Farewell Tiger

Today my daughter said a tearful farewell to her first pet, Tiger the Betta fish. Gracie received him as a gift from one of her favourite friends last December. He lived in our house for 1 year and was very cute. He was always happy to greet us when we came into the room and always seemed ravenous!Unfortunately, he became sick earlier this year in February when we lost our baby. He swam around in his gunk-filled tank for 5+ weeks, neglected and sad. He got fin rot, which made his pretty fins all jagged looking. But he survived! I cleaned him up, medicated him and his fins began growing back. He did well all year until just a few weeks ago... his little belly got fat and bloated and he started hanging out on the bottom of his tank. I tried the same medicine but to no avail.

Last night I saw him lying on the bottom and knew he was a goner. I went to bed dreading the thought of seeing my little girl experience loss. She cried for quite a while this morning, but then we put him in a pretty little box to bury him in. She is thankful that he is not sick anymore or in pain. She asked if fish go to heaven... well, I told her there were beautiful lakes there, so maybe! I am thankful that I don't have to clean out his bowl anymore, but I'm thinkin' little G is going to ask for a fish to replace Tiger and how will I be able to say no?! I won't.

Today was a farewell hair day as well.
See that beautiful long hair on my middle daughter, Squeaky the Kid? If you've ever heard her in real life you'll know why we call her that.



She's been begging me to cut it for a month now... I was dragging my feet but finally gave in today.

I'd say she looks rather sassy!

Look closely at those eyelashes. They sure didn't come from me!

I'm no hairstylist, but I can do layers. Okay, that's probably all I can do.

Cheeky.

Cute.

She's an expert at this pose.

I played it safe and didn't go as short as she showed me, but now I'm pondering cutting it even shorter. Hmmm.

~ christa jean

Being frugal is fun!!!

I'm usually pretty good at getting stains out of clothing... wouldn't call myself a wizard at it, but I can usually find a way to win over the stubborn blotch. Having kids has increased the challenge for me, some of those stains are so durn stubborn! Aren't "washable" markers really supposed to be washable?!

I had an idea about a year ago and I'm not even sure that it originated in me own little head, but it's a grand idea nonetheless! I had fought the good fight with a couple of stains and been beaten... I was sad... these were some really cute clothes of my girls! You know, little white frilly skirts that, for some reason, they thought would be perfect playing-out-in-the-mud garb. Where was I? Oh, probably reading your blog. Then it hit me!

Just dye them! I ran out and picked up a couple of boxes of Cocoa Brown dye and decided to turn them little white frilly skirts into Heehaw brown cowgirl skirts! I will post pics of the final product when I finish! I'm giving meself a pat on the back for thinking frugally and not just running out to replace the clothing.

For a superb post on more frugal tips, hop on over here to my cousin Katy's blog.

I'm curious if you have any more frugal ideas I can steal and call my own! Do share!

~christa jean

My Worst Enemy.

We are simply having a wonderful Christmastime over here in our little house draped in snow. We've been munching on cookies and caramels and praying against cavities. We've been snuggling in front of fires and reading stories, watching movies and eating comfort food. We did finally buy chains so that we could venture out on the icy roads and finish checking off our gift list.

Everywhere I go, I am asked "When are you due?" And then "What is the sex? Is this your first?" Many have expressed surprise at my size. One sweet lady exclaimed "Mercy Buckets!" when I confessed that I wasn't due till January. To that I replied, "Yes, Lord, have mercy on me!"

But, unfortunately, just underneath my smiling answers and the sweetness of this season is a lurking enemy. My friends, I am in a battle right now and I'm not sure if I am winning. The little shivers of fear creep up and my mind begins down the dreaded trail... what if?

What if this baby is too big. What if there are complications? What if the pain is too much this time? What if my body doesn't do what it is meant to do? What if the baby is posterior and I have horrid back labor? What if I labor for days? What if I labor too quickly and my midwives can't make it in time? What if I am disappointed because I hope for one experience but get another? What if the baby is handicapped? What if I can't be a good mother to four children? What if I fail?
What if, what if, what if!

The only comfort I find are in the Words of Life.

"You will keep him in perfect peace,

Whose mind is stayed on You,

Because he trusts in You."

~ Isaiah 26:3 ~

"Whenever I am afraid,

I will trust in You."

~ Psalm 56:3 ~

I must fill my mind with these words or go insane. It is hard trying to hold back the tide of fear, anxiety, worry... but try I must if I am to function at all. The darkness will not master me! Not because I chant these mantras or believe in myself. I have surrendered to the loving Master and I trust in His salvation. I am nothing good without Him. It is His grace that I cling to daily. He has not given me a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and a sound mind. That is what I ask for, dear God, a sound mind. Pray this for me also.

I am especially overflowing with gratitude this Christmas... for that babe in the straw who came to save us all.

I love this sweet song by Leigh Nash.

"who is this child,

asleep in a manger?

the heaven's are bright

the stable's so cold

on this holy night,

have you come to redeem us?

little child in the straw

little child in the straw

who is this babe?

prince of the universe

a donkey is braying

angels are singing

the prophets did say

you would come to redeem the world

little child in the straw

save us all

and if we lose sight of your sweet face

at the birth of grace, at the birth of grace

light of truth shine like Bethlehem's star

lead us to where you are, show us who you are

merciful one

lover of every soul

the Father's own Son

Emmanuel

yes, we believe,

you are able to heal us

Noel, noel,

save us all

save us tonight."

~ christa jean

Memories.

I've been progressing along in my pregnancy rather nicely, or not so nicely.

My countdown to baby on my sidebar says I still have 22 days to go... uhhh... Look at me! That is what I said today to my children who kept begging to go out and play in the snow (which is not common for these parts). I can hardly walk around on my own little legs in my own little house and they want me to go slippery-sliding out in the snow? Hmm? Not gonna happen.

But a few tears came to my eye as I watched them walk through our beautiful back yard, down through the trees to the school yard hills to sled with daddy. This may never happen here again. Here in this house, in this city. Sigh.

What will happen in this house, in this city, in this season will be memories made. Love shared. Heart strings strengthened. A new life born. Yes, in this very house where all our dreams have lived for almost 3 years. It is just a house. It is not our true home. It is just a shadow of the gloriousness that will await us on the other side.

I have to admit that this Christmas will be slightly bittersweet. It was Christmas day a year ago that we told family we were expecting.

I was 7 weeks along on Christmas day. I remember laying on the couch for 2 hours in the early evening feeling sickly.

Yep, here is me, taking pics of myself lying there like a true blog

nerd.

I remember feeling little flutters of life that early. It was not more than 2 weeks later that the baby ceased to be alive. Yet I thought she was fine for 6 more weeks.

Nine weeks old, with little fingers and toes sprouting.

I do not hold onto her, she is in a beautiful place.

I look forward to this next little one who will surprise us with his mini man parts.

I look forward to what awaits my family, change does not scare me anymore.

The memories will always be with me, some sweet, some sour.

Funny how you don't realize how sweet the sweet moments are until you get some sour ones.

Uh oh, is she following in my footsteps? Ice Ice baby.

~ christa jean

Chewy little chunks of gold.

We made these little beauties a few weeks ago and this small bowl full is all we have left! They were so delicious and addictive. Everyone who has dropped by recently was given one to "taste test" and there was not one person who could stop at only one.

I got this recipe from my new bloggy friend Mica. She is homeschooling as well and makes the sweetest dollies in her spare time. I was drawn to the recipe because it seemed simple enough... short ingredient list, easy instructions... well...

My history with candy recipes has not been good. I'm not sure if I have a bogus candy thermometer or if I am just not patient enough. Probably the second reason is the true one... yeah, I'm pretty sure of that.

History seemed to be repeating itself as I stood for half an hour, then an hour, then an hour and a half stirring, feeling that surely I had failed again. I called my super friend TLC who actually cooks and bakes well, and in my panic asked her what was wrong with me! The temperature of the caramel was supposed to reach 250 degrees... mine was stuck on 225 for.ev.er. Mind you, I was standing at the stove for almost an hour and a half stirring constantly, with only a few breaks to study the recipe again. Hmm, funny how that little card could give me no comfort. But, to my surprise, as I poured out my woes to said friend, the temperature rose. Angelic voices could be heard singing "Hallelujah!", or maybe that was just me. Maybe it was the magical voice of my friend on the other line that finally made the temp. rise those last few degrees.

I spent a lot of time wrapping those chewy little chunks of gold to perfection. Yep, that's me. But they sure look pretty! I will surely make this recipe again and maybe double it (will that double the stirring time, I wonder?). My neighbors will benefit from my efforts and maybe some others will too. If you get caramels from me, give me a pat on the back and congratulate my success and tell me I'm the best, akin to Willy Wonka! ;-D

~christa jean

I have a disorder.

But you knew that about me already, didn't you?! (picture me crazily cackling right now).

I like ice.

I really like ice.

I really like to crunch on ice.

I can't go a day without eating 2-3 glasses full of ice.

I've eaten almost a whole bag of ice in the last week.

Are you apalled, astonished, and amazed?

My disorder is called pica.

This urge only comes upon me when I am pregnant. It is an indicator that I am mineral deficient. If I wasn't mineral deficient then I would be considered mental. I'm not sure that I'm not really mental ~ I do feel that way some days, oy! But I'm looking on the bright side of this. I could be worse. I could eat coal, soil, feces, chalk, paper, soap, mucus, ash, glass, hair, wool, urine, blood, wood, gum, or myself incessantly. Other's with pica have done so.

OH! That just makes me wanna gag!

Contents taken from the stomach of an inmate who suffered from pica.

Vitamins make me wanna gag too. I swear my throat starts closing itself as the vitamin is searching for the way down. But vitamins I must take and this I will do. I don't want all my teeth to fall out, nor do I really enjoy the brain freeze headaches I get from a cup full of ice. Mmm, ice. Crushed ice, I love you.

Somebody slap me!

~christa jean

He brings beauty from our pain.

I recently had the privilege of "meeting" a wonderful gal named Megan.

Megan lost her son Macsen at 37 weeks gestation. He had a knot in his umbilical cord. It has been just about a year since her precious boy flew from her arms to Jesus' arms. That same sweet Jesus has been holding her in His arms and healing her heart over this past year. Through her pain, she found purpose. She now creates memory boxes for mothers grieving a loss. Her boxes are beautifully decorated and filled with treasures.

She decided she would celebrate Macsen's homecoming this year with an Auction. I was able to donate a jewelry set from The Christa Collection with love. My sis donated some super cute aprons (can you make me a maternity apron?!).
All the proceeds will go toward this ministry that God has placed on her heart to fulfill. Read this post of hers to find out more about it and pray for success. Oh, and pop on over to her blog to say howdy too. You won't be able to leave there with a dry eye.
We are all travelers together on this sometimes weary road heavenward.

I also recently tried to win this book "In Faithfulness, He Afflicted Me". Alas, I was one of about 80 other bloggers trying to win it too! The author, Lynette Kraft of Dancing on Weathered Ground, just released her story of pain and healing and what a story it is. She is mother to nine children, three of whom are with the Father now. Here you can read a synopsis of her story. Have your tissues at hand.

He really does bring beauty from our pain. These two ladies prove it to be so.
I pray God will use me in such ways as well.

~ christa jean