I’m Back…Maybe

27 05 2010

I decided today to begin blogging again, although I admit this decision might last for about 24 hours.  The decision came from a variety of sources.  First, I’ve been reading a lot of blogs lately in a desperate attempt to avoid work of any sort, especially the domestic type.  As I read those blogs, I continue to think, “Wow, I would really like to chronicle my life like this.”  So, I thought I’d begin chronicling.  Also, Facebook has gotten to me.  I find myself as a friend said ‘thinking in Facebook status’ all day.  I mentally go through dozens of Facebooks statuses throughout the day, but usually only one makes it on my page.  All the other little snipets that I’d like to write are forgotten in the insanity of a normal day.  So, for today at least, I’m blogging again.

I realize blog entries usually have a general focus, but for today, I’m just going to talk about today.  Oh, where to begin…

I ran for the first time today in over a year.  I would have laughed at my sad little attempt, but that would have required me being able to catch my breathe.  Drew piped up from the stroller, “Mommy, what are you doing?!”  He was amazed to be moving at anything faster than a saunter.  The bad news is he will probably now expect me to run all the time.  Nothing like a toddler to hold you accountable.

Once home, I showered while Drew watched the second half of Nemo and Baby A dozed in his swing.  Yes, Drew has a little sibling now.  The last time I posted, Baby A was not even a twinkle in our eye.  Actually, that’s not quite true – we were wanting another, but were struggling.  But that’s for another post.  Baby A’s birth is for another post too.  Man, I need to keep blogging – I have way too much to write about.

In the shower, I once again lost the equivalent of a long-haired chihuahua from my locks.  I am hoping this postpartum hair loss ends soon before I have to opt for extreme measures.  Once out of the shower I chose a skirt and tank top rather than my usual sad t-shirt and gym shorts.  I had worked out; I was feeling good.  And I thought it would be nice to look attractive decent when Dr. Daddy arrived home.  I tried to ignore the bulge I saw in the mirror.  Oh, that wretched bulge!  You’d think I was pregnant again –

Sadly, the outfit only lasted an hour or so.  Baby A hit me with poop soup, and I was forced to don the sad t-shirt and gym shorts again.

I spent much of my afternoon playing with the boys.  They are so much fun.  Even though Baby A is only four months old, Drew loves playing with him.  And Baby A is fascinated with Drew.  It’s an amazing phenomenon to watch.  I should have been working instead of playing, but I am so over work.  Work is always there.  My boys won’t always be here.  I cannot even handle that thought…

This post is so dull and boring.  It sounded much wittier earlier this afternoon when I mentally wrote it.  At that time, I still had some caffeine running through my veins.  But now, the clock has just crossed over 10 pm, and if I don’t hit the sack, I will not be functioning tomorrow.  For today, I’m back.  I hope to see you tomorrow –





Things I learned this week

26 04 2009

Things I learned this week:

1.  Eating only almonds during South Beach Diet, phase one is not at all effective.

2.  Pointing fingers during an argument always makes the situation worse.

3.  When living with a toddler – the real mess is always being created while the decoy mess is being cleaned up.

4.  Playgrounds in South Florida in April can be dangerously hot by 10:30 AM

5.  Change poopey diapers immediately

6.  Watching temper tantrums from an undisclosed location can be more entertaining than a blockbuster film.

7.  Hope deferred makes the heart sick – Proverbs 12:13

8.  Our future hope should place us in submission to the will of God.

9.  I have the best husband in the world.

10.  I don’t tell my husband that he is the best often enough.

11.  The five second rule cannot apply to my kitchen floor in its current condition.

12.  Fire ants are bad and should all die.

13.  A hard day’s work that is dreaded beforehand can be very fulfilling afterwards.

14.   My son thinks his name is baby. (We are now working to correct this)

15.  A few intimate, quiet moments with my family can wash away a week’s worth of hardship.





The Darling of Heaven

13 04 2009

The last time I remember singing the song “Worthy is the Lamb” was at a church service when I was over nine months pregnant.  At the time, I only knew Drew as an alien being who did consecutive somersaults when I ate chocolate and who daily practiced punting my bladder.  While singing this song, however, one aspect of my parental relationship suddenly became absolutely clear.  The chorus of the song begins with the words “Worthy is the Lamb, Seated on the Throne…”  and it resolves with the line “The Darling of Heaven was crucified – Worthy is the Lamb”.  I remember distinctly belting out the first few words passionately with as much breathe as I could muster from my pregnant lungs.  But as I began the final line, my hands resting on my swelling stomach, I had to halt quite abruptly.  “The Darling of heaven crucified…” – that thought echoed over and over.  The darling son of God was crucified by God’s own choice.   I choked on the words and the sudden spiritual reality that God the Father had given his one and only son overwhelmed me.  My tears fell uncontrollably over the bump that was my baby.   Sacrificing His only son – what had God been thinking??  Feigning fatigue and not wanting to sing anymore, I quickly sat down…

This Easter morning at church, we sang “Worthy is the Lamb” again.  And I was again reminded of the absurd love of the Father God.  My entire maternal being revolts at the thought, yet at the same time, I stand in stupified awe.  Over the course of my single life I’ve had a few moments that I have naively claimed as “Abraham and Isaac” moments.  Times when God called me to sacrifice the thing I most loved or most wanted for His Glory, and on several occasions (including my relationship to Dr. Daddy) God has provided the ram in the bushes and given me the things I love back with an even a greater love for Him.  Since Drew was born, however, I’ve realized how far off I was to ever consider those as Abraham/Isaac moments – none of those circumstances ever required me to sacrifice my son – to give him up or to watch him suffer.  How did Abraham do it?  How did God do it?  My ferocious maternal love that wants to throttle the kid who pushes Drew down at the playground seems a force too strong to ever sit by and watch my son suffer and die.  But I guess that just exaggerates the greatest paradox of the Greatest Love of all.  I cannot fathom it.

Oh the Wonderful Cross, O the Wonderful Cross

Bids me come and die to find that I might truly live.

Happy Resurrection Day!





My Royal Throne and Sanctuary

23 07 2008

One of my favorite moments of the day is when I lay my sleepy little monster down, pat his head, close the door, sigh a peaceful sigh…and head to my bathroom.  Oh, the joy of being able to use the facilities at my own pace, in peace and quiet without fear of finding trauma or destruction when I do finally emerge.  The stress of the day melts away as the “great throne” supports my weary body.  I find all the time in the world to do luxurious things like brush my teeth, wash my face, and ignore the fact that the bathroom needs to be cleaned again.  Ahh, the after-baby-hours in the bathroom – what bliss! 😉





Why…

6 07 2008

Why is it that when I put Drew to bed at 7pm he will automatically sleep through until 7am, but if I put him to bed at 7:30pm, he will wake up at 6:30am?  Just something I was wondering…at 6:32am this morning…





My Own Worst Enemy

26 03 2008

For all the wallowing I do about sleep deprivation on this blog, I realized at 4am one night last week that I am my own worst enemy. Drew is not sleeping through the night yet – he has still been waking once at four to eat. However, after getting through several sporadic teething bouts (he’s got four on top now and four on the bottom…), I thought it might be time to start helping him make it through the entire night. So, I tried once. I think it was Thursday – he woke at 4am, I went in, pacified him, he fussed a bit and in a few minutes went back to sleep. I went back to bed and cried. I am my own worst enemy because I don’t want to give up the 4 am feedings. And that night when Drew woke an hour later, I quickly went in to feed him.

At 4 am, everything is quiet, there are no distractions, and my normally energetic, slight-of-attention-span little boy wants nothing else but me. At 4 am, his lanky frame that during the day kicks and squirms nestles magically in my arms as if he were still a perfect part of me. At 4 am, his busy little hands are still except when they reach to rest on my cheek or hug my neck. It disturbs my sleep and only lasts ten minutes or so, but sometimes 4 am is one of the most precious times of my day.

Monday of this week, I looked at my haggard husband over dinner and realized that 4 am was really starting to wear on him too. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get the magical part of it; he only gets the disturbance in his sleep and then has to go and work all day. And then I was reminded that in just a few weeks, Tim and I are leaving Drew with his grandparents for a three day weekend, and they probably won’t appreciate 4 am either. So, yesterday, I tried again. Drew woke a little early at 3:30am, and I pacified him and let him cry. And cry he did…for two whole hours. At 5:30am, I finally decided we’d have to take this whole thing in baby steps, and I broke down and fed him.

This morning, he woke at 5:30am, and has cried for the majority of the last two hours, and so have I. And ironically, I realize that by not being my own worst enemy, I have become my own worst enemy again- I’ve given in to all the voices in my life telling me that ‘that baby should be sleeping through the night’, and I’ve done away with 4am. I have erased a special moment of motherhood that I can never get back again. I know I will probably rejoice once the sleep deprivation is over and the memory of 4 am fades, but for now, I’d give anything if I could just turn back the clock.





Joy in the ordinary

29 01 2008

100_2121.jpgI know that all of Drew’s developmental milestones are normal, but I have to confess, Tim and I are enamored and obsessed with them. Maybe by the second or third child, the wonder will wear off, but it’s hard for me to imagine how all of these things could ever become just ‘par for the course’. How could it be just ordinary when he grabs at us to explore our faces with his chubby little hands? Or when he squeals with delight when we blow raspberries on his belly? Will I ever stop being excited when I hear him saying “mamamamamama”, even though I know he’s not really referencing me just yet? I can’t imagine being blase when he throws his arms around my neck and holds on so tight because he doesn’t want to go to bed at night. And the smile and giggle I get when I look in on him in the morning – I feel like I could replay them for the rest of my life and never tire of it. It’s hard because I can often see the glazed over look in friends eyes when we start to talk about the new and ‘exciting’ things Drew is doing, and I think, “Oh no! We’ve become THOSE people…the ones that bore everyone with constant stories about their genius child.” But, unfortunately, we seem to be unable to help ourselves. Drew is a wonder – and everything about him is perfectly miraculous.