Jesus, listen.

Jesus, listen. You probably aren't a follower of my blog, but just in case, I thought I'd write you an entry. Let me start with catching you up right quick since you may have been busy beckoning on the behalf of POW's, Haitian Crisis, BP Oil Spill, etc.

As you already know, we have a baby coming in about 10 weeks. I know I didn't say "thanks" at first, I get a little behind on thank you notes when I have questions, but "thanks".

It would be twelve weeks away, the delivery that is, but with the anxiety issues you and God gifted me with, I have to have a planned inducement to manage my freakingoutness. Let me get right to the point so that you can go back to helping out world catastrophes and so forth.

So, what kind of joke is it you and God are doing by not letting me be able to have an ultrasound telling me if it is a girl or boy? I'm just really curious. It's freaking me out not being able to get things done. I'm not the unisex type. (You probably knew that because you're Jesus, and all.) I need to know if I'm having another girl so I can get the hot pink and toile fired up in that room.

I'd love to be able to post a picture of the nursery, but......who wants to see a 1/3 guest room, 1/3 nursery storage, 1/3 Steven's closet combo?

I bet if you audibly answered me right now, you say:
"It looks like you have a closet to clean up in your master bedroom, so Steven (who I highly favor), can move his clothes back in from the guest/nursery room. Why don't you work on that?" And, Jesus, since this post is just mainly about my concerns with the sex of the baby (feels funny to say the s word in a blog to you, but how else do you skip around that in this case) and not why Steven always seems highly favored. I would like to ask why things are always so much easier for him, one of these days--be thinking on that, okay, Jesus? Is it because his parents churched him up more than mine did? Is it because he doesn't have generational curses? Is it....oh, that's another time, but Jesus, you know I wonder stuff. Okay, anyway...

Well, Jesus. That leads me to my next cyclical level of curiosities--My swelling self! Why do I have to swell? It's not like I have room for this mess. I feel like a one legged man in a butt kickin' contest trying to get stuff done because the swelling makes me clumsy. PLUS, my nostrils are swollen on the inside and hearing myself breath is freaking me out, too. I sound like a vaporizer.

My second, or twentieth, question is in response to what you are probably thinking is the answer to my swelling. This is you Jesus---->"Drink more water." Well, I'm good with commands and all, Jesus, (okay, honestly, I'm stil struggling with the "Fear Not" command and when ocean BP spill is cleaned up, if you can look into my fear issues, that'd be cool with me) but can I just ask on the way--why the heck does water not taste like KoolAid, Sweet Tea or Sprite? Why can the stuff that's bad for you taste bad and the stuff that's good for you taste good?

Jesus. Jesus? Where'd you go? My questions are really plaguing you, I guess. You probably rushed right over to God to let him in on the few things like my ultrasound, my swelling and water taste that He forgot when He was doing the seven day creation thing. Thanks, Jesus. I'll text ya later. You didn't tell me bye, but that's cool. I talk so fast that I know you got the gyst.