Photobooth

Just for fun, we did this at the mall today and I thought I would share.

Who says you shouldn't eat spaghetti on a first date?

Photo: Twirling, shmirling; go for two hands! (2007)

Good times...

What could be more fun than your daughter throwing up in her carseat, two separate times, due to coughing?

Oh, yeah..Spending two hours in the local children's hospital ER and getting home after midnight because your daughter needs more powerful breathing treatment than you can give her at home.

Throw in a healthy fear of nurses, doctors, respiratory specialists and all other hospital employees, uncontrollable sobbing off and on for an hour and a half, and you have yourself a REAL party.

It was so much fun, I felt left out that I'm the only one in the family without asthma...

Oh, BOY!

Friends, I think I’m in trouble.

Signs you may be in for a wild ride
1) Even during birth, your daughter wants to assert her independence and her opinion. (example: Every time the doctor tried to turn me to help labor progress, my daughter’s heart rate dropped and I had to go on oxygen.)

2) As soon as your daughter can stand, every time she holds onto a pole for support...she dances.

3) Your daughter likes to climb onto tables...and, you guessed it, dance. Or just jump up and down.

4) Your daughter seems to have no fear. (example: that little video in my previous post cuts off because as soon as she reaches the top, she jumps...sometimes toward you...sometimes not)

5) Your daughter becomes fixated on a cute, older (by five years!) boy (whom she called “Boy” all evening) and ended up doing this:

So, I ask you; how do you think she’s going to turn out?
:)

Photo: M and "Boy" (2007)

Dandy-Lines *updated with video*

Well, it seems that dandelions have not only launched an assault on my yard, but they are pervasive in the blog-o-sphere right now: Craver’s busy trying to annihilate them, Charity’s reflecting on them and LL is eating them. As I stare out at the new crop peeping up out of the grass in my neighbor’s lawn (the other neighbor recently sent her son over to mow their lawn because it looked so bad, and they’re trying to sell their house), I thought I would join in the ode to dandelions with my own posting.

Over the last couple weeks in our house, here have been a few of my favorite lines - they’re real dandys…

Take Jesus out of your mouth right now.
We don’t eat flamingoes in our house.
Markers are for coloring, not for eating.
Don’t put your face in that puddle! Yucky!
Honey, why are you lying face down in the sand?
You have to say, “Catch, mama” before you jump, not afterwards.
Did she just climb out the back window and on top of her car by herself?

note: for some reason the video hangs up at 4 seconds. so as soon the video starts, advance that little slider below the movie to 5 seconds and you're good.

Any good ones to add?

Supermomitis

The past couple weeks I’ve really struggled with a case of supermomitis. You know what I mean, right? The feeling like I have to be an amazing mom who does arts and crafts with my daughter, doesn’t let her watch too much tv, teaches her the alphabet and her numbers, cooks all our meals, does laundry, doesn’t leave clean laundry on the couch for more than a day waiting to be folded, ensures everything in the house is in its rightful place, ensures everything in the house even has a rightful place, does the dishes, plays with the dog, arranges play dates, keeps up with the grocery shopping, takes a shower, spends quality time with her husband, gets birthday cards and mother’s day cards in the mail on time, speaks to her friends and maybe, just maybe has a spare minute or two to read a book or write a blog. And I just can’t do it all. If I stay on top of keeping up with the house, then I do that at the expense of my daughter (either giving her my undivided attention or letting her watch TV). The advice or comments I have recently received have come from people who do not have kids or do not have toddlers. I mean, really, when their kids were little could they keep an immaculate house?

The truth is, I want my house to be a little more orderly. I’m already on a rampage to clean stuff out (whenever I can find some spare time…) and make better use of our space. But I’m trying to figure out how much of my stress is due to this mythological supermom and how much of it I can actually do something about.

So I’m looking for comments here. What are your thoughts or advice? How do you maintain an orderly house? How do you combat the idea of the supermom (or do you even ever struggle with it?)?

The Puke-Mobile

I've had to deal with people throwing up three times today.

1) My husband started feeling nauseated on the way to work (I dropped him off today because his car was being fixed). Literally, about a mile away, he asked me to pull over. He puked his guts out on the side of the road, and then fortunately felt much better. We now think it was due to taking some medicine on an empty stomach.

2) On the way home from the grocery store, my daughter gagged on a piece of cheese. Up came breakfast, a glass of milk, and, of course, the cheese. I had to pull over (again!), clean it up as best I could, make it home and then remove the carseat cover and straps to wash them. Oh, so pleasant.

3) Just after we walked in the door from spending the evening at my in-laws' home, my daughter threw up again all over my husband. I now suspect the cheese incident this morning might not have just been gagging. Yippee.

Is my car just a nausea-mobile today or what? Fortunately, I haven't gotten sick....yet. Maybe I'll turn in early.

Things Spoken

Here are a few things that my daughter is saying right now that I just love:

+Gotch - of course, I wrote a whole blog about that
+Sure - pronounced, shooo-or. M, do you want some milk? Shoooo-or. M, did you have a good time? Shooo-or. M, do you want a spanking? Shoooo-or.
+Sducks - meaning, stuck. Or better yet, I'm stuck, mom, would you quit laughing and get over here to help me?
+Daddy's purse - *points to mom's purse* Mama's purse... *points to dad's messenger bag* Deedee's purse
+ooooh, nooooo! - she says it about many things, but in this cute little high pitched voice, drawing out the oooo's for dramatic effect
+roh-roh, rosie - usually accompanied by taking my hand and telling me to...
+gup - meaning, get up, mom, and play ring around the rosey with me

Good times.

Photo: Yea, stinkin' cute (2007)

Gotch

Recently, my daughter has really begun repeating words that I say, even after the first time hearing them. To my disappointment, though, she has yet to say “I love you” back to me. But I have become very fond of a little ritual we have, and I recently realized it was her way of saying she loves me.

One day a thunderstorm blew through, and in the midst of the flashes of light and loud rumbling, my daughter sought shelter in my arms. As I held her tightly, I reassured her with the phrase, “I got you.” She whispered back, “Gotch” and gave me a squeeze. Now, when she feels scared or when she’s being particularly sweet and cuddly, I often hug her tightly and say “Gotcha” - to which she always responds with a little squeeze and “Gotch.” It melts my heart every time.

When I am afraid - of the future, of the unknown, of how we’re going to live on our budget, of...of...of - I now think about that mental image and picture God holding me in His arms, whispering, “Gotch. You don’t have to be afraid. I am with you, even to the end of the age.”

When I’m discouraged - about life, about relationships, about my ability to be a good wife and mother - I hear God saying, “Gotch. I’ve got a plan for you. I have abundant life for you. I’ve equipped you with everything you need.”

When I’m weary and need a reassurance of His love, He’s there in my ear, “Gotch. Come to me and I will give you rest. Sit with me. Drink deeply. I love you.”

Do you hear Him saying it to you?

Gotch.

Spooky

Something really strange is happening at my house. In fact, if I tell you about it, I’m not even sure you’ll believe me. And I hope it doesn’t give you nightmares or make you afraid to be alone in your house because if it could happen to me...it could happen to you.

Grab your security blanket, ‘cause here goes: I could do every load of laundry waiting for me - I mean, every stitch of clothing - and have it waiting to be folded, still warm from the dryer...and another load (or two!) will magically appear. Isn’t that disturbing?? How in the world does that happen? It’s a spooky mystery to me.

If you find out how to rid my house of these laundry gnomes, please let me know.

I couldn't be a single mom..

I have several blogs floating around in my head right now, but I’m just too tired to organize them into some semblance of a coherent string of words. My husband just returned from a week-long trip, and I am worn out after staying with my daughter. I know, I’m being a weenie – I just have one child…but she is a busy little girl and lately has been a mama’s girl (meaning she constantly demands my attention and is NOT interested in anyone else - except maybe the dog). Halfway through the week I realized that I am not cut out to be a single mother. Quite frankly, I don’t know how they do it…especially when they don’t have the support of family or friends. I just couldn’t do this job and be the least bit effective (and keep my sanity) on my own. Needless to say, I’m thankful my husband is back and maybe tomorrow I’ll write those blogs.

Photo: Say Cheese! (2007)

Top 5 Ways You Know You Spend Most of Your Day with a Toddler

5. You know what time it is based upon what is currently on PBS.
4. You do things with one hand, even when there is no toddler on your hip.
3. You cannot say the name of an animal without immediately making the corresponding noise.
2. You see an unidentifiable, gigantic object on an 18-wheeler, and your first response to your friend's question "What is that thing?" is "Looks like a doghouse for Clifford."
1. You have food and/or snot on your shoulder, and not only do you not really care but you fail to even notice it's there anymore.

Any to add?

Photo: The Bucket Brigade (2007)

Surreal Life

As I rocked my daughter tonight, in the quietness of her room a surreal feeling swept over me. I looked at myself (not physically, this isn’t some out of body experience tale…well, kind of but not really) and I wondered when I became old enough to be the mother of a toddler. Am I really at this point in life? Diapers, station wagons, play dates, toys constantly exploded all over the living room, little girl tugging at my pant leg demanding my attention? It seems like yesterday that I was a high school student and graduating college was a decade away (much less a decade past). Then I thought of my mother. Does she often ponder the same thoughts about her station in life? Does she feel like the years have passed by too quickly and that she’s not old enough yet to be a grandmother? Does it feel slightly odd to her that she watches her daughter mothering a sweet, yet independent little girl just as she did not so long ago? Pondering the passage of time always leaves me somewhat befuddled and overwhelmed. How can this intangible, man-made device pass so quickly and yet so slowly? How is it that time rules us, and yet we created it (and I’d propose, can’t live without it)? How strange is it that things we waited so long to achieve, once attained are overshadowed by the next thing? Life is surreal, at times. I guess that’s part of the mystery.

“For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways”, declares the Lord. Isaiah 55:8

Photo: Tired tornado, 2007

Little Wordsmith

I know every mom thinks they have the smartest, cutest, best kid in the world – and I’m no different. M is at an age where she is constantly learning, and I am amazed. Kids like her truly are little sponges, soaking up everything (including things I don’t even realize).

Just for kicks, we started writing down the words that she consistently and correctly uses. In part, because we wanted to remember the way she calls a “jacket” a “jack jack” or a “slide” a “weeee”. As we recalled the words, our list got longer and longer. I transferred our frantic notes to an excel spreadsheet and to my surprise, she knew over 150 words! Granted, she cannot pronounce every word correctly nor does she use the right word in every case, but they are without a doubt all words to her. She uses the same pronunciation each time and refers to the same object or action with the same word. And those were just the words she uses consistently. She repeats many more words (including dang and crap…whoops!), but I don’t think she has mastery over them yet.

It’s amazing how those little brains work. I’ve listed a few of my favorite words below.
potty = “pah pie”
toothbrush = “teef”
amen = “aaaaaaameh”
where = “weh” (accompanied by her little hands facing palm up)

Photo: M on a cooler, 2007

Protecting Our Children

One of my biggest fears in life is not being able to protect my daughter from harm - physical or emotional. I understand that I cannot possibly protect her from everything (only God can do that), but I still worry about how I would react if something happened to her.

Then, one week ago today, she knocked over a cup of steeping tea and sustained first and second degree burns on her arm and stomach. She wept for over an hour straight. I was horrified and miserable and oh, so sad. But as a result, I have pondered a few things.

1) We always say that Jesus understands what we're going through because he experienced everything we could ever experience (and more) since he became human. I'm not exactly sure where in the Bible it says that. I know it says "No temptation has seized you except what is common to man..." so I do believe he has experienced and overcome every temptation. But I can't find any place in the Bible where it talks about Jesus having a child and experiencing the emotions and fears related to parenting. However, I do know that God the Father has experienced them. He sent his only son to this Earth, knowing that he would be mistreated and unloved; abused, beaten and crucified. Parents want to protect their children from harm, not allow them to go into a situation where we realize harm is inevitable. And yet God the Father allowed it because of his great love for us and his desire for his glory to be made known throughout the earth. I've never really pondered much on the fact that God the Father understands what I fear. I've always just thought about Jesus' sympathy for what I face. Realizing this has brought me a little closer to Him.

2) Mary deserves a medal. I'm not saying I think she deserves an equal spot next to Jesus, but wow! what a woman. Every mother desires that her child is liked and accepted. I can't imagine what it must have been like for her to have a son who was not just disliked, but hated. How hard to have your child be the one discussed as rebellious, sacrilegious and crazy! I imagine the other mothers in town whispered about Mary and tried to decide how much of Jesus's antics were a result of bad parenting. And of course, the ultimate - grieving the inhumane execution of your son as a criminal. God doesn't give us more than we can bear. Mary bore way more than I ever could. I have a new found respect for this often overlooked, under appreciated woman of the Bible.

3) I've gained greater depth into the verse "All things work for the good...". When this verse is often offered in situations, it feels trite and superficial. But in the face of my fear, and the thoughts I was pondering, I realized its truth. Sending my son to live as a human, be rejected by humanity and die a miserable death seems like it could have no positive outcome. Giving birth in a manager to a child who I thought was going to save Israel as a warrior, and yet died the death of a criminal might seem to be hopeless. Sending my daughter into a world where I can't protect her from harm - and where she might even get hurt - seems cruel, scary and unfair. But I can see now how it all brings God glory and it does work for the good of those who love Him.

It's been seven full days and M's wounds are healing beautifully. I am so thankful to God for his faithfulness - to protect my daughter, and to teach me.

Photo: M in her boat, 2006

A Year in Review

I was thinking today about all that has transpired in this past year, and I'm amazed at how long of a year it has been.

A year ago M was just 3 months old, almost sitting up. Now she is running all over the place, climbing on everything.

Then she was just smiling and cooing. Now I love to watch her say "Dance, dance!" as she does her little dance. Or say "Pwane" and point to the sky every time she hears a plane fly overhead. Or say "woof woof" every time (and I mean EVERY time) she hears a dog.

She has always loved the dog, but then she just laughed at her (her first real, big laugh). Now she flops on top of the dog, tries to ride her and loves to feed her.

At the beginning of the year, she hadn't even started reaching for me. Now she gives me the BEST huge hugs and even doles out some kisses. I love that.

For the majority of this year, I had a job. And I was stressed out trying to balance being a mom and having a job and being a wife and...now I have time to actually focus part of my brain. And I have some time to read again.

Earlier in the year I wasn't consistent in writing blogs. Now, I'm really starting to try to focus on my writing.

Then I wasn't sleeping through the night because M wasn't. Now, well, wait, that hasn't really changed.

My husband and I are a lot closer to each other. We've fought more, but we've learned how to be patient with each other, to give up control and to love each other better.

I have new friends that are so dear to me that I didn't really have at the beginning of the year.

I'm in an awesome mentoring relationship, and I wasn't thinking I would be a mentor this year. I'm so grateful for the privilige and am learning so much.

I think I'm a lot closer to God, and have had some revolutionary revelations about my relationship with Him - what I believe He intends for me to focus on, what He has called me to do this next year, and what that looks like when you're a busy mom with a demanding child.

What an amazing year. I am so blessed.

Photos: Baby M, 2005 and Cool Girl, 2006

I took my baby to a bar for Bible study...

Okay, so we weren't really having Bible study at the bar - even though we did have our Systematic Theology books in the car. We were just meeting our Bible study group at the bar to watch the Mavs game (of course!). Which, I'm sure, is already is making you question our Bible study leadership abilities...and we haven't even gotten to the baby in the bar part!

Of course, I questioned whether or not it was a good idea to bring M when the plan was made. Unfortuantely, it was so last minute that I didn't have time to even consider a sitter. (My mother-in-law, who is normally a pinch hitter in these situations, is out of commission due to a recent knee replacement). I convinced myself that it wouldn't be a big deal...it's a smoke-free place, right? Yea, I think so.

We arrived at the bar, and I evaluated the sign. It said "Bar and Grille"...ah, so it's a "Grille", too! That's even better. I still decided to leave the booster chair we had brought in the car just in case. It still seemed a little awkard to walk in with baby and booster chair in tow.
Then the first bad sign. I was carded at the door. I can only imagine what the girl at the door was thinking as I'm digging through the baby's bag of toys and such to find my ID. She finally just waived me through. We found our group sitting at a covered pool table, right in front of the TV. Fortunately, there weren't too many people there yet.

Bad sign number two. Dad just noticed that the people sitting at the table next to us have three packs of cigarettes on their table...and I think there were only two of them. No one is really smoking around us yet. Maybe they see M and are being good "neighbors". Or maybe the game isn't on yet, and neither is their drinking...

We say hello to our group, make jokes about M and her fake ID and decide to order something to eat. I feel a little funny as I pull out M's disposable bib and jar of baby food. Dad holds her and I feed her - and it's going pretty well. I'm well aware of the time and the increasing number of people around us. I hope they just don't really notice this small little person and my questionable parenting skills. I begin to be anxious for our food to arrive. Fortunately, M is having a grand time. She is completely entertained by all of the people around her, laughing and shrieking, just to make sure that anyone who didn't notice her before has been made aware of her presence.

Finally our food arrives. We eat quickly, and I begin to plan my exit. Just as the game begins and the smoke increases, we get out of there. We lived...but I can't say I'll be taking my baby into a bar anytime soon. I'm just hoping I won't look back on this one day and think, "Oh, it all started that time I took her to a bar as a baby..."

Good news for Dads...

Many women have told me that they started losing their memory when they were pregnant, and it only got worse when they actually had kids. I've decided this is, in fact, true and I've used this reasoning to explain many of my forgetful or silly actions since becoming a mother.

However, what is not talked about is that Dads, too, seem to be affected by this brain shrinkage. I'll give you two examples of what I mean (and I did get permission to share!)

Case #1: It's the middle of the night. M wakes up, crying. My husband, being the amazing man that he is, usually takes night duty so I can sleep. I hear her; he doesn't. I nudge him.
"Do you want me to get her this time?"
"No, I've got her"...And he removes the covers like he's going to get up...but he lays there. She cries harder.
"Babe, get up and get her or I'll go."
"Okay, okay. I've got it." And still he lays there. And she cries louder.
...and then he begins to pat his stomach. Pat, pat, pat.
"What are you doing??"
"Oh. Whoops." And he finally gets up.

Case #2: Again, the middle of the night. M wakes up, crying. I'm pretty sure she's hungry because she didn't eat well at dinner time (since she's been sick).
"Do you want me to go get her? She needs to eat."
"No, I've got her." And he gets up out of bed and starts walking toward the door (yea!) But as he reaches the door, he turns around and starts walking back toward me...with his palms facing up and out toward me. Crying continues in the other room.
"What are you doing??"
"Well, she has this pillow that she normally likes, but, here. I'll give her to you now... " At which point he extends his arms out toward me, like he's handing our child over.
Again, "What are you doing??"
"Oh. I dont know."
And the next morning, he had no recollection of this late night occurrence.

So dads, listen up! I have good news for you. You can use the I-lost-part-of-my-brain-through-pregnancy-and-parenthood reason too!

Sickness that comes with parenthood...

27 charged in child porn sting
Web site containing live 'molestation on demand' shut down

That's the headline on CNN right now. When I heard about this story on the news earlier, it literally made me sick to my stomach. I know before I was a parent, stories like this bothered me - but now that I have a sweet daughter of my own, this goes right to my core. I am saddened, angered, scared and mostly sick. I can't even begin to imagine how being a partaker in this kind of activity brings any sort of pleasure or satisfaction. In fact, I can't even think any more about it.
It's amazing how stories you hear affect you differently once you become a parent. I watched a few of Oprah's "catch these FBI's most wanted child molestors" shows, and my heart broke. I told my 6 month old daughter to not talk to strangers and even to yell "Stranger Danger" and run away if anyone ever tried to force her to do something she knew wasn't right. We watched Extreme Makeover, Medical Edition..um, I mean Miracle Workers...the other night, and I couldn't even imagine what it must have been like for that sweet couple to watch their son be taken away into the operating room, not knowing if this surgery would paralyze him forever.
What a responsiblity we have, as parents! Yes, it's awesome and I wouldn't trade it for the world - but it's also completely terrifying knowing that there are some things - some wretched, horrible things - that could happen to our children that are beyond our control. I have to entrust God with her everything, and while that's hard sometimes, it's a lot easier than trying to protect her all by myself.

It's all fun and games until someone throws up...

Well, M had her first cold this weekend. Six months and this is the first time she's sick - not so bad. But it still stinks! Actually, we both started getting sick on Friday. Poor thing. We gave her some of that "grape-flavored" Dimetapp (which we later tasted and it is BITTER), and it totally made her gag and throw up. It's amazing how as a parent, I don't really mind. I still scooped her up to comfort her.
And she totally hates having her nose wiped. Micah, man, I sympathize with what you're saying. I'd let her have a snotty nose if it'd keep her from crying...even though it drives me crazy.
All in all, I have to say, she has been a real trooper. In fact, it's made me realize that we really do have a very happy baby. I guess I didn't think of her as a happy baby because the beginning was so...well, fussy. Then recently it seems like everyone has been commenting on what a happy girl she is and what a wonderful smile she has. She does have a huge smile. I kept blowing it off, saying, "Well, sometimes she's happy..." But you know what? I've been paying more attention to it - and she's really happy almost all the time. Now, she's definitely opinionated. She let's you know when she's bored or tired or hungry. I can't really call that unhappy, though. She's actually just communicating.
And that smile..it's so big. She smiles at the funniest things too. Her favorite thing to smile at is unquestionably the dog. She loves to smile at her daddy too. And then there's the random thing like cast iron trivets I have hanging on the wall in our kitchen. I still haven't figured out what's so funny about them.
Anyway...(talk about your stream of consciousness blog!) I think we're on the downhill stretch for getting over our colds, and I think we're gonna make it. Phew!