Iced-In To-Do List

• Pre-storm trip to Sherwin-Williams and Home Depot for essentials...check
• Sand armoire...check
• Remove blades and shades from pitiful old fan...check
• Spray paint fan blades...check
• Re-hang fan blades and replace shades with new frosted glass pretties...check
• Make Pioneer Woman's Linuine with Clam Sauce...realize that you can't run out for white wine in an ice storm...substitue Coors Light...ashamedly admit that it was still darn good...check
• Figure out how to move 7 ft. armoire from back porch to nursery with only one man and a pregnant chick...check (For those who are curious, never underestimate the beauty of dragging a massive piece of furniture along the floor on an old comforter!)
• Prime armoire...check
• Sew top layer of a quilt for Baby...check
• Sew two taggie blankets for Baby...check
• Thank lucky stars for half-price sale at Hancock Fabrics on New Years Day...check
• Paint armoire...Round 1...check
• Clip recipes from 2 years worth of magazines...check
• Assemble crib...check
• Paint armoire...Round 2...check
• Realize that the paint on the crib and armoire are just this much different...check
• Decide that this much different is fine...check
• Bake Pioneer Woman's French Breakfast Puffs...mmm....oohhhh...um, I mean...check
• Decide that this much different will nag our souls forever if we don't fix it...check
• Post-storm trip to Home Depot for hardware and Sherwin Williams for new paint...check
• Take cabin-fevered dog for a walk...check
• Paint armoire...Round 3...in progress
• Make Pioneer Woman's Comfort Meatballs...on deck
• Clean house...in consideration
• Laundry...to be determined

I'd say we made the best of Ice Storm 2010, wouldn't you? Pictures to come!

Becoming a Mother

This morning, Baby Boy gave me the first of what I'm sure will be many scares throughout his life. Boys are good at scaring their mamas, and apparently he decided to start early.

To spare you the nitty gritty details, I experienced some bleeding this morning. Needless to say, my heart began racing, my eyes welled up, and I wanted to just throw up with nervousness. After a few deep breaths, I went back to the bedroom to lay down, hoping to feel some movement that would reassure me that everything was ok.

Jonathan had already left for school and was in lab all morning, unable to answer his phone. I felt so alone and so scared in that moment and just tried to calm myself a bit before calling the doctor.

And this is where I must give praise to Weber the Wonder Dog. Though she had been running through the house and playing all morning, the second I went back to the bedroom she became very quiet. As I lay there, I began to hear the soft click click click click of her claws on the hardwood floor, coming my way. She gently hopped up onto the bed (in drastic contrast from her typical bounding leap), and slowly curled her little body as close to my belly as she could get. Then she stretched her neck out and rested her chin over the top of my belly, and just laid there as I called the doctor. The girl did not move a muscle. Now someone tell me that dogs do not have some human-like instincts! Somehow she just knew that I needed a bit of comfort.

I called my doctor and managed to stay calm as I explained my symptoms. They told me that a nurse would call me back shortly. Eventually the phone rang...

"Leslie, this is Ellen."

Remember Ellen from this post? Ellen is a fellow volunteer and friend from the Farmer's Market who happens to be a nurse at my doctor's office. Well the Lord knew I needed a friend this morning, because Ellen was the first person the receptionist handed my chart to!

And that's when the tears came. Something about a familiar voice and the realization that even in the midst of a stressful situation God cared enough to match me up with the one nurse I know...I just couldn't hold it in anymore. She reassured me that things were probably fine, but that she thought I should come in immediately just to be sure.

A full exam, Doppler heartbeat check, and ultrasound later, they have no idea why the bleeding occurred. The baby's hearbeat is loud and strong, he is still moving around like crazy, I have no dilation, my placenta is in the right place. All the doctor could say is that sometimes those things happen for no reason at all.

If anything, this morning reassured me of one thing.

I am this little boy's mother.

The second that I thought something could be wrong, that he could be in danger, my world just stopped. And I realized that this is just the beginning.

Throughout this pregnancy I have had to remind myself that this little boy is not mine. His life, his destiny, has been mapped out before the beginning of time by the One who knows and controls all. I can do everything in my power to protect him and keep him safe, but there are just certain things in this life that no amount of motherly love can help. And, man, is that going to be a tough lesson to learn; I have a feeling that I'll be learning it for the rest of my life.

But for today, he is just fine. And I'll never complain about getting to see his sweet profile via ultrasound one more time! That right hand was still on his forehead, and I could see him smacking his lips and opening and closing his mouth. Just happy as can be!

Oh, and besides the fact that my kid is ok and all, the big news of the day is that I weighed in at 5 pounds less than I did at my appointment last week (yes, there was definitely a bit of a breakdown following last week's weigh-in). I knew that nurse last week was in way too much of a hurry, and that I had eaten too big of a lunch, and that I had been guzzling too much water before my appointment, and that I just needed an early morning pre-breakfast weigh-in!

Who knows...maybe this week's nurse was wrong...

But for the sake of my self-esteem, I'll take the 5 pound deduction!

26 Weeks: A Letter

Dear Little Man of Mine,

You have been on my mind so much today. Of course, you are on my mind every minute of every day, but today I have been thinking about how badly I want you to know all about this experience of waiting to bring you into the world. So here it goes. Your first ever letter.

I am 26 weeks pregnant and just over three months away from my due date. It boggles my mind to think of how quickly this pregnancy is rushing by, and yet even though we haven't met I can hardly imagine life before knowing you were on your way. With the exception of a handful of typical pregnancy symptoms, this whole experience has been such a joy. I love carrying you. I love thinking about you. I love feeling you kick and turn and press your little feet and hands into my sides. I love dreaming about your future. All that to say, I love you. And it blows me away to think that those feelings are only going to grow.

I got to see you again on Wednesday. I had told my doctor about some slight cramping, and just to make sure everything was alright she opted to do an ultrasound. There you were, once again with your little right hand up at your forehead, thumb sticking out. We have seen you three times now, and every single time that right hand is up on your forehead! This time you even scratched your little head, which just about sent me over the moon. I can't wait to see if that is a typical "pose" for you once you arrive, because it definitely seems to be your thing!

I can feel you moving pretty constantly these days. Your Dad was able to feel you kick for the first time on Christmas night; what a gift! And last week, my parents both felt you kicking as well. I think you might even recognize your Grandpa's voice, because when he spoke at your Great-Grandpa Bobby's memorial service last week you started going crazy at the sound of his deep bass voice! Each night I lay in bed and just stare at my belly as you make it twitch and turn. Last night I even felt your little feet pressing against my hand!

Your Daddy is starting work on your nursery this weekend. We've picked a shade of soft grey for your walls, "Dolphin Fin" to be exact, and your bedding is being sewn by a dear family friend. Your Daddy will also be refinishing an armoire to hold all of your things, and the very rocking chair that his mother rocked him in when he was a baby. Something tells me that you and I are going to spend a lot of quality time in that chair! I am so excited to create a space for you in our home. We're going to be cozy, but I think it is going to be perfect.

As you can tell from the beginning of this letter, we still have not settled on your name. This has been one of the hardest parts of planning for your arrival! Finding a name that we both love and that has some meaning to us has been difficult. It isn't made any easier by the fact that your Daddy can think of every possible bad nickname that can be created from a name. He's already looking out for you, Buddy, don't you worry! We're determined to settle something in the next few weeks, and I can't wait to start calling you by name.

I'll be honest with you, baby. In the past few weeks I have started to feel a bit overwhelmed by what it is going to mean to be your mother. Because I love you so much already, I want so badly to be the best mother to you that I can possibly be. And that is an intimidating, daunting task that I know I cannot accomplish on my own. I'm going to need your Daddy, I'm going to need our families, I'm going to need my friends, but most of all I am going to need my Jesus. Because without Him, every good thing that I can offer you in this world means nothing. And that is what I am resting in as I prepare for this journey of motherhood. I hope that one day you can look back on your childhood and see a mother who loved you to pieces, but loved Jesus more. And I pray that you will come to know and love Him too.

Your Dad and I have been singing and dancing to this little song that has been popular in the past few months, and it sums up our feelings for you pretty well...

And I know some day that it’ll all turn out,
You'll make me work so we can work to work it out.
And I promise you kid that I give so much more than I get
I just haven't met you yet.

I might have to wait, I’ll never give up,
I guess it's half timin', and the other half's luck,
Wherever you are,Whenever it's right,
You'll come outta nowhere and into my life.

And I know that we can be so amazin',
And baby your love is gonna change me,
And now I can see every possibility

Somehow I know that it’ll all turn out,
You'll make me work so we can work to work it out,
And promise you kid, I'll give so much more than I get
I just haven't met you yet.

I can't wait to meet you, Little Man.

Love,
Mama

How Low Can You Go? Or, The Maternity Pant Dilemma

Part of the fun (and I use the term "fun" quite loosely here) of pregnancy is navigating the wide world of maternity wear. Let's discuss.

Maternity clothes are tricky. You must buy a bit before the battle of the bulge begins, because heaven forbid you wake up one morning and every pair of work-appropriate pants refuses to zip. However, there is no way of knowing how your body is going to grow and which kinds of clothes are going to best accomodate your baby hotel of a body. Sure, you should be able to just buy your pre-pregnancy size and be just fine, but it isn't quite so easy.

For example, in my first multi-item purchase from Old Navy maternity, I ordered a great pair of pants for work. When they arrived, I found that the hips and thighs fit just about perfectly, but that the belly was still bulging at my waist. So I put them in the closet, knowing that in a couple of months they would be just right.

Over the weekend, however, I tried on all of the clothes in my closet to figure out which non-maternity items were past their "Look! It still zips!" point and into their "Wow! I don't remember this being a crop top..." point. I pulled out that pair of Old Navy pants and was so sad to realize that I had missed their peak. That once huge belly is now just a tinsy bit snug, and I can probably only get a few weeks out of them before they more closely resemble sausage casing. Lesson learned.

Beyond size-estimation issues, there is the question of waistbands. Low rise, mid-rise, full-panel. The options abound. But I have discovered through trial and error that I have a fierce loyalty to the full-panel, unattractive as they may be on their own.

See these low-rise pants from Old Navy? They would love for you to believe that you could bust them out and still feel like your stylish, pre-pregnancy self. No elastic up to your bra line, no support panel. Just good old-fashioned pants.

But I am here to tell you that is a lie! These suckers might look adorable when you try them on, but consider this: now that you've added a soccer ball to your waistline, your hips are no longer the convenient shelf for holding up your britches. If anything, your hips are now smaller than your waist and completely worthless to you altogether. So sure, they'll look cute for about 30 minutes, but sit, squat, or walk about for a bit and you'll be hiking those suckers up for the rest of the day!

Before you know it, you'll have a severe complex, constantly fearing that in one fatal move your pants could be around your ankles, displaying your low rise maternity thong for all the world to see. While that would make a fantastic story for the blog, I don't think I could wish that on my worst enemy.

And let's not even get started on how the low- or mid-rise pants leave an attractive line across your belly under all but the most loosely flowing maternity tops, screaming "My Elastic Ends Here" to anyone who happens to glance at or touch your belly.

So, my friends, I must declare my unwavering devotion to the full-panel maternity pant.

Behold:

Sure, it's not the most attractive thing in the world. Yes, my coworkers have offered me $50 to come to work with my blouse tucked into my chest-high elastic waist (depending on how we make out at our baby showers, that just might be worth it.... ;) But they are there for you!

Gone are the days of chronic pant-hiking! Banished are the visible elastic lines! Your belly is swaddled in a snug little pouch of support, with nothing but a smooth bump to show off to the world.

To conclude, I must give an endorsement to Old Navy maternity. I have found that they have the most stylish selection at the most affordable prices and at a reasonably good quality for the price, especially for tops and dresses. Which leads to my second endorsement: maternity dresses are just smart. They are comfortable, versatile, and give you the most wear for the longest amount of time.

And rest assured that if I ever get the guts to tuck my top into my full-panel pants for profit, I will be sure to post a picture. But only after setting up a Pay-Pal account for your donations. ;)

I'd Take a Bullet For You

• I have never been so thankful for a three-day weekend in my entire life. After returning home from my whirlwind trip to Colorado, I was pooped. This weekend was spent in an exhausted haze, and I'm pretty sure I experienced my first bouts of pregnancy horomone-induced weepiness. Luckily, I got that out of my system with some good R&R on Saturday and Sunday, and by Monday I was ready to be productive.

• Speaking of productive, we are having to do some major nesting in order to rearrange our home for Baby Boy. The guest room/study will become the nursery, which means cleaning out one large piece of furniture, the hidden underbelly of a queen size bed, and then the living room cabinet and closet that must now house the things that formerly lived in the guest room. Whew! I am proud to say that in one day of "work for an hour, veg for an hour" we were able to knock out everything but the living room closet. Progress! This weekend Jonathan will paint the nursery while I tackle the closet and transform it into Jonathan's new "office in a closet."

• Between Christmas Break, New Mexico, and Colorado, I have worked three days in the past month. When you do that, you return to your office and find 150+ emails waiting for you. And then it takes the entire day to hack through them. And then you cry.

• I polished off several fantastic books over the past few weeks, one of which was Molly Wizenberg's debut, A Homemade Life. Stories about food and recipes. My cup of tea. I have enjoyed Molly's writing via Orangette and Bon Appetit for a few years now, so I couldn't wait to get my sticky fingers on this one. It did not disappoint, and neither did her Banana Bread with Chocolate and Crystallized Ginger which I whipped up last night. Highly recommend. For more on my latest reads, check the list at right.

• This warmer weather is such a relief. Stay and play awhile, please.

• I'm going to be an aunt! My brother and his wife just announced that they are expecting in late August or early September, so Baby Boy is going to have a cousin just a few months apart in age. Won't that be fun? Needless to say, the grandparents are beside themselves.

• That is all. I promise a real post very soon. Thanks for being patient with me during my little funk over the past few weeks...

Bobby.

I'm sipping an Arnold Palmer, gazing at Pikes Peak, and finally reconnecting with the "real world" via Starbucks free wireless and a borrowed laptop. I needed to get out. It has been a crazy week, and I am emotionally and physically exhausted. And yet at peace.

Jonathan and I left Memphis last Wednesday night for a ski trip to New Mexico with his three best friends from OBU and their wives. We had been awaiting this trip for months and thought I couldn't join the crowd on the slopes, I couldn't wait to waste a few days by a roaring fire with a stack of books, a cup of cocoa, and a slice of Sipapu's famous four-berry pie. No cell phone service. Completely disconnected. Completely relaxed.

And I did that for a day.

But on Saturday morning, our friend Dustin knocked on the door of our cabin at 8:30 a.m. He told me that there was a note taped to the front desk saying that Leslie or Jonathan Poe needed to call Ramsey. My brother. Something was not right. I threw on a coat and boots and trudged over to the lodge, my heart and mind racing. Deep breaths. Don't panic. It could be nothing. But I knew it was something. Brothers who call a few times a month don't track you down at remote ski resorts and have signs posted for you.

I borrowed phone and after a few tries finally managed to get the long distance number to work.

It was Bobby. My grandfather. After three years with an aneurysm, it had finally given way and ended his life of 88 years. He took his final breath as his wife and daughter serenaded him with his favorite hymns. As they describe it, his face went from an expression of anguished pain to a tender, peaceful smile in a second. He is so obviously with our Lord now.

Tears flowed. Partially from sadness. Partially from relief. In the fifteen minutes since that knock on the door I had crafted all sorts of possible tragedies; at least this one was somewhat timely. Not expected, but not a surprise.

To try to sum up this man in a blog post is impossible. What I can say is that Bob Horn, who I affectionately called Bobby, is one of the greatest men I have ever known. He feared the Lord, he immersed himself in his Word; even when he had lost his eyesight, he still listened to the Bible on CD for hours each day. He was also a lifelong learner, an aging man who kept his mind open to a changing world. In the months before his death, his selection of books on CD included Thomas Friedman's The World is Flat, a history of the Islamic faith, and a synopsis of modern economics. He integrated his faith with his worldview seamlessly, and I will always respect that beautiful balance in his life. Oh, to grow old as Bobby grew old! Such dignity, grace, and humility. May we all have such wisdom.

Bobby had a killer sense of humor. He loved jelly beans and gumdrops, the nightly news, Mack the Knife, the Denver Broncos, and the Colorado Rockies. He was thrilled to have a great-grandson. Our last conversation was when I called from the doctor's office to tell him that it was a boy. We toyed around with the idea of this kid inheriting his baseball talent; Bobby was offered a contract with the St. Louis Cardinals, which he turned down in order to stay home and take a job at the Iowa State Capitol building to help his family. His sacrifice paid off when he met my grandmother there in the snack bar.

And that, perhaps, is his greatest legacy to me. His marriage to my grandmother, Betty, lasted 66 years. Sixty six years of witty banter, tender care, best friendship, and pursuit of Christ. If you have ever visited my home, you've probably noticed the old black-and-white framed photos of those two lovebirds back in their Iowa courting days. Their marriage is such a model for Jonathan and me, and I pray that we can be such an example of God's love through our marriage as they were to us.

There is so much more to say. But I will close with his favorite hymn, which we will sing tomorrow with joy as we close his memorial service. When I sing this song, I see Bobby in his favorite recliner, head back, eyes closed, smiling and singing....

There's within my heart a melody
Jesus whispers sweet and low
Fear not I am with thee, peace be still
In all of life's ebb and flow

Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!
Sweetest name I know
Fills my every longing
Keeps me singing as I go!

Soon he's coming back to welcome me
Far beyond the starry sky
I shall wing my flight to worlds unknown
I shall reign with him on high!

Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!
Sweetest name I know
Fills my every longing
Keeps me singing as I go!

Feed Me, Seymour!

My appetite is out. of. control.

Remember that scene from Griswold's European Vacation when Audrey is dreaming about a never-ending stream of food coming toward her? Well let's just say that I could totally hang with Audrey right about now. I feel like I could eat a full meal every hour!

The only thing that is keeping me from doing that is the fact that it is 25 degrees outside and there are no food options in my building. I have already whipped through my stash of healthy snacks for the day and am trying my darndest to make sure that most of those calories are coming from healthy stuff and not junk.

Kinda like last night when I ate six Oatmeal Crispies within an hour after baking them.

Oh, how I wish that were an exaggeration.