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Pretty Woman

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I feel just like Julia Roberts in Pretty Women (except for the business transactions.) Since My Dear husband loves teenagers, we have been invited to attend the local prom as chaperons . Finally, I have gotten my dream date to the prom and you know how I like to dance! I thought of how fun this will be. Then it hit me, as it does every girl going to the prom WHAT WILL I WEAR? Since being either pregnant or nursing a baby for about 8 years, I stopped buying dresses unless they are maternity. I have a couple of ' stylin ' friends- one is the size of my leg but the other is pregnant with baby #6. I knew she would have a variety of sizes as she has been blessed with 5 beautiful girls (yes, they are beautiful) and the transition that comes after each of their births. Sure enough, Missi shows up with a variety of sizes, styles and accessories! See, I am Julia Roberts, minus the you know what. Here is what I have learned or have been reminded of in this "Mama sized" dress...
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HELP!!!

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I need your help BLOG friends!!! Please send scripture you cling to and pass on to others in the most difficult of times. My friend, is facing a mountain! I will post later what God has laid on my heart for this family. Here is what I have so far.... Jeremiah 29:11 Romans 8:28 Psalms 37:5-6 Proverbs 3:5-6 Joshua 1:9 Isaiah 26:12 Can't wait to hear what God has laid on your heart for "Mam."
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Cheerio Toes

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No matter how tough the day has been, there are so many stages in my life that I want to savor and not forget. I am constantly reminded how quick 18 years can pass and each step of the way, our children will need us less and less. This morning, I walked around my nicely swept kitchen and rounded the bar to where our son had prepared a bowl of Cheerios. When I sat down, my socks had Cheerios clinging to them. Usually, it is my midsection food hangs on to but now it is my socks. One day my house will be tidy and Cheerio free. I took the above picture this summer when the neighborhood boys came inside to play. I don't want to forget the young feet that have felt welcomed and safe in our home. Nor do I want to forget how Lydia's pink shoes fit into the pile. I don't want to forget the piles of bibs that come out of a load of Miss Blake's laundry. I usually have to wash just to keep her in bibs. I treasure the memory of crawling into bed one night and My Dear's feet bein...
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