I was like a circus act. Nurses were coming by to meet me, I think so they could brag to the other nurses that they had met "the girl who had 52 eggs removed." I kept waiting for a reporter and photographer from the statesman to come by.

Needless to say, I was not sent away on my way back to work. I was drugged on lots of pain medication and went home to hopefully stay in bed for the rest of my life. The problem with having so many eggs retrieved is that each follicle also contains fluid, which holds the egg. When the egg is ovulated (or retrieved through a needle in my case) the fluid also leaks out. The amount of fluid in just one follicle (or even 5-10) is no big deal, not even noticeable. But since I had 52 follicles bust open, all that fluid was leaking into my ovaries, making them swell, and even spill out into my abdominal cavity. Its actually a condition called Ovarian Hyper-Stimulation Syndrome, OHSS. And it can be fatal. Fun. Thus all the pain. I was told to drink lots of Gatorade because the electrolytes in it would help my body absorb the fluid faster and cause the swelling to go down.

My sweet husband was forcing Gatorade down my throat all that day and I was trying to be a good patient and oblige. (I hate Gatorade.) I was feeling awful. I slept most of Tuesday. Around 9:00 on Tuesday night, I started panicking because when I tried to lay back I couldn't breathe. It was like something was squeezing my lungs and I couldn't get enough air. We paged Dr. Vaughn and he said it was from the fluid in my abdominal cavity, that when I laid down, it was leveling out into my chest, putting pressure on my lungs. He told us to go to the closest ER just to get a simple bloodtest done. He wanted to look at a blood level to make sure I wasn't getting into too dangerous of an OHSS case. He even called the ER to tell them we were coming and what we needed. (He's so great.)

So we head to the ER prepared to be quickly poked (again) and then sent home and wait to hear the results and further instruction. Wrong. I now know nothing moves quickly in the ER. Even though they knew we were coming, we waited in the waiting room for over an hour. At one point I was sitting in the floor with my head in a gross chair. And people kept flying by us back to be seen. A stupid middle school girl came in with a jammed finger and they took her right back, meanwhile I'm laid out in the waiting room floor, moaning and crying. They said they were waiting to give us a "room." Finally a bed opened up, I think probably around 11:00 pm at this point.

Our ER doctor was yet another guy who takes his job way too seriously. He immediately starts me on IV fluids. And then starts asking me all these prodding questions about "this procedure." It was clear the guy had NO CLUE about anything IVF related. He was acting like I had some shady surgery performed by a high school kid in a back alley somewhere. I informed him exactly what was going on, and I could tell he didn't believe me. He made me give him the doctor's name who had performed the so-called surgery so he could page him and talk with him directly. I was so embarrassed, but unfortunately, it would only get worse. He also told me since I was having breathing problems, they needed to perform an x-ray. I told him I didn't think it was necessary because I didn't have any obstruction in my lungs and knew it was just a result of the retrieval. Dude, I'm just here for a blootest. He replied with something along these lines: Mam, you came in with breathing problems and its my job to treat you in the manner I deem appropriate. I need to get a chest x-ray to see what's going on.

So in came a nurse to prep me for my chest x-ray. This may or may not include an awkward encounter with the male nurse when he told me I couldn't wear my bra for the x-ray but when I tried to take it off  it kept getting tangled up in the IV wires I was connected to. Hey, just be impressed I was actually wearing one. That being said, we successfully got a flawless x-ray image. While we're still waiting on the bloodtest results to come back, Mr. ER reviews the x-ray and then says he needs to talk with Dr. Vaughn again to go over the results of the x-ray. It's now 1:30 in the morning. Please, no. But oh yes, he pages Dr. Vaughn. Again.

When we finally get the bloodtest results back, things didn't look terribly dangerous so they could release me. But, they also somehow found out that my potassium level was a little low, so they wouldn't release me until I drank that nasty potassium drink. As if that's what was causing all this. I told them I would eat a banana at home, but they didn't buy it. We didn't leave the hospital until about 3:00 in the morning. With orders for more Gatorade and "exercise" (i.e. trying to just sit up on my own) to help my body absorb the fluid. And don't forget, I'm still in crazy pain this whole time, not to mention embarrassed that this random guy paged Dr. Vaughn two times in the middle of the night on my behalf. It was seriously, seriously brutal.

So that just gets us through to Wednesday morning. In an effort to not make this the longest post ever, I'll recap the rest of our worst week tomorrow. It gets better. And it's not all about fertility stuff!


 





  

Ode to Scott

In honor of Scott's birthday today, I thought I'd tell you a few reasons why I love him and why I'm so glad God made him who he is and has him to be my husband.

He's humble. Scott has never been one to draw attention to himself and I love that. He's confident and comfortable with who he is and doesn't ever need to advertise for himself. My favorite example of this: One night a few years ago we were at a dinner party with lots of people we didn't know. We were sitting around this living room and the subject of scuba diving came up. People were throwing around a few places they had dove and then a few guys started talking about how awesome it would be to dive The Great Barrier Reef in Australia (#1 dive spot in the world). I'm sitting next to Scott knowing full well he dove The Great Barrier Reef and thinking, "any minute he'll chime in with how he has dove it and what it was like, what he saw, etc." He didn't. He just sat there. As a wife, I was so proud of him for the dive and think it's really cool, but when I asked him about it later, he said he didn't care that these random people knew that and didn't feel like he needed to impress them. I love that.

Although, there apparently was a time he thought he was pret--ty cool. Isn't he hot? (Of course he would like it to be known that he was standing like that because he was teaching basketball at camp and was watching kids shoot baskets.)

He doesn't have hobbies. Ok, that's not entirely true. What I mean is that he isn't one of those guys who wants to spend his nights and weekends hunting, fishing, playing golf, playing poker, working on cars, playing video games, etc. He never sits around watching sports on TV. He really does want to spend his free time with our family and involve us all in the things he does love. One of those things is the lake. And luckily, I happen to love that he has this hobby. I've often said that Lake Scott is one of my favorite Scotts. I love to watch him in that element. He can ski, slalom, barefoot ski, kneeboard (with all kinds of cool tricks), and wakeboard (again, with fun tricks). And I love to watch him, even just driving the boat. My favorite part now is watching him share his interests with our kids.

Harper and Scott on the kneeboard.  Harper had just turned 2!

Congratulating each other on a great run!

  Hudson would rather drive. Shocking!

He's a jack-of-all-trades. I'm always annoyingly impressed with the wealth of knowledge Scott has on so many different subjects. He knows the answer to everything. And he can fix anything. Over and over again, I find myself thinking, "Scott will know about that" or "I'll just ask Scott, he'll know what to do." It doesn't matter if its a home project, a computer issue, a personal problem, or even just a random question...he's the man to go to. He has so much wisdom and so many talents!


He's not gross. You know how a lot of boys have nasty feet, dirty fingernails, leave hair all over the bathroom, and stink? Not Scott. He's arguably cleaner than I am. I like that he showers regularly, only wears clean clothes...you know, the basics that should come naturally to humanity.


He's a hard-worker. One thing I loved about Scott when I first met him is that he is a hard worker. He isn't looking for ways to cut corners, to get out of anything, to take the easy way out. He doesn't do anything halfway. The best two examples of his hard work: First, his dedication and determination given to getting his CPA. And second (and more importantly) in all the "work" he does serving our kids. He is daily involved in their meals, entertaining them, bathing them, getting up in the night when they have to go potty (or if they need socks...seriously, Harper woke up the other night at like 2 a.m., came into our room, and just said she needed some socks. And my love got up and got her some socks!) He is consistently giving 110% of himself to his job and his family, and I love that about him! Scott has such a servant's heart and keeps me from being a nagging wife! :)

This is when Scott received his CPA. I know we look rough. Lay off, we had 3 week old twins.

This man can do it all!

He's always thinking of me. I think that Scott always has me on the fore-front of his mind. He always has my best interest at heart. He loves to take care of me. The words, "what can I do for you?" come out of his mouth daily. Back to the scuba diving thing, when I was getting certified, he even retook the entire course with me because I was a little nervous about it. And we did it in March, when the average temperature of Lake Travis is about -40 I think. I'm so grateful for a husband who is always thinking about how he can care for me and how he can make my life easier. Even if its just doing the dishes or folding the laundry...he's always looking for what I might need. 

I think all of these things stem from Scott's love for God and the way that he lives that out. (OK, maybe the "not being gross" part is just a bonus.) But he truly lives his faith in who God is and I admire him for that. 

OK, in case you're about to throw up, hear me say this: he has his flaws. I know them. He's a sinner. So am I. We are two sinners who are committed to each other, and leaning on God's grace daily, individually and united. And its God's grace that allows me to celebrate who Scott is. I'm so blessed to have this man as my companion and partner. Because I think he's the greatest. And I'm excited to celebrate him this weekend! Praise the Lord for bringing him into my life!

The Cook In Me

Going along with this post on organizing my life, I also have a trusty little system for meals. Scott and I like to eat out alot. Before we had kids, we ate dinner out several nights a week. Even after the kids were born, I found it tough to cook meals consistently, so we continued to eat out often. We were always astonished by how quickly the restaurant charges added up on our credit card. I discovered that the toughest part of cooking at home wasn't actually the preparing of the meal part. Scott usually gets home from work fairly early and is more than happy to play with the kids while I get dinner ready. The hardest part was knowing what to make and having all the ingredients in my kitchen already. So just like with my chore chart, I decided that if I set aside some time to do the prep work, I wouldn't resort to making mac-n-cheese every night or spending more money eating out.

So here's my plan: I sit down on Sunday night or Monday morning with cookbooks and recipes and I come up with five dinners to cook for the week. I also love allrecipes for new ideas. This gives us two nights to eat out, and I've found that I enjoy those times more now. I make my grocery list off of those recipes so I know I have everything when I get ready to start. I'm trying to get better at making big portions so I can build more leftovers into our five meals. And to choose recipes that use some of the same ingredients so I don't end up throwing away half a stalk of celery or a bushel of cilantro. Oh and to always be thinking healthier! I'm still learning!

And let me just say that a couple of weeks ago, I freakin' rocked our dinners. Here's what I made:

1. Asian pork tenderloin with rice and stir-fry veggies
2. Homemade Tumeric chicken wings (dry rub and sauce) with salad and rolls
3. Carne guisada with black bean stew and spanish rice
4. Baked salmon topped with fresh spinach and a creamy sun-dried tomato filling
5. Chicken Parmesan 

I was able to make those just because I took the time to plan. If I don't plan I end up at the store searching the frozen meal section for Stouffer's lasagnas and Chicken Voila. We do a lot of simple grilling stuff, especially in the summer, or taco nights, and I've learned there are endless possibilities with a rotisserie chicken. So I still go simple alot, but I have fun stretching myself to try new stuff.

I love Rachael Ray's 30 minute meals, although I've yet to actually make one in 30 minutes. Even ones I've been making for years.  But there are tons of great recipes that get me out of the box and using more exotic ingredients. One of my favorites is her "My Sister Ria's Lazy Chicken/My Lazy Sister Ria's Chicken." I also like her Cashew Chicken although I think I feel the same way about it as I do her mexican food. Having grown up in New Mexico and Texas my whole life I know what good mexican food is. RR has some Mexican recipes that taste good but are definitely not real Mexican food. I'm sure her Asian recipes are the same way. If you're looking for authentic Chinese, this isn't really the place for you, but if you want a great, healthy, pretty, colorful dish that tastes yummy than try her Cashew Chicken. It's an Ela family staple.
 

The Melting Pot is probably my favorite restaurant ever. I love it. We only eat there about once a year since it has a big celebration kind of price tag, but I look forward to our next visit on a continual basis. Scott got me their cookbook for Valentine's Day this year and I am really excited about getting into fondue and making some of their great recipes. So come on over for fondue night...but give me a little while to practice first!

This is the cookbook, "Dip Into Something Different"

I've found that I truly do like to cook. I'm not a huge fan of the constancy of it, but with a little discipline and prep work, I can prepare meals that my family will love and that I'm proud of. And its kind of become a little escape for me. I can be in my own world and not have to be the "go-to" person for the kids. And since Scott always helps with the clean-up, I'm pretty much out of excuses! So Happy Cooking!