​Lila made her way into this world on July 20th, 2019.  It was all a blur, and movie-like almost, as I stood on the sidewalk outside of Longhorn's Steakhouse.  My belly was full (in more ways than one), and I was on the phone with my dad when my water broke right then and there for all of the patiently waiting customers to see.  I stared at the puddle in surprise and giggled as Phillip yelled at me to get in the car. (I guess he didn't think it was funny.)

I quickly realized how funny it wasn't as the contractions became stronger.  I had been reading books and watching documentaries all to prepare me for this moment, and somehow none of it mattered.  Lila was on her way, and that was all I could think about!

She arrived at 10:58, a little over two hours after my water broke.  What a whirlwind!  

She was tiny, dark and beautiful.  I couldn't believe I was her mom.  As I held her close and stared at her, all I could think about was how miraculous of an experience this all was.

In the beginning, it was as if I had trouble believing that there was really a baby growing inside of me.  However, from the very moment I felt her move, that all changed.  All of the sudden I was overly aware that she was there, that she was a part of me.  As she grew, so did my attachment of her.  I started dreaming of who she'd be and what she'd look like.  It also became so evident to me that she did not belong to me, she belonged to God.

​God gave us this gift of Lila, and she was in His hands.  I don't mean to sound morbid, but I had to train my thoughts to acknowledge that truth.  It did, in a way, stunt the growth of my attachment to her.  But looking back, it was a gift.  It was a gift to be able to fully recognize that she belonged to HIM. That HE was allowing me to be her mom--not her creator.  From time to time fear would rise up in me--what if something happened to her?  What if I lost her?  What if I lost her during delivery?  But the fear didn't stop there.  What if she gets sick after she is born?  What if she gets in an accident and dies suddenly as a child?  What if?

Then an overwhelming peace came.  She belongs to God.  He is in control.  He will take care of her.  And if He decides to call her home, she will come, whether I am ready or not.  Acknowledging that truth early on allowed me to fully love her without overwhelming fear. (*I am human, so not completely without fear.)  To care for her and raise her with the attitude that she belongs to God.  Now, I know she has only been here for 3 months, and the reality is that as time passes and she grows, it will be challenging to remain in this mindset.  However, by choosing to raise her in this way, I will take it day by day.  Daily I will choose to lift her up to the Lord.  Daily I will love her like the miraculous gift she is.

​With one placement ending during the 7th month of my pregnancy, Phillip and I decided to take a break from foster care until after Lila was born.  We could take up to a six month break before having to redo our training, so that was the plan.  Now, we find ourselves at the end of our break, preparing our hearts to open our home again.  It is a bittersweet feeling, but it doesn't come without fear.  

Like I said, early on in my pregnancy, I was able to train my thoughts and come to grips with the truth that Lila belonged to God.  Although Phillip knows this in his mind, it was still sinking into his heart.  Phillip became anxious about foster care and its role in our family's life.  He was fearful of what could happen to her once we welcomed other children into our home--children who come from a broken past and who have experienced violence and abuse.  Through many prayers and discussions, we finally agreed that foster care is the path that our family is called to.  That meeting these broken children where they are and loving them like Jesus does is the life we want to live.  

As I thought about the fear of what could happen to Lila as we open up our home more and more, I was reminded of Abraham. 
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" He said, “Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I shall tell you.”  "  Genesis 22:2

Take your son, your only son, whom you love...and offer him there as a burnt offering. (If you have never read this story, or it's been a while since you have, read it now! )
Wow.  If this story didn't get to me before, it certainly does now that I am a parent.  Abraham, being the faithful servant he was, obeyed.  He didn't question God.  He didn't bargain with God.  He was obedient.  Was he so full of faith that he knew the Lord would provide a lamb?  Or was he acknowledging the truth that Isaac belonged to God?  Or both?
I sat, with tear-filled eyes, and thought to myself--I love Lila, but God loves her more.  

I want to raise my family in a way that honors The Lord.  I want my time on this earth to be about other people--sharing the love of Christ.  I want Lila to understand just what Jesus intended our lives to be--full of love and sacrifice.  

Lila Monroe Smith is a pure JOY.  She is the sweetest-natured baby and loves everyone she meets.  She looks just like her daddy, but might have her mama's eyes.  She is the best snuggler and loves to chat.  She loves being outside and reading books.  Lila is the best gift--and we are so excited to be her mom and dad.

Thank you to Dixie Cook Sherrod for the beautiful photos!

My Papa was one heck of a man.  Honest, trustworthy, dedicated, patient, kind, hardworking, simple, loving...I could go on and on.  One of his great loves was fishing.  He loved it so much, that he made sure his kids and grandkids had the opportunity to learn and love it too.  I remember digging up worms in his worm bed, learning to bait a hook with stuck and bloody fingers, starting off with a cane pole and graduating to a rod and reel, sitting on an upside-down 5 gallon bucket, and getting caught in the trees more times than I'd like to admit. ​ He cultivated a love for the outdoors in me at a young age, and I still enjoy fishing today.

​My Nana's parents, who we called Pap and Granny Honey, also loved to fish.  They decided to make use of a low spot behind their house and have a small pond dug.  This turned out to be perfect for us kids, since Nana and Papa lived right next door!  I remember thinking how magical and mysterious this small wooded pond was--never knowing what I'd pull out of that dark water.

From an early age, I remember loving the taste of fried fish.  Our family usually gathered over a "fish fry" to celebrate birthdays, holidays and other special occasions.  With such a large family to feed, this was one cost-effective way to please the crowd.  Papa would fish for weekends, freezing his bounty, saving up for the big day.  He and Nana would stand over the bubbling grease, waiting for the hushpuppies to float.  Served alongside grits, homemade french fries, and slaw, it was a feast.  He would stand in line with us kids, telling us what each piece was and what he thought we might like best.  Then my mom or Nana would help us diligently pick it off of the bones to ensure we didn't accidentally swallow one and ruin the night.  I'd sit barefoot at the table with my legs crisscrossed feeling like I was in heaven.

​There was a period of time that I spent every Friday night with my grandparents.  They, along with about 10 other couples, would gather at the cabin to hold a weekly fish fry.  The men would spend their week catching as many fish as they could just so they would have an excuse to get together for supper.  The women would bring in their specialties, whether it be a side or dessert, as their contribution.  I remember sitting at a table, surrounded by "old women" talking about "old men", while the men gathered in the kitchen to chit chat and heat the grease.  I didn't care that I was the only kid there--I got to eat my favorite meal and go home with my favorite people.       

When my Papa got sick, I reflected on what it was about him that I admire and would miss so much.  I decided that if I could marry someone that was half of the man he was, I would be happy.  Little did I know that Phillip would come calling, and I would find him, too, honest, trustworthy, dedicated, patient, kind, hardworking, simple, and loving.  The funny thing is, Phillip is also a carpenter (like my Papa), and he too loves to fish.  

Phillip's family has a deep love for fishing as well, and "fish frys" are a common occurrence around their house.  Needless to say, I fit right in.  ​

​Fried catfish and bream may seem like a poor man's dinner to some, but let me tell you, it's a feast fit for a king.  I love the feeling of nostalgia and flood of memories that hot, greasy fish and homemade french fries bring.  You know the old saying, "Give a man a fish, feed him for a day.  Teach a man to fish, feed him for a lifetime."?  It is easy to believe that if I had only eaten a plate of fish at family get-togethers, rather than investing in the experience of fishing as a child, I wouldn't feel the way I do today.  Good thing my Papa taught us to fish, because it did more than feed us for a lifetime.  

​If fried fish is new to you, but you'd like to give it a try, take home the Deep South cookbook!  It showcases traditional Southern meals, like fried catfish with hush puppies and tartar sauce.  Yum!

And in case you didn't know, lemon pie is a must when fish is on the menu.  If you don't have a recipe of your own that you love, try out our Southern Pies cookbook!

​Last week, we lost my sweet, 91-year-old grandmother. Many of you have heard me mention my grandmother as she and my grandfather had an enormous impact on my life. 

I am so blessed to have had a childhood full of so many wonderful memories, especially of time spent with my Grandparents.  Though we lived 12 hours away from them, Wayne and Helen Bloomingburg had an unbelievable way of being involved in our lives and making sure we (both me and my younger brother Troy) knew how much we were loved.  

Grandma and Grandpa were hard-working folks that always put God and family first, and they raised their children to do the same. It is hard to talk about my grandmother without also talking about my grandfather.  They were the most faithful and selfless people I have ever known.  Even though we lived so far away, there was never a doubt that grandma and grandpa were in our corner.

The summer before my senior year in high school, I decided to live with my grandparents and get a summer job.  My grandmother landed me a great job with a friend who was a real estate attorney.  I spent five summers with my grandparents, working in the attorney’s office and exploring the city.  (As much as I was allowed to - Grandpa liked to keep me close!) Oh, how I have cherished the time that I was able to spend with them in the summers.  Grandma would tell marvelous stories of growing up in Selma, Alabama, what it was like to lose her mother at a young age, and how much she loved her “daddy”.  I didn’t fully appreciate these experiences at the time, but I wouldn’t trade anything in the world for the summers that I spent with my grandparents.
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After her move to Florida, I was so happy to have her close and to be able to spend more time with her. She loved telling everyone in her assisted living village that I was her granddaughter, and she was so proud to have me every time I came.  I never got tired of her calling me “sweetie” or telling me what a “doll” I was.  Even after her stroke she would love to visit and talk about her childhood and memories of her youth.  She never stopped being concerned about me, never stopped being my comforter, and never stopped being my grandma.  When the words wouldn’t come, her pretty blue eyes and sweet smile still told me all I needed to know. 

​And now, as I have lost my last grandparent, it is such a bittersweet feeling of growing older.  In a way, I feel like not only have I lost Grandma, but I feel like I have lost Grandpa all over again. I know that Grandma is so much happier now, to be with Jesus and Grandpa and her “mama” and “daddy”.  I count myself so lucky to have been so loved by those two special people.  I have so many friends that didn’t have that same experience.  They don’t have parents and grandparents that will drop anything to do anything for their family.  Just last week Grandma's care giver in the nursing home told me she had never known a family like ours, so full of love for each other and so many of us concerned about grandma. I told her that it was all because of “her” as I pointed to my grandmother with tears in my eyes. My family is truly lucky to have been led and loved by Helen and Wayne Bloomingburg, and I am forever grateful for their presence in my life and the legacy they have left behind in their family.

In honor and in memory of my Grandmother, I am reposting two blog posts I wrote about my grandparents in years past. When cleaning out my grandmothers' apartment, we found that she had a folder for each grandchild in her filing cabinet, each one filled with mementos and cards from over the years. My folder, amongst other things, held a copy of each blog post that I had sent her in the mail. On the outside of the papers she had written, “keep forever”. I am so glad that I took the time to share with her how I felt about her while she was living. I already miss her so much it hurts, but am rejoicing that she is at peace and with her Heavenly Father. 

My Grandparents​

​I am so blessed to have had a childhood full of so many wonderful memories, especially of time spent with my Grandparents.  Though we lived 12 hours away from them, Wayne and Helen Bloomingburg had an unbelievable way of being involved in our lives and making sure we (both me and my younger brother Troy) knew how much we were loved.  We were able to make the trip to Arlington, Virginia every summer and every other Christmas to pay them a visit.

My Grandparent's House

​I am flooded today with memories of my grandparents’ house.  As a kid it was a magical place that we were only lucky enough to visit on summer vacations and every other Christmas.  It was not a huge house, a modest Sears and Roebuck home built in 1938, just on the outskirts of Washington D.C.  My grandfather and his family moved in to the house when he was 14.  In turn, my grandfather later bought the house from his father, and my mother moved into the house when she was 14.  The house was a happy home to the same family for its entire life.  It saw many a Thanksgiving Dinner, Christmas Morning and visiting relative.  Some of the happiest moments of my childhood were spent there.

Last year, I shared with you all my worries about being pregnant again so long after my first two boys and at such “advanced maternal age” in my blog, Pregnancy Worries. I’m happy to finally announce that Perry Jacob Paulk made his appearance on June 12, 2018! I know it’s a bit late to make it an announcement, but we’ve had our hands full ever since he arrived! 

It seems so simple, yet why aren't we doing it?  Why isn't The Church being the village?  There are so many other practical ways to step in and be a champion for the cause, rather than participating in a march or holding up a sign.

"We must listen, love, foster, adopt, give money, babysit, donate supplies, mentor young women, and support in whatever ways God has equipped us."

I say, if we can't take care of the orphans that are living on this earth now, what shall we do? When there are over 30,000 abortions taking place in Georgia each year, what shall we do?  If we can't find foster homes to house the children who are a result of addiction and abuse, what shall we do?  Why are there over 170 children in foster care and only 10 foster families in my region?  Why do Christians outnumber orphans 15 to 1? 

Phillip and I have officially been foster parents for three months now.  As I type these words, tears fall from my eyes.  No amount of preparation, training, volunteering, or even praying, opened my eyes to the reality of raising a child that is not your own.  Responsibility, consistency, patience, kindness, understanding, strength, faith, selflessness, devotion...these are all words describing what must pour out of us daily.  We knew it would be challenging, and it is.  But we also never could have imagined the joy a child brings when they simply bring themselves.  ​

Though this was somewhat of a surprise, we are anxiously awaiting her arrival.  What we wish for her is what we wish for every child that enters our home; that they will choose to work hard for what they want, love people whole-heartedly, live selflessly, stand up for what they believe in, and be brave.  We have been blessed with what I believe to be the best village around--and I am overjoyed that we get to raise this child surrounded by such wonderful people.  

So, thank you to my village.  You'll never know how much it means to us to know how much you care.  We couldn't do it without you!  ​

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If you find yourself looking for ways to serve, reach out to us!  We have been blessed to be involved with a wonderful organization in South Georgia that supports foster families and birth families alike.  We'd love to talk with you, and provide you with
​information and opportunities to serve.  

Pick out something special for your own little or for a friend from our online store! Maileg Bunnies are some of our favorites additions to any nursery are treasured for many childhood years to come.

Such simple words, but so powerful. I’m wiping tears even now as I recall trying to sing along that morning. I was emotional then, but could still sing until we began the second verse:​

    “How sweet to hold a newborn baby,
    and feel the pride and joy he gives.
    But, greater still, the calm assurance,
    this child can face uncertain days, because He lives!”

We are so excited to have our dear Katelyn back with us!  We are so in love with this little girl they've brought into the world, and are so blessed to be a part of this family's life.  We thought that our readers might want to share in the excitement with us, so here is Katelyn's latest blog post about sweet Lainey Kate.

​They say time flies when you're having fun -- but it zooms by like a rocket when you're having the best time of your life thus far and also running on little sleep! It's hard to believe it's already been 6 weeks since we first met our sweet Lainey Kate, and what a wonderful 6 weeks it has been! Jake and I are loving this season of new beginnings. In less than 5 years we've both been new to South Georgia, new jobs, newlyweds, welcomed a newborn that made us new parents, and plans to soon plant new roots and make South Georgia, officially, our new home. Whew! 

I was truly blessed growing up to be a part of a family that traveled.  Since my parents were both school teachers, we had plenty of time in the summer to pack up and hit the road!  Keep in mind, my parents were school teachers, so these were not glamourous vactations full of ski trips, water parks, restaraunts and hotels.  Our road trips consisted of tent camping (thank you K.O.A.), dinners from the cooler (a.k.a. cooler crud) and finding all the cool stops along the way that were free or cheap!  ​While our trips may have been a strain on the family budget, they were full of fun and happy memories (somehow you forget the stressful times when it is over).  My brother and I were really lucky to have gotten to see so much of the United States of America!

From Mt. Rushmore, Devil's Tower, and The Grand Canyon, to a tour up the west coast of California, Oregon, and Washington.  We visited the world's deepest hand-dug well in Greensburg, Kansas, Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico, an Indian Pueblo in Taos, New Mexico, and the cliff dwellings in Mesa Verde, Colorado. 

​Every once in a while, usually in the fall, we got to go to places like Disney World and Sea World!

Of course, as a teenager these trips got a little embarrassing.  We were getting the car serviced in California on one of our trips, and I realized that my dad was wearing a tie-dyed tank top, shorts, fanny pack, and Mickey Mouse socks with sandals.  We were quite a sight!

​Y'all, this blog would be too long if I named all of the fun places my family traveled over the years!  We usually landed in Colorado for a week or so somewhere along the way to visit with my grandparents and play in the mountains we all still love so much!

Being able to travel and see so much of our beautiful country did so much to help shape who I am today.  I am a southern girl at heart, but I am sure you can tell by touring my home and reading my other posts that my style and personality has been heavily influenced by sights and experiences I was exposed to on our journeys!  What a priceless treasure, to have been able to soak up different cultures, styles, people, and landscapes.  Thanks to my adventurous parents for being willing to load us up and be away from home for weeks at a time.  Your kids are better people for it!

In honor of all of these nostalgic feelings this summer, Tara, Jorj and I thought it would be fun to spread the southern love across the whole country!  During the month of July we want to get a new Facebook "like" from at least one person in every state!  So, if you are reading this, and you don't already follow us on Facebook, head on over and like our page!  If you are a Facebook fan already, we hope you'll tag a friend from a far away place and help us reach our goal!  

​If you are heading out on a road trip of your own this summer, we hope you have safe and happy travels!  Share a picture with us along the way!
​-Roxie

I grew up in a small town. Scratch that. I grew up in a rural community outside of a small town. Next door to my grandparents’ farm and within a mile of the county line, I was the first one on the school bus every morning and the last one off every afternoon. Keep in mind, we have one elementary school, while the middle and high schools share a campus, for the entire county! ​

The following spring (2002), Chris’s family farm was featured on a Food Network show called “Food Finds.” If you’ve read my blog “Muscadines, Grandma, and a Husband,” you’ll know that his family grows muscadine grapes. Chris’s grandfather, father, and uncle were interviewed for the show, which focused on the capsules “Papa Jacob” was making from the seeds of the muscadines and the health benefits they offered. At the time, he was making them by hand in his home office. I remember watching the show in our little apartment with one of our friends from Ocilla who also lived in Atlanta. Afterward, we all just giggled and stared at each other, amazed and bewildered at what we had just seen on TV!