intentionally grateful

It's too easy to find things to complain about. Therefore, I often have to be intentional about gratitude - finding something small or big to recognize and say "yeah, that's pretty cool."

So here goes: Last night my son had a huge blister on his upper lip that we were afraid was turning into a massive cold sore. We put him to bed on time and didn't do anything (it didn't seem like there was anything we could do). As we do every night, we went in together to bid him a final goodnight while he was sleeping. Together, we each laid a hand on him and whispered a prayer for Jesus to heal him. This morning, no blister. No evidence of a blister. Just a healthy, happy, smiling baby standing up in his crib! Oh, guess it's time to take down the crib mobile...

Thank you, Jesus, for reminding me to include you in the little things as well as the big things. I am a grateful gal.

joyful exhaustion, or being mindful of today

Holiday Season 2012 has officially folded, and ushered in 2013. It has been one mind-blowing year. 

I gave birth to our one (and probably only) child. Changed jobs (at the same company). Learned the ropes of daycare, weaning, and multitasking like I've never done before in my life. Embraced many visiting relatives (and went to visit some over Christmas). And generally tried to figure out what life as a wife and mother looks like. 

Honestly, Christmas was an exhausting blur. We flew to Texas and stayed with DH's brother, SIL, and niece. We visited with them plus our son's grandmother, grandfather and step-grandmother. We made some new food discoveries, too: Turns out he loves stewed meat and veggies (the real thing), hates baby food unless it's fruity, and really loves chomping down dried seaweed snacks. Seriously - you must try this on your babe sometime. It's super healthy. I can give him a small sheet to take apart, though it's a bit tidier if I break it up into 1-inch chunks. He also enjoys whole wheat sandwiches filled with cheese or cream cheese. Plus, he's finally mastered the sippy cup.

Sure, it was cool watching my 10-month old son and his 3-year old cousin interact, but we also spent more of our time managing him instead of visiting like I had hoped (not sure what I was thinking there). And my SIL spent most of her time in the kitchen cooking, while my BIL was working 2 of the 4 days we were there. Also got our first taste of traveling with the boy, which even though it wasn’t horrible it was certainly challenging in its own way. We came back with the boy sick with a big cold and DH coming down with bronchitis. Fun. 

We did manage to get out for a few hours yesterday evening to join friends for dinner – other than that it was the three of us. Together. For almost two weeks. With a baby that suddenly crawls 100 mph, refuses to nap properly and entertain himself, and is recovering from a nasty cold. I was ready to pull my hair out.

DH and I talked about how incredibly exhausting it is right now, with our son so full of energy and getting into everything we don't want him to get into about every 45 seconds. And he's starting to prop himself up on his feet, which means walking (and running away from us) isn't far behind. 

If I sound like I'm complaining, well... partly. But I'm also excited to see him approach the next big milestone, and he's really happy and full of energy every day - even when he's clearly not feeling well. He's just a good baby who loves people, eats well and usually sleeps very well. 

If I'm honest, though, I have to admit that I think my current level of exhaustion has a lot to do with my age and only some to do with the challenges of my son's age. It's making me wonder how other 40-plus new moms deal with this. Energy - this kind of energy - doesn't come in a can. Ya gotta dig deep! 

As much as I have tried to focus on the birth of our Saviour - and I have - I've also had really big things in front of me that demanded my attention. Oh well. Such is the life.

I literally pray for supernatural strength on a regular basis, and I marvel at how I am doing as well as I am! God is good and faithful, and I know he didn't lead me to this just to watch me collapse into a state of mental mush. 

2013 will be another transforming year: my son will become a toddler, we'll probably travel again (with some hard-learned lessons under our belt), and Christmas will be even more wondrous because he'll be able to appreciate what's going on.

In the meantime, I have to remind myself to embrace today. Right now, my son is a baby who needs my direction as he figures out how his body works and discovers everything in the world around him. Right now, he drinks formula four times a day and isn't ready for a lot of solid food beyond the easily-mushable stuff. Right now, he's crawling and just starting to stand well. 

Right now is happening right now. Don't miss it.

i refuse to become a victim of fear

I had the flu last Friday, and had been up sick most of Thursday night. My mother advised me to sleep and not turn on the TV. Unquestioningly, I obliged. It wasn’t until late that afternoon, when I was on Fac.ebo.ok and saw everyone’s posts, that I learned what had happened. I have periodically wept quietly in little moments since then – in the car, in the shower, at my desk – anytime I was alone with my thoughts long enough to let the awful hideousness of the situation enter my mind. I refused to watch the news or even read blog entries talking about it.

It wasn’t until this morning, with my son at daycare and husband at work, that I was finally alone long enough to pour out my rage and grief to God. I thought, I need to know.

I need to know that I’m not raising my son, only to have him cut down mercilessly by the devil, who “…prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.” 1 Peter 5:8

I need to know that no matter how long I enjoy life with my child here on earth, we will live out eternity in Heaven.

I need to know peace.

As if in answer to this silent request, my daily devotional yesterday reminded me that there is, of course, a bigger picture.

Proverbs 24:14 (NIV)

Know also that wisdom is like honey for you:

    If you find it, there is a future hope for you,

    and your hope will not be cut off.

The Bible – especially Proverbs – is very clear that wisdom is the most important possession any of us can acquire in this life. Not money, not a wonderful relationship, nothing else replaces wisdom. And true wisdom comes only from God.

Right now a fresh battle is being waged in the war over gun control. Let me be among those who remind us that, even if consensus is reached, the government cannot give us peace. Government ultimately cannot save us or give us hope. It’s not in their power.

Not all things are knowable, but hope is the hallmark of a life of faith in God – and is exactly what the enemy wants to rob us all of. The devil wants to replace hope with fear and despair. That’s why we have to be wise to his tricks and refuse to give in, continue to look to God for wisdom, and allow His love to cover our fears, infuse us with peace, and give us the hope that only He can.

God honors prayer. Pray for the families who now must cross oceans of grief. Pray for the safety of our public (and private) spaces. Pray for those who might become the next random victims. Pray for the minds and hearts of those who might become the next perpetrators. Pray for the chains of the enemy to be broken. And refuse to become a victim of fear.

John 14:27 (NIV)

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

baby food wars already?

I tried to feed my son some ground up beef stew. His reaction, if I interpret correctly, was "This is horrible!! Why are you trying to kill me?? I'm a good boy! You hate me and I'm going to diiiiiiie!..." or something like that. Sigh...

Granted, he's been battling a tummy bug since Saturday (though he's never been sick enough to take to the doctor), his sleep has been out of whack lately, and his appetite is about as predictable as Wall Street. I'm finally conceding the fact that he's regressed to an itty bitty baby that can't handle more than the most basic of food choices. Why does it get under my skin when he won't eat what I've prepared for him? I need to not take that personally. 

Meanwhile, said itty bitty baby was up at 2:30 or so this morning and, after listening to him cough and squawk for an hour DH went in to comfort him. I followed soon after and elevated his mattress on one side to help promote draining. Fed him a bottle since he'd only taken about half an ounce before bed (which he gobbled up hungrily), which sent him happily back to sleep. Sometime before dawn, I dreamed I was very good friends with Brittney Spears. 

I need more coffee now. 

trash bins and ivf clinics

I turned the local news on yesterday morning. Probably shouldn't have done that. One of the stories they ran was of someone finding a newborn (alive, thank God) in a trash bin outside an apartment complex.

Meanwhile, in infertility clinics all over the developed world, thousands upon thousands of women and men are crying, waiting, testing, and spending tens of thousands of dollars on treatments - absolutely desperate to conceive a baby.

Just what the f*ck is wrong with people?

Reason #367 why I cannot watch the news anymore.

Sigh... end rant. "A person's a person, no matter how small." ~ Horton the Elephant

more food obsessions

I think I’ve made some progress in feeding since my last post (for the love of food). The hungry bugger is chomping away at half a banana (which works wonders at keeping blowouts at bay), some kind of cereal, yogurt or pureed cottage cheese (plain or mixed with fruit, which I’m now trying to give in chunky bits – plus he can’t stand the texture of cottage cheese), some kind of veggie mush mixed with minced chicken (or whatever’s in the nearest non-fruit pouch), plus the regular four bottles per day. He also enjoys fish, mashed potato, squash, sweet potato, fries, tomato soup, beef, and probably some other stuff I’ve forgotten about. 

The whole-food weaning thing has been a mixed bag at best, so I’ve chosen not to worry about it. He’s great at eating banana right off the… banana (without me breaking off pieces), enjoys chomping on cooked mini carrot sticks and other little finger-sized foods. So I’m probably ahead of the game.

The only thing that has me flummoxed is the idea of transitioning him from the bottle to the cup. He doesn’t seem to care about sippy cups, and drinks out of a cup fine if someone holds it for him. Oh well. One transition at a time.

Now if we can just figure out how to get him to quit rocking back and forth in his high chair as if he expects it to start rolling like a shopping cart.

fear of flying

I’m not sure why, but I’m dreading our upcoming flight to Dallas for Christmas.

Okay, I might know a few reasons beginning with my past experiences witnessing others flying with babies. They are mostly not positive ones with wailing children and their horrified, exhausted parents who are the first to board, take the longest to get settled, and are the last to drag themselves out of the plane like haggard old pirates emerging from a dark cave that never found the hidden treasure. I avoided them as much as possible before I became a parent. Now I’m about to become one of them.

So there’s that. And, since I’ve worked so hard at establishing and maintaining my sweet son’s sleep schedule, I’m sure this trip will blow it out of the water. What with relatives, airplanes, security, big liquid containers, a makeshift crib-type bed in the same room as us along with a white noise machine, relatives, visiting and eating and drinking and sleeping… and relatives. What could go wrong? (insert hysterical, buggy-eyed, strait-jacketed laughter)

I think the babe will be wide-eyed with joyous wonder at the airport and on the airplane, since he’s such a social bee and loves people so much. On the advice of my sister in law, I booked our flights near his naptime in the hopes that he’ll comply and nap on the plane. No, it’s not the worst thing that could happen if he doesn’t sleep. But the minute we land he’ll be on his tippy toes playing with Grandma and being loved, cuddled, and pampered as any baby should be – which will be wonderful as long as I can get him down at a reasonable time.

The makeshift sleeping arrangements have me wondering which I’d rather pack – Benadryl (for him) or earplugs (for me)? I’ve been looking at those travel cribs (not the recalled ones) and wondering if that’s the way to go – mostly because we’re planning at least one more flight before he turns 2. Or maybe it's not worth it, and I don't give my baby credit for being adaptable.

To allay my fears, I’ve started trolling baby travel websites to see what I can do to prepare and avoid the worst. Now that I’m feeling a bit more mentally prepared, I’m fairly confident we can ride it out and I’m probably making it worse in my head. 

Probably.

Then again, maybe he won’t sleep on the plane, won’t settle in a foreign house, will be overstimulated by relatives, and will be cranky as hell which means we sure as hell won’t get any sleep for the four nights we’ll be there which will pretty much mean the end of all sanity.

Probably.