Zeke's Baby Book Update

 Each day so many cute moments go by without me recording them. Zeke is so talkative these days...giving a running commentary on all the happenings. Tazara is following close behind and will soon have a vocabulary all her own. Here are a few of Zeke's rantings that I want to remember when he's grown and left baby talk behind.

When home with Maryland family last year I heard Kendra speak of grace to Randy so I decided to introduce the concept to Zeke. Now he readily pleas for "grace!" every time he gets close to the edge of being in trouble. Tazara is crying and I come to see what has happened. Zeke looks up with earnest eyes "Give me grace Mama. Give me grace! God gives grace to you, you give grace to me and I give grace to Tazara!" How can I resist?! "Okay Zeke I'll give you grace." I don't think he's quite got his head around how to dish it out himself but he's getting there.

Some months ago I pulled Zeke out of his crib, he was excited about his new discovery after some weeks of absence:  "Mama I found my belly button. It was hiding under my pants."

On a rainy day walking home from church the rain was bombarding us. From Zeke's mouth:  "I get my gun and shoot the rain."

Was telling Andrew about the bully at the play ground who pulled his hair and hurt Tazara. Waving an authoritative finger Zeke chimes in "I tell him 'No! Don't hurt my sister!”

We all got blood tested for celiac disease a while ago. Zeke was very upset about them putting a "hole in my arm."  The "hole" in his arm troubled him far more than the pain. Tears would come to his eyes as he explained the horror for days after of someone making a hole in his precious arm. When the plaster came off and he found that God had healed his arm there was much relief and jubilation for the little fellow.

I can see some positives for our kids growing up with two parents interested in and practicing counseling. I hear Andrew explain conflict and resolution to Zeke as the little guy sits there wide eyed and soaking it all in. I overhear Zeke talking to Tazara in her crib "Are you happy Zar?" Frequently Zeke tells me he's angry. I silently rejoice that he's learned to name and understand that emotion since its not one Andrew or I learnt to experience much. (I must admit I won't mind Zeke's angry episodes occurring a little less frequently.)
Zeke's recently made the switch from cot to bed. He was having a hard time with it. Andrew spent a long while talking it over with him, explaining the pains and necessity of change in our lives. When someone asked Zeke if he likes his new bed he thoughtfully replied "sometimes I do and sometimes I don't." Andrew and I rejoice at Zeke and Tazara's learning to express themselves and interact with their world. We seek to listen to them and validate their emotions and feelings even if it doesn't seem rational or in proportion to us. We try and help them to see their own hearts rather than blaming others and circumstances on their emotional responses and behavior. On the flip side, I often find it a real challenge to be consistent and not let their feelings and emotions hold too much sway over how the home is run. 

It's fun to see the differences between Zeke and Tazara. Tazara's become quite taken and opinionated about clothes. She brings me her favorites throughout the day and at times has refused to take off her favorite purple jacket even when it's hot outside. She tugs on the pink clothes from my closet and wants me to wear the colorful girly ones. She's started traipsing around in my shoes too. Hats hold an endless fascination for her. As a result of being Zeke's little sister she's been indoctrinated with many manly stories of guns and animals, tractors and trucks, but Tazara is still seeming to find her way as a little lady.

Exam Week Peek.

But I lie. This is not a peek into our life during the last week of Term I at GTC. The thinking is that it's been a while since a post from either of us and perhaps some time before another thought out piece would be thought up. In the meantime here are a few pics from recent times inside the last couple weeks here...

Sunset at Weymouth (a recent bike riding path discovery). 

Ride over and racked ready to head home.

 I enjoyed a solo ~1hr ride around Wattle Downs when Eden & kids visited the farm.

Sunrise as viewed from our lounge window.

Same sunrise about 30min later from outside my office just down the hill.

O yeah! God is the Ultimate Artist alright.

Ok, it's time to get back into the books...I guess I'd better include one of the kids for their fan club before I do eh?

Zeke & Za down on the farm.

Cute Quotations from the Little People

I haven't started a baby book for either one of the kids but there are so many cute, precious and tender moments I don't want to forget...

Last week Zeke, Tazara and I were sitting down for lunch. Andrew was substantially late so we were starting to eat without him. Tazara kept looking towards the doorway and saying "Baba? Baba?" Zeke answered her sympathetically "Baba not here Honey." "Baba not here Honey."

A few weeks ago when Zeke was upset with me about something he told me "I'm going away....I'm going to the farm!" I believe I know just how he feels.

On a number of occasions when Zeke has been yelling inside I've told him "Not inside Zeke. If you want to scream go outside." One morning, as Kirstie and I were getting breakfast on the table, Zeke was earnestly talking to me about something or other. I was agreeing while trying to figure out what he was saying. The conversation went something like: "Mama, I not scream inside. I go outside and scream." "Yes Zeke. That's right." Nek minit Zeke is outside the kitchen door calmly shouting and screaming at the top of his lungs in bursts.

I don't think any camera could capture the adorableness of Tazara walking across the sandbox in her pink hat with a red gumboot in each hand.

After bath time this afternoon Zeke and Tazara were monkeying around on the double bed. Tazara would fall on Zeke with a hug until Zeke was thoroughly pinned down. Zeke yelling "Not too much hug Tazara. Not too much hug." They would then laugh, Zeke scrabble out and they'd start the chase all over again.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

I'm thankful for each of the tender and precious moments hidden within each day.

I'm thankful God's provided an advocate to plead my defense before my King. 

I would have lost heart, 

unless I had believed

that I would see 

the goodness of the Lord 

in the land of the living! 

(Ps 27v13)

I'm thankful for a man that loves and fears the Lord and waits on Him.

I'm thankful for the two precious little people God's entrusted to me. 

Your goodness goes beyond my understanding!!!

Thank you God for Kirstie. For a rekindled friendship with my sister after years apart. Thank you for arranging and working out for her to come here to New Zealand! In the last couple weeks of her being here I've had so many sentimental moments. Not because I don't want to be here or because there's anything sad about Kirstie being here but...When we get each other laughing... joke, sing, tease and have all our crazy banters...I realize some of what I'm missing out on by living so very far away from my family.

Here on earth we get tastes of glory- our hearts are delighted with glimpses of heaven- but mixed in with the pleasure and joy and wonder is grief and pain and hardships of living in a fallen and cursed world. 

Thank you God for the glimpses of your glory! Thank you that one day you will restore all, make all things new. In you is perfect beauty and perfect delight. My soul finds perfect rest! 

I love you Abba! Thank you for loving me SOO SOO much!

Photo Update- featuring Tazara

Starting Yoga early!

Swim time

Me and Pooh Bear

Time with Nana!

Sharing Papa

Reading with Grand-dad

Winter Beach day!

It tastes good, you should try it!

Loving it!

Being a Mum is hard...

Today Tazara got her heal pricked. They squeezed her little foot for about 15 minutes to get enough blood to fill a tube. I held her tight stroking her distressed little red cheek. I told her “you'll be alright baby. Mama's got you. It will be okay. It will be over soon love...”

Zeke scrapes his knee. I give it a kiss and tell him it will get all better. But will it? The falls are from higher heights and the scrapes are deeper.

I wish I could scoop my babies up and keep them from all harm. I wish I could tell them it will be alright. That they're safe and secure and I'll take care of them.

But will it? Will it be all better? Will all their pain go away? Will they be safe and secure and cared for? There's bullying and falling and crashing and anger and violence and sin and messiness... Try as I might to shield my children they will still get their fair share of hurt and heart ache.

Each time I'm upset with a pricked conscious or a scraped heart I run to Abba and find shelter and refuge and a hiding place under the shallow of His wings. He cuddles me and tells me it will be alright and that I'll be all better.... And the wonderful thing is it's actually true! The words I long to hear when my heart is breaking, the words I want to tell my children when their tears are streaming are true when spoken from the Lord Almighty. He will set all things right. He will wipe away every tear. It will be over soon. He will fight for and protect his babies! He will make all things new. He will restore what's broken. He will defeat sin and sickness forever.

I don't know about you but sometimes being a Mama in this crazy big bad scary world freaks me out. His words give hope! They give rest!

A First Sentence Story

This story has been in my drafts for a couple months. With Zeke turning two today I thought it's as good a day as any to post it. I feel so privileged and blessed to be a Mama to this little guy.

Zeke's first sentence "no nurse" deserves a story. I hesitate because a few might be shocked to find I still nurse Zeke at nearly two. It's a topic I've given a lot of thought to in the last couple years.

In New Zealand there's been a recent shift back to breastfeeding as more and more research is uncovering health-benefits for baby as well as Mum. These health benefits make sense to me but there is more to it. God seems to always have great purpose behind the things he does, some that we can see and some that we can't. It's meaningful and significant to me that an infant needs to be fed every 2-3hours, even through the night. This feeding is done by the mother, giving of herself, her time, her energy, her love. You can't be much closer than being held in the arms, embraced and fed both physically and emotionally. While holding and nursing your baby it's only natural to look into their eyes and speak words of adoration and love. Life is nurtured through love. If you don't mind following me on my train of thought....why is there so much brokenness? Many people seem unable to love nowadays - like they don't know how to let someone into their heart, be close to and give of themselves for another. Could it be that one of the reasons is they lacked this fundamental closeness and love as a baby? Learning what it feels like to be deeply loved and held and known. What a loving God to create such a nurturing and loving environment for a helpless baby to be born into. And what does this teach us about ourselves as God's little ones? God as our Father has stamped his image on both the male and the female so we can see both masculine and feminine attributes of his character embodied here on earth.

 And now for the story. When Tazara was born Zeke grew especially attached to the one on one time he gets with Mama through nursing before bed and when he wakes up. When Andrew or I greet him in the morning he stands up in his crib and with a serious expression says "nurse!" If you side track him with changing or other he gets increasingly more urgent sounding. He plays happily and entertains himself throughout the day but when he's especially tired or upset or just wants some attention he'll ask to nurse. I often have to tell him that it's not time to nurse but that I'll read him a book or do something else with him. In the last couple weeks, especially around the five o'clock hour, which can be particularly trying for all of us, he'll often find a book (after giving up on being held or played with), sit himself on his stool, and say to himself "no nurse." Every so often I hear him in the next room reinforcing to himself that it's not time to nurse. It's a little pathetic really and it makes me want to scoop him up in a hug but it's also just so precious and cute! Andrew says he'll have to capture it on video to flaunt at Zeke's 21st.

Have you ever thought about how dependent a human baby is? Many animals are quick to walk but our babes come to us so defenseless and needy. Doesn't God know that mothers are busy and tired? Yes. But perhaps that's why nursing is something only the mother can do. My own Mum was busy with 10 kids, home schooling and gardening and yet she seemed to welcome the break every three hours to sit down, put feet up and dote on the new little person entrusted to her.

It's hard to believe our son is turning two! Zeke's growing into a confident and tender little man. He's getting really good at climbing and jumping. He's learning how to play with Tazara without injuring her. He likes to make her laugh. He loves reading books. He's got lots more exciting and challenging growing, changing and learning ahead. He's got a Papa and Mama that are proud of him and love him to pieces. A sister that adores him. And lots of family and friends to cheer him on.

Capturing Life

He's just under three feet tall and he keeps his domain in good order. In gumboots and hat he's his own boss. He likes to sleep in his sleeper bag with two cars and his blankie. He has an emphatic "yes" and is passionate about "no." He studies his notebook and reads himself books sitting on his wooden stool but the only sentence found in his vocabulary is "no nurse."

She wakes up with a huge smile. She's determined not to be left out and stays close to the action by pushing with her small toes and pulling on her left elbow. She has rolls in the thighs and long eye lashes. She lets toys be taken and doesn't mind being stepped upon now and then but she'll let you hear about it if she needs attention.

He's six feet something tall. He reads a lot. Through the cracked door of his study in the morning I spy him on his knees with bible and journal before him. He speaks gun, car, rugby, motorbike, geography, poetry and theology. His back causes him pain. Many days we can eat lunch together. We talk easily. We laugh watching the kids. We cry sometimes too, especially me (being a woman and all).

Life is precious. I soak up the moments but they pile on top of each other burying one another. The days pass slowly and yet things change so fast. I can't hold on to it but I can accept and embrace and live the days as they pass.

While pushing the pram I was thinking about how much I'm changing and how each of my siblings, parents, nieces and nephews are changing too and yet I'm missing it. I'm missing those precious moments that make up their lives because I've chosen to be here in New Zealand a world away from them. How could I have chosen to miss out on the lives of those my heart grew up wrapped around? It's simple and yet it's complicated. I loved Andrew. I still love him. I love the children God's given us and I'm enjoying the beautiful and messy moments of life and love he's giving us. Love involves risk and sacrifice. You can't love without it. Love is not easy but love is what every heart craves.  

It's the same with our Lord. Many proclaim "Jesus loves you" and yes it's true but he also demands everything. He asks for everything but He has also given everything...His very life. He didn't die for a now and then friendship when we feel like it, he died so that he could give us life in Him. Unless we leave all and follow him we get none of Him.

I see the paint strokes of my Creator sweep across the changing Autumn trees. I learn of him as I see his image crafted into my son. I glimpse his tender heart as I watch Tazara play. He reveals Himself to me in an abundance of ways...and I long for ALL of HIM! 

Ramp it Down and Batten it Up!

Couple days ago I was out in the yard when I observed Zeke amble out of the front door astride his black & yellow motorbike trike (a hand-down gift from my sister Helen whose many boys have outgrown it). Zeke sat contemplating the ride down the wooden ramp. But only for a second...then he launched off the level to gain the slope and...

Interlude: His first time down some 2-3wks ago I was seriously impressed with my sons level of control. He kept his feet down paddling forward but somehow slowing his progress enough that he easily made the 90 degree turn at the corner of the house and off the ramp without a hint of trouble. I had been worried how he'd cope when he eventually ventured down it unlikely to comprehend the possible consequences. Well, I was no longer worried.

Until the 2nd time he descended a few days later...when he held his feet up, got spooked at the speed he collected and losing confidence he panicked a right swerve into the side rails. Only he slid off the back before the bike hit so wasn't hurt any more than emotionally. Papa ran down and gave him a comfort cuddle but after bawling for 10 seconds he shook me off and marched over the the fallen bike and struggled trying to get it right side up. Once up he refused to get back on but wheeled it down and round the left hand corner onto the concrete yard by himself. Perhaps he's chanced his luck down the ramp since and pulled it off but I doubt it as neither Eden or I have seen him trying or heard him crying if so.

...from too far away to interfere with the physics about to unfold I watched as he pulled his feet up freeing his bike to go with gravity unhindered. Next thing, as the rush hit his senses, our Zekester throws his head back with a huge smile and shuts his eyes in delight. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry but anyway ran forward before deciding to try and catch him at the bottom as there was no way he'd ever take the corner at that speed nevermind sightless. He beat me there and the front fairing of the bike hit the railing so hard it blew the batten off the nail holding it to the fence. Thankfully this absorbed the shock and stopped the bike a little slower than if the batten had held so that when my boy's noggin connected with the next batten to the right it didn't do major damage. He sure bawled though. But again after 10 seconds shook me off and went to check out his bike. He couldn't pull the front wheel up and out of the fence and that got him crying. Eden came out and I asked her for the camera. This got Zeke quite upset as it meant his bike had to stay stuck where it was until recorded for posterity. Then he swung a leg over it and rolled down the remaining few feet of ramp. Hasn't been down from the top again yet though :)

Remove all the battens Pa. Then I could jump straight off!

Eden has said since that she'd not been looking forward to Zeke's teenage years given his already obvious passion for motorbikes - but she'd not been expecting this at only 21mths! He's also partial to pulling the front wheel up for a stationary 'wheelie' when sitting on the bike inside the house. Only one day he pulled so hard that he flipped it up backwards right over himself and the bike ends up landing within a centimetre of his little sisters head where she'd been lying supposedly safe seemingly well out of the way.

Me? I'm a proud Papa - that's my boy! But I'm also feeling something new. Wanting to protect these wonderful wee creatures without stifling their creativity or making them fearful souls. I'm also admiring my parents who managed to strike a pretty good balance for me growing up.         

Toddled Christmas Time

Rhyming honour for some Great Gift Givers:

Grandipop & Grandmary (Zeke's magnet train arrived on Christmas Eve!),

Aunty Lorraine whose VW/Ka like toy 'Go Car' is so funkily functional,

Dad & Mum, the Tipper Truck works like fun.

Trained from a far
American bazaar
By magnetic Mary & Grandipapa.

Carred. Go Aunty great
Your aqua blue bait
Is so white-tyred quaint.

Trucked down the road
A love-bearing load
From G’dad & Nana’s abode.

 By ;~pikipikipoet

A Birth Story...Introducing Tazara Dawn

Welcome into our home Tazara!


Before God formed you in my womb He knew you. He knew you'd fit just right with your Papa, Zeke and me. We love your soft chubby cheeks and your bright blue eyes. I wish you didn't shed so many tears and that I knew how to console you better when you cry. Your sweet smiles are such a reward. I love how you nearly laugh when I kiss your neck and talk to you. You've spent many hours snuggled close to me in your 'mama lovin' wrap or lying nestled right beside me on the bed as I study, read or rest.





 Zeke has had to adjust to sharing attention with you. It's been six weeks now since you were born. He's excited to see you in the mornings. He gets on his tip toes and nearly tips the bassinet over in order to get a good look at his pretty little sister. He rocks your carseat when you cry. He knows how to put a dummy in your mouth and take it back out again - trying a taste in between to make sure its safe for his wee sis. A few days ago I stepped out of the car for some veggies and asked Zeke to look after you. He gave me a knowing look and placed a hand on your car seat.

My sister, your auntie Katrina came all the way from America to be here when you were born. She had been talking to you lots when you were in mama's tummy and she was there when you were born. She had her 13th birthday the day of your baptism. You got lots of snuggles and cuddles from her in your first weeks before Katrina had to go home.

  
Here's the story of your birth:

In the early hours of Monday morning, 24th September 2012, Tazara Dawn started her journey...God delivered her to us at 10:52am.

The 20 wk scan showed a baby running slightly below average for size. I'd had a scan at 35wks because my midwife was concerned baby might be small....it turns out she showed us all wrong by weighing in at 9lbs15oz when born!!

Katrina, Zeke and me...waiting.....

With lots of false labour starting at 33 weeks we were expecting another early baby. Tazara took her time however, arriving fashionably late nearly a week past due date. God answered prayers regarding not having to be induced and brought Tazara the very morning that my midwife had suggested as induction day. I'd been waking up for weeks with strong contractions at night often coming just minutes apart so it wasn't new to me the morning of the twenty-fourth. With the due date behind us, I knew she couldn't keep us in suspense much longer. At 3am I jotted down times...contractions were still jumping around roaming from 3 to 10 minutes apart but they were getting stronger. Many people had told me that second babies tend to come fast. With Zeke's birth being only 15 months earlier and lots of pre-labour, I was warned to not waste any time once labour started. Feeling like it was finally the real thing Andrew and I prayed and started arranging to take Zeke to Mum and Dad Dickson's, waking Katrina and eating some cereal. Though a little nervous I was full of excitement and anticipation at meeting our baby!

Angela, our midwife agreed to meet us at River Ridge Birth Center. In the car I texted Papa and Mama in the States. Once there, things had slowed down a little so Katrina, Andrew and I walked up and down the steps and I gave Katrina a tour of the place with momentary pauses as contractions came and went. 

Poor Andrew had already taken off work the night before for a sick day. His eyes were red and sore with conjunctivitis and his body aching from a nasty flu and cough. Once contractions started coming close together and intense I got in the nice deep round bath, I was so thankful for the relief the water brought. Birth showed me that Andrew and I have grown closer over the last year- he was so good at walking me through each contraction and doing for me just exactly what was wanted. Although deep in pain I felt spoiled with Andrew and Katrina's loving care. It was so special to have my dear sister... all the way from the States... close, squeezing my hand and massaging my pressure points. Labour moved along slower than Angela expected and the contractions kept coming strong without moving to pushing contractions. Eventually she broke the waters to move things along. At the end when pain was excruciating Katrina poured cold water down my back to distract from the pain. I felt desperate for it to be over, I alternated between panicking and telling myself it'd be okay, God's over it all and I'll meet my baby soon.

All pain was momentarily forgotten at the sight of my little girl! IT'S A GIRL! Katrina had been talking to and referring to her little niece as a "she" for weeks but Andrew and I had been convinced we were having a boy. In a way though, I wasn't surprised, holding her there in my arms felt so good and right and perfect and comforting. She took a minute to take a good breathe in, I was so relieved and happy tears filled my eyes when she finally let out a strong cry. I held her close as we oowed and ahhed over her. Thank you God. Birth was behind us and a little girl in our arms!

Andrew hopped out of the pool for a quick shower. After delivering the placenta, blood gushed out like from a hose. Angela pushed a button to call some nurses/midwives. They thought the bleeding was because of the placenta so they jabbed my leg three times with something to slow or stop the bleeding and massaged my stomach vigorously. Katrina was holding Tazara. I looked around for Andrew hoping he'd return. I passed out a few times and when I came to Andrew had his arms around me. I was helped from the bath into a wheel chair and we made our way to the bed. I tried nursing Tazara and Andrew went for the phone so we could call our families with the news. I was looking forward to a clean shower and some food while praying under my breath that I wouldn't need stitches.

When Angela was finished with some paper work she checked the blood flow and said I would need a couple stitches. I took a breath, asked Andrew to pray for me and prepared for some more pain. I consoled myself with the thought that this was the end of the suffering..then I could shower and eat and hold my new baby. I was wrong.

After the stitches I wasn't able to stand or even hold myself up to sit in bed. Angela said that unless I could get up on my own I couldn't stay at the birth center. I tried to make myself get up but my body wouldn't cooperate. Andrew told Angela "just call the ambulance" so she did and while we all waited she hooked me up to a catheter. The ambulance crew was made up of two girls and a guy. After introducing themselves and quickly taking in the situation they decided not to take along the other patient needing an ambulance but to leave straight away with me. They quickly transferred me onto a stretcher as Andrew tucked Tazara in her car-seat preparing to follow the ambulance in our car. Lying in the ambulance I asked if my sister could come with me? "Yes"! so Katrina hopped in beside me.

Things seemed to be happening faster than I could take them in. My head held a blur of emotions but I must confess I was a little excited to be riding in an ambulance. They connected me to a heart monitor. Once in the hospital multiple people introduced themselves and stated what they were about to do. My head was spinning and it was hard to concentrate or take in what was being said or happening around me. A doctor with gloves started to do an inspection. It was excruciatingly painful. The inspection retear my prior stitches. I protested and asked if they could please wait for Andrew my husband to get there. I felt insecure and unsure of what all they were trying to do to me. I didn't think I could handle anything else being done to me and it was all very much out of my control. I looked over at Katrina who looked in pain to see me suffering again. I wanted to assure her it would all be okay but I was starting to get really scared. It seemed to take forever for Andrew to come and they wanted to go ahead without him... he walked through the door and they started again to look for the problem and find out where all the bleeding was coming from. Katrina stepped out of the room with Tazara. Someone handed me a gas mask and I started hyperventilating. I don't know whether I was passed out or not. I started to see in slow motion and I couldn't feel or move my body but I could see Angela looking really concerned. It took effort to move my eyes to find Andrew's. I thought I'd gone into a coma and feared I'd never come out.

When I came too I was crying uncontrollably, the staff and Andrew were trying to calm me. They had found a third degree tear and a ruptured artery, they decided not to do any more until I was put under. Thank you God! People rushed around, a few more introduced themselves, with great effort I lifted my hand to scribble my signature on a few sheets of paper, agreeing I was okay with having annithesea.

Janet (Andrew's loving sister) came to pick up Katrina who would stay at Dad & Mum's. Andrew waited with Tazara outside the operating room. During surgery Andrew tried to console poor little Tazara, distressed with hunger. I was told that while under anesthetics my heart rate rose at the sound of her crying. 

It was late evening when I came to. Tazara was sound asleep and exhausted so she won't wake up to nurse. My heart rate climbed and blood pressure dropped throughout the night, by 3am they had started the first of three blood transfusions. Alone in the hospital and unable to sleep I called Mama in the wee hours of the morning to talk over the birth with her. Everyone who walked in told me I looked like a ghost. I wasn't allowed out of bed for a shower until two days later. I felt so disgusting and when I finally saw myself in the mirror it was a sad sight, so much fluids had been pumped into my veins that I looked swollen all over.

The days in the hospital were special bonding time with Tazara, she spent much of the time in my bed as I couldn't lift her from hers and the nurses took a while to come when I'd ring. I also had some good times with God to think and pray and journal and process the birth. I really missed Andrew and Katrina and Zeke though and felt lonely and sore and sleep deprived. Andrew came twice each day and had beautiful roses delivered to my room! Lynda came and saw me on her break from working another branch of the hospital. She had arranged meals so that I wouldn't have have to cook once home! Mum brought a very happy and well cared for little Zeke by and I cried to see his precious self. The hospital is particular about visiting hours but they allowed Katrina to come and stay with me the last day. I felt so much healthier and happier with Katrina there and the nurses evaluation only confirmed Katrina's healing influence! :)

 I got special visits from Pastor Michael and Gea. Paula, Jess, and Talia arrived showering me with gifts and baby girl clothes! Talia changed Tazara from her blue car outfit and into one with pink roses! :) Jess spoiled me with a grocery bag full of luxurious treats and yummy nibbles. Peter van der Wel also came by just as we were leaving. It was humbling, overwhelming and special to be so well cared for and looked after by family and friends even though many I love are an ocean away. 

Home at last!

Snuggles with Aunty Katrina!

Baptism at 3 weeks

Tazara Dawn 11 weeks.

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