More from the Home Front

Well, we've all helpfully gotten sick, since Matt is gone. Actually grateful he left in time to escape it or he would be having a miserable week.

Baby is unhappy and looking at us like its our fault, his nose running and his eyes red. Emma insists she is not sick AND, may the Lord be praised, comes home every day from school to write letters on the board (we have a chalk board in the living room, just in case) and tell us what they are. Aedan finally ate his broccoli this morning and then had a banana and some mango cobbler and a cookie and a number of other things. Decided to forgo the broccoli battle this evening and we all had pancakes. Just seemed like the necessary thing in the middle of a cold and the disintegration of the World Wide Anglican Communion.

I've been hitting refresh at Stand Firm and calling Matt trying to get him to tell me stuff. But so far there hasn't been anything to tell. What's the point of being married to someone THERE if you can't get news a few minutes earlier? I imagine they must be frustrated, trying to track down bishops and news and having everything be so managed. Just speculating, though, don't have any inside information At ALL.

Finally stopped hitting refresh and climbed into the attic to seek out baby clothes. Was able to find most all of E's beautiful pristine baby dresses, except the very smallest size, which is what I was looking for, along with a large ugly grey woolen pregnant dress which, unfortunately, I will probably have time to wear before giving birth.

I am surprised by one thing. I'm probably about 3 weeks out from having this baby, and for the first time out of four, I'm not impatient at all. This is not the right moment for a baby, and I'm basically sure I will know the right moment. This is a curious experience for me. All the other times, six weeks out I just wanted the sucker out (I'm not a very tall person, six weeks out there's usually just no more room). This time, I feel pretty good. I'm horribly uncomfortable and large and my feet are swollen, but for whatever reason, I'm also perfectly content. I don't want this baby to arrive before its supposed to. I don't want to rush anything. I am basically happy to keep plugging along until everything is in order.

I wish I could transfer this new calm to my feelings about the Communion and the Church and all that is going on in these coming days. If God is really in charge, which he is, than everything will happen as its supposed to. Its so easy to write that down and so ridiculously impossible to believe it. However, I am trying. We (my mother, me, my kids) have stopped and prayed several times today that God's will will be done.

This morning we also read about Cain and Abel (I have been trying to read about Jesus, but Emma has been wanting to hear about Adam and Eve, so we continued on from yesterday's disastrous events in the Garden of Eden).
'Why didn't Cain bring what God wanted him to?' E wanted to know.
'I'm not sure' I said, 'I think he probably didn't stop to find out what God wanted. But what could Cain have done, when God wasn't happy with his gift, instead of killing his brother?'
'Well,' said E,'He could have brought something else. If Jesus wants to borrow my bunny, I will lend it to him.'
'That's very nice,' said Nonni (my mother), 'I'm glad to hear you'd be willing to share your bunny'.
'Time to go to school,' I said.

And now, its time for me to stop hitting refresh and go to bed. It will all still be here in the morning.