Sick

My son has been sick since Friday and, of course, shared with me.  We haven't been sleeping much.  I am worn out.  And tired.  And wish I didn't have a head full of snot.  So here's to looking at the good things that I have experienced since Friday morning after a night of about 3 hours of sleep and 4 hours of dozing/waking up constantly to comfort my baby.

1. Friday morning my mom came over to watch J briefly while my dad took me to get some baby medication.  He bought me coffee.  It made me feel human.

2. Sat evening Stacey bought us Chinese food and COKE.  I got Coke!

3. The we got to pick up my sister from the airport as she has been in Florida for a week filming a tv show (read about her adventures here: http://silencestressed.wordpress.com/).

4. Sunday morning we woke up having had more sleep than the last 2 nights put together and cuddled in bed as a family till the ridiculously late hour of 8:30 (if you have toddlers you might understand that I'm not being sarcastic when I say this was very late for us).

5. Day old cinnamon crunch bagels for breakfast (thank you, Nikki!).

6. Sesame Street on Netflix.

7. The opportunity to go to Walmart Sunday evening which gave me a short break from my beloved son, netted me another Coke and ran us into my other sister who was there for vehicle checkup.  Which meant we stood and talked for 30 minutes while playing with squishy balls in the kids section.

8. Robin eggs (the candy, not the baby bird kind) from my mom.

9. My husband is being very supportive and understanding and helpful and generally awesome.

10. II Corinthians.  I'm not keeping up my reading schedule as well as I would like, but it is so worth it when I do read what I am supposed to.

This too shall pass. Now I need to go find the Kleenex...

A simple truth

I've been thinking.

(Which leads me to say, "A dangerous prospect."  I know.)

Last night I was in something of a depression.  I had again the realization that I am not the best at anything, I am not the top in any of my fields.  In the past the way I have dealt with this is to remind myself that no one has my particular mix of talents, but this wasn't helping last night because I went on to thinking that there are a lot of people out there who are better than me at a lot of things and if I can't be great at something what does it matter if I am mediocre at a lot of things??

Like I said, I was in something of a depression.

But I stumbled across a truth that I have neglected to remember for quite some time: it doesn't matter.  Recognition of people, no matter how good it feels, is not important.

What is important is how God sees me.  His opinion is the only one that matters.  And if I can remember that it makes my life so much more simple.

Sure, I want that recognition from people, I want people to tell me I'm doing a good job at (insert word here).  But I am reminded that it isn't important.

I'm not the best at (insert word here) - but so what?  Does God care?  No.  God wants me to Love.  He wants me to love Him and to love other people.

And here's the kicker: the Creator of the universe Loves ME.

And that's what needs to color my world.

Blogs, bears and diapers

The other day some friends and I were talking about blogs.  Some blog owners seem to be perfect: every post is about some wonderful activity they did with their child, the perfect dinner they cooked for their family, or the beautiful sunset that made their day.  Other bloggers talk about the good stuff and the bad stuff, which can be more encouraging to those of us who have a mix of good stuff and bad stuff going on in our lives (read: everybody).  Sometimes it is nice to read ideas and recipes and wonderfulness.  Other times it can be nice to know that we aren't alone in our "What do I do with this child now?" or "He's running naked through the house because he doesn't want a clean diaper," and "Oh look, he's playing in the toilet again," times.

Yesterday I had a mix of good and bad.  I could not figure out how to wear my boy out for his nap - everything I could think of was messy and I had just gotten him in clean clothes and I just wanted to sit him down and let him watch Sesame Street.  Then he had a poopy diaper and I had a good moment (yeah, those two things would not normally go together).  See, lately J has been back and forth on diaper changes - sometimes he'll lie there just fine and sometimes (more often lately) he freaks out and squirms and generally attempts escape (remember the earlier comment about running naked through the house? Yeah, that).  Well, he especially dislikes getting a poopy diaper changed.  So yesterday, right before changing him, we "changed" his bear's diaper (read: we wiped his bear down and put a diaper on him).  IT WORKED SO WELL.  I cannot express how exciting it was to then change J's diaper while he lay there calmly and wiped Pooh Bear down again.  So I tried it this morning when he was throwing his usually morning diaper fit and IT WORKED AGAIN.

I might not be the mom who can always find a cool, learning activity for my child, but darn it, I can change my child's diaper!

And sometimes, that's all the success I need for one day.

Home again, home again

 Yes, we wore coordinating red and black the Sunday before Christmas :)

Mommy and J dancing Christmas Eve morning (which is when we celebrated just the 3 of us).

My Little Geek is an ABC book - for both of my boys to enjoy!

 Little thief likes to steal Mommy's water.

We celebrated Christmas multiple times with multiple family members. Saw The Hubby's dad and his wife Sat, spent Christmas Eve with my wonderful mother-in-law and sister-in-law. Christmas Eve we went to the service at church which was very low key and wonderful. The Hubby and I sang, my sister read a Christmas story she had written a while back and my brother gave a sermonette (are you sensing a pattern here?). We sang lots and lots of carols and it was peaceful and happy and I loved it. Then Christmas Day we headed over to my folks' and spent the day there (and got to see MIL and SIL again when they gave for dinner!).

Then last weekend we headed up to see The Hubby's grandparents, and back here in time for New Year's Eve. Family is fantastic. Holidays are heavenly. I cherish the celebration of Christ's birth. And now I'm very happy to be home and settled back in.

Oh yeah, and we'll be moving at the end of the month. Guess there's not a whole lot of relaxing that's going to happen after all!

Christmas Time

 

I love Christmas Time.

I love my Christmas tree.

I love wrapping presents (ooh, I need to wrap presents!).

I love family time.

I love Christmas carols.

I love celebrating my Savior's birth.

As last year he was too little to do much, I am excited to really introduce things properly to my son this year!

Am I doing it wrong?

Am I doing it wrong?  This whole "mother" thing - am I scarring my kid somehow and not even realizing it?

I read some baby books when I was pregnant and in the early days and when my son wouldn't sleep for more than 2 hours at a time and I was at my wits' end trying to figure out how to help him.  

Then I stopped.

I find advice online sometimes, in fact that is how we finally got J to sleep through the night.  But I don't read it regularly.

Am I doing it wrong?

The books and articles say we should have at least a 30 minute bedtime routine for our toddler and an hour of wind down time is even better.  Our bedtime routine with pjs, diaper, brushing teeth, reading books and singing generally takes about 15 minutes.  Bath days are longer of course, but J usually only gets a bath once or twice a week - I don't think he needs it more often than that.

Am I doing it wrong?

I know everyone is different.  I know every parent is different and every child (even children of the same parents) is different.  I know we all have to make decisions for our own children.  But still I wonder:

Am I doing it wrong?

My child uses a binky (but only at bedtime), eats cookies (on occasion), watches Sesame Street (but only 30 or so minutes a day) and wears hats like no one else.  He signs and talks and screams when another kid plays with the toy he-was-going-to-play-with-he-just-didn't-know-it-yet.  He is a messy eater who generally eats about what I do which are not always the healthiest things I could give him.  He has long hair in the back because I haven't gotten the courage/strength up enough to finish the haircut I started, and his bangs in the front are a little too short because I was apparently enthusiastic about the haircut when I started.  He is adorable and funny and smart and dramatic and stubborn and he is growing up and I can't stop him!

Am I doing it wrong?  Will that question ever go away?

I love my son dearly and while I know that I (along with my husband) will ultimately make the decisions about J according to what we believe is right, I will always have moments (or days, or weeks, or...) of self-doubt.  And sometimes I just need to hear:
You are doing it right.

Please?

Blessed

So it has been an incredibly busy week.  We spent Thanksgiving Day with my family which included breakfast, dinner and playing at the park.

Thursday evening we drove up the NE to spend the weekend with the Hubby's family.

While we were in NE, 3 1/2 hours from home, I got a call Saturday night that said my dad was in the hospital.  Fighting down my immediate urge to drive back that very evening (he was not, after all, in critical condition), we stayed until Sunday afternoon before heading home.  The Boy did not nap in the car as I had expected him to which caused the trip to seem longer than it actually was.  And when we finally did get home I had to wait until my sister had finished nursing her newborn before we carpooled up to the hospital.

Walking into his room the first thing I noticed was that my mom was sitting in bed with him.  It seemed the most natural thing in the world that instead of using the chair she wanted to be close to him, to give (and receive) that physical support.  I almost cried.

It is now Tuesday and my dad is heading home.  Want to know who's driving him?  That's right, my mom, who has been by his side ever since this morning and as much as was physically possible the last few days.

Sometimes my parents drive each other crazy (as is natural for people who have been together for more than 30 years).  But seeing how they care for each other is an encouragement that I take with me into my own marriage.  Love and commitment to the good of the other person is the basis for relationships that stand the tests of time, kids and hospital stretches.