May Your Christmas Be Bright...

The carousel at the Christmas Train.

Bundled up with my girly.

In front of the train...

I just want to say Merry Christmas. I love this time of year. Ben and I packed up the kiddos and drove over to the Christmas train. The trip was supposed to take an hour and fifteen minutes, but it took almost double that for us to get there... I don't want to name names (mostly because it's my name), but someone didn't look at the directions closely enough. ahem.

Anyway, despite that, we had a great time. Jude loves trains and was so excited to ride one. Plus, they had an astoundingly huge playground, and a carousel. Good times. I love making memories with my family...

He's All Growns Up

Before.

After.

It was a battle. An arduous, painful, heart-wrenching battle. I got my son's haircut. He had a glorious mop, and now he looks like a boy. A beautiful boy, but not a toddler, and I am sad. He aged a couple of years that day...

We had gotten his hair cut many times; he had become accustomed to it, and even looked forward to it due to the lollypop he receives when it is finished. However, this time we were cutting it short, which called for the use of clippers. Which then sent my son into a frenzy - tears, flailing limbs, shrieks... It literally took both my husband and I to hold him down so that the hairstylist could finish the job. It took an hour. He was exhausted. We were exhausted. Charlie, his stylist, was exhausted. As were were leaving, and Jude had happily picked out an orange sucker my husband said, "Tell Charlie thank you; say 'See you next time'"... now, I can understand hoping we don't come back to repeat the debacle, but she actually made a face. At least try to hide it, Charlie.

Oh, how quickly they grow.

my midnight musings

My husband snores. Therefore, I am lying in bed at 11:30 in a room completely dark, save for the soft glow of my computer screen. What do I want to say to the world (or my 2 readers)?...

Be grateful. Always be grateful.

In a time of uncertainty, in a time of need, in a time of waiting... choose to see the blessings that are spilling over, filling in the cracks that our humanity inevitably creates. They are always there, if only we see them for what they are. The most faithful and loving man I've ever known to make me feel invaluable. Unparalleled humor in the form of my almost 3-year-old. The sweetest coos you'll ever hear. Devoted eyes. A smorgasbord of cuddles. Warmth. A bed that, at times, feels like what I would imagine a cloud feels like. Support, in a multitude of forms. Peace.

Nothing compares to peace.

This is a reminder to myself: be content in every circumstance, but more than that, be grateful.

Let's Start a Movement

I have something to say, friends. I believe, as a cyber-community, we're kind of playing it fast and loose with the LOL thing... how many times that you typed that did you actually laugh out loud? I propose a new movement of more appropriate acronyms such as CUB, chuckling under breath, or SS for slightly smiling. Let's be honest with ourselves and others.

I also prefer the more subtle " :) " for an indication of enjoyment/friendliness/my own attempt at humor. Give it a try. You might like it.

In closing, I propose we hold each other accountable on this overuse of LOL. Let's make this a better internet. Thank you for your time.

*Next time, addressing "WTF"...

A Flower and a Bumblebee

I'm so proud of my little bumblebee. He won a costume contest at the church carnival we went to. He just stood up there on the stage clapping for himself every time they said his name, cheesing it up... he won a gift card to Toys R' Us. It was a good night...

He kept smelling Layla. Because she was a flower.

Just a Little Bragging...

I really love this girl. She is an astoundingly good baby. She, like her brother before her, hit two months and started sleeping through the night. She really goes with the flow. She doesn't seem to be bothered by brother's pokes and prods. She's got a smile that warms my heart. I'm a lucky mama...

The Mystery of the Worms

I have a mystery to solve. Over the past week, I have found several dried-out worms on my floor, nearly everyday. Always dead, always in different locations. Usually in the kitchen. However, a few days ago, I found one in the middle of my living room. How are they getting there? Where are they coming from? Upon discovering this worm stuck in my living room carpet, I said, "I'm going to go insane."

Jude, standing nearby, replied, "Can I go with you?"

Tonight I made a delicious pumpkin cake...

My husband is currently looking for a job, which has it's ups and downs. The up being that I have a lot of help around the house and with the kids. The down being the whole no income thing.

Therefore, we have been eating at home a lot. We're saving money, and it ends up being healthier too. Except that I've taken to making delicious desserts quite frequently, as a consolation for not getting to eat out. I'm thinking maybe it cancels out the healthier-eating-at-home thing.

The Circle of Life

My grandmother passed away last week. Her name was Virginia, aka "Jenny." She is the reason we gave Layla that middle name. It is amazing how life comes full circle. I was watching the parallel closely as my daughter came into the world, and my grandmother departed.

Layla looks like my grandmother. It was one of the first things I thought when I saw her, after observing how perfect she was. It was a little surreal welcoming her, realizing I would have to say goodbye to my Grandma very soon. Toward the end, Grandma resembled the state Layla was in, asleep most of the time, helpless and dependent on others...

I will miss my grandma so much. She was a meek, kind and loving person and I am so grateful I had the relationship with her that we shared.

More than anything, I am grateful she got to meet Layla. I am grateful she knows we named Layla after her. I am grateful to have a picture of my sweet grandmother giving my sweet daughter a kiss. Nothing could replace that.

Adjusting...

There are a few things different about this newborn experience than with my first... one, is that, thanks to Jude, Layla has already had a cold. Toddlers just seem to be germ magnets and, unfortunately, Layla got the raw end of the deal due to brotherly kisses and cuddles. By the time I noticed his runny nose, it was already too late... Also, I can understand why subsequent children can be so adaptable and laid back. It's because they get poked a lot. And leaned on. And squeezed. Did you know newborns don't seem to know to close their eye when a finger is coming right at it?

I'm not as obsessive about things being perfect this time. It's much more challenging to keep a house clean with a toddler. I'm just happy when we all get to eat in a timely manner. When we manage to keep some semblance of a schedule for Jude. When I can shower.

It's only been two weeks, but this family dynamic feels really natural. Jude loves his sister, even if he also loves to experiment with her comfort threshold. He's very sweet and empathetic towards her when she's fussy or crying.

I feel very blessed.

The Arrival

Well, she's here. August 27, 2009. 7lbs. 8oz. 20 in. Layla Virginia. Perfect.

To say I feel blessed is such an understatement. I felt the same way when Jude was born. Like I'm walking in a grace I don't deserve, but am utterly aware of.

The adjustment has been seamless, so far. Jude loves her. We're adjusting to less sleep. Of course, at times, it seems difficult but that's where that grace seems to abound, and it just... works. More to come on adjusting to life with two...

Nesting

Well, the pre-labor burst of energy has hit. I am trying to clean, cook and freeze, and get organized. I have felt pretty good these last couple of weeks... Last week the doctor said I'm dilated to a 1 and 50% effaced. I know that can last for weeks, but at least it's progress. I'll take it; and hopefully, it's continuing...

My dear friend, Kelli, is throwing me a baby shower on Saturday. That's really the only thing that I'd like to wait for, and then, baby girl, come! I'm really starting to feel ready, ready to meet her, ready to introduce her to Jude, ready for the sleep deprivation...

I wonder what it will be like to share my motherly love. I pray for grace, patience, and for Jude to feel as special, loved and vital to this family as ever.

If she's right on time, then I have about 3 weeks left. But I do hope she comes a little early...

Oy.

This was quite the week. Jude got a stomach virus, and couldn't keep anything down for most of the week. Bless his heart. There's nothing worse than watching your child suffer, wanting to help but being unable to. He's a trooper though, and I'm fairly certain we've come out on the other side...

On top of that, oy. I'm not sure, but I may be more of a wimp this pregnancy than I was the first time. That, or this pregnancy is tougher. Or it's harder being pregnant when you have a toddler. Or I have conveniently forgotten how uncomfortable I was the first time around... in any case, oy. I feel big. And hot. And uncomfortable.

I really shouldn't complain; I know it could be so much worse. I'm blessed, really.

But, oy.

Robot Authority

Jude is really like his father in so many ways... it warms my heart watching the two of them together.  And honestly, if he has to be like any man, I can't imagine a better one to emulate.  

Even down to simple things like his adoration for chips.  That comes straight from his daddy. It's actually a bit of an obsession.  I am happy he doesn't have much of a sweet tooth, but I've really got to watch his chip intake.  

He also has a slight obsession with robots.  That's why last night in the car, this comment cracked us up:

(Done in his best monotone robot voice)

"I-am-a-robot.  Give-me-some-chips."

I really think that he thought being a robot gave him more authority, that we would just succumb to his robot request.  I love that kid.

One Day at a Time...

Well, it's been several weeks since my last post, and those weeks have been arduous.  long.  testing.  We are potty training... I'm exhausted just thinking about it.

We jumped right in about two weeks ago with the no diaper, no underwear thing.  He just roams the house naked from the waist down, and I'll go out on a limb and say he's enjoying it.  It actually works quite well reminding him to go to the potty, but there are times when, say, he's 5 feet away from it and can't be bothered to make the trek.  Let's just say that when he gets a better handle on this, we would be wise to invest in some carpet cleaning.  I was quite impressed with Jude; almost immediately he took the initiative and went when he needed to go.  I didn't think he'd get the hang of it as quickly as he did.  Some days I'm so encouraged, and feel like we're almost there.  And then there are the days I feel as though he's regressing.  Those are dark days.  Days full of cleaning up urine.  I'm sure in a few months I'll look back on this and think to myself what an easy process it was, and not even remember the dark days.  That's what I'm counting on at least.  Because by then I'll have a new little one's bodily functions to clean up after.  I just have to remember, it's a process.  And to be patient.  Rome wasn't built in a day, right?

Exciting news!

Ben's parents were down for the Easter weekend, and Jude was ecstatic to have Grandpa and Grandma here.  They, of course, did what grandparents do best and spoiled him a little.  He got a tool set, which he loves, and a tee ball set.  For me, Grandma brought a nice sickness that I made sure to catch before they left yesterday.  I want to be motivated, to get stuff done, but my body is saying no.  Despite the illnesses, we had a great family weekend.

In other news, we found out what the baby is!   Drumroll.... it's a girl!  We're so excited; this is what we were hoping for, and what's more, Jude seems genuinely excited too.  He's taken a real interest in my belly, even to the point of lifting up my shirt in inappropriate places to check on it... 

I'm very content, and a little drained at the moment.  Life is good.

Not Even a Few Tears?

I just got home from a long weekend visit with a dear friend... it was my first time away from Jude and, I'll be honest, I was a little nervous about it.  He's always been a bit of a Mama's boy... we spend so much time together, it seems only right.  I was so looking forward to a little girl time, non-mommy time, etc.  But the apprehension persisted.  I knew my husband could handle it; it was how Jude would feel that worried me.  

However, my fears were seemingly unfounded.  He did great.  Excellent.  He didn't really have a sad where's-Mommy-moment.   He did ask to call me several times, though.  And it's a good thing he never broke down, because there were moments, listening to his sweet little voice telling me he loves me, that I almost did.  If he would have cried, it would have been over for me.  He did so well that I actually felt a bit disappointed that he never had a meltdown.  I mean, where's your heart, kid?  If I, the adult, almost cried, couldn't he muster a few tears?  Just to make me feel better?  

I must say, this vacation had a wonderful effect on me.  I came home sooo happy to see my fellas and energized in my role as a mother and housewife.  I really must do this more often...

The Stash

Trying to be resourceful, I occasionally rotate out some of Jude's toys.  I hide some of the older ones and bring them out after months without them.  Jude inadvertently found the stash.  He saw the tupperware bin in my closet and thought it would be perfect for climbing.   As he began to mount it, a suspicious and familiar song came from the bin.  He stopped climbing and looked around.  Hearing nothing anymore, he resumed his task.  As he finally climbed up, the song began again.  He gasped...so he wasn't just hearing things.  He climbed down, and took of the lid.  He couldn't believe his eyes.  As he began to pull out the toys, one by one, I could see the disbelief on his face.  And the realization that Mommy was holding out on him.   I think he felt a little betrayed.  These were his toys, after all.  What right do I have to hide his toys?  He just kept saying, "Look!  Drum!  Oh!  Treehouse!" etc... Now, those toys are strewn all about the house, adding to the clutter I was trying to remedy.  

I guess I'll have to find a new hiding place.  

Bold and Free

"My dear children, let's not just talk about love; let's practice real love.  This is the only way we'll know we're living truly, living in God's reality.  It's also the way to shut down debilitating self-criticism, even when there's something to it.  

For God is greater than our worried hearts and knows more about us than we do ourselves.

And friends, once that's taken care of and we're no longer accusing or condemning ourselves, we're bold and free before God!  We're able to stretch our hands out and receive what we asked for because we're doing what He said, doing what pleases Him."

1 John 3: 18-22

I love this passage.  I can't help but feel that's the key: practicing real love.  Sometimes I wonder how I can know if I'm doing that.  It seems a little abstract; there's no way to measure it.  But if our focus is on Him, and we're filling ourself with His goodness, how can we help but love others?

I have felt, multiple times, as if God has told me that I'm too hard on myself.  Which, to me, is a little odd.  Shouldn't I be more hard on myself?  But I feel as if this passage addresses that: "debilitating self-criticism" is not of God.  We're fallen, but Jesus has covered our sins.  So, when God looks at us, He doesn't see the fallen, He sees his child.  He sees a royal priesthood.  

I love that verse, "For God is greater than our worried hearts and knows more about us than we do ourselves."  I know my heart tends to be worried, but this passage says to let go of that worry, to be bold and free before God!  Hold out our hands, receive what we've asked for.  What a blessing; to be heard by the Maker of the Universe!  To receive what I've asked for!  

That is a lesson I am learning, how much power there is in prayer.  That I am to come before him with boldness and freedom, confident that He hears me.  

Thank you, Lord, for hearing me.

Hello Lent

So, we're about to embark on the season of Lent.  And this year, I really thought about what I should give up.  I thought about what would challenge me the most, what I could really benefit from missing.  I decided to fast from television.  I have been using TV time as decompression, especially the last couple of months when I've been so tired and drained.  But I don't want TV to become anything I need in my life.  Really, shouldn't my quiet time be my decompression?  Or reading, or taking a bath...

Of course I partake in these activities too, but not as much as if I didn't have TV to conveniently fall back on, to zone out with.  It's not as if I watch a lot during the day, but at night, after Jude's asleep, it's what we do.  (I say "we," but usually Ben is on his mac, sitting next to me as I watch tv).  I'm excited to see what creativity stems from lack of television.  How will we pass the time? I would love to use this time as a spring board to watching less television in the future; I certainly don't want my children attached to it.  

I'm excited about the potential growth in my life.  About what the Lord can do when I have fewer distractions.  I'm sure it will be a challenge at times (Lost!), but isn't that what this whole fasting thing is about?  So, farewell television... 

Battle Cry

We have a new battle.  A battle between toddler and parent.  A battle between stubborn and more stubborn.  

We transformed Jude's crib into a toddler bed (aka, crib without front rail) as to aide his transition to a big boy bed.  For the first week and a half, he did splendidly.  How perfect, I would think, is my child...He has since discovered that there is no invisible boundary keeping him in his bed.  Nap time has now become "Jude play by himself in his room" time.  I know this doesn't seem so bad, but the kid needs his sleep.  And I am reluctant to even think about losing the nap, the glorious mid-day break.  

Hence, the battle.  He begins to play.  I come in and put him back in his bed.  He plays again.  I put him back in his bed, not saying a word this time.  He plays again.  I, more frustrated, put him back in bed, and glare at him angrily.  This process can continue for an hour.  A few times, I have entered his room, only to find it empty.  Well, not actually empty, but I could not see him. He was under the bed, of course.  Speaking of this, I need to go put him back in his bed.

Okay, that time he was actually poopy.  Much of the time, he will claim he is, but will not be.  I have gotten so frustrated by his persistence, that I have actually cried.  (I am pregnant, but still!)  Eventually, he falls asleep...usually.  And by then, I have to take a nap too...

I have to say, this is the first time I have truly seen his stubborn side, a trait that I am not happy to say decidedly comes from me.  I am realizing that the toddler battles have begun (I thought I was getting lucky on that one).  

Any advice?

Lazy Days

Well, I'm knocked up again.  I'm wondering if first trimester = unmotivated for anyone else... is that just me?  Of course I'm tired; growing a baby is hard work.  But it's a mental thing too.   I can't seem to make myself do the things around the house that need to get done...

Part of the problem might be that sections of my house are impossible to go into without holding my breath.  Namely, the kitchen/pantry.  This whole smell sensitivity thing is kicking my butt.

I may sound like I'm complaining, and maybe I am, a little.  But, I am so very thankful for these symptoms.  After going through a miscarriage, I can't take these things for granted.  If I have to gag frequently for a few months, so be it.  If I constantly feel nauseous, great.  If I can't seem to get enough rest, bring it on.  If all this means the baby is healthy, then I am happy.  

However, I will not be sad to see the first trimester pass...

Heart-warming

List of people Jude wanted to pray for tonight:

Uncle Scrooge

Mickey Mouse

Santa

Such a spiritual child.

Such an affectionate kid...

Jude is now using "happy new year" as a term of endearment.  He tells us "happy new year" as he's hugging us, before we put him to sleep.  

He also occasionally throws in a "happy birthday" and "happy anniversary."

I'll take it. 

Ahhh...

I love the holidays: the time with family and friends, the traditions, the music, the food, the communal heightened sense of charity and giving...

And one of my favorite parts of the holidays is when it's all over.  Something about how busy we get, and how the schedule gets turned upside down makes me say, "ahhhh..." when January rolls around.  I love returning to normalcy, getting back on schedule, and finally feeling like my house is in order again.  When you have a child, routine is your best friend.  Children thrive on routines (at least mine does), and while he does fine when we have house guests, or when we're on vacation, I just feel like things go that much smoother when we get back on schedule.  Maybe it's more for my sake than it is for his...

January rolls around, and I want to be better.  Smarter.  More fit.  More organized.  More creative.  Something about this time of year makes me hopeful, like I've got a fresh start.   

And even if I don't always accomplish what I so ambitiously plan to do, at least I'm trying to grow.  Ah, the possibilities...