Ugly. Nasty. Danger!

Do you ever have those moments where you are so thankful that God is there, watching over you? Well, I had one of those moments a couple of weeks ago.

It was a typical Saturday- sunny, beautiful, and spent catching up on yard work.  I brought Baby Boy outside and set him in his walker (a tactic I use when I want him to stay out of certain places...like my flowerpots, for example). Dad was a few feet away, trimming some plants. I walked inside to get a drink. I was only gone for a minute (probably less) when I heard Baby Boy start to cry.

I looked out the window.
He had rolled his walker to the edge of the patio and got himself stuck.
Dad had his back turned for the moment.
It was not an emergency...
So I finished pouring my drink and returned to "rescue" my baby.

That's when I saw it.

About 6 inches from the walker, lying in the thick grass, was a large SNAKE. It was all coiled up with its little, disgusting head raised.

Was my sweet baby crying because he had been bitten by that evil creature?!
Panic!

Immediately, I grabbed my poor baby up from his walker and removed his clothes to look for a snake bite.
It's amazing how fast your mind and body work together when you fear for your child's safety. I'm sure I had him undressed in under two seconds and I had figured out how long it would take to get to the nearest emergency room before I had removed his socks...

And that's when I realized how thankful I am for God's watchful eye protecting my baby in those moments when I cannot see the dangers of this world.

There was no snake bite. Thank God. Literally, I thanked God.

As for the snake, well... he'll never be coming into my yard again.

When it comes to protecting my baby, there is one good snake: a dead one.

I Ruined My Granite!

We had granite counter tops installed in our kitchen recently. They are so pretty! Just exactly what I had imagined (pictures to come eventually). And wouldn't you know that I completely ruined the island slab within the first week?

It was not intentional. Really.

I simply took out my 2 sticks of butter from the fridge, allowing them to soften on the counter before baking cookies.
Then I got busy.
Forgot the butter.
For 2 days.
And when I moved the butter, there were 2 perfectly stick-butter shaped stains DEEP in my granite.

I panicked.
Then I read everything on the internet that I could find about removing set-in grease stains from granite. There is actually a lot of reading material on this, so I was comforted to know that I'm not alone.

We went to the hardware store to find acetone to make a poultice (one method found online), hoping that would remove grease stains.  We were advised against this method by the paint clerk.

We asked a granite salesman at the hardware store how to get rid of stains, to which he replied, "I've never heard of that happening before".  Bah. No help there, either.

I settled on a cheap and seemingly harmless method: cornstarch and water mixed together to make a paste, let sit overnight to dry on the stain, wipe off in the morning. This actually worked to lighten the stain, but after 3 days of doing this constantly, I was ready for something more powerful.

And that's when I found this gem:

It's a little pricey for the pint-sized can, but really insignificant in comparison to replacing the entire slab of granite on my island...

So I bought it, followed the instructions exactly, and it worked!  

If you have high-maintenance granite and make a mistake that results in a deep oil stain, get this stuff. It will stink up your house for a few days, but you will not have to replace your slab. :-) 

Mother's Day Thoughts

This past Sunday was my very first time being able to celebrate Mother's Day as a mom. It was kind of strange (new), but also wonderful. My husband put a lot of effort into making it special for me. Even my own mom and siblings thought of me. Of course, Baby Boy is too little to understand, but I know he will appreciate my hard work for his life someday.

People often ask me if I'm thrilled that I'm a mom now.

Well, yes. I love being a mom.

But as continue to learn how to be a great mom, I am constantly reminded that it's by far the hardest job I've ever encountered. The stakes could not be higher. I am responsible for my son and how he grows up. I must teach him how to become a respectable citizen, how to have proper manners, how to play nice, how to work hard, how to treat others, and most importantly, I must teach him about the love of the Lord.

Some days are harder than others. Some days my son's strong will is stronger than mine. Some days I'm tired or sick or have a splitting headache. Never is there a day that goes by where I have a "day off" or get to "sleep in".  Motherhood is definitely not a good fit for the lazy...

I know that I'm not alone. Every mom who chooses to love and care for her children has experienced the joys and the trials of motherhood. From new moms like me to experienced moms like my own mother, we all work hard to accomplish the greatest task that life could present to us- raising children.

Even though some people think it's ridiculous to be recognized for just one day of the year, I think it's nice. I felt like my hard work actually doesn't go unnoticed and I'm appreciated more than I sometimes realize. Someday when I'm doubting it, I'm going to pull out those sweet cards from my very first Mother's Day and they will be a precious reminder.

If you're a mommy to someone who is barely walking or maybe to someone who is having children of her own, or even somewhere in between, I hope you had a great Mother's Day. :-)

What's Wrong With Abortion?

In my first post about the tragedy of abortion, I shared the literal words of what happens in a D&E procedure. Today I saw this illustration. It's gruesome and difficult to look at, but necessary to share. You can read more about the source of the photo here.

This breaks my heart. When I was 23 weeks pregnant, I knew that I was going to have a son. We were picking out potential names for him. We were buying his crib and getting the nursery ready. I could feel him moving all around inside me, kicking, waking me up at night. I had my maternity photos taken. We were so excited about this little life growing inside of me.

What's the difference between my baby at 23 weeks and one such as the baby pictured above? Nothing other than the fact I chose to give my baby life and many mothers, for whatever reason, choose to have their precious babies dismembered and ripped from the warm and cozy womb where they once lived. 

I can't understand how any mother could knowingly and willingly pay someone to kill her baby in this manner. Maybe they just don't understand what abortion entails?

Please consider joining the National Right to Life. Please don't turn a blind eye to the horrors of abortion.