My list of good things...
A quiet sleeping baby
Reading The Secret Garden for the first time
Strawberry Rhubarb pie
Fresh leaves on the trees
Clean baby clothes
Sweet baby smiles
The fact that pants always come in a bigger size
Beautiful new purses from old friends
New teapots
Anticipating Mr. M arriving home
Mr. M finally arriving home
Back massages
Antibacterial wipes
A new "Martha" magazine
Inspiration from the new Martha magazine to do something creative
Yogurt shop with friends
Long June days
Pacifiers
Receiving blankets
Mutual adoring looks between myself and Baby R.
Baby R's sweet voice
Songs with lyrics that explain exactly how you feel
That tomorrow will be a new day
Thursday, June 09, 2011
Sunday, May 29, 2011
What I need
Now that I'm a mom I need a hobby. You might think that I should have had a hobby before I became a mom. Now that I have little time to myself I want to utilize it better than I did before. This is the way of things. We don't know what we have until it's gone.
What we do have is a wet spring and I am cherishing it. I don't mind the gray clouds and rain showers. Soon green will fade to yellow. Moisture will give way to dry heat, but it will still be windy.
My tulips have come and gone. Now I wait for salvia and daisy, clematis and phlox; and try to dig my way out of feedings, diapers and spit up long enough to think about what I enjoy. Possibly do it.
What we do have is a wet spring and I am cherishing it. I don't mind the gray clouds and rain showers. Soon green will fade to yellow. Moisture will give way to dry heat, but it will still be windy.
My tulips have come and gone. Now I wait for salvia and daisy, clematis and phlox; and try to dig my way out of feedings, diapers and spit up long enough to think about what I enjoy. Possibly do it.
Friday, March 18, 2011
My new job
I'm a mommy. Baby R arrived in the early morning hours of March 10th. After an intense labor a c-section was the only option for getting him out. He is sweet, likes to suck, hates his clothes or diaper changed, and furrows his brow often which makes him look like an old man. I love him. This is a great relief to me since I didn't have those lovey feelings during pregnancy. Every day feels more normal than the last. Every day has me wondering how this little boy is going to change and enrich our lives. Looking forward to it.
Tuesday, March 08, 2011
The tenth month
I am 41 weeks and one day, today. I have felt sick off and on and I hear this can be signs of something to come. I am going to be induced on Thursday. I am determined to leave the hospital with a baby, I will stage a sit in if they try to send me home. A silent or not so silent protest. I think at this point it is a safe assumption that the novelty of pregnancy has worn off.
In other news I discovered a six inch rip in the back of my pants on Saturday, after walking around in three different stores! Hopefully no one noticed and if they did, may they have already forgotten what I look like.
In other news I discovered a six inch rip in the back of my pants on Saturday, after walking around in three different stores! Hopefully no one noticed and if they did, may they have already forgotten what I look like.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Waiting
The ninth month of pregnancy adds new meaning to the word waiting. He could literally arrive any day. Will he be sooner than later?
My mom was here for two days and we hung curtains and shopped for last minute baby items: essentials and wants. Mothers are wonderful things. I can only hope that some day I can be as good a mom as mine.
I have almost come to terms with the pain. Almost. Of course I haven't had said pain yet so I might be taking this back next post. What I mean is that I am resigned to the inevitable. It's gonna hurt. It's gonna hurt more than anything else I've experienced in my life. But the pain is only a means to an end. My reward for all the misery? A sweet baby boy and a lifetime of love and worry. Bring it.
My mom was here for two days and we hung curtains and shopped for last minute baby items: essentials and wants. Mothers are wonderful things. I can only hope that some day I can be as good a mom as mine.
I have almost come to terms with the pain. Almost. Of course I haven't had said pain yet so I might be taking this back next post. What I mean is that I am resigned to the inevitable. It's gonna hurt. It's gonna hurt more than anything else I've experienced in my life. But the pain is only a means to an end. My reward for all the misery? A sweet baby boy and a lifetime of love and worry. Bring it.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Saturday, January 29, 2011
January
I've got to get at least one post in for January. Mr. M is out in the garage tinkering away on the car. I need to put my feet up and so here I am.
Advice on child rearing abounds from all corners of the spectrum. All advice falls into either the "I am seeking your thoughts and wisdom and would like to know" category or the "I didn't ask you for all of your valuable knowledge and so why are you giving it to me like it's the only way to raise a child" category. My brain can't keep up. The cry-it-out method vs. the never let them cry it out method vs. the somewhere in between method? Co-sleeping or not to co-sleep? Swaddle or don't swaddle? Strict schedule vs. no schedule vs. flexible routine? How old is too old to keep a bottle? When do I take their pacifier away? Assuming of course that we allow them to have one. And if I allow them to carry a bottle around or a pacifier this automatically makes me an indulgent and idiotic parent that won't have control over their unruly child, right? To count or not to count: "You have to the count of three..." Everyone has their opinion and everyone is free to give it and free to judge you for whatever approach you take, including me. It all makes me rather hesitant to bring it up or discuss it, unless I'm among those in my "circle of trust."
All I know at this point is the kind of parents I want us to be and the kind of atmosphere I want our home to have. I want our kids to know that they are loved unconditionally, no matter what they do or don't do. I want them to understand who God is and who they are in Christ. I want them to know how to respect others. I want them to have compassion. I want them to feel safe to talk to us about anything. I want our home to be inviting and a place of refuge, not only for them, but for their friends. I want them to know that discipline is for their good. I want them to stand up for the things that are right. I want them to be able to know when they've done wrong.
Obviously these things don't just happen. Obviously there needs to be some major training and parenting that's taking place. Obviously we need God's help to accomplish any of these things. Obviously. Where a pacifier (or lack of) and a strict nap time fit into all this I don't know. I know that growing up we didn't have a bed time or a special day that we showered. The only routine thing I can vividly remember doing was sitting down and eating dinner together and going to church. And yet my brothers, sister and I managed to grow into four functioning, well adjusted adults who came from a home where they knew love and were taught love. I knew not only the love of my parents, but the love and grace of the Creator of the universe. And not that I always did the right thing, but I knew right from wrong. I knew what it meant to disappoint those I love. I knew forgiveness. And I, along with my siblings, all came to know Christ.
The need, for Mr. M and I on the cusp of parenthood, is prayer and diligence and the Word. God, help us to reflect Christ to our children. Help us to remember that we are not in a battle against our children but a battle for our children.
Advice on child rearing abounds from all corners of the spectrum. All advice falls into either the "I am seeking your thoughts and wisdom and would like to know" category or the "I didn't ask you for all of your valuable knowledge and so why are you giving it to me like it's the only way to raise a child" category. My brain can't keep up. The cry-it-out method vs. the never let them cry it out method vs. the somewhere in between method? Co-sleeping or not to co-sleep? Swaddle or don't swaddle? Strict schedule vs. no schedule vs. flexible routine? How old is too old to keep a bottle? When do I take their pacifier away? Assuming of course that we allow them to have one. And if I allow them to carry a bottle around or a pacifier this automatically makes me an indulgent and idiotic parent that won't have control over their unruly child, right? To count or not to count: "You have to the count of three..." Everyone has their opinion and everyone is free to give it and free to judge you for whatever approach you take, including me. It all makes me rather hesitant to bring it up or discuss it, unless I'm among those in my "circle of trust."
All I know at this point is the kind of parents I want us to be and the kind of atmosphere I want our home to have. I want our kids to know that they are loved unconditionally, no matter what they do or don't do. I want them to understand who God is and who they are in Christ. I want them to know how to respect others. I want them to have compassion. I want them to feel safe to talk to us about anything. I want our home to be inviting and a place of refuge, not only for them, but for their friends. I want them to know that discipline is for their good. I want them to stand up for the things that are right. I want them to be able to know when they've done wrong.
Obviously these things don't just happen. Obviously there needs to be some major training and parenting that's taking place. Obviously we need God's help to accomplish any of these things. Obviously. Where a pacifier (or lack of) and a strict nap time fit into all this I don't know. I know that growing up we didn't have a bed time or a special day that we showered. The only routine thing I can vividly remember doing was sitting down and eating dinner together and going to church. And yet my brothers, sister and I managed to grow into four functioning, well adjusted adults who came from a home where they knew love and were taught love. I knew not only the love of my parents, but the love and grace of the Creator of the universe. And not that I always did the right thing, but I knew right from wrong. I knew what it meant to disappoint those I love. I knew forgiveness. And I, along with my siblings, all came to know Christ.
The need, for Mr. M and I on the cusp of parenthood, is prayer and diligence and the Word. God, help us to reflect Christ to our children. Help us to remember that we are not in a battle against our children but a battle for our children.
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