is the name of our daughter, who is more commonly known as Sophia Charis (hard "k"). My beautiful girl turns 6 years old today- unbelievable. Oh, to think back in time to six years ago (minus 8 or so months)...

The spring of 2000 found us in the midst of many changes. Rob had graduated from seminary and accepted a pastoral position, and we were preparing to move to Brentwood, CA. We settled into our home mid-May and jumped headfirst into life and ministry. But my pants were getting tight. Hmmmm. Even with all the running around, half-eaten meals, and crazy schedules, I was gaining weight. And suddenly I didn't love Frappuccinos (should have been a BIG clue).

Sophia was my fourth pregnancy, so I knew how to handle the whole I-am-nauseous-all-day thing pretty well. Oddly, though, she was my absolute worst pregnancy, physically speaking. My bones and joints- well, they did things. Things I'm not sure are anatomically normal. For example, one night (when I was roughly 8 months pregnant) Rob had an elders' meeting at the church, so I planned for a nice long bath after Harrison and Eli went to bed. And it was a nice bath. Vanilla sugar bubbles, candles, a good book, and a sharp razor (for the legs, people). I must have enjoyed that bath for almost an hour when I decided to get out and have a cup of cocoa. I flipped the drain thingy with my toe and started to get up when I couldn't. Get up, that is. My hip joints were literally frozen stiff. I dried my hand on the towel and grabbed the phone that, thankfully, I had taken into the bathroom with me. The following conversation went something like this:


*Thankfully we only lived 1.5 miles from the church*
Rob walked in the house and into the bathroom. He took one look at me and burst out laughing. "You really are stuck in there aren't you?" Okay, so he finally got me out of the tub and settled with my mug of cocoa.

Anyway. There were many "false starts" with my dear baby girl. Her due date was February 14, 2001. As you can see from this post's date, that date was not realized! She started trying to come around mid-January and finally arrived at 37 weeks. What a birth! I went to the hospital because something just didn't "feel right," and I discovered I was 4-5 cm. But there were no contractions. I told my midwife I wanted to eat and then I wanted her to break my water. She laughed and said, "Okay." Apparently there were many women giving birth that day, because the anesthesiologist was literally pushing a cart from room-to-room. I looked at Rob and told him I wanted to try one. "One what?" he asked. "An epidural," was my reply. He looked at me like I was crazy and said, "You're not even in pain." I was very patient in my reasoning with him. "Yes, honey, I know that. But by the time I am in pain, it will be too late. I just want to see what it's like." So I did. Long story short- it was great for the actual delivery, but terrible afterward. I couldn't walk for 24 hours. Correction, I probably could have walked, I just couldn't feel my legs. And when the doc pulled that stuff out of my back, well, let's just say if I had seen it before the epidural, I never would have gotten one.

So to my precious baby girl, Happy Birthday.

*You weighed 6 lbs 4 oz at birth and were tiny.
*You nursed like a champ for 2 days and then you completely shut down (probably to save yourself from drowning, but that's another post).
*At 6 weeks of age you began to nurse again, and you wouldn't even look at a bottle without crying.
*"Buddha- girl" pretty much sums up your physical appearance as a baby.
*You were generally in a bad mood for the first 8 weeks of your life. Then something magical happened (I like to think it was answered prayer), and you were transformed into a grinning, spit-blowing rolypoly.
*You didn't (or wouldn't) walk until the ripe old age of 16 and 1/2 months. Exactly 2 weeks before your brother Kirk was born.
*You started taking off your diaper- for fun- in the middle of the night around 18 months old. Now those were some fun (smelling) times. Your daddy solved that by using duct-tape in a horizontal fashion around your midsection on the diaper ;)
*You love pasta. (my "pasta girl")
*You adore your brothers.
*You love shopping and trying on clothes. (How are you my child?)
*You taught yourself- by sheer determination and skinned knees- how to ride a two-wheeler in one afternoon.
*You love school.
*You love "toe polly" (polish).
*One time Grandma called for you and you said, "I can't come right now. I'm looking for God."
*You love to sing praise and worship songs and will frequently tell me, "This is a great song."

There is so much about the mystery that is you, Sophia, that cannot be conveyed on the blogosphere. But your daddy and I pray daily that the Lord will draw you to Himself, and that He will grow you into a wise and gracious woman after His own heart.

So, I was reading a familiar blog today, and Kathryn asked for some favorite baby mispronunciations. Boy, could I write a book about that!! (So why don't I....) While there are many mis-sayings that are quite funny (remember, 4 kiddos from 11 to 4), there is one in particular that really stands out- but if you are easily offended, stop reading.



Still here? Okay, then, let's go down that road known as "Memory Lane".....We were living in Brentwood, CA (not the OJ Simpson neighborhood, but the one in northern CA), and I was pregnant with Sophia. Harrison was 4 and Eli had just turned 2. Now, just as background info, when I am pregnant, sometimes I am bombarded with an overwhelming urge to decorate- or in this particular case, redecorate. And so the urge hit while I was in the boys' bathroom. I noticed how beige everything was. I started thinking toward the next summer when I would begin- hopefully- pottytraining Eli. It's not very exciting to begin one's life-long potty habits in a beige bathroom. Wouldn't it be fun to make it more stimulating? More of a boy-I-just-can't-wait-for-the-next-potty-time sort of room.

Fortunately, Rob and the budget agreed with me, so I left to find that perfect decor. I returned shortly thereafter, armed with all the supplies and accessories for a tropical fish bathroom. There was a great fish-shaped rug, a clear plastic rinse cup imprinted with tropical fish, two bath and hand towels with said fish, and a really cool Martha Stewart blue and white plaid fabric tie-top shower curtain. I found various sizes of tropical fish stencils on clearance, so I bought those, along with some paint. Rob suggested that it would be better for him to take the boys out of the house for about 2 or 3 hours so I could work uninterrupted. Great idea! I started the next morning, and I was pleased with how everything turned out. Rob called and asked if I was ready for him and the boys to come on home and I gave him the "O-kay."

When they came in, Rob had Harrison and Eli cover their eyes and walk into the bathroom for the "unveiling." When they opened their eyes, Harrison just smiled, hugged me, and said, "Thanks Momma. I really like the fish." Eli, on the other hand, was completely speechless. His big blue eyes were the size of saucers. Finally, he looked at me and said, "Oh, Momma. Look at the beautiful b*tches! I REALLY like those b*tches!"

We were completely stupefied. We tried all day to teach him "F-f-f-f-fish"- but to no avail. So, of course, when two elders and wives from church came for supper that night, Eli immediately grabbed their hands, dragging them to the bathroom to see the b*tches that Momma painted!!!

Life abundant and the redneck painter!!! Thank you, Lord, for your blessings. Christmas morning found me sweeping the kitchen floor after breakfast, and I began praying for our friends. I prayed that there would be three of them celebrating Christmas next year. I asked specifically that the Lord would open the womb of my friend, but if not, that He would bless them with a child through adoption. Imagine my surprise when I found out that very day that God had already answered so many prayers!!

So, hop on over to drop a line of encouragement. She's praying for twins, you know.