30 Days of Thankfulness--Day 8

Today, I am thankful for the sun.  I think I feel it more today than usual because I have not seen it for awhile, and I miss it.  I love natural light.  It makes me feel good.  And the sun coming up in the morning is always a sign to me that God sees fit to give me one more day to serve Him, or at least one more chance.  Thank you, God, for second (and third, fourth, fifth, one-millionth) chances.

30 Days of Thankfulness--Day 7

On day 6, I talked about being thankful for my freedom.  Day 7, I thank the men and women who fought to ensure my freedom.

THANK YOU to all the men and women who have ever served in our armed forces, and thank you also to their spouses and loved ones.  That is the biggest font this blog will let me write, or it would be bigger.  Even then, it could not convey the gratitude I have.  Thank you to all of you.

30 Days of Thankfulness--Day 6

(Still playing catch-up!)

Today I am thankful for my country.  Having spent some time in a former communist country, I've gotten a look at what it might be like to not have the freedoms I enjoy.  Most of all, I'm thankful that I get a say in who governs my country.  I might not always get what I want, but I get a voice.  What I think matters.  And if I don't like what's going on, I have the right to say something about it.  I have the freedom to attend the church I choose, or even whether to attend at all.  I have the freedom to earn money and to spend it however I choose.  There are many things I take for granted in my life, but I hope my freedom is never on that list.

30 Days of Thankfulness--Day 5

(Yes, I know it is November 8th today. Busy times, you know.)

I am thankful for everyday miracles. Sometimes they're biggish--I look at Peanut every day and think, Wow, I grew her! For, like, a year and a half! Women's bodies are AMAZING! And sometimes they're so tiny they're easy to miss, like getting three children out the door and to church on time by myself. Or two babies taking a nap at the same time. I'm thankful for every one of them.

30 Days of Thankfulness--Day 4

Today it's my kids' turn.  (It's a short post, but don't let that make you think that I'm any less thankful for them.)

I am thankful for my children.  Believe it or not, when other parts of my life get crazy, they keep me sane.  They're a great cure for self-centeredness--they need me to take care of them, so it really can't always be about me.  They are so loving.  They are eternally forgiving.  They are generous (which has been demonstrated recently by Nathaniel and Sophia offering me some of their Halloween candy).  They are eager to please, most of the time.  They make me want to be worthy of all their love, generosity, and forgiveness, so in that they help me honor God.  I am so thankful that He saw fit to entrust me with their care.

30 Days of Thankfulness--Day 3

Days 1 and 2 of November have made me very grateful for the star of Day 3:  my husband.

It's been a rough month or two for me.  Despite the fact that I don't have a "real job", I am stressed out daily.  I've also been having what I think are meds issues, which just exacerbates the stress.  Then yesterday was one of those days that comes straight from the pit of hell.  I honestly don't know how much more of this I can take.

Enter my husband.  He works long hours at two low-paying jobs so that I can stay home and raise our kids.  Surprisingly (maybe, since I worked in a daycare for so long), I'm not a big fan of daycare for babies and toddlers.  I am very, very glad that high-quality early childhood programs (like the one I had the privelege of working in) exist for the families that need them.  However, I'm glad our family doesn't, that I can stay home so we can raise our kids ourselves.  And not only does Matt work long hours, sometimes putting in a nine-hour shift just before going to work an eight-hour overnight at his other job, he helps me with the kids during the day, which is a huge bonus for everyone.  He never makes me feel bad for not working outside the home, not always keeping up with the housework, or needing help during the day with the kids, even though I feel pretty lazy pretty often.  And when days like yesterday come along, he lets me pour my heart out and just listens (even if it's only just listening to me cry), which is usually just what I need.  He takes care of me.  And he doesn't hold it against me when I gripe at him for getting too involved in Packers games. :)

I am so thankful for my husband.  Thank you, God, for giving us to each other.  I think it was an unlikely pairing to a lot of people, but he is exactly what I need.

30 Days of Thankfulness--Days 1 and 2

Today, while hanging out on Facebook, I noticed a trend starting.  Several people are taking the time each day in the month of November to name one thing for which they are thankful.  Seems like a pretty good idea.  I could use a reality check right now--my life does not suck, no matter what my mood and brain chemicals are telling me.  But, since it is nearing midnight on November 1st, I will combine days 1 and 2.

So, since I'm combining the first two days together, let's start at the very beginning.  (I hear it's a very good place to start.)

I am thankful for my mom and my dad.

Let's start separately (and in no particular order--they both know that I love them the most, so it doesn't matter who goes first).  My mom is my best friend.  Sorry, Matt, but it's true.  She's known me the longest, and she knows me the best.  She's known me at my best.  And at my very worst.  And she still puts up with my kids every Sunday.  (That's love for you.)  I admire my mom so much.  She is one of the strongest, most courageous women I know, and she has no idea how strong and courageous she actually is.  I can't claim to know exactly what her life has been like, since I haven't lived it, but what I see is adherence to God's wisdom and His commandments and rejection of what the world apart from God calls wise.  I am so thankful that God gave us to each other. 

My dad has also seen me at my best and my worst.  The lone man, drifting on a life raft in the sea of estrogen that was our house in the '90s.  I don't know how we managed to stay close after my teen years, but we did.  He is always in my corner.  We like hanging out together.  We have traditions.  I think the world of him.  He is also one of the bravest people I know. (There are two kinds of bravery, by the way, if you've never noticed. There is bravery in the face of the unknown, and there is the kind of bravery that is shown by knowing exactly what you'll be facing and choosing to face it anyway.)  I am so thankful that God gave us to each other.

Together, my parents are the ultimate example of commitment in a marriage, and an example of how two very different people can grow together as a result of a commitment like that.  Imperfect though it may be, like anyone else's, their marriage is what I look to as an example of how God blesses commitment between a husband and wife.  I am very thankful for that example.

------------------------------------

And so begins my month-long discovery of my blessings.  I call it a discovery and not an acknowledgment because it's been so long since I've thought about my blessings that I couldn't find them right away when I needed them, so now I have to go looking for them again.  So we'll see what we can find.

(And if any of you out there are gasping in horror and thinking, "Why isn't she thankful for God in her life?!" just because I didn't list Him on Day 1, don't worry.  I didn't forget.  I've got something in mind.)

What are you thankful for today?

A Common, Ordinary, Everyday Miracle

I got ten minutes of uninterrupted quiet time this morning.  We had to take both vehicles to church, since Matt had to work at 1:00 and would be leaving church before we did.  Since I almost never get to drive my own car anymore (with three kids, I get the old crappy van), I drove it to church and the kids rode in the van with Matt.  So, anyway, ten minutes of quiet time.  I got to thinking about how Peanut is going to be ten months old on Thursday, and how close that is to being a year old.  Holy crap, how did that happen?!!!!

Well, it all started with a second pink line.  (That's where it'll start in my story, anyway.)  Great and Holy Friday, 11:00 p.m., after weeks of charting my basal a.m. temperature, I peed on a stick, knowing that it would be positive.  Called my dad, reminded him of my promise as he picked up the phone ("I told you you'd be the second person to know . . ."), then laughed when he finally caught on that he was going to be a grandpa again!  Just a couple days later, on Pascha, indulging in leftovers from the last night's feast after Agape Vespers as is the tradition in our parish, I started feeling crampy as Peanut, a tiny little ball of cells at that point, found a nice cozy spot in my uterus to burrow in and get comfortable.  Weeks went on.  I sobbed when I heard her heartbeat for the first time (and I'm tearing up as I write this now), was thrilled the first time I felt her move (that NEVER got old), felt crazy nervous/excited when my water started trickling, went out of my mind with joy as I held her for the first time (right where I sleep every night! I'm sitting in that very spot right now), then sobbed again when I had to leave her in the NICU.  (Maybe someday I will put my birth story on here.  I've neglected writing it because I a.) was out of it as most women in labor are, I think, and b.) I didn't ever look at the clock, on purpose, so I have no idea what the sequence of the events are.  I remember the events, just not in order.  Makes it hard to write a story.) 

I can remember reading a book, given to me by a friend, that had a chapter for every week of prenatal development.  Every Friday, I read the next chapter that said how big my baby was and what parts were developing at that time.  Her heart started beating only a couple of weeks after I knew she was in there!  She developed a spleen right around that time, too.  Not that that's particularly special to most people, but . . .

It should be!

Babies are miracles!  Every part of them!

And they are being conceived, developed, and born at the rate of hundreds of thousands a day.  In 2010, worldwide, an average of 251 babies were born every minute!  Thousands of babies are being born in the time that it takes me to write this blog post.  And miracles all.

I sit here and I stare at my own little miracle, sleeping in her bed right next to mine.  I can see her chest rise and fall and her eyes move under her lids as she dreams.  The eyes that began to develop shortly after her heart did.  The more I sit here and think and write, the more amazed I am. 

So often we forget that we are "fearfully and wonderfully made," as the psalmist David says.  We are not miracles by accident.  We did not just develop, though that's the terminology we use when we're talking about the science of it.  We do not just develop; we are made.  By a Maker.  By THE Maker, Who made the heavens and the earth in the very beginning.  By the One who performed the first miracle:  "'Let there be light,' and there was light."  But, too often, we overlook the miraculous nature of events because they are common.  We think of miracles as standing out.  Which they often do.  When Christ gave sight to the blind, made the lame to walk, cleansed lepers, gave hearing to the deaf, and raised the dead, it stood out.  People noticed because it was not ordinary.  They didn't see it every day.

Babies are miracles.  Common, ordinary, everyday miracles.  But miraculous just the same.  Babies grow into children, who grow into adults.  And all of them are miraculous too.  Put aside the eye rolls and snide comments that come to mind when you think of people whom you can't stand, and pay attention to that statement.  ALL of us are miraculous.  The whole of the psalmist David's statement is:  "I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made."  He understood.  He paid attention and saw past the common-ness. 

Babies are common.  Life is common.  But they are miraculous just the same.

***********************************************************************************

It's been awhile since I posted last.  For those of you who don't know, Matt did get a job.  Two, in fact.  They are both considered part-time, but they keep him pretty busy.  Now that the school year has started, I am babysitting again.  So, we're doing ok.  Taking advantage of the county's hospitality, but it won't be forever..  The kids are doing well too, despite the upheaval they experienced.  Thanks to all of you for your prayers.  God is good.

Here's Hoping!

There are lots of things in my life that are "up in the air" right now.  I don't like to be unsure of things.  But I refuse to give up hope!  (Did you hear yourself, Sarah?  You refuse to give up hope.  Remember that.)  Here are some examples:

1.  We'll start with the easy one.  Nathaniel and I planted a peach pit in the yard today.  When he asked why we can't grow peaches, I thought at first that they needed a warm climate.  But then I remembered that Michigan grows them, not just Georgia.  So we're giving it a shot.  I have no idea when to expect anything to come up, so chances are pretty good that winter will come, we'll stop looking for it after the snow hits, and then forget about it for a few years.  But you never know.

2.  The kids.  Nathaniel's still having a rough time dealing with his mom disappearing, having accidents and the like.  We started therapy last week, so Matt and I will be getting some strategies to help him out, since right now he needs more help than we know how to give him.  We'll see what happens.

3.  Matt's still looking for a job.  It's looking somewhat promising.  He interviewed for a position as an activities director at a local assisted living facility.  He did activities at a different facility before he became a CNA, so they gave him a call.  Yay!  We hope to hear from them soon.

4.  Matt had his meeting with the lawyer for Brown County (his former employer) today.  Fr. Maximus went with him and was a huge help, and Matt said that the lawyer was pretty easygoing.  And it was just the lawyer, without the people responsible for him losing his job.  The lawyer seemed very receptive to what Matt had to say.  Matt's feeling good about it and we're praying for a good outcome.

I also learned something interesting today.  It is a very scary thing to pray, "Not my will, but Thy will be done."  As a commenter on a previous post said, "We only see God's providence in the rearview mirror."  So if things don't go the way we planned, it will be very easy to second-guess what is happening.  "Is this really what God had in mind?  What if we're doing something wrong?  How do we know we're on the right path???"  Ick.  I don't like being in that place.  I know it's good for me, so I can't really complain about it.  But I'm hoping that God thinks that people should realize how crappy Brown County was to Matt and decide to allow him to quit rather than be fired.  Some back pay would be nice too. :)

The Week From Hell

That pretty much sums it up lately. 

For those of you who haven't heard, it's been a pretty rough week.  Not only did we have to break the news to Nathaniel and Sophia about never seeing their mom again, but Matt lost his job.  In a really crappy way.  Allegations were made that were not true, and they did not follow proper protocol in handling them anyway (i.e. verbal warning, write-up, etc.), which basically amounts to a wrongful termination.  Monday morning Matt had gotten a call from work telling him that he was on suspension.  This was for a completely different incident, one that they were absolutely correct to investigate, and we were pretty confident that he would be cleared to return back to work.  But that was not to be.  He was indeed cleared on that incident, but other things came up during the investigation.  As I said, allegations were made, and he was let go.

Let me back up a little bit and digress for a moment.  I am a stay-at-home mom.  That is all I have ever wanted out of life.  To get married and have children and get to stay home and raise them.  I figured it would never happen, but then Matt got this job very soon after Peanut was born, and I was able to quit work when she was about 2 1/2 months old.  It might seem odd for someone who worked in a group child care center for 11 years, but I hated having her in daycare.  I think child care facilities can be wonderful places for children who need to be there because of family circumstances, but I believe that it is best for our family for me to stay home with Peanut and be available for Nathaniel and Sophia during these next few years (which will undoubtedly have rough patches for them).  Needless to say, I was psyched that we could do this, and I was so grateful to God, and to Matt who worked so hard to make this happen.  So when we got this phone call saying Matt was suspended, even though we weren't really too concerned at the time, it got me thinking.  What would happen if Matt ever did lose his job?  The thought TERRIFIED me.  And then I realized:

I love my life too much.  I was hanging on too tightly.  And that can be tricky business.

Didn't Christ Himself say, "whoever desires to save his life will lose it"?

So I prayed.  And I mean really, really, PRAYED.  For the first time in much too long.  (Hmm, about as much time as I've been really loving my life, the one I had always wanted, the "husband and kids" one.  Coincidence?  No such thing.)  It went something like, "God, I gotta let go of all this.  You gotta help me.  Please!"

And He helped.  He took the fear and replaced it with faith.  I thought (and still think) that I know what is best for my family, but I was reminded that He knows better than I do, and I hung onto that.  Ok, I'm feeling better now.  Still confident that Matt's job will be ok. 

But I still needed that reminder.  And it came just in time.

Matt got called in to go to work at his regular time Thursday.  But then he called about an hour after his shift was scheduled to start, saying he was coming home because he had lost his job.  Then my prayer was more like this:  "Help help help help help help help help what are we gonna do? help help help help help gotta be strong for Matt help help help help help help!"

And He is helping. 

First of all, let me tell you (who don't know him) how great our priest is.  He gives rock-solid spiritual advice, but he is also extremely practical.  Which is really helpful.  We should be able to trust God no matter what, but I have to say, in my case it's a lot easier to trust when I have a solid game plan.  Fr. Maximus helped Matt out a lot with an approach to appeal his employer's decision to terminate.  God has really blessed us by sending him to us. 

God has also blessed me with some opportunities, one of which is another child to care for during the day to help bring in extra income. That would still allow me to stay at home even if Matt's appeal didn't work out and he got a lower-paying job (which actually might be a possibility; he found out there's a position opening up at a previous employer).  I also have the option to go on my old employer's substitute system.  They're not technically hiring more subs right now, but my director said she'd be willing to put me on if I decided I need to do that.  That is definitely a personal favor she would not extend to most people.  It would allow me flexibility with hours and could be a temporary fix if needed.

Also, Nathaniel got stung by a bee today.  Which doesn't seem pertinent, but it is.  He got stung while playing outside in the yard, and our neighbor got him some ice.  Matt went over there to thank her and met a friend that they had over, who is a county board member and is on the Human Services Committee, which oversees the Brown County Community Treatment Center--Matt's employer.  Matt told him what happened and he thought it sounded a little fishy.  So he told Matt to call him tomorrow and he'll see what he can do.  I have never had any love for yellowjackets, but the one that stung Nathaniel has a special place in my heart.  Even if it turns out that this doesn't help, it's nice to know that God has sent people to look out for us. 

This really has been a week from hell.  But I'm determined to let it point me in the direction of heaven.  The second half of Christ's statement I quoted earlier is, "but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it."  I may not find the life that I loved and might lose, but that's not the life He was talking about finding anyway.

Promised Pictures

I'm pretty sure that somewhere back in a previous post I promised that I'd have pictures on here.  Well, even if I didn't, here are some miscellaneous fun ones, going in reverse chronological order.

This one is of our haul from the farmer's market today.  It's the first time I've ever been to one, can you believe it?  It was SO FUN.  We bought gourmet cupcakes (Tay, this is for you): they were dark chocolate chipotle with avocado lime frosting. I figured they were too weird not to be good, and I was right.  They were delicious, though it was weird to have a spicy cupcake.  Anyway, I took this picture right after we got home.  The spinach and tomatoes were for the BST's we had tonight (spinach instead of lettuce).  The rest is just for fun.  The white package is goat cheese curds.  We got free samples, quite yummy!  Those are for Uncle Daniel.  And notice the missing raspberries?  Hmm...  Don't know what happened there...

Moving on! 

Peanut wore this dress last Sunday, and I meant (and forgot, of course) to tell people that I wore this dress on my very first 4th of July! 

This one is of Nathaniel reading Dr. Suess to Sophia.  These kids are seriously cool.  Don't mind Sophia's mismatched pajamas.  (Seriously, who wouldn't want these kids???  But I digress...)

Eating strawberries and Cool-Whip ("What's Cool-Whip?"  Really?  I have been neglecting their education big time.) at G&G Coats's.  Nathaniel's favorite thing to do at G&G's right now is practice throwing and batting with Grandpa Steve.  It's a good thing Grandpa is so patient.

These last ones are from our day at Bay Beach (the little city-run amusement park, for you out-of-towners). 

One of the kids riding the slide with me:

The three of us on the train.  Nathaniel does not know how to smile for pictures.

This is his second attempt at a picture smile:

Riding the big swings.  Ick.  I was more than happy to hold the baby and the camera.

Now I'm kinda wishing there was another baby-holder.  I like the ferris wheel.

But really, who would want to miss this cutie???  This is what Peanut does when it's ferris wheel time.  And yep, she always sits in her stroller like that.

I thought a bit lighter post would do us all some good!  Have a lovely day! :)

"All Things Work Together For Good." Right?

Any Harry Potter fans out there?  I could really use a Pensieve right about now.  I have too many thoughts in my head to make sense of them right now.  I'm hoping the writing will help, since I don't know where to find a Pensieve. 

We had some very, VERY shocking news in our family recently.  As most of you know, my husband has two children from a previous marriage.  Nathaniel is six, and Sophia is five.  Our arrangement has been that Matt and I have primary placement of Nathaniel (he lives with us most of the time, goes to school here, etc.), and their mom has primary placement of Sophia.  We switch off weekends so the kids get to see both parents and spend time with each other.  This summer, we agreed to split up the summer vacation, so Sophia has been with us for the last five weeks or so, and we were going to drop the kids off next week so they could spend the second half of the summer with their mom.

Well, things have changed.

Two Sundays ago, Matt got a phone call from Lorinda (the kids' mom).  She said that she thought the kids should be together all the time, especially since she's been having trouble with some of Sophia's behavior, and she's noticed that Sophia seems to do better when Nathaniel is with her.  So she wanted us to take primary placement of Sophia as well as Nathaniel, and she would keep visitation rights.  Cool!  We were so excited.  Matt and I decided that Lorinda should be the one to tell Sophia, so the plan was to work this out with Lorinda so she could do it on the 11th, which is the day we had set up to make the exchange.  We thought she'd take them the rest of the summer, and then when school started we'd just take both of them home with us.

And then things changed again.
. 
Last Sunday, before we set that up, Lorinda called again.  This time we got a bombshell dropped on us.  She decided that she doesn't want visitation rights.  In fact, she never wants to see either of the children EVER AGAIN.  That's right.  Never. Ever. Again.  Not now, not in a year, not in ten years, not ever.  She said it would be better if it was like she didn't exist.

And then it was our job to tell them.

What on earth do you say to children whose mother does not want them?  So often, when parents get divorced, they do their best to assure their children that it is not their fault, it's between mommy and daddy, mommy and daddy still love them very much.  And even after that, some kids still blame themselves.  Well, this time, mommy isn't here to say, "This isn't your fault."  All we can do is say that mommy wants what's best for you and she thinks this is best.  And then hope we're right.  And hope they buy it.  And of course we told them how excited we are that we will all be a family all the time.  The funny thing was, when we told them, Sophia was absolutely thrilled.  "You mean I get to stay here forever?  Yaaaayyyyyy!!!!"  We're not quite sure she gets it.  That she will never see her mommy any more, ever.  She will never see Josh (their stepdad) ever again.  She will never get to go "home" (or what she has called home for as long as she can remember). 

But Nathaniel gets it.  He asks the "Why?" questions.  "Why aren't we going to see our mom anymore?"  "Why does she want just us to be a family?"  "Why does she think this is the best thing?"  I don't know, sweetie.  I wish I did.  I don't understand this much better than you do.  Now that I'm a mom of my own child, I understand what people mean when they say that you fall in love with your child.  What the heck happened to her?!  I'm asking myself the same questions that the kids will eventually ask themselves.  What happened?  Why did she do this?  Why doesn't she want to see them?  Doesn't she love them?  And what about Josh?  Sophia calls him Daddy.  Doesn't he love her either?  And I just don't have the answers.  I probably never will.  The kids have given us small clues as to some of the stuff that goes on in their house, and it sounds like their marriage was a little rocky, but we never saw this coming.

Romans 8:28 says, "And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, who are the called according to his purpose."  I have to believe this.  I have to.  How else can this be explained?  I SO wish I could see the good right now.  And I guess I do; if things were going south at their mom's house, and if she doesn't want them, of course it's better that they be with us.  But man, what a price to pay for that "good".  And it's the innocent ones that are paying it.  I heard someone say once that everything that happens in our lives, everything, will either bring us closer to God or drive us farther away from him.  Everything can be used for our salvation.*  Maybe all this is happening now, when they're still pretty little, so that we have plenty of time to pray that they will use this for their salvation when it matters, when they are mature enough to wrestle with all these "why" questions. 

And there's another definite positive--Sophia will be received into the Orthodox Church, hopefully very soon.  May the Holy Spirit work in both her and Nathaniel, if nothing else to give them the wisdom to understand that it's not always our job to know the answers, but it is always our job to trust that God, Who knows all, has everything in His control.

So, in the meantime, please pray for them.  And pray for Matt and me, that God will give us the wisdom to know what to say when we don't have the answers, and that we can use this opportunity for our salvation as well.

Pensieve crisis averted.  Writing did help.

*For my non-Orthodox readers:  we believe that we have been saved, by grace, through faith, but we are also continually being saved.  St. Paul says, "Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling."  (Philippians 2:12)  So, that's my goal.  To have faith, rely on God's grace, and continue to work out my salvation.  I suck at it, but I keep at it anyway.  I hear it's worth it.

I Screwed Up

It's been a few days.  The days have been pretty eventful.  So much so that I have too much stuff to write about and have therefore written nothing.  Such is life.

Well, I was trying to figure out what to call this post.  My immediate thought was "Oh Crap", but that will be a fitting title for many posts to come, so I figured I better think of something a little more specific to the situation, haha.

Having Sophia in the house this last month has been an adventure, to say the least.  Truth be told, I was a little trepidatious (yes, I had to look up the spelling) about her being here for such a long period of time.  Six and a half weeks.  That is like forever.  We get bits of information from her mother, that, when put together, paint a picture of quite the sassy little girl.  Apparently they have a problem with lying and outright defiance.  We have her every other weekend during the school year, and she's really pretty good for us, but we realized that things might be different with her here for such a long stretch.  I admit, and I am ashamed of it, that when something goes wrong, my assumption is that she had a part in it.

For some reason, I had one of those days where it seems that any little noise is excessive, and I was on edge all day.  The kids were inside most of the day because it was oppressively hot outside, and round about 4:00 it was getting to be too much for me.  Peanut was getting tired, so I took that opportunity to excuse myself to go upstairs where it is quiet and air-conditioned and put her to sleep.  Just before I went up, Sophia asked to do a puzzle.  (They're all up on a high shelf because the last time she did them she dumped about six of them on the floor at the same time and wouldn't pick them up.)  So I got one down for her and went upstairs.

Peanut and I were lying down on the bed together.  I set an alarm so I would wake up in time for church and closed my eyes.  I was almost asleep when I heard a chair being dragged across the floor, presumably in the dining room.  Now, Sophia has a habit of trying to do things without asking first.  Not that we don't let her do anything without asking our permission, but she takes things she shouldn't be playing with or does things that are not safe.  So I immediately thought, That little stinker is trying to get another puzzle down. I kept listening, but didn't hear anything else, so I let myself drift off. 

I came downstairs when it was time to make dinner.  Nathaniel and Sophia were both in the dining room.  Sophia held up the puzzle toward the shelf and said, "Here, we gave up trying.  Can you put it away?"  I of course thought they were trying to climb on a stool (which was pulled out a little way from the table toward the shelf) and put the puzzle away.  I asked if they were trying to get up on the stool to put the puzzle away and they both said no.  So I said, "Who pulled the stool across the room?  I heard it from upstairs."  Sophia said, "I did."  So I sent her to her room for lying to me about climbing on the stool, thinking she had done it to get to the puzzles on the shelf.  I talked to her a couple minutes later and explained that I didn't send her to her room because she was climbing and not being safe, but because she lied to me.  She said she was sorry and asked if I would forgive her.  I said of course I would, but she needed to remember that we tell the truth at our house. 

I finished dinner, and we sat down to eat.  And Nathaniel said, "I pulled this chair out from the table to get a puzzle piece that fell on the floor."  Oh no.  I asked, "Is that why I heard something being dragged across the floor?  Did that really happen?", knowing that it was too logical a story not to be true.  And later, he told me that the pieces were not all there so they didn't finish the puzzle.  They "gave up trying."

Crap.

Why do I do this to myself?  Or, more to the point, why do I do this to them?  I always assume that I know exactly what is going on, when I really have no clue.  I know she has a problem with lying at her mom's house, I heard a chair dragging on the floor, I know she likes puzzles, I know she likes to take things without asking.  You'd think that would be a pretty strong case, right?  Nope.  Definitely wouldn't hold up in court.  And really, do I even need to try to put a case together?  I'm not a lawyer, I'm a parent.  And a Christian one, at that (though I'd have a hard time proving that in court, too).  Where's the grace?  Where is the mercy?

So for the second time in two days, I found myself apologizing to my daughter.  I asked her to forgive me and she said, "Of course!"  She is so sweet.  Later on, while we were sitting on the couch, she leaned her head on my shoulder and said, out of the blue, "I love you, Sarah."  There's the mercy.

Later, after they went to bed, I tried to turn on the TV using the remote control.  It wouldn't turn on.  I tried a few times, and nothing.  I opened the compartment where the batteries are to change them, and there were no batteries.  I asked Matt if he took them out, and he said no.  Sophia's the only one who watches movies on that TV lately.  That little stinker took the batteries out of the remote!, I thought.  Here we go again... 

Lord, have mercy!

Here are a couple pictures I thought appropriate to the situation:

So true.

The whole thing isn't necessarily applicable to the occasion, but I really like it.  And I seem to frequent that last place often.

Promised Misadventures

Quick note about the last blog:  I should not have called Matt "compliant."  That makes it sound like I run the household, which I don't.  I get ideas, run them by him, and he happens to agree with most of them.  I couldn't think of a better word, but I should have just explained it like that.  Anyway...

The explanation of the first part of the new blog name should be self-explanatory, especially if you've been following this blog and noticed the sub-heading.  Thinking over today's escapades and planning the blog, I realized I've had a few entries about the crazy stuff that seems to happen pretty often in my life.  They're not always my fault, but the blame lies with me this time.

Peanut had a doctor's appointment this morning.  I also needed to go to Wal-Mart to return some clothes that didn't fit.  So I loaded Peanut up in my car, which I hardly get to drive anymore because I've got all three kids all day.  I always take the van, so that's where my purse usually is.  So I get to the doctor, and thinking about the insurance card, I realized that my purse is in the van.  Crap.  So I plan to run home and get it before I go to Wal-Mart.  I even texted Matt and told him I'd be home again. 

So I left the doctor's office and headed straight for Wal-Mart.  Without going home first.  I got there, got out of the car, and realized I forgot my purse just as I opened the door to get Peanut out.  Crap.  So I got back in the car and went home.  It was late morning, and Matt was asleep.  Sophia was up playing, and she told me she was hungry.  I hadn't had much to eat that morning, so I was hungry too.  I made us some lunch.  I also realized that I had forgotten the bag with the clothes I needed to return (even though I put them right by Peanut's carseat by the door so I wouldn't forget them).  So I grabbed that, loaded Peanut back up in the car, and drove to Wal-Mart.  And realized I forgot my purse again.  Crap.  (Notice how often I'm using that word in this post?  That won't be the last time.)

I drove back home, got the purse, and then drove back to Wal-Mart.  I made sure to grab my purse before I got Peanut out of the car.  I got a cart from a cart corral, put her inside, and walked into the store.  And realized I had forgotten the bag with the clothes in the car.  Crap.  So after just having entered the store, I had to turn around and go back out (feeling pretty stupid because I made that mistake in public).  I returned the clothes, picked up some batteries that Matt needed, and left. 

I also had to go to a local natural foods store, which is right by a major highway, so as I walked out to the car, I thought about the best way to get there from where I was and which highway to take.  And I took a wrong turn out of the Wal-Mart parking lot.  Crap.  From the time I left home the first time that morning to the time I returned home the final time should have taken about an hour and a half, maybe two hours at the most.  I was gone from 9:20 a.m. until 12:45 p.m.

Thankfully, the rest of my day went well.  Matt and Nathaniel had their own misadventure, when we couldn't find Nathaniel after his bus from summer school came to our local school to drop him off.  Matt walking to the school but as he got close, he didn't see Nathaniel waiting.    We thought he may have gone home with the neighbor boy like he has a couple times, so Matt called the boy's mom, who also hadn't seen him.  Slight panic ensued.  Turns out, the bus driver had told him to wait inside the bus, so Matt didn't see him as he approached.  Lame on the bus driver's part, if you ask me, but you didn't, so I'll just say there was a big sigh of relief when we figured that out and found him.

But back to my day, the kids and I met my mom and Izzy at the park and had a nice afternoon.  Got home, fed Peanut, and she fell asleep.  Awesome, I needed a nap too.  We laid down in bed together so I could nurse her back to sleep after she woke up from me taking her out of her carseat.  Well, the shots really knocked her out, and she slept for three hours!  Which meant I got a three hour rest too, since she nurses off and on when she sleeps and I'm kinda stuck.  (Well, I choose to be, but she does need a long nap sometime during the day, and this is a good way to ensure she gets it.)

So, now you get the "misadventures."

I think my brain fell out of my head today.  If you see it, please let me know.  Thanks! :)

The Road to "Crunchy"

Hopefully, I have successfully changed the name of this blog to "The Misadventures of a Newly Crunchy Mom".  We'll see if it worked.

For those of you who are not familiar with the term "crunchy" (as it applies to people), it refers to people who are into "natural" stuff, and I most often run into the term when it applies to parenting.  Home births, cloth diapering, co-sleeping with your children, breastfeeding into toddlerhood, "attachment parenting", babywearing, eating organic food, not vaccinating your children or delaying vaccines, making your own baby food, etc., etc.  "Crunchy" as in granola.  Not all "crunchy" moms practice all of these.  For example, Peanut is vaccinated (she just got shots today, as a matter of fact), and I can't afford lots of organic food.  And I don't eat granola.  Except in bar form.  And they're the chewy kind.  But moving on...

I was introduced to this lifestyle (I'll call it this though I think there's a better word somewhere) gradually.  It started with a woman at my church.  (You know who you are. :) )  She was certified as a midwife a few years ago, and she shared stories of her certification process as it went on.  It sounded really interesting.  So when I married Matt, I said, "Hey, is it ok if we use her whenever we have kids?"  Matt, being the open-minded and compliant husband he is, had no problem with this.  So I got pregnant three months later, double-checked that it was still ok, and got the thumbs up.  Then I found out she only does home births.  Ok, cool.  Checked with Matt, and his response was, "As long as we can get to a hospital if something goes wrong, that's fine."  Sweet!  So I started doing research on home births, and I liked what I saw.  So Peanut was born at home, in the very place my feet rest every night.  Turns out we did need to go to the hospital shortly afterward (I hemorrhaged badly, lost lots of blood).  But in spite of all that, I loved laboring at home.  Had I been at the hospital, I would have had tons of interventions that I did not want or need but are standard procedure at hospitals.  Even with everything that happened, I'm not sorry I did it.

Anyhow, doing the research about home births, I came across blogs and websites of crunchy-type people.  Through these sites, I was introduced to other "crunchy" practices.  I did a lot of research on a lot of topics and began to see the benefits, though without doing the research I would never have considered some of them.  Kids, babies, sleeping in beds with parents?!  HECK NO. NO WAY!!!  I worked in a child care center, for heaven's sake.  SIDS training for state-licensed child care facilities was mandatory.  Babies on their backs to sleep, in their own beds.  Hearing of babies sleeping with their parents in bed made me cringe inwardly.  However, I found there are ways of doing it safely.  And I'm reluctant to admit it because I had always been so against it, but Peanut does sleep in bed with us for part of the night most nights.  And that's just one example.

And Matt, once again the open-minded, compliant husband that he is, was agreeable to many of these practices.  I even talked him into cloth diapering!  Granted, cloth diapers have come a long way since my parents used them with me.  I do not have to rinse them in the toilet, for one thing.  Peanut is exclusively breastfed (even at 6 months old, another uncommon "crunchy" practice), and breastmilk poop rinses out in the washer.  And they make these cool diaper sprayers that hook into the plumbing of the toilet so you can rinse yuckier solid-food poop into the toilet without touching it.  There is no flipping way that I would ever put my hand in a toilet.  Eww.  But cloth diapers save so much money!  Sizeable investment up front, but one-size pocket diapers can be used from itty-bitty all the way through potty-training, and can be used for more than one child.  And they're super cute.  I forgot to put pants on Peanut last Saturday, but her lime-green diaper kinda sorta matched the shirt she was wearing.

Anyway, that's "crunchy" in a nutshell.  It's my second crunchy post in a row.  I promise they won't all be like this.  I will get back to posting stories and pictures.  In fact:

Next post:  more misadventures!

Breastfeeding Rant

Ok all, this post departs from my usual theme.  Warning:  There is a picture of a woman breastfeeding her child down below.  It should be far enough down so that hopefully you won't see it right away when you read this and will have the option to scroll down to see it or not.  I encourage you to do so, though, as it has a (rather lengthy) message written over the top that I find very powerful.

Before I start, I want to say this:  There are many different reasons why some women choose not to breastfeed their child, and I'm not judging anyone who makes that choice. 

But I am not afraid to say that I believe, and it has been proven scientifically, that breastfeeding is by far the better choice for children, both babies and toddlers.  The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends breastfeeding for at least a year, and the World Health Organization recommends it for two years and beyond.  Formula cannot compare.  No matter how many vitamins and minerals they put in formula, it absolutely cannot compare to breastmilk.  Not only are the nutrients much less bioavailable (a baby cannot absorb nearly the amount that is actually put into the formula), but it is much harder for a baby to digest and it does not contain any of the antibodies that breastmilk does that helps build a child's immune system.  Studies have shown that breastmilk adapts to a child's needs, both babies and toddlers.  For example, did you know that the amount of antibodies in breastmilk increases around age 9 months and into toddlerhood?  At exactly the age that babies begin to be mobile and put everything in their mouths.  And that's just one example.

If you scroll down to the picture, you will see the kind of crap some people give breastfeeding women.  It is absolutely horrible.  There is NO scientific evidence whatsoever that breastfeeding into toddlerhood is detrimental to a child's future emotional/mental well-being.

Also, there are laws in most states specifically protecting a woman's right to breastfeed her child in public.  Wisconsin law states:

253.16 Right to breast-feed. A mother may breast-feed her child in any public or private location where the mother and child are otherwise authorized to be. In such a location, no person may prohibit a mother from breast-feeding her child, direct a mother to move to another location to breast-feed her child, direct a mother to cover her child or breast while breast-feeding, or otherwise restrict a mother from breast-feeding.

I also looked up breastfeeding laws in your state (the states of anyone I can think of who could possibly be reading this blog), and each of them has similar laws.  Illinois even gives a woman the right to bring legal action against anyone who breaks this law.

Please know this:  most women who breastfeed in public are doing their best to discreet.  Very few women are out to show their boobs, whether they cover up or not.  I personally feel more comfortable without a cover.  Not only does a cover practically scream "Naked breasts under here!!!", but between blindly messing with my shirt and a wiggly baby, I end up flashing people more often than without a cover because it doesn't stay put, no matter how hard I try.  I find it very sad indeed that most of American society loves to see women's breasts until they are being used for their number one intended purpose.  I also find it sad that people who have the guts to approach a breastfeeding woman because they believe that showing breasts is indecent do not approach women who wear revealing clothing and often show more of their breasts than the breastfeeding mother.

All that being said, here's the picture:

I probably wouldn't use some of the words myself (the last statement, for example), but it gives a good summary of the nasty things that people say to breastfeeding moms and the things that breastfeeding women often suffer through trying to persevere with breastfeeding because they know it's best for their children.  I personally intend to breastfeed Peanut and any other children I may have for as long as it is mutually desired by both of us, my goal being at least a year (and hopefully longer).

If you've made it this far in my post, thank you for taking the time to read it.  I believe that there are many misconceptions about breastfeeding that lead to some of these attitudes, and I'm out to educate.  I hope I've accomplished my goal.  I truly and wholeheartedly welcome any comments, whether you agree or disagree.  However, I reserve the right to attempt to further educate. :)

End of rant. :)

Sweet Potato Success, and More.

She doesn't like bananas.  (Weirdo.)  She doesn't like avocadoes.  But sweet potatoes:

Took a taste all by herself!  I won't call it a bite, I don't think she actually got anything in there, but it's a start!  She also ate a couple pieces that I put in her mouth for her.  Yay!  Now I have to go to the grocery store and buy some more.  (By the way, this is my dad's old high chair.  Cool, huh?)

In other news, I took the kids to the library today for the first time.  The neighbor boy was over at our house when I decided I wanted to go, so I told him to run home and ask if he could come along but to tell his mom and dad that I would need a car seat for him.  He came back and said he could go, but his mom wasn't home and his dad "didn't know how to work those contraptions" so he'd need some help.  Then it started to rain.  HARD.  He lives behind us, so I told the older 3 to run over there and I'd load Peanut up in the van and drive over there.  So I got Peanut buckled in her carseat in the house, got her diaper bag together, and grabbed an umbrella.  Even with the umbrella, I got really wet getting to the van.  I put Peanut in, and realized I forgot her diaper bag in the house.  Grr.  So I ran back to the house and got it, getting even wetter, of course.  Got back out to the van, and I thought, Hey, I might want to put this in my blog.  I better get the camera.  So I ran back to the house again.  Finally ready to drive over, and now I'm soaked. 

I got there and his mom had just gotten home, and she got his booster seat.  (It doesn't even need to be installed; he just sits in it and uses the regular seatbelt.  Quite the complicated "contraption", I'd say.)  Since Nathaniel and Sophia's booster seats are in the way back, I told them to go out first.  We ran out to the van, and of course the door is locked because I left the van running and they lock automatically.  (Still pouring, of course.)  I had to run around the van to the driver's side to open my door and unlock the others.  I ran back and shooed them in and shut the door as fast as I could.  Then I went back to get Hanno.  He, his mom, and I ran out to the van again, opened the door, and Nathaniel and Sophia still weren't sitting down.  "What's going on???" I ask, not a little annoyed because I'm getting even wetter.  "The stroller's in the way!"  Crap.  The back seat is folded down and the stroller is on top.  I didn't even notice in my hurry to get them in.  Matt must have needed a little extra room for supplies he needed for the house (he's doing some work upstairs).  So I ran around behind, pulled the stroller down by the tailgate, and yanked the seat up.  Hanno's mom helps him buckle, and finally everyone's in and ready to go.  FINALLY.  I pulled out of the driveway, got about a quarter of a mile down the road, and Hanno announces, "I don't have any shoes on!"  AAARGH!  I drove around the block, pulled into the driveway, got out of the van... and it was only sprinkling.  Really?  Come on.  Grr.  Lovely timing, I must say.  Oh well.  We got there, read some books and got some to take home (on my library card; I'm not cool enough to sign them up for cards since I'm not the legal guardian).  And guess what?  After soaking myself further to go in and get the camera, I forgot to take pictures. 

Finally, Some Relief!

The high today was only 80 degrees!  It's been in the high 80's/low 90's all week. I do not do well in the heat.  I decided a couple years ago that because I don't like winter and can't stand the cold, I was not going to complain about the heat, no matter how hot it was.  I've been pretty good about sticking to that, but not complaining about it is not the same as not feeling it.  And, as it turns out, it's probably genetic.  Peanut does not do well in the heat either.  There's a famous story in my family about me as a baby being inconsolable on a hot day until my dad finally plopped me in a cool tub--and I shut up immediately.  Lucky for me that I know the story.  The first really hot day we had, Peanut was pretty fussy and I thought of a bath right away.  She's never enjoyed the tub so much as she has this summer.  Wet kitchen floors to prove it.

Anyway, a couple nights ago it was the worst it's been so far.  Yesterday we got a window A/C unit for the bedroom from my sister (for FREE, she's so awesome), but the hottest night this week found Peanut and me laying on the bed upstairs practically dripping with sweat.  And of course, she nurses to sleep, so our combined body heat made it almost unbearable.  We had a fan going but it was just moving the hot air around, not really helping with anything.  Matt and I have our big window covered with a blanket to keep the early morning sun out, but we pull it aside a little when we open the window so the air can get in.  I glanced over to make sure the blanket was moved over, and it was.  Still SO hot.  Matt got home from work at around 11:45 p.m. and found us upstairs, Peanut still awake because of the heat.  She finally went to sleep around 12:45, more than two hours past her average bedtime, and we both slept badly.

Next morning, I was putting clothes away and glanced over at the window.  And it was closed.  As it must also have been the night before, because I hadn't touched it since.

DOH! 

Oh well, we're still alive.  And we've been finding ways to keep cool during the day.

Playing in the sprinkler at home



Playing in the sprinkler at G&G Tomac's house.  We were invited over to spend the afternoon in the air conditioning, and gladly accepted.

I even put Peanut in a swimsuit.  She had a fever that day though, so not too animated.

Sorry, Grandma Tomac, I couldn't see the screen on my phone to know that this was not the best picture. :(  I wanted to stick it in though because I like Peanut's ponytail!

Gotta love free summertime entertainment!  (Well, free until I see the water bill.  But still worth it!)

Have a great day!  Stay cool!

Happy Father's Day!

Happy Father's Day to two of my favorite men!  God has truly blessed me.



My dad and I have always been close.  As much as "selfish me" wants Peanut to be a mommy's girl, she's got a pretty awesome dad too, and I hope that her relationship with her daddy is as good as mine is with my dad.  I think they're off to a pretty good start.

That's all for tonight!

Another First... Kinda

Peanut turned six months old this week, which means...  solids!  Matt and I (or should I say, I, with Matt's gracious support) have decided to do Baby-Led Weaning with her.  Basically, purees are out.  Babies feed themselves.  If you poke around on the website (or look around on the Facebook site) you'll get the idea.  It's pretty cool.  We can focus on feeding her whole, real foods instead of fillers (like baby cereal).  And because they say if a child is breastfed then "food before one is just for fun" (or, just for practice), we don't have to worry if we offer her food and she chooses not to eat it--breastmilk will supply all the nutrients she needs anyway.  She'll eat when she's ready.  Right?

So, Matt and I were sitting on the couch tonight after the older two went to bed, and we got onto this topic.  Talking about how she puts everything in her mouth.  And about how she's been really paying attention to us when we eat.  Matt says, "Hey, it's too bad we don't have any bananas."  I say, "I could run to the store.  The kids have been asking for chocolate milk but we're out, so I could pick up some of that too."  And all of a sudden we're kinda excited--woohoo, Peanut's going to have real food!  Yay! 

So I went to the store and got bananas, chocolate milk, and a couple avocadoes, since they were ripe and they are supposed to be really good for babies given that they are high in calories and "good" fats.  I came home, nursed Peanut (always give babies solids after they've nursed so they're still getting the bulk of their nutrition from breastmilk), tickled her so she wouldn't fall asleep, set her in the highchair, got the camera, and gave her a couple chunks of avocado.  And waited.

And waited.

And realized...

I hate waiting.  I want to be in control.  She was just sitting there, so I put some avocado in her hand (that took some finagling) and waited again.  Nothing.  Maybe she doesn't get it.  So Matt put a little in her mouth.  Hm.  Nothing.  Matt says, "I don't think she likes it.  Let's try bananas."  So he got a banana and split it (like this, it's kinda cool) and put a "finger" on her tray.  And we waited.

And waited.

And still nothing.

I broke off a little piece and managed to chase down her mouth with it (she would not hold her head still), and I got this face: 

"Hey, Mom, remember?  Baby-led weaning?  Remember the baby?  That's me.  I'm not really diggin' this right now.  Can we just back off for awhile, please?"

Well, so much for that first.  If you can even call it a first.  I'll let you all know when it actually happens. 

Moving On

The older two kids and I have started reading chapter books together at night before bedtime.  We just finished our first one, Little House in the Big Woods by Laura Ingalls Wilder (the first in the Little House series).  I chose that one because it's a very easy read, geared toward very young children, and because I know Nathaniel likes history. 

Last April 15 was the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic, and Nathaniel's class learned about it at school.  I'm not sure what it was about the Titanic or its story that caught his fancy, but he became instantly obsessed.  It was practically all he talked about.  He brought home library books about it.  We found a movie about it on Netflix.  (No, it was not the Leonardo DiCaprio version, it was a documentary originally filmed for IMAX narrated by Leonard Nimoy.  That didn't stop him from asking his bus driver to borrow her copy of the other version, though.)  Any time he had a question about it that I couldn't answer, we got on the internet and found the answer.  And as annoying as it was sometimes (well, a lot of the time), it was cool to see him so engaged in something positive.  And we both learned a lot.  For example, did you know that the Radio Act of 1912 was passed in response to the sinking of the Titanic and made it U.S. federal law that all ships had to have a radio operator on duty at all times?  When the Titanic was in trouble, the radio operator sent out distress signals.  They were picked up by a ship called the Carpathia, which came as quickly as it could but it was too far away and arrived too late to save the majority of the people on board.  There was a ship that was much closer--the Californian--but its radio operator had gone to bed for the night and there was no one to pick up the signals.  Had there been someone manning the radio, many more people would have survived.  (See how much smarter I am because of my son's obsession? :) ) But anyway, the talk of our house for a good six weeks was that "unsinkable" wonder.  And it wasn't just our house.  Anywhere Nathaniel went, people heard about the Titanic having four smokestacks and how Captain Edward Smith wanted to go down with his ship.  So when Grandma T. was out rummage-sale-ing and saw a chapter book about kids traveling back in time to try to save the Titanic, it was a no-brainer, right?  Which brings us back to last night.  It was time to choose another book, and since Nathaniel is older than Sophia and has a longer attention span (this reading time really is geared toward him), I gave him the choice.

And he chose another Little House book instead of the one about the Titanic. 

Whoa.

Don't get me wrong, I think it's awesome.  I love the Little House books and I was hoping that he'd get interested in a different time in history, which it seems like he is starting to.  But when we were smack in the middle of the Titanic phase, I thought I'd be throwing a party when it was over.  I was sick and tired of hearing about those four smokestacks and about how the "Titanic" that Nathaniel was going to build, called the Buttanic (his spelling), was also going to have four smokestacks and hold anywhere from six hundred to one million people (the number changed every day).  But now I'm kinda sad.  Not sad, really...  more nostalgic, I guess.  That stupid sunken ship was such a big part of our lives that I'd think about it even when Nathaniel wasn't around.  I have a picture saved on my computer of an iceberg, showing the part that's under the water (much more than what's above the water, btw) that I came across somewhere and kept meaning to show Nathaniel because I knew he'd like it.  But oh well.  We'll probably read that book together eventually, maybe after the Little House books are done, and if we don't, it's ok.  I'm happy that he is getting interested in other things, but it's just one more reminder that time is moving forward and kids are getting bigger all the time and things don't always stay the same.

Maybe I'll just read the new Titanic book on my own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is a collage Nathaniel made when his class was learning about fabric at school.  The top green flowery rectangle is the Titanic (note the four smokestacks), and it's hitting an iceberg (the white thing on the right).  The brown thing underneath it is the Titanic on the bottom of the ocean.  (The IMAX movie on Netflix was a documentary about finding the Titanic on the bottom of the Atlantic.)  Below that is a fish (dark green) hitting a tiny iceberg (hard to see, it's that green and white stripey thing to the fish's left).

Here's the picture of the iceberg.  Cool, huh?  It's a neat poster in general.  I think someone might have posted it on Facebook.

June 12, 2012--Inaugural

"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away."

Peanut is six months and one day old today.  The days are passing so quickly!  Time really is just a long string of consecutive moments, but if you're not paying attention, those moments get lost in the blur.  I know most of my moments will pass by me unnoticed, but my goal is to hang on to as many as possible.  I've never been one for writing in journals, and let's face it, if I had one it wouldn't last long in my house anyway.  (Anything that can be held in hand can be set down, buried, and lost forever.)  So this is my feeble attempt at a system to hang on to those moments that won't get lost or destroyed.  Internet, don't fail me now!

Today's moment won't be too hard to hang on to (with or without the internet):  Nathaniel can ride a two-wheeler now!  It was a big moment for him and his daddy.  We took all three kids out on the East River Trail, Nathaniel with his bike, Sophia with hers (with training wheels), and Peanut in the Moby wrap.  I love having that trail so close to home.  It was perfect for our purpose today:  nice and smooth, wide, and relatively un-busy.  It didn't matter that we were all moving at different speeds, Nathaniel trying to race his daddy, Sophia trailing behind a ways with her bright pink princess helmet on her head, and Peanut and I strolling along slowly at the back, enjoying the birds and each other and the scene ahead of us. 

I am so proud of Nathaniel.  He passed through that major rite of childhood, learning to ride a bike.  Matt and I were talking later and I was thinking about why learning to ride a two-wheeler is such a big deal.  Of course it's a great thing to be able to ride a bike in and of itself.  But if you think about it, it's a lot to ask of a young child.  It's scary at first.  And when you're scared, your first instinct is to back off and go slowly.  But if you ride too slowly, you tip over.  You have to ride quickly if you want to stay upright.  A child either has to be able to wrap his head around that concept, or just trust that it's true when we tell him, in order to overcome that natural inclination to be too cautious.  Nathaniel, I think more than most six-year-olds, is afraid to mess up, so for him to get past that fear and just GO without overthinking the matter or getting scared is a huge accomplishment for him.  He was positively beaming tonight.

It was his moment.