It was an amazing 77 degrees outside this morning. The wind picked up while I was watering various flower beds and potted plants and cooled the air down even more. It was glorious. I wish every day in July was like this. But I’m rooted in reality – this is Texas. It’s not going to happen everyday in July.
It’s no secret that I love flowers. I love the details. The details shout of God’s glory and love to me and it’s hard not to take a million pictures. My phone’s photo library is probably 85% flowers. I can’t help it. They’re beautimous.
These lilies aren’t actually growing in our yard. They were part of my birthday bouquet of flowers that had white lilies, white roses and two big, beautiful blue hydrangeas. It was gorgeous. Everything else has cratered, but the lilies are still holding strong for now.
I love this stuff. In fact, I love Lantana so much I have it in three colors. Pink lemonade, yellow, and the orange/red blend below!
Another favorite that comes in a lot of varieties is ice plant. I love the texture of the plants in the next three photos. This orange bloom is a particularly vibrant shade of orangesicle. I don’t know how the color was lost in translation, but you can just imagine it.
My first baby. He is a sweet thing, though completely and utterly spoiled rotten. But that face! How could anyone refuse that face? He smiles in his sleep and when he’s awake he winks at me with green eyes that are as big as saucers. I challenge anyone to refuse his charm. He is adorkable.
Our (unborn) firstborn is beginning to make their mark in the world (or at least on my body). I was rather startled to look down during my workout yesterday and realize that hey, there’s a baby bump there. When did that show up?
B-Dubs then proceeded to squirm and dance all afternoon. Homeboy (or girl) likes to have dance parties that turn into marathons. That’s exciting, but I hope (s)he learns to sleep a lot once they make their appearance. I’m hopeful, but not ignorant of the fact that I was a night owl from birth and my husband refused to sleep or take naps when he was a baby. Still (fingers crossed).
I was telling a stranger in a store last week that I hoped stubborn/bull-headed/obstinacy wasn’t an inherited trait, or that maybe even two really stubborn parents would produce an acquiescent, pleasant, mild-mannered child. Do you know what she did?
And laughed and laughed. And then said, “Oh honey, you’re in trouble.”
Over the last week or so God has been leading me to a lot of resources that talk about grace. I have unreasonable expectations for myself. I can be unforgivably demanding and kind of a task-master when it comes to getting my to-do lists finished. It was just recently that I realized this about myself, but our prayer over the last few months has been that God would prepare and equip us to be good parents. I’m guessing that this revelation and the new sources of reading God has been providing are in answer to those prayers. Things are probably going to get ugly before they get better. Maybe I’m wrong. But I’m kind of stubborn, remember? And sometimes messy is the best way a stubborn person learns. Hopefully grace is an easy lesson.