Dear Father,
"You can't honor God without earnestly seeking Him." Holy Spirit through Gary Plauger.
This is what has been sticking with me today. It holds so much conviction for me because I don't earnestly seek You. I need to start this letter out with asking You to forgive me. I'm embarrassed that this is who I am. I claim to have things together, but really they're not. I lie to myself and say that "I'm okay just the way I am," "You're not lazy, you just want to relax and watch some TV." But really these are just cop outs to me being selfish with my time. I always put TV before so much, this is the part thats embarrassing. God I have the TV on every time I feed Lola, this makes me cry. She so used to being ignored while she eats that now when someone else feeds her and is talking she's so happy she just wants to smile and not eat. Jesus forgive me for this addiction that I have of TV that pulls me away from my family, and most of all You. I wake up and it's so easy to turn on the TV and let that fill my day, instead of making memories with Diego and Lola.
Wow I didn't realize how much this affects me. This is why I didn't want the big TV, because I know it's an addiction for me. But I see it in Diego as well, this breaks my heart because we'll sit and watch TV and let it dictate when we eat, when we talk (during little breaks) and when we go to bed. TV dictates how much activity I get, TV is evil. God this breaks my heart! This is why I used to get so angry when Diego would be on his iphone when I didn't have one. But now that I have one, it's just as I always feared, we sit side by side not talking but connecting with people outside of us. This is why I used to want to throw the TV out the window. But I stopped fighting and now I feel like it's taking the life out of my family.
God forgive me for not helping my husband see this, and help him to see how much this affects both of us. I feel trapped by TV, I feel so lonely at home that TV has become my friend. I can be okay being home alone because I can watch other people be with their friends and family. I feel like I'm dumbing myself down by choosing TV and I'm ashamed.
God help me to be the helper that Diego needs and the mother Lola needs.
Give me strength and will power. I take full responsibility for letting this addiction happen and escalate, but now I need Diego's help and Yours. HELP!
Love Your daughter,
Lindsay
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Crazy little thing called BEAUTY
What is beauty? Who determines who and what is beautiful? Why does it feel so important to be beautiful?
Haven't we all asked these questions or heard some speaker try to answer these? I feel like I get the mom response from them though, "it's not whats on the outside that counts, it's whats on the inside that really matters." Yes this may be true, but don't we all think the same thing, "oh man I must be not be beautiful, or else my mom wouldn't say the 'whats on the inside counts line,' or 'she's my mom she has to say that,' right? This is the case for me at least, and this is how I feel about beauty concerning myself, my culture and my future.
Growing up my sister was what I wanted to look like, actually what most woman want to look like, tall, blonde, curves in all the right places, perfect smooth hair and style. I for one don't fit this picture at all, especially not when I was a teenager. I always felt like I lived in the shadow of her beauty. I was the "funny one" but isn't that what girl who aren't beautiful do to be noticed. To say "hey yeah my sisters gorgeous but look at me (or at least hear what I have to say.)" Humor is a little bit of a guard I have that makes the awkward go away or lessons the pain of reality. But back to the focus, beauty, my sister isn't someone who I'd consider overly confident in her looks. Isn't this the sad reality that the beautiful girls never see there beauty. Some show fake modesty concerning their looks, but not my sister, I still don't think to this day she knows how beautiful she is. So coming up to present day, my sister lives out of town and when she moved away I felt like the shadow lifted. Don't get me wrong I love my sister dearly and miss her like crazy! But all the sudden I wasn't living with someone I daily compared my hair, stomach, and butt too. I know how shallow I sound, but if you are honest with yourself you probably have a person in your life you do the same thing to, even if she's on TV or movies. So I started feeling like I was thin enough and even embraced my hair more once I learned how to do it. This is how I've defined beauty for as long as I can remember then I got pregnant...dun dun dun.
This is where things start to change, as did my body of course. I suddenly wasn't confident in the skin I was in, understandably so when you gain 60 pounds in 9 months. My husband loved my new curves but I didn't care, I felt disgusting. I would ask my hubby if I looked this way to him and he was offended that I would even use this word to describe myself, but this is truly what I felt I looked like. The day I ripped my maternity jeans was a new low, that I don't know if I've gotten out of completely yet. But the whole time I was pregnant I was holding onto the hope that I would turn out like my mom and sister after their kids, super thin with few stretch marks. But to my horror after I had my beautiful baby girl, I looked down and saw that this was not going to the case. My legs had always been a vain point in my life, and they will never be again, I look and see that while I was pregnant a wild animal wrecked havoc on my thighs and hips! If I ever find this animal it better run! (See how I use humor to cover my pain?) But seriously, I was devastated! Everyone kept telling me that I looked great for just having a baby, but I never believed them. I mean granite I did look better, but I wan't myself and this broke my heart. I love my baby and would never change that part of my life, this is just me sharing how hard it is to have your definition of beauty rocked. At 3 weeks postpartum I started exercising, thinking that I have to get this weight off and get it off now! The weight is a constant reminder of all the pain I went through and the trauma it left me with. I want it gone and to never come back, the weight reminds me of how it felt to live at 200 pounds on my 5'4" frame. It reminds me that I'm not beautiful.
Today I'm 9 weeks 1 day postpartum, I'm done feeling sorry for myself. Done feeling like I have to live up to standards that aren't attainable for my body. Done feeling like I'm not good enough, not worthy for my husband to touch because of the ripples on my unperfected body. I'm done not feeling beautiful! I'm redirecting my focus of beauty, not the mom version but my version. My beauty is my smile that shines on the people I love, my hands that pick up my crying daughter, my breasts are the safe, warm place my husband lays his head at night, in my hair that holds only the color I was created to have. My beauty is held in how much I value the body that has been given to me, and it holds as you can see great value to me.
Haven't we all asked these questions or heard some speaker try to answer these? I feel like I get the mom response from them though, "it's not whats on the outside that counts, it's whats on the inside that really matters." Yes this may be true, but don't we all think the same thing, "oh man I must be not be beautiful, or else my mom wouldn't say the 'whats on the inside counts line,' or 'she's my mom she has to say that,' right? This is the case for me at least, and this is how I feel about beauty concerning myself, my culture and my future.
Growing up my sister was what I wanted to look like, actually what most woman want to look like, tall, blonde, curves in all the right places, perfect smooth hair and style. I for one don't fit this picture at all, especially not when I was a teenager. I always felt like I lived in the shadow of her beauty. I was the "funny one" but isn't that what girl who aren't beautiful do to be noticed. To say "hey yeah my sisters gorgeous but look at me (or at least hear what I have to say.)" Humor is a little bit of a guard I have that makes the awkward go away or lessons the pain of reality. But back to the focus, beauty, my sister isn't someone who I'd consider overly confident in her looks. Isn't this the sad reality that the beautiful girls never see there beauty. Some show fake modesty concerning their looks, but not my sister, I still don't think to this day she knows how beautiful she is. So coming up to present day, my sister lives out of town and when she moved away I felt like the shadow lifted. Don't get me wrong I love my sister dearly and miss her like crazy! But all the sudden I wasn't living with someone I daily compared my hair, stomach, and butt too. I know how shallow I sound, but if you are honest with yourself you probably have a person in your life you do the same thing to, even if she's on TV or movies. So I started feeling like I was thin enough and even embraced my hair more once I learned how to do it. This is how I've defined beauty for as long as I can remember then I got pregnant...dun dun dun.
This is where things start to change, as did my body of course. I suddenly wasn't confident in the skin I was in, understandably so when you gain 60 pounds in 9 months. My husband loved my new curves but I didn't care, I felt disgusting. I would ask my hubby if I looked this way to him and he was offended that I would even use this word to describe myself, but this is truly what I felt I looked like. The day I ripped my maternity jeans was a new low, that I don't know if I've gotten out of completely yet. But the whole time I was pregnant I was holding onto the hope that I would turn out like my mom and sister after their kids, super thin with few stretch marks. But to my horror after I had my beautiful baby girl, I looked down and saw that this was not going to the case. My legs had always been a vain point in my life, and they will never be again, I look and see that while I was pregnant a wild animal wrecked havoc on my thighs and hips! If I ever find this animal it better run! (See how I use humor to cover my pain?) But seriously, I was devastated! Everyone kept telling me that I looked great for just having a baby, but I never believed them. I mean granite I did look better, but I wan't myself and this broke my heart. I love my baby and would never change that part of my life, this is just me sharing how hard it is to have your definition of beauty rocked. At 3 weeks postpartum I started exercising, thinking that I have to get this weight off and get it off now! The weight is a constant reminder of all the pain I went through and the trauma it left me with. I want it gone and to never come back, the weight reminds me of how it felt to live at 200 pounds on my 5'4" frame. It reminds me that I'm not beautiful.
Today I'm 9 weeks 1 day postpartum, I'm done feeling sorry for myself. Done feeling like I have to live up to standards that aren't attainable for my body. Done feeling like I'm not good enough, not worthy for my husband to touch because of the ripples on my unperfected body. I'm done not feeling beautiful! I'm redirecting my focus of beauty, not the mom version but my version. My beauty is my smile that shines on the people I love, my hands that pick up my crying daughter, my breasts are the safe, warm place my husband lays his head at night, in my hair that holds only the color I was created to have. My beauty is held in how much I value the body that has been given to me, and it holds as you can see great value to me.
Crazy lil thing called DIGNITY
"What do you think of when you hear the word dignity? ...who do you think of? How do you picture dignity? Is it something you aspire to be? What would you change about yourself to be dignified?"- Rosalie de Rosset
When I think of the word dignity, I think of Michele Perry. A women who has never been married, purposefully lived on the streets in TX just to be able to reach those that are in need. She has one leg, but lives in Sudan as the "mother" of 100+ children. I think about how hard it can be to have 1 baby, and both my legs, I have yet to attain the selflessness she has to do this and do it well. The characteristic that makes me think of her in regards to dignity has to be her love, her love for God, her love for people and her love for herself. She speaks the truth even when it hurts (Psalm 15) she is courageous and stands for and speaks for those who can't. She doesn't let Satan get the best of her, because she is constantly giving the best of her away to others. She makes choices by walking in faith and know that God will always catch her when she leaps out. Dignity in how she carries herself on her crutches through the African bush. She is someone I look up to and hope to meet one day.
I do aspire to be dignified, I want to learn how to always have self- respect and be self- confident. I think those are the two starting points, without learning these first how can I speak, how can I carry myself in a dignified manner if I don't have the "self" about me to know what I think and that I'm grounded in it. I have to realized first that I'm not trying to be confident in how I look, it's about being confident and respecting who I am and who I aspire to be.
Self- possessed: Someone who has control of her longings and attendant feelings and behavior especially when under pressure.
This is what I truly desire. This is an area of weakness for me, I've always wanted to be able to express myself in public with control and poise without the regret of replay in my mind. I want to have the maturity to be able to control my tongue but also to use it with wisdom and discretion in my facial expressions.
"She is clothed with strength and dignity"- Proverbs 31:25
I feel like strength and dignity are my armor of God. I have to put on, clothe myself, in these areas. I have to cover myself daily with strength to stand as Lindsay Benhumea and know that that is enough. I have to cover myself daily with dignity to understand how to make choices that are righteous.
When I think of the word dignity, I think of Michele Perry. A women who has never been married, purposefully lived on the streets in TX just to be able to reach those that are in need. She has one leg, but lives in Sudan as the "mother" of 100+ children. I think about how hard it can be to have 1 baby, and both my legs, I have yet to attain the selflessness she has to do this and do it well. The characteristic that makes me think of her in regards to dignity has to be her love, her love for God, her love for people and her love for herself. She speaks the truth even when it hurts (Psalm 15) she is courageous and stands for and speaks for those who can't. She doesn't let Satan get the best of her, because she is constantly giving the best of her away to others. She makes choices by walking in faith and know that God will always catch her when she leaps out. Dignity in how she carries herself on her crutches through the African bush. She is someone I look up to and hope to meet one day.
I do aspire to be dignified, I want to learn how to always have self- respect and be self- confident. I think those are the two starting points, without learning these first how can I speak, how can I carry myself in a dignified manner if I don't have the "self" about me to know what I think and that I'm grounded in it. I have to realized first that I'm not trying to be confident in how I look, it's about being confident and respecting who I am and who I aspire to be.
Self- possessed: Someone who has control of her longings and attendant feelings and behavior especially when under pressure.
This is what I truly desire. This is an area of weakness for me, I've always wanted to be able to express myself in public with control and poise without the regret of replay in my mind. I want to have the maturity to be able to control my tongue but also to use it with wisdom and discretion in my facial expressions.
"She is clothed with strength and dignity"- Proverbs 31:25
I feel like strength and dignity are my armor of God. I have to put on, clothe myself, in these areas. I have to cover myself daily with strength to stand as Lindsay Benhumea and know that that is enough. I have to cover myself daily with dignity to understand how to make choices that are righteous.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Crazy little thing called TESTIMONY
"Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living." Luke 15:13
When I was 12 I was washing the dishes one night, and I always listened to my cd's with headphones on while washing. I was listening to Phil Joels first cd, and Jesus touched my broken heart. You could say, you were only 12 and that was before Lady Gaga and the sexualzation of children, what could you be broken hearted about. I struggled my whole life, I mean whole life with sexual sin, from a very young age I felt like I was dirty and lived in shame. Puberty was a living hell, as I tried my hardest to combat this sexual force driving me at a young age. But that day washing the dishes and listening to music, I realized I couldn't combat this on my own and I wanted to feel clean. Like the dishes I was washing I needed to be washing clean with the blood of Christ. I knew this being raised in a God fearing home (thank You JESUS!) I went into the bathroom, the only place of solitude in a small house, and got on my face, and cried out in my heart for God to help me. I felt so lost and confused in my mind and needed to be free from the bondage of shame. Of course at 12 I didn't realize how much shame I was carrying. I confessed the sins I was aware of and got of the floor, sparkling clean.
After this God encounter, I was a changed little girl. I loved reading my Bible and studied it with my Bible dictionary for hours a day! Still listening to music the whole time, I was daily filled and couldn't get enough. I found a new love in writing, it didn't matter what style I was writing in either. Poetry was my main focus, not rhyming poems but beautiful ones about how glorious Christ is and how I can see His face and feel Him always. Jesus was truly my best friend.
The thing about Satan is that he is very subtle. If you leave the front door to your heart open just a crack he will transform into something that looks safe and slip in oh so stealthily. That is exactly what he did with me. At 15 I went to a Christian school, and suddenly I didn't have the hours to spend with my Best Friend. I didn't have my solitude to recharge in. All I was surrounded by was superficiality, and I didn't know how to fit into that. People were having sex, struggling with eating disorders, and vanity. I felt lost in this small school. Thankfully I had Bible class, which I aced without effort. I was still a good girl, breaking up with my first boyfriend because he wanted to kiss me and he swore. I was very strong in what i believed and didn't care what people thought of me. Which carried into the rest of my life, not in the best way.
Jump forward to 17, had a boyfriend that I would loose my virginity to. He was abusive in every way, I was controlled in every aspect of my life. I thought I was just being a good girl friend. My old fashion ideology failed me by not questioning him and not questioning myself. My Dad eventually rescued me from this relationship by making me choose "him or your family." It sounds really harsh looking back, but it needed to be done. My Dad knew that this was the only way to break the spell he had on me. That was that. But from then on I took sex and myself not very seriously. I forgot about my Best Friend, He couldn't make me feel the way these boys did. To be honest I can't see why I would stop talking to Him, but like I said I left the door of my sexuality open. I never wanted Him to control this area for me. This was mine! I had to control it, no one else. I became promiscuous and didn't care, I even got back with the boy that took my virginity just so I could sleep with him and never talk to him again, in hopes to hurt him like he hurt me. Instead it just made me feel more shameful. I buried everything, and my shovel to bury it with was alcohol. I loved the stuff, it made me happy when I thought it was impossible. I made me feel loved when I couldn't love myself. But what I loved the most was that it made me forget for a little bit what I had done, what had been done to me, and what kind of life I was going to have if I continued. I would tell myself that I wasn't an alcoholic, I was just having fun. But I realized that the only days I didn't drink were hang over days. This didn't stop me, I loved tequila, I kept a bottle in my closet(like symbolism much?) I would travel to parties with a bottle in my trunk, or a flask in my purse. I was underage this whole time. I had also issues with failure since a finance broke up with me and I quit the USAF. Then I met a guy who needed me, we were very codependent and toxic to each other. But he was a constant reminder that I was running away from my Best Friend. This guy didn't believe in God, that there was one, that He created the heavens and the Earth, that He was the one who first stole heart. This made me face head on if I would defend my God who's face I'd spit in for years or continue to send Him to voice mail. For over a year of being with this guy I did hit the ignore button on God. But since I had the Holy Spirit in me since I was 12 and baptism of the Holy Spirit since I was 14, He was constantly making me face my choices. I was like I was running down a black ally and the faster I would run the more He would put a screen in front of my eyes of Him on the cross for me. Not a guilt ridden, "This is what I did for you," but rather, "Come take up your cross and follow Me." I didn't want to, but then I started getting scared every time I would drive, I would think, "where will I go if I crash?" "if i do make it to heaven, what will God the Father say to me, and will Jesus have a disappointed look?" "will I get into heaven by the skin of my teeth?" "Do I deserve to even think that I could get into heaven?" I had these thoughts almost daily, but I would try to ignore them till my next shot of liquor or sexual escaped. These were my distractions, my "feel goods." God would chase me where ever I went, He was calling me home. Then one day, after I left this guys house. I was driving and very matter of fact that I was done living this life. I wasn't emotional about it yet, I called him and broke up with him and told him that he's never hear from me again. Once again that was that. The sexual addiction was hard to get past but I did day by day, I fell a couple times, but got back up and asked for forgiveness and tried to not look back. Alcohol was a little harder, because it didn't involve anyone but myself. But then at one party I knew this was my last party, I stayed up all night and had a lot of fun. I drank a 6 pack of Miller Chill, and watched the sunrise on a barn roof with a beer in my hand and in my bare feet. I still drank at restaurants but never went to bars, and never got drunk again.
I just gave you a run through of my whole life up until 3 years ago. So think of it this way, like I did. I was a Jesus freak turned alcoholic, fornicator, blasphemer, selfish, lustful, vain, lair, user, thief, and very angry 22 year old. It had been almost 10 years since I had been with my Best Friend. We had a lot to catch up on. He was very gracious, and shared with me things about Himself like we had never lost time. I never knew what gifts of the Spirit I had, but I always was drawn toward anything and everything prophetic. God started showing me new things about myself too, and He liked to do this by showing me visions of how He sees me. Not like in a dream, totally different, I'm talking wide awake and He takes me to a different place in my mind. He showed me visions of my husband and I, whom I met only 5 months after being reawakened by Christ. He showed me that we will adopt, and have heart for children. All this happened because I completely changed, old friends didn't know me anymore, and God blessed me with new ones, seemingly daily. I went to church, I went on to be a leader in the youth group, I had a mentor, and joined a Bible study on top of professional counseling. See I had a lot of shame and failure to work out of my soul. I still have more that is coming to the surface and is being dealt with. My whole identity for years had been those awful sinful characteristics. But now I was supposed to believe that all those had been washed away? What!? I then dealt with guilt and making myself suffer, because I felt I needed to be punished. But the punishment never came, I was confused when great things kept happening in my life and my family. I was always waiting for the bomb to drop, for all I loved to go up in a mushroom cloud of "this is what you deserve." It never happened, instead God brought my family closer, gave me a husband, my dream wedding, travel, great jobs for Diego and I, a wonderful home, cars given to us! I didn't know what to think! Why wasn't God punishing me for all I put Him through, for all I put my family through, for all that I had done to His other children around me? But now I see through my own child what parental love is all about. I only know human love, and can't comprehend the things Father has done for me. My story is a prodigal one, but I think so many of us are. So don't be like me and want and wait for punishment. Instead enjoy the fattened calf and the celebration going on in heaven that the son (daughter) has come home.
"..we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found." Luke 15:32
When I was 12 I was washing the dishes one night, and I always listened to my cd's with headphones on while washing. I was listening to Phil Joels first cd, and Jesus touched my broken heart. You could say, you were only 12 and that was before Lady Gaga and the sexualzation of children, what could you be broken hearted about. I struggled my whole life, I mean whole life with sexual sin, from a very young age I felt like I was dirty and lived in shame. Puberty was a living hell, as I tried my hardest to combat this sexual force driving me at a young age. But that day washing the dishes and listening to music, I realized I couldn't combat this on my own and I wanted to feel clean. Like the dishes I was washing I needed to be washing clean with the blood of Christ. I knew this being raised in a God fearing home (thank You JESUS!) I went into the bathroom, the only place of solitude in a small house, and got on my face, and cried out in my heart for God to help me. I felt so lost and confused in my mind and needed to be free from the bondage of shame. Of course at 12 I didn't realize how much shame I was carrying. I confessed the sins I was aware of and got of the floor, sparkling clean.
After this God encounter, I was a changed little girl. I loved reading my Bible and studied it with my Bible dictionary for hours a day! Still listening to music the whole time, I was daily filled and couldn't get enough. I found a new love in writing, it didn't matter what style I was writing in either. Poetry was my main focus, not rhyming poems but beautiful ones about how glorious Christ is and how I can see His face and feel Him always. Jesus was truly my best friend.
The thing about Satan is that he is very subtle. If you leave the front door to your heart open just a crack he will transform into something that looks safe and slip in oh so stealthily. That is exactly what he did with me. At 15 I went to a Christian school, and suddenly I didn't have the hours to spend with my Best Friend. I didn't have my solitude to recharge in. All I was surrounded by was superficiality, and I didn't know how to fit into that. People were having sex, struggling with eating disorders, and vanity. I felt lost in this small school. Thankfully I had Bible class, which I aced without effort. I was still a good girl, breaking up with my first boyfriend because he wanted to kiss me and he swore. I was very strong in what i believed and didn't care what people thought of me. Which carried into the rest of my life, not in the best way.
Jump forward to 17, had a boyfriend that I would loose my virginity to. He was abusive in every way, I was controlled in every aspect of my life. I thought I was just being a good girl friend. My old fashion ideology failed me by not questioning him and not questioning myself. My Dad eventually rescued me from this relationship by making me choose "him or your family." It sounds really harsh looking back, but it needed to be done. My Dad knew that this was the only way to break the spell he had on me. That was that. But from then on I took sex and myself not very seriously. I forgot about my Best Friend, He couldn't make me feel the way these boys did. To be honest I can't see why I would stop talking to Him, but like I said I left the door of my sexuality open. I never wanted Him to control this area for me. This was mine! I had to control it, no one else. I became promiscuous and didn't care, I even got back with the boy that took my virginity just so I could sleep with him and never talk to him again, in hopes to hurt him like he hurt me. Instead it just made me feel more shameful. I buried everything, and my shovel to bury it with was alcohol. I loved the stuff, it made me happy when I thought it was impossible. I made me feel loved when I couldn't love myself. But what I loved the most was that it made me forget for a little bit what I had done, what had been done to me, and what kind of life I was going to have if I continued. I would tell myself that I wasn't an alcoholic, I was just having fun. But I realized that the only days I didn't drink were hang over days. This didn't stop me, I loved tequila, I kept a bottle in my closet(like symbolism much?) I would travel to parties with a bottle in my trunk, or a flask in my purse. I was underage this whole time. I had also issues with failure since a finance broke up with me and I quit the USAF. Then I met a guy who needed me, we were very codependent and toxic to each other. But he was a constant reminder that I was running away from my Best Friend. This guy didn't believe in God, that there was one, that He created the heavens and the Earth, that He was the one who first stole heart. This made me face head on if I would defend my God who's face I'd spit in for years or continue to send Him to voice mail. For over a year of being with this guy I did hit the ignore button on God. But since I had the Holy Spirit in me since I was 12 and baptism of the Holy Spirit since I was 14, He was constantly making me face my choices. I was like I was running down a black ally and the faster I would run the more He would put a screen in front of my eyes of Him on the cross for me. Not a guilt ridden, "This is what I did for you," but rather, "Come take up your cross and follow Me." I didn't want to, but then I started getting scared every time I would drive, I would think, "where will I go if I crash?" "if i do make it to heaven, what will God the Father say to me, and will Jesus have a disappointed look?" "will I get into heaven by the skin of my teeth?" "Do I deserve to even think that I could get into heaven?" I had these thoughts almost daily, but I would try to ignore them till my next shot of liquor or sexual escaped. These were my distractions, my "feel goods." God would chase me where ever I went, He was calling me home. Then one day, after I left this guys house. I was driving and very matter of fact that I was done living this life. I wasn't emotional about it yet, I called him and broke up with him and told him that he's never hear from me again. Once again that was that. The sexual addiction was hard to get past but I did day by day, I fell a couple times, but got back up and asked for forgiveness and tried to not look back. Alcohol was a little harder, because it didn't involve anyone but myself. But then at one party I knew this was my last party, I stayed up all night and had a lot of fun. I drank a 6 pack of Miller Chill, and watched the sunrise on a barn roof with a beer in my hand and in my bare feet. I still drank at restaurants but never went to bars, and never got drunk again.
I just gave you a run through of my whole life up until 3 years ago. So think of it this way, like I did. I was a Jesus freak turned alcoholic, fornicator, blasphemer, selfish, lustful, vain, lair, user, thief, and very angry 22 year old. It had been almost 10 years since I had been with my Best Friend. We had a lot to catch up on. He was very gracious, and shared with me things about Himself like we had never lost time. I never knew what gifts of the Spirit I had, but I always was drawn toward anything and everything prophetic. God started showing me new things about myself too, and He liked to do this by showing me visions of how He sees me. Not like in a dream, totally different, I'm talking wide awake and He takes me to a different place in my mind. He showed me visions of my husband and I, whom I met only 5 months after being reawakened by Christ. He showed me that we will adopt, and have heart for children. All this happened because I completely changed, old friends didn't know me anymore, and God blessed me with new ones, seemingly daily. I went to church, I went on to be a leader in the youth group, I had a mentor, and joined a Bible study on top of professional counseling. See I had a lot of shame and failure to work out of my soul. I still have more that is coming to the surface and is being dealt with. My whole identity for years had been those awful sinful characteristics. But now I was supposed to believe that all those had been washed away? What!? I then dealt with guilt and making myself suffer, because I felt I needed to be punished. But the punishment never came, I was confused when great things kept happening in my life and my family. I was always waiting for the bomb to drop, for all I loved to go up in a mushroom cloud of "this is what you deserve." It never happened, instead God brought my family closer, gave me a husband, my dream wedding, travel, great jobs for Diego and I, a wonderful home, cars given to us! I didn't know what to think! Why wasn't God punishing me for all I put Him through, for all I put my family through, for all that I had done to His other children around me? But now I see through my own child what parental love is all about. I only know human love, and can't comprehend the things Father has done for me. My story is a prodigal one, but I think so many of us are. So don't be like me and want and wait for punishment. Instead enjoy the fattened calf and the celebration going on in heaven that the son (daughter) has come home.
"..we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found." Luke 15:32
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Crazy little thing called CHANGE
Today I'm exactly 7 months pregnant, need I say more about changes. Not only is my body swelling in areas I never knew could do that, and my feet and back hurt all day, but my marriage is changing too.
I find myself falling in love with Diego even more than on our honeymoon. I know you always here people say this but maybe that's why you hear it so much. Once it happens to you it's the greatest phenomenon. I find myself waking up and making an effort to roll over, which is a challenge in itself these days, just to look at his face. The face that holds so many roles in my life now. Diego isn't just my husband, he's my playmate, my provider, my shoulder to cry on and knee to slap when he makes me laugh so hard I vomit (really happened by the way.) Now add to all those things, he is now my little girls daddy. This is something I have never felt before, this kind of love, not only for my daughter growing and kicking me, but the new love I have with Diego. It's really true what they say that "love is not romantic, although it can be, but it's a commitment." I think I love Diego even more because I know without a shadow of a doubt that he is committed to this marriage and now this FAMILY. I guess this love grows when there is true trust and security, not only in each other but in Jesus Christ. Diego has really been an example of Chirsts love for me and Lola. Yes, he has never sacrificed his life physically for me, but in his daily actions I feel that he does. He goes to work everyday, without complaint of the long hours he works, he is more patient with me than I deserve, he makes an effort to kiss me passionately, he touches me, and is happy to hold my hand. He paints a nursery for his daughter and does it thoroughly even though he loathes painting rooms. He always encourages me, in my life, my spiritual walk with the Lord, and in my new role as mother coming up. During the emotional days he is the only person who can make me genuinely laugh out loud. He is the only person, besides my parents, I feel doesn't judge me or have conditional love.
It's having a man like this that makes submission so much easier. Not that submission is ever easy, but I couldn't imagine living with a man that I don't trust with my life. That's what makes it easier, knowing that he has my best interest at heart. This is something else that has been changing, maybe not so outwardly obvious at my baby and my marriage directly. But God has really been showing me and speaking to me through many forums about submission and having a "gentle spirit." I think these are two of the hardest things for me to understand for one and second to try to live out daily. These two direct commands given to woman from the Bible are in complete contradiction to what everyone else is telling us. We are being told that woman have to be loud, not in our voices, but in our actions, clothes, our career choices and we have to be louder most of all over our "incompetent" husbands. I feel woman are being taught that it's our job to raise our husbands along with our children. This is not the case, the direction we give our children is completely different than how we consult with our husbands on issues or ideas. Sure woman have been given a great deal of wisdom and intuition, but is that to supersede our husbands or to bring balance and understanding into a family. God gave woman intuition and trust from the husbands so he, the man, can do what God has asked of him and know that his wife is helping him take care of business. He couldn't do all that if he had the same brain and thoughts that a woman has and visa versa. We could try but we won't be able to do it all and do it well. This is what makes us natural helpers, we were born to help, born to submit. If you can't submit to the man God has put over your house, that can physically love you and give you what you need, how can you submit to God Himself. I think this is where the real frustration comes in submission, because if you are married to a godly man than by submitting to him you are submitting to God. The reason sometimes its hard for me, is because I know Diego's right and that he's speaking truth, but I feel the rebellion well up in me. Now why would I feel that kind of strong emotion if I was just declining to submit to a human? Why would I be so torn, or just so angry I don't care what I look or sound like? Could it be that I'm not rebelling against Diego and his plan for our family? Or is it that God is the real voice speaking and I just don't want to hear it right now? "lalalalalala" Submission isn't a Biblical word for door mat, I know woman who aren't submissive and are door mats. Submission is another God given role to act out, and the more you listen to and understand your hubby odds are the more you'll be able to listen to and understand your Daddy. That's why He gave us relationships to reflect His love for us to each other.
I find myself falling in love with Diego even more than on our honeymoon. I know you always here people say this but maybe that's why you hear it so much. Once it happens to you it's the greatest phenomenon. I find myself waking up and making an effort to roll over, which is a challenge in itself these days, just to look at his face. The face that holds so many roles in my life now. Diego isn't just my husband, he's my playmate, my provider, my shoulder to cry on and knee to slap when he makes me laugh so hard I vomit (really happened by the way.) Now add to all those things, he is now my little girls daddy. This is something I have never felt before, this kind of love, not only for my daughter growing and kicking me, but the new love I have with Diego. It's really true what they say that "love is not romantic, although it can be, but it's a commitment." I think I love Diego even more because I know without a shadow of a doubt that he is committed to this marriage and now this FAMILY. I guess this love grows when there is true trust and security, not only in each other but in Jesus Christ. Diego has really been an example of Chirsts love for me and Lola. Yes, he has never sacrificed his life physically for me, but in his daily actions I feel that he does. He goes to work everyday, without complaint of the long hours he works, he is more patient with me than I deserve, he makes an effort to kiss me passionately, he touches me, and is happy to hold my hand. He paints a nursery for his daughter and does it thoroughly even though he loathes painting rooms. He always encourages me, in my life, my spiritual walk with the Lord, and in my new role as mother coming up. During the emotional days he is the only person who can make me genuinely laugh out loud. He is the only person, besides my parents, I feel doesn't judge me or have conditional love.
It's having a man like this that makes submission so much easier. Not that submission is ever easy, but I couldn't imagine living with a man that I don't trust with my life. That's what makes it easier, knowing that he has my best interest at heart. This is something else that has been changing, maybe not so outwardly obvious at my baby and my marriage directly. But God has really been showing me and speaking to me through many forums about submission and having a "gentle spirit." I think these are two of the hardest things for me to understand for one and second to try to live out daily. These two direct commands given to woman from the Bible are in complete contradiction to what everyone else is telling us. We are being told that woman have to be loud, not in our voices, but in our actions, clothes, our career choices and we have to be louder most of all over our "incompetent" husbands. I feel woman are being taught that it's our job to raise our husbands along with our children. This is not the case, the direction we give our children is completely different than how we consult with our husbands on issues or ideas. Sure woman have been given a great deal of wisdom and intuition, but is that to supersede our husbands or to bring balance and understanding into a family. God gave woman intuition and trust from the husbands so he, the man, can do what God has asked of him and know that his wife is helping him take care of business. He couldn't do all that if he had the same brain and thoughts that a woman has and visa versa. We could try but we won't be able to do it all and do it well. This is what makes us natural helpers, we were born to help, born to submit. If you can't submit to the man God has put over your house, that can physically love you and give you what you need, how can you submit to God Himself. I think this is where the real frustration comes in submission, because if you are married to a godly man than by submitting to him you are submitting to God. The reason sometimes its hard for me, is because I know Diego's right and that he's speaking truth, but I feel the rebellion well up in me. Now why would I feel that kind of strong emotion if I was just declining to submit to a human? Why would I be so torn, or just so angry I don't care what I look or sound like? Could it be that I'm not rebelling against Diego and his plan for our family? Or is it that God is the real voice speaking and I just don't want to hear it right now? "lalalalalala" Submission isn't a Biblical word for door mat, I know woman who aren't submissive and are door mats. Submission is another God given role to act out, and the more you listen to and understand your hubby odds are the more you'll be able to listen to and understand your Daddy. That's why He gave us relationships to reflect His love for us to each other.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Crazy little thing called CONFUSION
I feel misunderstood, misheard and hurt. I feel like I'm alone, alone and pregnant is a very scary feeling. I want to be understood. Why is it my mom is the only that can validate my feelings, and not make me feel like I'm crazy or over-reacting? Why can't people see me for who I am? That I'm really just a woman that wants to feel safe, especially in my own home. I'm a woman who needs to voice my feelings without them being judged and srutinized. I feel alone and sad. I feel lost and like no one can help me. I feel like I'm being asked to cut off my right arm and be happy about it. I feel like he doesn't understand what I'm really going through and how deep other peoples words cut me. I'm a compassionate person, who loves love, and people take advantage of this know they can say what they want with no reprucusions. I don't bother standing up for myself because I feel I have no voice when they are around, my breath is just a light wind coming and going, moving without making noise or making a difference in how you view me. I'm prone to running, but I can't anymore, I've grown up to much to use that as an excuse. Oh how I wish I could though. I'm confused about why everyone else isn't confused. Why can a husband and wife, love so much but not hear the same conversations? Why can't we both hear the same explanations? Why is this thing called life so hard, that crying with all your strength is the easiest thing sometimes? How can I be so lost, confused, feel so alone, when with me all the time is my daughter? I pray for her and that she doesn't have this struggle like I do. I pray that she will always be confident and not let others words make her second guess herself. I pray that she will listen with a grain of salt to those her spirit questions, and not question her spirit. I pray that she will have clarity of her mind, and understand the important things in life.
God this is my prayer for me, not as a wife, not as a mother, but me as Your daughter.
Help! I need Your help right now! I feel so lost in my own mind, I feel like I'm alone. I know it's Satan coming down on me because we are starting a family. But I feel weak, please be my strength... I have nothing left to fight with. I feel like my weapons were stollen and I have to make new ones from scratch. I need Your help! I need Your rod and staff to comfort me right now. I'm so weak, emotionally, physicaly, and spiritually I'm drained. I feel like I don't have a lot to give You right now. I want to give you so much but I feel like it's not worth anything anymore. I feel alone. I feel like Diego wants to understand, but I don't know how to explain my deep hurt and fears right now. I don't want to leave him out of this, help me to communicate and help his ears to listen with his spirit. I want to feel free again, I want to be apart of a church family that loves me for who I am not what they think they can get out of me. I want to feel like I belong, and right now I feel like the only place I belong is home. JESUS! Help me! I feel like a little girl lost in the woods, waiting for the wolf to jump out from behind the trees and drag me down. JESUS! Yours is the only name that brings me peace. Give me the strength to be the woman You created me to be. The one You want me to become. Give me dove eyes that see only You and Your will, not mine and not others will be done, but Yours oh Lord is the will I crave. Your desires are the ones I thirst for more than riches and fine linen. You are the one I NEED at this flat line moment. JESUS! Help me! Give me wisdom is making descions, and in honoring Diegos when he makes them for us. Please dry these tears that are making cracks in my skin, dry the tears in my soul that are making my spirit crack and bleed. Seal up my heart, mind, body, soul and spirit. Seal them with a righteous kiss from Your lips.
AMEN.
God this is my prayer for me, not as a wife, not as a mother, but me as Your daughter.
Help! I need Your help right now! I feel so lost in my own mind, I feel like I'm alone. I know it's Satan coming down on me because we are starting a family. But I feel weak, please be my strength... I have nothing left to fight with. I feel like my weapons were stollen and I have to make new ones from scratch. I need Your help! I need Your rod and staff to comfort me right now. I'm so weak, emotionally, physicaly, and spiritually I'm drained. I feel like I don't have a lot to give You right now. I want to give you so much but I feel like it's not worth anything anymore. I feel alone. I feel like Diego wants to understand, but I don't know how to explain my deep hurt and fears right now. I don't want to leave him out of this, help me to communicate and help his ears to listen with his spirit. I want to feel free again, I want to be apart of a church family that loves me for who I am not what they think they can get out of me. I want to feel like I belong, and right now I feel like the only place I belong is home. JESUS! Help me! I feel like a little girl lost in the woods, waiting for the wolf to jump out from behind the trees and drag me down. JESUS! Yours is the only name that brings me peace. Give me the strength to be the woman You created me to be. The one You want me to become. Give me dove eyes that see only You and Your will, not mine and not others will be done, but Yours oh Lord is the will I crave. Your desires are the ones I thirst for more than riches and fine linen. You are the one I NEED at this flat line moment. JESUS! Help me! Give me wisdom is making descions, and in honoring Diegos when he makes them for us. Please dry these tears that are making cracks in my skin, dry the tears in my soul that are making my spirit crack and bleed. Seal up my heart, mind, body, soul and spirit. Seal them with a righteous kiss from Your lips.
AMEN.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Crazy little thing called PREGNANCY
At this very moment I'm 26 weeks along in my pregnancy, with my little girl named Lola.
I've always wanted to be pregnant, even when I was little I would stuff my shirt with pillows, blankets, and bath towels and pretend I was having a baby. I can only imagine what I looked like, an 8 year old with a 8 month pregnant belly!
My husband and I have always sat and dreamed with each other about babies and a growing family. I found out I was expecting at 5 am one morning in October, my husband had just taken his brother to the airport and I couldn't wait for him to come home. I took the test and watched my pee move across the stick... then my heart sinks to my stomach when I only see one pink line. I instantly start praying, because everytime I've taken a test and it's negative it takes a couple weeks to get out of the "I don't have a little person growing inside me" phase. I finish peeing and I'm just getting ready to pull up my undies when I glance at the stick again. That's the moment the rest of my life changed. I looked at that wonderful white stick and to my shock it now has 2 wonderful pink lines!!! I instantly start rubbing my eyes, like they do in cartoons like I'm seeing things or I'm just wishing 2 lines so bad that thats what I think I'm seeing. So like everyone who takes one test and it's positive, I rip open the second one with gusto and focus like never before on mustering up some more urine for this wonderful thing us women pee on. I stair at the shower curtain intensely, and thankfully since I have little to no bladder control, in only moments I've got the urge. I take the second test and pee double the time they say to, you know just to make sure, and sit as on the edge of a toilet seat as you can and wait. Sure enough there is the first pink line then.... wait for it...wait for it....bam! There it is! The best thing I've ever saw in my entire life a second pink line, letting me know that for the past 6 weeks I've had a little person growing in my womb and didn't even relize how much she was already growing in my heart. I get myself together, in complete shock that my dream is coming true. I look at myself in the mirror and realize, "I'm a mother." I will never be the same again, I have another life that I'm responsible for, one that my husband and I along with God created. I stop right there and start praying and thanking God for all that this blessing means for Diego(my husband) and I. Then it hits me I've never practiced how or what I would tell Diego when I found out. I start pacing in my apartment, laughing, crying, and trying to think about how to tell him. Then I realize that we have a big cardboard box cut up and I can write a message on the back and tell him that way. I wait the longest hour of my life it feels like for him to return home from the airport. I'm sitting up in bed with only the night stand light on and have the sign across my lap. He walks in and sees the sign and starts crying right away when he reads "Welcome Home Daddy" We prayed together and laughed and cried some more. That was the best morning of my whole life!
So thats how this crazy journey called pregnancy started. Beautiful right? Well the next 6 months are full of running to the bathroom, hormonal rages, sweating, nose running, sweat pimples, and oh did I mention the vomitting and exhustation?
When your in your first trimester, which means the first 3 months of your pregnancy, you think your the one who is the newborn baby. All you want to do and for the most part can do is sleep, eat, and poop(that is if your not constipated like I was.) And when I say eat, I mean eat! I once sat down to a meal at LongHorn Steak House and polished off 2 servings of salad, 1/2 rack of ribs, 6 oz steak and a loaded baked potatoe the size of my face! The really crazy thing is, after eating ALL that food, I was okay, not full, not ready to explode, but just okay! My husband was looking at me like I was one of the brats on Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, eating all the candy and sweets with their bare hands and just shoving their faces into it. To be honest though thats exacting how I felt, but totally shameless. I still to this day go through a gallon of milk all on my own in about 4 days. P.S. never a big milk drinker before Lola came along, but my husband LOVES milk! So a lot of us already know yeah your gonna eat like a total pig and care less, but no one told me that I could actually loose my appitite. It started in my 5th month, all the sudden eating was the hardest thing for me to do. I sometimes have to just bare down and eat because my little girl's hungry, but if it was just me in this body I wouldn't be eating much at all. Oh and not to mention that I've got to try to get around 60g of protien a day and add an extra 300 calories to my diet! This may sound like fun for some of you, but for me, it's my Everest. I eat a lot of Greek yogurt and cheese, along with my beloved milk. Meat is another thing that I either love or hate, and that is all depending on the day. One day I could throw up just at the thought of a steak and the next it's all I can think about. But this I hear is normal.
So lets get into all the stuff people say to a new pregnant mom. For starters get used to the fact that everyone has an option about your babies sex, the size of your belly, and the names you pick. Some people keep everything a secret till the baby pops out, but then your judged for being uptight and "that couple." Diego and I are very open people, no secrets, and open to questions. So we told people the baby names we had picked out and what we thought our baby would be.
I worked at the time and people would either love the names we pick out or hate them, and wouldn't shy away from telling me "really? don't name your baby that." REALLY!?! Thats what your going to tell a hormonal pregnant woman, to her FACE! Please if your one of those people who think everyone wants to know your option, even if they didn't ask for it, SHUT UP! This isn't your moment and guess what it's not your baby! As you can tell I still have some built up resentment over this topic since the name that this person hated so much, is the name of our daughter.
The next is a real kicker! One day at work, a fellow co-worker comes up to me and says "your going to have a girl. Because you're really wide right here." As she motioning to my dwinlding waistline. It was all I could do not to punch her right in the face. Mind you I'm only 4 months at the time and still wearing my regular jeans at work, so the wideness she was refuring to was really just ME! I said as calmly as I could, "thats not the baby, I've always been that wide." I will say I added some smuggness just to get my pissed off point across. Another great time was when my mother in-law told me the SAME THING only a week later!!! I gave her the same response.
On a postive note, you can never tell a pregnant woman enough "wow you don't even look pregnant from behind!" It's like a chorus of angels singing in my ears when people tell me this.
Thats all for now, I have to go pee.....
I've always wanted to be pregnant, even when I was little I would stuff my shirt with pillows, blankets, and bath towels and pretend I was having a baby. I can only imagine what I looked like, an 8 year old with a 8 month pregnant belly!
My husband and I have always sat and dreamed with each other about babies and a growing family. I found out I was expecting at 5 am one morning in October, my husband had just taken his brother to the airport and I couldn't wait for him to come home. I took the test and watched my pee move across the stick... then my heart sinks to my stomach when I only see one pink line. I instantly start praying, because everytime I've taken a test and it's negative it takes a couple weeks to get out of the "I don't have a little person growing inside me" phase. I finish peeing and I'm just getting ready to pull up my undies when I glance at the stick again. That's the moment the rest of my life changed. I looked at that wonderful white stick and to my shock it now has 2 wonderful pink lines!!! I instantly start rubbing my eyes, like they do in cartoons like I'm seeing things or I'm just wishing 2 lines so bad that thats what I think I'm seeing. So like everyone who takes one test and it's positive, I rip open the second one with gusto and focus like never before on mustering up some more urine for this wonderful thing us women pee on. I stair at the shower curtain intensely, and thankfully since I have little to no bladder control, in only moments I've got the urge. I take the second test and pee double the time they say to, you know just to make sure, and sit as on the edge of a toilet seat as you can and wait. Sure enough there is the first pink line then.... wait for it...wait for it....bam! There it is! The best thing I've ever saw in my entire life a second pink line, letting me know that for the past 6 weeks I've had a little person growing in my womb and didn't even relize how much she was already growing in my heart. I get myself together, in complete shock that my dream is coming true. I look at myself in the mirror and realize, "I'm a mother." I will never be the same again, I have another life that I'm responsible for, one that my husband and I along with God created. I stop right there and start praying and thanking God for all that this blessing means for Diego(my husband) and I. Then it hits me I've never practiced how or what I would tell Diego when I found out. I start pacing in my apartment, laughing, crying, and trying to think about how to tell him. Then I realize that we have a big cardboard box cut up and I can write a message on the back and tell him that way. I wait the longest hour of my life it feels like for him to return home from the airport. I'm sitting up in bed with only the night stand light on and have the sign across my lap. He walks in and sees the sign and starts crying right away when he reads "Welcome Home Daddy" We prayed together and laughed and cried some more. That was the best morning of my whole life!
So thats how this crazy journey called pregnancy started. Beautiful right? Well the next 6 months are full of running to the bathroom, hormonal rages, sweating, nose running, sweat pimples, and oh did I mention the vomitting and exhustation?
When your in your first trimester, which means the first 3 months of your pregnancy, you think your the one who is the newborn baby. All you want to do and for the most part can do is sleep, eat, and poop(that is if your not constipated like I was.) And when I say eat, I mean eat! I once sat down to a meal at LongHorn Steak House and polished off 2 servings of salad, 1/2 rack of ribs, 6 oz steak and a loaded baked potatoe the size of my face! The really crazy thing is, after eating ALL that food, I was okay, not full, not ready to explode, but just okay! My husband was looking at me like I was one of the brats on Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, eating all the candy and sweets with their bare hands and just shoving their faces into it. To be honest though thats exacting how I felt, but totally shameless. I still to this day go through a gallon of milk all on my own in about 4 days. P.S. never a big milk drinker before Lola came along, but my husband LOVES milk! So a lot of us already know yeah your gonna eat like a total pig and care less, but no one told me that I could actually loose my appitite. It started in my 5th month, all the sudden eating was the hardest thing for me to do. I sometimes have to just bare down and eat because my little girl's hungry, but if it was just me in this body I wouldn't be eating much at all. Oh and not to mention that I've got to try to get around 60g of protien a day and add an extra 300 calories to my diet! This may sound like fun for some of you, but for me, it's my Everest. I eat a lot of Greek yogurt and cheese, along with my beloved milk. Meat is another thing that I either love or hate, and that is all depending on the day. One day I could throw up just at the thought of a steak and the next it's all I can think about. But this I hear is normal.
So lets get into all the stuff people say to a new pregnant mom. For starters get used to the fact that everyone has an option about your babies sex, the size of your belly, and the names you pick. Some people keep everything a secret till the baby pops out, but then your judged for being uptight and "that couple." Diego and I are very open people, no secrets, and open to questions. So we told people the baby names we had picked out and what we thought our baby would be.
I worked at the time and people would either love the names we pick out or hate them, and wouldn't shy away from telling me "really? don't name your baby that." REALLY!?! Thats what your going to tell a hormonal pregnant woman, to her FACE! Please if your one of those people who think everyone wants to know your option, even if they didn't ask for it, SHUT UP! This isn't your moment and guess what it's not your baby! As you can tell I still have some built up resentment over this topic since the name that this person hated so much, is the name of our daughter.
The next is a real kicker! One day at work, a fellow co-worker comes up to me and says "your going to have a girl. Because you're really wide right here." As she motioning to my dwinlding waistline. It was all I could do not to punch her right in the face. Mind you I'm only 4 months at the time and still wearing my regular jeans at work, so the wideness she was refuring to was really just ME! I said as calmly as I could, "thats not the baby, I've always been that wide." I will say I added some smuggness just to get my pissed off point across. Another great time was when my mother in-law told me the SAME THING only a week later!!! I gave her the same response.
On a postive note, you can never tell a pregnant woman enough "wow you don't even look pregnant from behind!" It's like a chorus of angels singing in my ears when people tell me this.
Thats all for now, I have to go pee.....
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