Snapshot

Every moment we are given life and breath is a snapshot.

You are living one right now, and so am I.

Since you're kind enough to stop by the Coffee Cottage, I'll give you a glimps into mine at this moment.

I'm sitting on a chair, trying to eat scraps of toast and egg that I made for myself (the cook is always last to eat, right?). Annie keeps coming up and asking for 'ausage' (a microwaved sausage) in such a polite, coy way, I cannot refuse. I didn't really want it anyway.

In between her sausage coupe, she and her older brother are throwing throws over their heads and pretending to be monsters, which lends itself to fun and foolishness, as they completely run into walls and corners. Unless they are profusely bleeding or showing signs of a concussion, I ignore it.

My little Hurricane (or, if you are familiar with PA Dutch in any capacity, I call her my little 'nix nux') is trying to get her little chubby feet into my slippers, usurp a blanket from her sister, screeching, running, filling her third dirty within an hour, climbing every ledge and porous place that she can dig even a toenail into--all pretty much simultaneously. SHE. DOES. NOT.STOP.

EVER.

Curt just called to say I love you. It is things like this that remind me how fortunate I am. (just caught the floor lamp with my left hand.). It also makes me jealous he is in a quiet car on some highway or byway, listening to silence. He's probably still whiplashed from the sheet slapping he got early this morning when little Ray got me out of bed for the 8 zillionth time and in my utter frustration, I did the classic wife move of removing the sheets (which never had time to get warm) off my body in what one might call and 'abrupt and forceful' manner...causing high winds to potentially wake the dead-or at least leave an imprint on the other's form.

One child just bit the other...reinforcing my decision to answer our phone from now on with the cheery greeting "Miller Zoo! How can I help you?" (and get to the point. fast). They were quickly discipline and forced to hug and say sorry. Stupid tactic, I know. :)

The twins are tucked safely behind a gate, into a 5-point harnass strap seat placed squarely in the center of our kitchen table. They are plumb tuckered out after a night of losing their nuks and being wide eyed and bushy tailed. They must have had a disco ball in the womb that turned on around 11pm. It is imperative that I teach them that this is not normal (and call the hospital and see if that mirrored party thing came out with the placenta).

Oh, and did I mention our living area looks like a series of small tornados went through it? Yes, well, I'm ok with it because we are still alive.

This snapshot has been typed out in about 5 minutes. No thinking things through, just a random wind of inspiration to update you and it has to be done quickly and with a LOT of tolerance for distraction.

It's real life and it's my life, and I am confident that God is going to give this very impatient, noise intolerant and very human woman what she needs to do get 'er done. Thankfully, He has a sense of humor and His total view of me is filtered by pure love...no expecations or dissappointment when He sees that on October 27th I stayed sleeping during my one hour of sleep instead of waking to read His inspired book. He knows why I talk to Him during the day in one sentence, many times one word ("HELP!!!!!") quips...and He smiles during it all. I know it, He's not a stiff, impersonal God. He made me, He allowed the circumstances that surround me, and He's flexible and equipping. And that's about as deep as I can go right now.

Love to you all! (I'll doing birthing story stuff in a post in about 20 years. Stay tuned.)