Plea for Help

Yesterday, a mom was watching Kolby run ahead of us and commented on how cute he is to watch run. His little legs don't move very fast but his arms pump and pump and pump. It's like all the action is in his arms. Then she said, something about how he doesn't move fast but he tries hard.

And then she said "But, I guess he does have a little junk in his trunk."

I was a little taken aback and the only thing I could think of to say was yeah. Later, I decided, I should have said "I had that same thought watching you walk!" That was the unkind thing to say. I'm glad I didn't say it.

He was wearing hand me down pants from Sage and I'll admit, they were tight in the butt. All of his pants are a little tight and a little hard to button. If he is wearing a cloth diaper, forget buttoning!

That brings me to my plea for help. I need pants that actually fit Kolby. I feel bad telling my 2 year old to suck it in so I can button his pants! But, I'm cheap. And don't suggest Lands End because they have elastic waist, I have a pair of shorts from there for him and they were um, hard to pull up and down. Poor Kolby. I feel so badly sharing this information with the internet but I need help! I've looked at MiniBoden but I don't know if I can bring myself to spend $34 on one pair of pants for him.

Who sells a husky 3T?

I Might Miss Something

With the impending birth of this baby, I feel like if I let myself take too much time away from our normal activities that I might miss something.

See, I don't have close friends that I talk to everyday here. (I'm not complaining, just stating a fact.) So, we have things we go to most days of the week and I see the same moms whom I relate to and can talk to and have a little bit of adult time with. And, if I miss those things, I'll miss those connections, those few interactions with people over the age of four.

And, I know that it's not good for me to miss those connections, those snippets of conversations. I feel like they are on their way to making good friends.

Also, after Kolby's birth, I had a really hard time. I got depressed. I probably should have gone to see the doctor but that seemed like too much work. I had dropped our of my MOPS group because of the birth of Kolby and I hadn't made a friend anyway, so it didn't seem to matter. Our internet went down so I couldn't connect to anyone in the internet world either. Not that anyone actually read or reads this blog but it at least feels like something!

I don't want to slip into that depression again with this baby. I want to truly enjoy his infancy and if that means bringing him with us to our differing activities, that is what we'll do.

I have learned that I can be sustained on these snippets of adult conversation. I need those. I have also seen in the last week that I need to wake up before my kids and read my Bible and do my study. It makes all of our days go better.

I have had some not so easy days and they weren't all due to the attitudes of my children. More mine. I have been impatient with them and prone to anger. I don't like it and neither do they. It makes us all grouchy. Which is not surprising.

Last night at our Midlink Bible study, Isaiah 61:3 was read. "...and to provide ff or those who grieve in Zion- to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor."

I want to wear a garment of praise in my everyday life. Starting today.

What garment are you wearing?

**See, I don't want to miss this stuff. I need this stuff!

37 Weeks and Counting

The only exciting thing that I have going on in my life is this baby and how soon it will come out. I know, not terribly exciting, unless you're me or my mom. It just freaks Drew out to think how close we are to having a newborn in our house.

So, I am at the same place that I was last week. Nothing has changed. He said possibly you will have this baby in the next 7 - 10 days. I think he might be lying.

Sunday and Monday I felt really good, I wanted our house clean and picked up and I was doing laundry like a madwoman. It made me think that nothing had changed. I just felt so good. The baby isn't resting on my bladder anymore so I can go more than 20 minutes before I have to find a facility.

And all this makes me think back to when I was a mere 10 weeks and they told me after an ultrasound that I was really 11 weeks. It makes me think that they were off. And that would put me at 36 weeks. And then this would all make more sense.

But, in the end, does it really matter? Not really, but right now it matters because the more weeks along I am, the closer I am to feeling comfortable again. Maybe I'll be able to make it a whole day without saying "My belly hurts." or "I need to lay down because my belly hurts."

The other really exciting thing in my life right now? The weather. It has been drastically cooler here this week and it has been so lovely. It was 50 degrees this morning. I wore a sweater and jeans. And took the sweater off after lunch but still. Sage talks about how freezing it is and how perfect it is for us to make a fire and roast marshmallows in our fireplace. Guess it's time to call that chimney sweep!

Picture Day

You might not want to look at these if you are eating or easily disgusted. Or, enlarge them and get a better view!

The Waiting: He's showing us his bracelet.


The Before: This is better looking than at home when I was trying to decide if he needed stitches. I got a good piece of advice from a nurse at our pediatricians office. "If the sides of the wound aren't touching, it needs stitches."


The During: It kind of grossed me out seeing her pull his flesh together with a needle.


The During:


The After: He kept moving so it was hard to get a good after shot. It is all greasy because of the neosporin.


The Proof: He wrote TOY!


Maybe he was able to start writing his name and toy because of this bonk to his head!

The Amazing Sage

Yesterday, from the dining room, I hear, "I wrote my name, S A G E!" We told him to show it to us. He proudly walked over with the sheet of paper and sure enough, he had written his name! And, it was in the right order going from right to left.

Drew and I were very surprised and kind of laughed and told him what a good job it was.

This morning, he was playing with the magna doodle and said "Look, I wrote TOY!" And sure enough he had. (I took a picture but I still can't find the card reader.) He learned how to spell toy from Toy Story when Woody tells Buzz "You are a toy, T O Y, toy!" Then he proceeded to write zoo but he got the z backwards.

We have been doing a little bit of "homeschool". I put it in quotations because we aren't consistent with it and I don't have a real curriculum just some Hooked on Phonics for his lower case letter recognition and handwriting (which I haven't really started) stuff and he colors. Maybe I am holding him back by not doing it everyday with him. Just add it to the list of things that should be getting done in a day!

*This post is mainly for my mom. I know many 4 year olds are much more advanced! But we're proud of our Sage!

My Crazy Body

36 weeks plus a few days.

2 - 3 cm. dilated.

100% effaced.

Head still low.

The nurse had trouble getting his heartbeat because he was moving around so much. She called him a varmint. I thought that was a little strange.

The doctor said to not dilly dally when I go in to labor. Thanks for the tip! He also said he wants to see me make it to 37 weeks but if I make it to 38, which he highly doubts, he will induce me if I want.

With the boys, I guess I was technically induced, they broke my water both times. With Kolby, I was 37 weeks 5 days and they were guessing 5 or 6 cm dilated but his head was so low it was hard to tell. She didn't want to send me home like that, so they broke my water and 56 minutes later out came Kolby without a push!

Sage was born at 38 weeks and some days. I was 5 cm dilated with him also. I had gone in the night before with regular irregular contractions meaning they were coming but not every 5 or 10 minutes like they told me to look for. Once we got to the hospital with all our gear, we spent the night since the contractions completely stopped and they sent us home about 8 that morning. That night about 10 we checked back in, they broke my water and 4 hours later he was born. But I pushed for an hour and 15 minutes.

In my mind, when I am thinking clearly, I want to keep this baby inside until 38 weeks. Let him put on some weight and make sure his lungs are ready to be out here.

When I am not thinking clearly, I think come on! I watch myself waddle towards the glass doors to pick up the boys at Mothers Day Out and think, how am I gonna hold this baby in?! And when I get a painful braxton hic, I automatically look at the time and wait to see if I get another. (Are they called braxton hics anymore, I mean, they can be quite painful, aren't they just contractions? Then I could tell people I was in labor for weeks instead of just an hour or so!)

And then sane Kristy comes back in and thinks about how I would really like a November baby (no logical reason) and how I really want to make it to 38 weeks.

Part of me really wonders how long I would go if I just let my body do its thing.

And part of me thinks that would be crazy and I would end up delivering at home. By myself. And I don't really want that. If I planned a home birth, that would be different.

My doctor did mention that he would prefer to have me in a controlled setting and induce me. Part of me agrees.

The past two nights, I have slept really well. I have actually woken up and forgotten that I was pregnant. I was so comfortable and my belly wasn't hurting me, no head was pressing against my bladder and then I get a swift kick to my belly and remember that I am in fact pregnant and it is in fact going to be painful to roll over and get myself out of bed.

I can't wait to meet this little guy. We have a couple names we agree on and we have agreed to see him and decide.

Don't tell Sage or Kolby but I ordered matching pajamas for all three boys today (a traditional Christmas eve present) and am so excited to take their picture! What are the odds that Sage won't have an accident and that Kolby and new baby's diaper won't leak that night?!

Another First

First for those curious, I do feel a lot better. I didn't make it to church on Sunday but by Sunday night I could complete my mama tasks. And today I feel as close to 100% as possible for a nine month pregnant lady.
***************************************************************************************

I lazily stayed in bed this morning listening to the boys play in their room wishing that I hadn't stayed up until midnight last night putting sheets on the queen bed in the baby/guest room. (Which is almost done! Crib needs set up and I need to get out our tub of baby clothes and organize but we are so close! My mom could arrive and we would be proud to have her sleep there!)

Anyway, as I was rounding the corner to come down the stairs I heard a little crash and a wail. Sage was ahead of me so I started saying "Sage, what happened?" I only got a wail in response. He was standing as I ran down the stairs. I saw that he had dropped his "tickets" (clothing price tags) and beside it looked like some sort of red toy that I didn't realize he had. I sat on the bottom step and noticed blood all over his hands. I saw blood dripping all over our carpeted landing. I couldn't figure out where it was coming from.

I turned him around saw a lot of blood in his pretty blonde curls. I prayed out loud. "Lord, help me know what to do." I took his pajama shirt off and pressed it against his head. I called my mom. She told me to get it cleaned out and see if it needed stitches.

The blood wasn't dripping anymore, so I took him upstairs to our bathroom to try to clean it out with peroxide. I just kept dumping it on his head. He had stopped crying and I could tell that the gash was pretty open but couldn't see how deep since it was always bloody.

This was about 7:50am. I waited until 8 and called the pediatrician and hoped that I could bring him in there to get stitches rather than the ER. No go. But she did tell me that if the two sides of the wound were not touching, stitches were probably required.

Sage was totally calm and back to normal by this point. I figured we should all eat breakfast before we go wait in the ER for who knows how long. So we ate, I packed a bag of suckers and fruit snacks for bribes and a bag of toys for the waiting.

When I came downstairs with Sage to get breakfast, Kolby had helped himself to 3 yogurts and was getting a spoon. The little stinker. I didn't even scold him, just helped him open one to eat! He was just taking care of himself!

We went to the ER, got checked in, taken right back to the ER room and within 5 minutes the nurse practitioner had come in and looked at his head. She confirmed he needed stitches, 2 or 3. I asked if we had to shave any of his hair. I was so relieved when she answered no!

She came back and gave them each a sucker and Sage was working on the magna doodle so she had him look down and do that while she numbed the area and then stitched it and cleaned it.

He did so great. No tears at all. I was so impressed. I had pictured this huge ordeal trying to hold him down while he screamed and screamed.

We had heard a song on the cd that he requested on the way to the ER that said essentially God will give you the power to be brave. I told Sage about it and prayed for him to be brave. God definitely answered yes to that prayer!

I have pictures to show you the gruesome details. But, I can't find my card reader and someone else was the last to use it so... those will have to wait.

Also, remember how upset I got when he got his first bloody nose at Chick-fil-A? I didn't feel that way at all this time. I was calm and collected. I figured out what to do and did it. I think it helped that Sage couldn't see all the blood and wasn't freaking out over it.

And hydrogen peroxide totally takes blood out of carpet. I might be trying it for his Buzz Lightyear pajamas too!

A random note, the nurse practitioner asked if I was pregnant! She couldn't tell. I was sitting down but really, kind of strange. I guess it is good she isn't an OB nurse!

I'm off to nap, I'll try to post the pictures tomorrow.

I'm Stupid

Today, while we were at a birthday party for one of Sage's friends, Sage got another bloody nose. This time, thanks to his brother. Personally, I think Kolby was paying him back for all those tackles that Sage loves to give. Realistically, a two year old was holding a putt-putt club and his 4 year old brother was standing within striking distance. It was a complete accident.

What I did though, was just completely neurotic. I saw the blood, Drew was right there to help Sage, I was a couple steps behind. I took off running to the clubhouse to get paper towels. In my mind, no one out on the putt-putt golf course would have something that we could use to absorb all the blood. I didn't have my purse or diaper bag, they were in the car, so why would another mother be prepared?! As soon as I took off running, my 9 month pregnant body screamed that it was a stupid, stupid decision. Know what I did? Kept running. Yep. I don't know what I looked like, but in my mind, I was running really fast. Realistically, I probably looked hilarious, but let's not dwell on that.

Another mother did have a diaper bag or something, because she provided a wet wipe that worked perfectly. And my paper towels were rendered useless.

So, the useless paper towels that I so desperately needed caused much pain in my body. I can seriously hardly walk.

All for the love of my child. And not getting blood on his precious, green, soccer t-shirt he insisted on wearing. (I hope you catch the sarcasm, I don't love the soccer t-shirt)

And that is why the rest of the day I have moaned and groaned as I've wobbled and waddled my way from the bathroom and back to the couch.

Doctor Appointment

I had my 35 week check up today. And an ultra sound. The tech said it was a bio physical profile. She checked amniotic levels and the baby's movements, listened to his heartbeat and something else. She was surprised at how low he is, she could barely get to his head to check on something else. I could have told her he was low because of the nightly hiccups I get to experience. Not quite as strong as Kolby's but hiccups none the less. She guesstimated his weight at 5 lbs. 10 oz. A little guy!

The doctor did my group B strep test so checked things out. I had also told him that I had quite a few braxton hics on Saturday. When I say quite a few, I mean, they weren't stopping unless I was laying down.

I had been at a woman's retreat until 2:30 and was so uncomfortable during the afternoon sessions. I just couldn't find a way to sit that was comfortable with my belly and it was like one long braxton hic. I got in my car to come home and had had it. I was so tired and so needing to lay down.

I took a wrong exit on the way home. Traffic backed way up. Enter contractions that are harder that I was actually breathing through a little, not bad but very uncomfortable and I may have started crying.

I finally got home and waddled into the house and burst into tears. Drew didn't know what to do with me. I laid around the rest of the day. I was the useless parent in the house.

Sunday, I felt much better but still had a few contractions.

Anyway, the point of this is to say, I feel much better today. I know to go to the 4th floor of the hospital.

Oh and also, I'm a few centimeters dilated already. The doctor made a comment that as long as I stay just a few centimeters, we'll let him stay in as long as possible. Pray that I can be strong and insist that it is okay for me to walk around 4 - 5 centimeters dilated and that this baby will get bigger, stronger and develop everything in time.

With Kolby I was at 5 centimeters at 36 weeks. I know how my body works but I do get anxious at the end. Anxious for details that I have no control over.

I just keep laying it all at the Lord's feet. That's what he's there for anyway!

Reason #485 Moving Stinks

Moving stinks for a number of different reasons. My reason for today is doctors. I hate finding new doctors and then waiting to actually see them.

I made appointments for the boys in June or July for November for regular pediatric appointments. Sage's will be his 4 year old check up and Kolby will be because Sage is going and why not? I can handle that, they aren't really needed for any specific reason.

And, I'm not going to mention that the new OB I've been seeing just informed me that he is moving his office to about an hour away. Oh, and that the pediatrician that the kids are seeing are dropping our insurance come April. I'm trying to pretend that isn't happening.

But, Kolby needs an orthopedic doctor for his feet. His last check up was February 2008. The first available appointment is February 2, 2009. That is a year in between check ups. And there is the small detail of the shoes that he wears to bed every night. He is starting to outgrow them. And at the appointment, I need all his medical records. Which I knew. But my doctor in Connecticut said the new doctor will be able to get them, I didn't need to worry about bringing them with me. WRONG! I have to have them all at the first appointment.

Lesson learned: Do not leave a state without all your medical records to take with you. And, once you have gotten those records, make copies and keep them so that if or when you move again, you will have the first set to take with you to a new doctor. And don't forget to get your current records!

I feel like I have failed Kolby. His feet give me no reason to think that I need to take him to the doctor, but I would like that confirmation from a doctor.

I dragged my feet in scheduling his appointment and finding a doctor because there is one Ponseti certified doctor in Houston. And he of course, is not in our insurance plan. So, I haven't wanted to make an appointment with someone that I don't know what they are going to say to me.

Part of me thinks that the doctor will say, "His feet look great, let's discontinue the bar" and then Kolby will relapse. I am pretty adamant that he wear his bar until he is at least 4. He expects to wear his shoes and bar and sleeps better with them anyway.

It will take a lot of faith on my part to discontinue use of the bar. When he wears the bar, I am doing something. When it is over, it's in God's hands. Actually, it has always been in God's hands. He's got the whole world in his hands, including Kolby's feet.

Breathe in, breathe out. I already feel better. I might have failed in getting a doctor appointment sooner, but God has it all in his hands. I've done my part, the appointment is made. I'll fax the release forms to Connecticut today and then I'll wait on the Lord.

Writing everything out makes me come to my senses. And after re-reading this, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense to anyone but me and maybe my mom.

A New Day

I'm sitting at the computer listening to my children sing loudly at the top of their lungs and Sage comes down to share this: "Mom, we are upstairs, praising the Lord!"

But that wasn't what I wanted to write about today. I just thought it was precious.

My level of patience this week has been zero. Zero. Surprisingly, when my patience level is low, very low, the kids don't have that great of a day either.

We were on our way to church on Wednesday night and I said to Sage, "You have done nothing but whine and complain all day."

And then I thought, but what have I done all day? Maybe I am not as vocal as Sage but in my mind and heart, I have only been whining and complaining. Hm, wonder where he gets it?

But you know what, it hasn't been just a day. It's been all week. The week of No Patience.

Even this afternoon as I was trying to take a nap with Sage I was getting so annoyed that he would move and how dare he move in a bed while he is looking at a book and make it so that I can not sleep!

Everyday I think today is a new day. My patience will have returned. And then they want breakfast. And Kolby starts with his "Mama. Mama" every 2 seconds and never follows the "Mama." with anything but another "Mama."

I took this week as a laying low week. Sage has a cough that just won't go away, so we haven't been to the gym all week. I thought that would help with my patience since I wouldn't be trying to rush out the door in the morning so I could get on the elliptical right as Regis and Kelly were starting. But, no. I have still been low on patience.

And, I know what your thinking, mom, pray for patience. I sure have. Many times.

And many times have I apologized to my kids for not having patience.

But tomorrow is a new day. A day where I will be away from the kids most of the time at a womans retreat. And then a new week.

And you know what is coming next week? Pictures of the baby/guest room completed! Even though, there is only one wall of wallpaper border scraped so far. It will be done by Wednesday the 15th.

Patience!

Dear Mr. Weather Man,

I don't know why I called you dear because I don't hold you dear in my heart. Not this year, anyway.

You keep giving us weather appropriate for our region, but I can't help but roll my eyes and sigh everyday when I hear or read the forecast. And then you try to give me hope by saying a cold front is coming in! A cold front, bringing mid eighties! That is not a cold front!

Did you know that the date is October 7? OCTOBER! I am supposed to be making yummy soups, pumpkin bread, chili, shepherds pie.

I am supposed to be wearing jeans, everyday. Without thinking about it, wake up and get dressed in my jeans and a sweatshirt. At least a long sleeve shirt, maybe even a jacket on top. Definitely no flip flops anymore.

Do you know what I am wearing everyday? Flip flops. Shorts. Skirts. Short sleeved dresses. T-shirts.

What am I cooking? I don't know. I keep trying to cook fall like meals. They just don't taste as yummy. And it is so hard to want to make potato soup when it is 88 degrees plus humidity.

I try to pretend it is fall and burn my favorite candle but it just isn't the same. I look outside and see bright sunshine and green leaves. The only dead leaves are from Hurricane Ike.

I don't even want to buy gourds and pumpkins to decorate my mantle. It just doesn't seem right.

I try to have a good attitude, but really, the pool is still open. Sage still wants to go swimming every afternoon. I just can't do it.

Maybe in January or February, I will enjoy the forecasts a little more.

Sincerely,

Kristy

Drama Trauma

We went to Chick-fil-A for lunch today. It was a special treat for the boys and then we were going to pick out Sage's school supplies because we have been sorely lacking in that department. We don't have a red crayon or children's scissors or anything else really. It was supposed to be fun.

Sage and Kolby were in the play area and I was chatting with a mom at a different table, just a little and then I heard it. The sound of Sage's cry. He was just coming out of the door, his face was twisted up into his cry and his hands were balled up by his mouth and nose.

I was asking what happened? what happened? as I scooped him up, moved his hands to check for blood and walked back to our table. The whole restaurant was looking at us because Sage isn't a quiet crier. He's loud, very loud. His head went right to my shoulder and something made me want to check for blood again. I pulled my shoulder back and craned my neck to look at his face. And that's when I saw it. Blood pouring from his nose and into his open mouth. I was surprised and stood up quickly carrying him to where there were napkins. It sounded like the whole restaurant gasped, but maybe it was just me. I said "Jesus, help." An employee asked if she could bring me a bag of ice, I said sure. I was trying to hold napkins continuously under his nose and comfort him. As I threw the dirty napkins into the trash can, I noticed the trash can was missing. I knew nobody wants to pick up someone else's bloody napkins, so I picked them up and set them on a clean napkin on the counter where Sage was sitting. The blood slowed quickly to a trickle, I asked for a glass of ice water for him since he had blood in his mouth and he started to calm down.

I grabbed a bunch more napkins and realized that I had left Kolby at our table eating his ice-cream. I looked up and the sweet mom that I had been chatting with earlier had gotten up and stood next to Kolby while I dealt with Sage. I thanked her as she gathered her kids and left. Kolby never stopped eating his ice cream.

We started to make our way out, getting Sage's shoes from the play area and cleaning up Kolby after his ice cream.

Then came the sneeze. The sneeze that sent blood droplets flying through the air landing on me, Sage and the floor. Luckily, the table across from us was empty! The bummer is that I have to wash my maternity shorts that I just washed again and they weren't even stretched out enough as it was.

The story finally came out. Sage was going down the slide and a little girl decided to climb up it. And BAM! Bloody nose.

My son's first bloody nose was from a girl. And he was the only one crying.

(I think, I didn't really look around the restaurant to see if anyone else came out crying, actually I did see one little kid but I thought it was a boy that was crying and Sage said it was a girl climbing up the slide.)

I have a strange reaction when my kids get hurt. I go into fix it mode but at the same time, I am on the verge of bursting into tears. I hate seeing them crying and bloodied. It's part fear too. Fear of what else could be wrong that I can't see yet. Fear that it is something that I won't be able to fix with a handful of napkins, lots of hugs and kisses and maybe a little Tylenol.

Sage decided to forgo Target and opted to go right home. He was a little shook up. Now, he is resting, make that napping next to me on the bed. I might still be a little shook up too.

On Making Friends

I've lived in this new city for 4 months now. I no longer plug in the GPS every time I get in the van. I can get us around our daily lives without directions. I know where the good library is with the good story times. I know which grocery store I like the best and almost know where all the items on my list are.

We even have a routine of sorts. Monday is laundry day. Tuesday is MDO, grocery shopping and doctor appointments. Wednesday is either MOPS, stay home or do something fun with the boys. Thursday is CBS. Friday mornings are swimming lessons (for 2 more weeks).

Lately, I have been squeezing in time at the gym too. Don't you wish you could see this almost 8 month pregnant lady sweating on the elliptical machine?! The boys love the child center and I love being able to workout and shower knowing the boys are safe and having fun. There are lots of things I love about our gym but that is not the point.

On Tuesday, I decided the MDO days are a little lonely for me. Sure, I can get through the grocery store faster and I usually make sure I get Chick-fil-A for lunch. But it is a quiet day. I don't have anyone to talk to or answer questions. And I know that is kind of the point of the day but it gets lonely. I have other times during the week that I am away from the boys and get a break, the gym, MOPS and CBS. I am away but not really. At those places, we are all getting something good for us.
I am not ready to give up MDO because I know the boys enjoy it and I know I will enjoy the time after the baby is born too, for all those doctor appointments and just extra cuddles with my new little guy and maybe some groceries will get picked up too.

But, I haven't made many friends. Sure, I have friends at the various places that we go. Or rather people that I talk to regularly. I do have one friend in the neighborhood but her 4 year old is in all day pre-school and she works from home, so we don't spend a ton of time together. And, I don't expect to spend a ton of time with friends in this stage of life, moms are busy with little ones at home, I get that.

I really want a good group of girlfriends. I crave that. I fill it with other things like various group activities and our Sunday School class has a girls night out that I go to, but it just isn't the same. I crave the intimacies of a group of girls, I crave being able to call someone and ask them to meet me and my crazies for lunch somewhere or just getting together to let the kids play and drink a coffee or a Dr. Pepper. I crave having girlfriends that know me, that get me, that enjoy being around me for just me, not because we are in the same group activity.

I have filled a void and feel less lonely than when we first moved here, but life still doesn't look the way I had imagined it.

And that isn't to say that I am not content. I am content. I love my life. I can't say I love living in Houston because it has been and continues to be a big adjustment. It just takes time.

Time.