Lately I feel like I've been run over by a semi truck. We gladly take what challenges God brings, but lately we've been contemplating screaming "enough". It's been a whirlwind of forced acceptance and new realities, some good, some bad, but present nonetheless. I'm refusing to turn this into a sob story because frankly I'm over the uncertainties, surprise, and queries: to wrap it up and lay it all out there, my dad's leukemia is back (after about 1 1/2 years) and my brother leaves for Iraq (for 6-12 months) in a couple days.

Dan of course is the most supportive husband I could have ever dreamed of and always manages to make me laugh and put things into perspective. He says giving me laugh lines and a lot of love is at the top of his to-do list every day.

All in all, I know things will be fine, perhaps not easy, but time.

On a more positive note, this pregnancy is closer to the end, 35 weeks and coming faster and faster to a close (not quite fast enough though if you ask Danny, he is beyond excited and totally prepared (spreadsheets abound...even though this is not our first rodeo). We're ready and waiting...and have been told that we're getting close (whatever that may mean). I'm super excited/petrified to see how the Roo handles having a little sister, and by having a little sister I totally mean, not being the center of attention. Only time will tell but we've played out all the seemingly conceivable scenarios in our head and have accepted that it will be nothing like we could fathom: Addison has a charisma all her own and when we think we've got her figured out, she flips the switch faster than Bristol and Levi do their relationship status.

Addison is a total chatterbox and sometimes makes it a little difficult for Danny and I to communicate: to break it down we can be talking about anything; how Justin Bieber is the cutest and most talented little lesbian performer, how ridiculous it is for anyone to think the Raiders have a shot at making the playoffs (uh hmmm.. Epic), or what I should make for dinner/dessert, and the little one will start "mom, dad, sing"...and of course we have to break out in song, not to mention dance (yes even in the car) or the grommet will get louder and louder asking again and again, more adamantly each time. The comical glitch is that sometimes a radio's accessibility is not ideal which in turn means a whole lot of "a capella" (consistently proving Danny's daily devotion to me, as I have the world's worst singing voice: the tables turn though when the dancing portion is factored into the judges score :)

Fun and Faith: makes for the best family life!! We are blessed, despite the sometimes overwhelming plates God gives us, and wouldn't have it any other way.

I also leave you with a pictorial lesson in unconditional love from a 1 year old (Addi, and my 22, soon to be 23 year old sister (Rett Syndrome), Tina):

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