I'd like to thank the Academy...

I never thought I'd win one of these! Hee hee! Thanks, Damselfly, for this great honor! I think I'll put mine in my sidebar, too. This is worth keeping!

Let's see. Now I need to nominate some more blogs. I only read a small handful of blogs, and many of them have already received this award, so I think I'll just nominate three.

1. Darlene Schachts Blog.

I've been following this gal for a couple of years now. She's probably won oodles of these. She founded Christian Women Online and can be seen writing in several other places. She has also published a book called "The Mom Complex" which is just simply fabulous.

2. Learning for Lifetime

I found Susan during the Ultimate Blog Party. She writes thought-provoking spiritual lessons peppered with anecdotal illustrations. I love her!

3. Natalie Kale: Unabridged

This is my sister's blog. She's a twenty-year-old college student, and God is doing a lot with her right now. She expresses so well the things He is showing her. Although I pick on her 'cuz she's my kid sister, I've really learned a lot from reading her blog.

Purses and Bags

I love purses.

I simply adore tote bags.

My favorite store always sells tote bags and purses to match the current season's clothing, and I just about can't help myself.



This is the one I've got my eye on at the moment. (They had some other ones in the store today that don't show up on the website. Pooie.)

So when I saw this contest to win a Coach bag, I just had to enter!!

Own the Day

"This is the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it." -Psalm 118:24

"Say 'hey!' It's a good day, even though things aren't goin' my way. Jesus was born and I am saved so, say 'hey,' it's a good day." -Song by FFH

"Carpe Diem!"

There are so many ways of expressing the sentiments above. Each day is a gift from God. We can't live in tomorrow, or yesterday, or in a day several years from now. What we have is today, and to waste it would be sinful!

Damselfly and I went out today. We enjoyed lunch at a local sandwich-and-soup cafe, then spent a lovely hour at a local park playing with our babies. The weather was beautiful, the boys were happy. It was truly a joyous day. We got around to discussing our hopes for the future. "It'll be so much easier when they can walk and run. They'll play on the playground while we chat." "Won't it be great when they can eat table food and we won't have to worry about baby food and bottles anymore?" "I can't wait 'til they can sit and entertain themselves with their toys so we can get things done around the house!"

Then I realized, yes, those things will be great. But why live in the future? This time of helpless-infants-needing-my-undivided-attention-all-freaking-day-long will not last forever. I thought the nights of waking up 3 and 4 times to feed would never end. I thought that never again for the rest of my life would I get a decent night's sleep.

Lancelot now sleeps through the night. Believe it or not, I sometimes miss those quiet moments cuddling in the rocking chair when everything and everyone else is still.

Yes, it will be fantastic when Lancelot can walk and I won't need to carry him all the time. (My chiropractor will also be glad when I don't have to carry him all the time!) But then, a day will come when Lancelot won't want to be held and cuddled. He'll be independent, doing everything by himself.

It will be incredible when he can eat table food. But then, he will make a mess all over the place or be picky or both or more...

Damselfly and I came to to the conclusion that no matter what stage of life our babies are in, there will always be something that we will be looking forward to not having anymore. So rather than always wishing for something better to come along, we must make an effort to enjoy and cherish the wonderful things we have now because soon they will be gone.

This is true not only in our children's lives, but in our own. How often have we said that things will be better when... etc etc etc? There will always be something that could make things better. There will always be something that could make them worse.

Our planet goes through a cycle of four seasons. These four seasons constantly repeat themselves. It's a predictable cycle. Our lives also have seasons, but each season is a new season, one that we will never experience again.

If you knew that you would only be able to play in the snow for one season and never see it again for the rest of your natural life, would you complain about having to put snow tires on your car, or would you be out sledding and building snowmen at every opportunity you had? If summer only came once, would you complain about the heat or would you build sand castles at the beach? Our lives are like this. Every season is unique, and while they inevitably will have negative attributes about them, it is certain that we shall never see this particular season in our lives again. Ever.

Own the day!

Wordless Wednesday

Early Morning Stream of Consciousness

It's 6 am. My little bundle of joy has woken up. For a little while, anyway. It seems had I checked his diaper when I first heard the screams coming through the monitor, I may have been able to get him back to sleep. Now that I figured it out, (half an hour later and half an episode of "Voyager" watched,) I have gently placed him back in his crib in hopes that he will fall asleep again. While I am awaiting this, I have gone into the next room to write this blog post as I listen for the complaining to subside and sleep to once again fall upon the household. If the complaining does not subside within 5 minutes, I shall know that sleep will not fall upon the household until he has been awake for some time and shall require his morning nap.

Let's see how much I can write in 5 minutes. Join me as I allow my stream of consciousness to bubble forth. Hang on, it may be a bumpy ride.

I want to bake some chocolate chip cookies and eat every single one as soon as they come out of the oven. There is absolutely no point in eating chocolate chip cookies any other way. Maybe I can just make one chocolate chip cookie, that way I won't feel like I'm wasting anything and I won't blow up like a balloon because of all the calories. Speaking of calories, I have another 10 pounds to go to get back to my prepregnancy weight. Yay! I'm joining LA Fitness because they have a great nursery where I am not afraid to bring Lancelot, unlike The Other Gym that I toured where the nursery frightened me. LA Fitness has a water aerobics class that I plan on joining, because I like to exercise but I hate getting hot and sweaty. In the pool, you don't feel hot and sweaty even though you are. It's great. I'm going to the chiropractor again later this morning for my second adjustment. My lower back is starting to feel better, but I can tell some work still needs to be done.

OK, the crying has subsided. Sleep has once again descended upon the household, and yet I remain the only fool not in bed.

Going back to sweet slumber for *hopefully* another couple of hours.

Have a lovely day!

On Being Twisted Up Like a Pretzel and Sat Upon

Hee hee.

My title makes me giggle.

Sounds dirty, doesn't it?

Not really.

I went to the chiropractor yesterday, whereupon I was twisted up like pretzel, and sat upon.

My spine made a big "pop" and things settled back into place, giving me relief after years and years of discomfort. Apparently, part of my hip joint had locked up, causing the rest of my spine to twist and turn to accommodate for the lost motion from that joint. After seeing my x-rays, the good doctor came in and said, "Girl, no WONDER you've been hurting!"

That's when he twisted me up like a pretzel and sat on me. It was very weird. I have no idea what exactly he did or how he did it, but somehow being twisted up pretzel-like and a sudden blow to some part or other of my spinal structure fixed things up. Starting to, anyway. I go back Saturday for another adjustment, and we'll make a plan of routine maintenance from then on. (I sound like a car. 30,000 mile checkup for my spine, perhaps? lol!)

About 6 years ago I hurt my back. I'm not sure how, but I woke up one morning and could barely move. My parents had to come get me out of my college dorm room and take me to the hospital. All they did was give me muscle relaxers, and ever since then I've had trouble with my back. I never thought to go to a chiropractor, until I met one at my church.

I'm very glad I went.

Looking forward to being twisted up and sat upon again.

LOL!!!!!!!!

Wordless Wednesday

Last night, we went to the beach to do some photography for some friends. They were kind enough to shoot some pictures of us, too!

Easter Fun (and) Things that Go Bump in the Night

As you can see by my title, I have two things to discuss today. I will start with Easter Fun.

Since we don't have family in town, we spend Easter with the people in our small-group Bible study. In the last couple of years, we have started a new tradition. Since there are no children of egg-hunting age in the group, the grown-ups have an Easter Egg decorating contest. The photo you see to the left is me with the prize that my husband and I won with our "Most Far Out" eggs, which are pictured below.

As you can see, we have a lovely model of the Millenium Falcon starship piloted by Han Solo, built out of Lego. Inside the Millenium Falcon are R2-Egg2 (made from a quail egg,) Han Egg Solo and Chew-Begga. To the left of the Falcon can be seen C3-Eggo, Darth Eggar, and Obi-Egg Kenobi. To the right of the starship are Princess Lay-Egg, Luke Eggwalker and YodEgg.

Hee hee hee. We had lots of fun making these little guys.

On to the second part of my post. "Things That Go Bump In the Night."

We live in an apartment. Apartment construction is not always the best. A few days ago, my husband was innocently placing a pair of blue jeans on the top closet shelf, and the whole thing fell down on him. He was not a happy man.

However, he got to make a trip to "The Man Store" otherwise known as Home Depot. He bought a new length of shelving and some brackets, and installed a new closet shelf. Things were great and wonderful.

Until 2:30 A.M. when we were awoken by a very loud "bump" in the night. The new shelf had also fallen down. (See below.)

We don't know what caused it to fall down. Perhaps the structure of the wall weakened when the first shelf fell?

Not only did the top shelf fall, but it fell onto the shelf below. Luckily, that one is still up, but some of the brackets holding it to the wall came off. All we need is some new brackets and everything will be fine.

This time, Hubby's going to get a different kind of bracket that will hopefully be stronger.

In other news, Damselfly and myself have just joined a Mom's Group bible study at our church. It meets there at the church, so we have use of the church nursery. Two blissful hours without diaper changes and aching arms. PLUS we got to chit-chat with other grown-ups! It's wonderful!

Good Friday

Today is Good Friday.

Many people do not understand the significance of, or know the meaning of, Good Friday.

If I were the one naming the day, I doubt I would call it "good."

This is the day Jesus was crucified. For three days, the world was without God, as the Holy Spirit had not yet come upon the apostles and the physical embodiment of God had perished.

During this week, our Jewish brothers and sisters celebrate Passover. This past Tuesday, I had the privilege of attending a Passover Seder performed by a Messianic Jew, (or, "completed Jew," as many of them like to be called who have learned that Jesus is the Messiah.) At the conclusion, we watched a video showing Jesus being crucified. I believe some of the scenes were taken from the recent movie "The Passion of the Christ," others were from movies I could not identify.

As they were beating our Lord and His blood was dripping upon the ground, I found myself weeping. So was my husband. A few others in the audience were also wiping their eyes, but I found myself astounded to see so many people displaying no emotion.

I'm not trying to say that I am more spiritual than others because I was crying. I know that many people do not display emotion outwardly, particularly in public. I just think it is so sad that we have become so desensitized to violence that when we see a portrayal of our Lord's crucifixion, it often has little to no emotional impact. When other acts of violence are shown on the television or movie screen, we tell ourselves, "it's not real."

This was real.

It was very real.

As part of the Seder I attended, our friend Peter explained the tradition of the firstborn child asking the Four Questions of the Seder. (For more information on Seders, see "Passover on the Net." He explained that it was the duty of the firstborn child to ask these questions because during the actual Passover, it was the firstborn that would have died had the family not sacrificed a lamb and painted the doorpost with its' blood. Peter said, "The firstborn would really identify with that lamb, more so than everyone else in the household. Because if the lamb didn't die, that child would have died."

He went to explain that as God's children, we are all the 'firstborn' and Jesus is our 'lamb.' If He hadn't died, we would have.

It's all very sobering. On this weekend, many people eat candy, hide Easter eggs, and decorate their homes with bunnies and flowers. That is all well and good, but we often forget the purpose of observing this Holy Day at all.

In my family, Good Friday is a day of mourning. We mourn the death of our Lord. My husband dresses head-to-toe in black to mark the occasion.

On Sunday however, we celebrate Christ's resurrection. And what a joyful occasion it is! (Another thing Peter told us at the Seder was that our word "Easter" comes from "Ishtar," who was a pagan god. Instead, he calls the day "Resurrection Sunday." Now that I know the origin of the word, I might start doing that, too.)

Many people consider Christmas to be the cornerstone of the Christian faith. It isn't. While Christ's birth is extremely important, His death is more so. Without His death, we would not have salvation. Had there not been a death, then celebrating His birth would be meaningless.

I hope everyone has a good weekend, and a happy Resurrection Sunday!

Is anything safe??

*Note: this is a very long post. If you don't have a great deal of time, my "point in a nutshell" is at the very bottom.*


As I've been wandering through the blogosphere, spending time on other mom's blogs and reading articles on different parenting sites, I have come across a great deal of information on the safety of vaccinations. Adventures in Babywearing has a post right now telling a story about her son's reaction to a vaccine. Comments on that post reveal her reader's similar experiences, or acquaintances with similar situations. I've heard tell of research linking vaccines to autism and many other diseases.

It's frightening. I've chosen to vaccinate my son, although I have not taken the time to do the research. I was vaccinated and I'm fine. However, it seems that they are giving many more vaccines now than they gave when I was a baby.

In recent years, the health of Americans (and I'm sure others as well,) has gotten worse and worse. There are so many different "causes" for all these things that it's hard to believe what causes what.

The use of disposable diapers has been "linked" to many problems, including infertility in males.

The use of disinfectant cleaning products has been "linked" to the increase of allergies and asthma.

Eating non-organic food has been "linked" to all sorts of developmental delays.

(By the way, this is totally off-topic, but I despise the term "organic" the way it is used. "Organic" means a living organism. The dictionary definition of "organic" has nothing to do with something being chemical-free or non-genetically altered. Some other word needs to be chosen! I have no problem with "free-range chickens" but to call them "organic chickens" is just dumb. Sorry if I've offended anyone.)

It seems one can find research to support any hypothesis. Another problem with research is that if it is not done properly and scientifically (and OBJECTIVELY,) then the research is not valid. Unfortunately, much of the "research" that is put out there is often opinion and conjecture. At least much of what we find on the internet is. To really find the research, you need to get into the medical and scientific journals. Find out how the research was conducted. Were all variables accounted for? Was there a control? Closely examine the results.

For an assignment in a psychology class I had in college, our assignment was to find a media report about something in the environment causing a developmental problem. (I found an article claiming that female athletes on a low-calorie diet were more likely to develop knee problems. The topic of vaccinations causing problems would have been an excellent choice as well.) Not only did we have to read the media article, but we had to find the actual research which was used in writing the article. So I did. I found the research report in the Sports Medical Journal (I can't remember the exact title) which the media article was reporting on. When I read the actual report, I realized that the media report had it all wrong. Whoever wrote the article that got out to the general public did not closely examine the way the research was conducted and did not closely examine the results. The research report gave a completely different cause for why the female athletes on a low-calorie diet were subject to knee problems. (It wasn't the diet, although that was a minor factor, it was more due to the biology of the foot.)

I say this to encourage all of you not to trust what the media says about research that has been done. Get your hands on the research itself! While research reports in medical/health/science journals can be really dull reads, they put out the facts.

I applaud moms for doing research to make decisions for their child's well-being. I just want to caution you that the media reports about the research might not be accurate. Make sure you have a reputable source. Double-check the facts. If we believed all of the "reports" we read in newspapers, magazines, and online, we would move out of our houses, build a cabin up on a mountaintop away from civilization, grow our own food, get rid of electricity and cell phones, and ride horses to get around.

Not that I have anything against horses. It's just that for every risk we subject ourselves to because of things in our environment, we have many benefits as well.

200 years ago when people didn't have electricity and rode horses to get around, there was probably much less autism, cancer, allergies, asthma, and Alzheimer's disease. However, they also died of smallpox and tuberculosis. Children were quarantined for measles. Thanks to vaccinations, we don't have these deadly diseases anymore.

Before epidurals and c-sections, mothers and infants commonly died in childbirth.

Please, I don't mean to sound judgmental or critical. I just want you not only to be informed about the choices you make, but to be well informed. Every mother has to make these decisions for herself. I have friends on both extremes of the vaccination/diaper/sleeping/organic food debates. I myself am kind of on the fence. While some of the things I do are what is "recommended," many other things that I do would be frowned upon by current medical and societal thinking. (Such as, I put my baby to sleep on his tummy instead of his back.)

Wow, this has gotten long. Sorry!

Here's my point in a nutshell:

Don't believe everything you read. If you read something, read some more. Get to the bottom line, to the facts. THEN make your choice.

Living Water

Jesus often referred to Himself as "Living Water."

The Psalmist tells us the the Lord will "leadeth me beside still waters, He restoreth my soul."

The sacrament of baptism is performed with water.

Our planet is composed mostly of water.

Our bodies are 75% water.

Water is mysterious. In the depths of the ocean reside creatures of God's imagination which we shall never see.

Water is refreshing. On a hot day, a dip in the pool makes us feel "right" again.

When we are thirsty, water replenishes us.

I have often experienced my times of most intimate closeness with God when I am near water. When the cares of the world consume me, I find a place of rest at the edge of the water. Watching the gentle flow of this life-giving substance has an immediate calming effect. (There is a particular place in northern California, in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. A mountain brook running through a campground. Large boulders along the riverbank. A smooth, flat boulder which provided a seat for me when I was young and playing in the campground. I would sit there, watch the water and listen.)

The water is balm to my soul, and I'm not really sure why.

When I am by the water, I can most clearly hear God's voice.


*The photo above was taken on our vacation to Key West last year. If you have never seen the sun set into the ocean, it is an incredible experience.*

The Fright of My Life

I was nearly kidnapped today.

Maybe.

I think we've all heard stories of women who are abducted in parking lots, subjected to all sorts of violent crime.

I was doing some grocery shopping. Having completed the shopping, I was at the car, putting the groceries in the trunk. Lancelot was safely buckled into his car seat with the door open to allow him some air. (Some moms go ahead and start the car to get the air running for their kids, but then I'm afraid someone will jump in the car and drive off with my kid. Maybe I'm paranoid.) My back was to the parking lot, the shopping cart between me and the row of cars behind me. Suddenly I heard a booming voice shout a cheery, "hello!" I think it must be a friend of mine, so I turn around.

A strange man whom I have never seen approaches within 2 feet of me trying to sell me perfume. In a grocery store parking lot. The perfume is in his pocket. Does anyone *else* see any red flags going up here?

I'm terrified, so I immediately want to put some distance between myself and this man, so I step behind the shopping cart so that I can ram him in significant places if he tries anything.

One problem. He is on the passenger side of my car right next to the open door by Lancelot's car seat. I can't get to Lancelot because the cart is between the man and me, and the man is between the cart and my baby.

I told him I wasn't interested in buying perfume.

He laughed and said, "I'm not going to hurt you." He steps closer.

Once again, I tell him I'm not interested. He gets the point and leaves, much to my relief.

Much to my terror (again,) he leaves by way of the passenger side of my car, going right past my baby. I follow him and slam the car door before he can do anything, but he kept walking, thank God.

I don't know. Maybe he really was just trying to sell perfume, but I was terrified out of my wits. I don't usually get that way. I found a security guard and reported the man. Hopefully he was found and brought to justice! (Even if he meant no harm, it's not right to be soliciting in parking lots. Particularly to women who are alone or with babies.)

The bagger offered to carry my groceries out for me, but I declined. I think next time I'll take them up on their offer!

A Moment of Ranting, if I may.

Grr.

Lease restrictions.

Threat of eviction.

All over a lousy satellite dish.

GRRR!

Aggravation of all kinds.

When we moved in, the lovely leasing agent who was so anxious to rent us this apartment told us that of course we could install a satellite dish. We could put it outside by the corner of the building up on a pole. We just couldn't affix it to the building itself. (Either she lied to get us to take the apartment, or she just simply didn't know. Either way, it's not good.)

Foolishly, we believed her. After all, every other building in the apartment complex which was facing the proper direction also had satellite dishes installed on poles outside. And if the leasing agent said it's OK, why should we NOT believe her??

We've had our satellite dish for the better part of a year. A few days ago, we receive a letter stating that we are in violation of our lease agreement and if we do not correct the problem, we will be asked to "vacate the premesis."

We have seven days to become "in compliance." Imagine trying to get service people out to your house within seven days.

Grr.
Miraculously, Hubby arranged for the satellite tv people to come and move our satellite dish to a more appropriate location. They were supposed to arrive between 8 and noon. They showed up at 1:30. They couldn't do what he wanted them to do and said they had to call someone else who had "more advanced training" to come fix this problem.

I have no idea when this "more advanced" person will arrive. Hopefully this more highly trained individual will also have a better handle of the English language.

Grr.

I don't particularly care if we have satellite TV or have to switch to cable, but Hubby just loves his satellite TV, particularly the high-definition channels. He purchased a special HD unit to record the HD shows, we paid a lot of money to have them bring out the HD-ready satellite dish, and now this.

Grr.

Important lesson learned. Always check the terms of your lease before doing anything!!!

On a happier note, Lancelot is doing very well with his new solid foods. We started him on rice cereal, and while his initial reaction wasn't favorable, he now happily eats a generous serving of it twice a day. This afternoon, he sampled carrots for the first time. He didn't eat as much as he does of cereal, but I anticipate that will increase, as well. Once we know carrots are OK, squash and sweet potatos are on the list.

Any funny stories of your babies eating their first solid foods?

Enjoy some photos. I sometimes feed him in the little chair pictured below, other times we lay him across our laps and place a pillow under his head. We find that this allows more food to go into his mouth than to dribble down his chin. (Gravity is a wonderful thing.)

Have a pleasant day!

Ooh! Ooh! Free stuff!

5 minutes for mom is giving away a new Dyson Slim Vacuum Cleaner! Head on over and sign up yourself! Good luck!

April Fool Memories

I stink at playing jokes on people.

In fact, I stink at telling jokes to people.

I often don't get jokes that are told to me.

However, I was part of a really cool April Fool's joke once upon a time.

Come with me down Memory Lane. The year was 1999. I was in Advanced Placement 11th Grade English. We had an incredible teacher and a great group of kids, so while we were doing very challenging work, we mostly had a good time about it. On April 1st, the class walks in to the room to find a copy of The Grapes of Wrath on every desk. (For anyone who hasn't seen a copy of The Grapes of Wrath, it's quite a tome. A very large book. Quite intimidating. Even for 11th Grade AP English students.) Our usually sweet, kindhearted teacher informs us that starting today, we must read this new book, and that our assignments involve a complete outline of every chapter. One outline is due each class period, meaning reading 2 or 3 chapters a week. (We were on an "alternating block schedule," so depending on the week we would meet either 2 or 3 times.) These chapters were LONG. And there were a LOT of them.

Our countenances fell. How could we, even as super 11th grade AP English students, accomplish this monumental task? Our teacher, who is usually so sweet and kindhearted, has turned into a monster!! How could she do this to us? Of course, we completely believe her.

She got us good.

Real good.

After explaining the new "assignment," she asked a student to look at the board and read out loud the date.

We finally got it.

She got us so good, we decided to get her back.

During our lunch period, the entire class went into the guidance counselor's office. We selected a particular counselor who is known for having an excellent sense of humor. We explained what we wanted to do, and she was happy to help us.

She withdrew each and every one of us from 11th Grade AP English and temporarily placed us in the "regular" English class.

She even printed out new class schedules for us, reflecting the changes.

One by one, we went into our English teacher's room and told her we were dropping out of AP English because it was just too hard.

Her countenance fell. She didn't anticipate the ramifications that her little joke would have on her otherwise intelligent, creative 11th Grade AP English students. How could they do this to her? Couldn't they take a little joke?

We got her.

We got her good.

I knew it would happen sooner or later!

It happened.

He fell.

Off the queen-sized bed.

On Dad's watch.

We often prop up Lancelot on the bed in his room while we rummage in his drawers for his clothes. This morning, Dad was caring for Lancelot while I slept in. (We have a deal. On weekends, one day I will wake up when Lancelot does and let Hubby sleep in, the next day we switch.) Today was my day to sleep in. I wake up, hearing a scream. A loud scream. I rush into the nursery to find Hubby gently cradling Lancelot, rocking him back and forth and muttering soothing somethings into his ear. I ask what happened.

"He fell off the bed."

"How?"

"He was propped up against the pillow and fell over."

"Where were you?"

"Looking for a bib."

It astounds me. As I said, we often prop him up against pillows and he's fine. But in the split second in which a parent's back is turned, that's when the kid falls over.

Lancelot is fine. No harm done. He didn't fall on his head, didn't bump the end table on his way down. I told him it was bound to happen sooner or later.

After all, he *is* his father's child!

Everyone's Growing Up!!

Today Lancelot had his 4-month "well baby" checkup and injections.

He's 16 pounds 3 ounces, and is 26 inches long.

He's more than doubled his birthweight and has grown 5 inches.

I used to measure his foot by my first finger. At birth, his foot was exactly the same length as my finger. Now, the tip of my finger comes only to the ball of his foot.

Today, he had his first serving of solid food. A few spoonfuls of rice cereal. Not much, just a few tastes, really, but even so. My baby is eating real FOOD now!

I'm growing up, too. Last week I turned 25. A quarter of a century old!! (My car insurance ought to go down again. And now I can rent a car. Yippee!)

I think there's something about giving birth that causes time to stop. For the mommy, that is. I don't feel like a day has passed since he was born, yet the world goes on around me. Lancelot keeps on growing, birthdays keep coming, seasons keep changing, stocks rise and fall.

Sigh. 2007 is already 1/4 of the way finished. Did 2006 end yet?

Wordless...Monday??

OK, so I know it's supposed to be Wordless Wednesday, but I'm holding a squirming baby in one arm making it hard to type. Enjoy these pics, I'll come back with the stories later!

A Short Break...

...For a family vacation. Hubby's sister from South Africa is here visiting us for a couple of weeks. We'll be at Disneyworld next week, so I may be away from blogging for a short while, but I'm sure I'll come back with plenty of stories for you!

Have a wonderful two weeks everyone! I'll be back soon!

love,
Guinevere and Lancelot

The Gospel According to Lancelot

God likes to teach me lessons in interesting ways. I don't know about you, but I need to see something to understand it. Reading about it doesn't work, listening to someone else talk about it doesn't work, but if you show me what you want me to know, then I'll finally get it.

God used my son the other night to teach me something. I think I shall call the lessons I learn from this little boy "The Gospel According to Lancelot." (Is that sacreligious in any way? I hope not...)

Lancelot was trying to crawl, as seen in the above photo. He's figured out that he needs to move his arms and his legs, but he hasn't figured out how to coordinate those movements in order to propel himself forward. Sometimes he pivots around on his tummy to where he's facing a different direction, but he doesn't actually go anywhere. Last night, I had him on his tummy on the carpet. I sat on the floor in front of him and I put his little duck rattle on the floor, just out of his reach.

He was gazing at the duck rattle intently, determined that he would get it.

He squirmed. He wiggled. He flailed. And yet he got nowhere.

He looked up at me as if to say, "Mommy, can't you bring it closer?"

I didn't. I told him, "You can do it, son. Keep trying."

He kept trying, but still didn't make it. He gave it a darn good try, though. I would have lost patience way before he did.

I watched him struggle to get that duck rattle, and it hit me that we are often like a baby who is desperately trying to get somewhere but just can't quite make it without the help of Mommy or Daddy. God watches us as we learn to move our arms and legs to get where we need to go. He lets us suffer a bit, and he may even let us whimper and whine in consternation.

But after awhile, one of two things will happen:

1. We'll figure out how to get to the rattle, though it may take more time than we'd like and more struggling than we're comfortable with.

2. God will lift us up from the ground, hold us in his lap, and hand us the rattle, and He will take great joy in seeing the happiness in our faces as we look up into His eyes with gratitude.

On What I Should Be Doing Right Now

I should be cooking dinner, but I'm blogging.

I should be straightening up the house for our company arriving in the morning, but I'm blogging.

I should be washing out Lancelot's bottles so I can fill them and have enough for the night, but I'm blogging.

I should go settle Lancelot down because he's whimpering in his crib (I think the bear mobile probably stopped,) but I'm blogging.

(I was right. The bear mobile stopped. I turned it back on. Now I'll have at least 5 more minutes of quiet, and hopefully he'll fall asleep for his evening nap.)

I should call up my friend who lives in Tampa that I haven't seen since October, but I'm blogging.

I should call my grandmother. Her little cat passed away last night, but I'm blogging.

I have too much else to do to be sitting at the computer blogging. When I arrive at the Pearly Gates and my life is examined, I don't want this current hour burnt away as wheat and chaff.

Have a lovely evening, everyone. I have some important things to do with my time which will make a more lasting impression than blogging.

Not that blogging doesn't matter. It's fabulous.

But I have a grandmother to call, a meal to prepare for my family, and a home to make ready for a guest.

Those things win.

See you later!

Midnight Revelations

"One of the secrets to a happy marriage is remembering the source of our joy, which is not one another. The source of our joy is the Lord. Yes, we share tons of joyous moments, but we don't expect, let alone demand, endless joy-filled moments from each other. "
~ Liz Curtis Higgs ~
from the devotional: Rise and Shine
Good morning, everyone.

It's 2 A.M. and I can't sleep.

Hubby's fast asleep, Lancelot's fast asleep, I'm sure most of you are asleep, and yet my brain just won't shut up. Thoughts keep running through it, thoughts that demand my attention. These aren't the thoughts that float by peacefully, lulling the thinker into a deep, comfortable sleep. These are the thoughts which require close attention, analysis, and reflection.

So I stumbled into the office, logged into bloglines, and saw that Darlene had updated her blog. I received my copy of her book, The Mom Complex today (thanks for sending it out so quickly! Can't wait to devour it!) so I checked her blog out first, and I saw a wonderful post about the quote seen above. At the end of her post, she invites her readers to also write a post about the quote. Seeing as some of my attention-requiring, eyelid-opening thoughts were somewhat related, I thought I'd take a shot at it.

I have a husband who often gets frustrated. He gets frustrated for valid reasons, and most of the time I have nothing to do with it. However, I seem to have a problem. I take it personally when he's upset. It's a very bad problem. It might be something at work, something with one of his family members, financial worries, or any other matter of difficulty. I often experience these same emotions. I get upset when I open the fridge and there aren't any cold Cokes in there for me. When I make a business call, I despise being put on hold. I have no patience for calling customer service and find myself speaking with someone in another country who barely speaks English. I can justify my frustration and anger, yet I don't want my husband to feel those same things.

It doesn't make any sense.

When I read this quote, I realized that I had been expecting my husband to be my source of joy. Reading what Liz had to say was like God thumping me on the head. In a good way. It's simply unfair for me to expect my husband to be happy and smiling all the time. People get mad. They grunt and make noises. Sometimes papers get thrown across the room or a door gets slammed.

But that doesn't mean my husband is a bad person, and it certainly doesn't mean my marriage is in trouble, which is what I had convinced myself was happening.

I need to remember that God is my source of joy.

My husband may be my best friend and lover, but God is my Father and Lover of my soul.

My husband is my partner in life, but God is the author of my life.

My husband's snoring might keep me from sleeping, but when God needs to get my attention about something, He keeps me awake until I get it.

Thanks for the thump, God. I think I can get some rest now.

A Beautiful Day for a Boatride

Sunday was just gorgeous.

A perfect day.

Blue skies, not too hot, not too humid.

Our friend has a boat.

This friend hadn't taken his boat out in several months.

We remedied that on Sunday.

At first, Lancelot didn't care to wear his little life jacket. It swallowed him up, and he looked a bit like the Michelin Man. He got used to it after awhile, and was fine.

We boated up and down our little section of the Intracoastal Waterway, just inside the eastern coast of Florida. (That's where all the millionaires and billionaires have their mansions where they don't actually live...) It was such a gorgeous day, that I think pretty much everyone who owned a boat or knew someone who owned a boat was out on their boats that day. See, pretty soon here in Florida it will get ridiculously hot. Then only people who are vacationing in Florida even dare to go outside. The locals very smartly stay in the air conditioning, where we won't shrivel up and/or melt.

Here's actually a picture of me with my son. Since I usually do the picture taking, there is an unfair ratio of pictures with Dad to pictures with Mom. I just whip out the camera and take a picture whenever the whim strikes me, but I must instruct my husband when I want a photograph with me in it. If only husbands could read our minds. Sigh.

Buyer's Remorse

I'm such a hypocrite.

I tell hubby, "We don't really need that right now...it'll just contribute to our credit card debt."

"If we stop using the credit cards, we could use the money we WERE spending to pay them off to set aside a down payment for a house..."

" WHY do you need that again?"

So then, I spend $15 here, $10 here, $40 here on stuff that I don't really need, but I rationalize it because it's on sale, because it's something for the baby, because I'm not wearing maternity clothes anymore and I really need that new dress.

Grr.

I went into my favorite store today and I had a coupon. Great, I thought. I can get something to wear for Lancelot's christening in two weeks.

Did I?

No. But I did get a tank top, two necklaces, and a dress to wear that'll look GREAT when we go out to dinner with friends tonight, but wouldn't really be appropriate for an infant baptism.

This isn't the exact dress I purchased, but it's in this same style. It's that pink color with a black print. I love it.

Should I take the stuff back?

It was on sale...

Omnipotent Baby

I know all.

I see all.

I will use my knowledge against you.

When you are sitting down to enjoy your lunch, I will wake up from my nap screaming.

When you finally manage to sit down at the computer and catch up on some blogs, I will wake up from my nap screaming.

After you finish the laundry, do the dishes, and return phone calls and think you have a few minutes to crash on the couch and take a breather, I will wake up from my nap screaming.

When you are ready to go out the door to meet Damselfly at the mall, I'll fill up my diaper.

When you are halfway through your shower and you've just applied shampoo to your head, I will begin shrieking from my bouncy chair, causing you to leap out of the shower in utter fear of my discomfort.

When you want to take me for a walk in the stroller, I'll decide I don't like the stroller anymore, but only once you're twenty minutes away from the house and can't do anything about it until we get back home.

And when you sit down to feed me, I'll gaze into your eyes and make that little cooing sound you find so adorable, and your heart will melt.

And you'll forgive me for waking up from my nap screaming.

The Baby/Time Continuum...

..."these are the voyages of the Starship Mommy...to explore new worlds, to boldly go where no woman has gone before..."

OK, I admit it. I'm a Trekkie.

I've never gone to a convention, never dressed as a Klingon, but I love love love watching re-runs of Star Trek: The Next Generation, Voyager, and Deep Space Nine.

I particularly like the episodes in which the crew members find themselves in a "temporal anomaly." In such occurrences, crew members get caught up in time loops, experiencing the same events again and again, or people/planets/species/worlds get wiped out from history and change the course of evolution, etc etc etc. Then of course our fearless crew solves the mystery and saves the galaxy.

I'm experiencing my own "temporal anomaly." With the advent of having a baby, a woman's concept of time is totally, utterly, changed. Instead of days passing in hours, days pass in burps, poos, and naps. Instead of weeks being marked by particular events, (Sunday we go to church, Monday we have band practice, Thursday we go out for burgers,) they are measured in inches of baby growth. Instead of months being measured in weeks, they are measured in developmental milestones.

While a day still has 24 hours in it, I seem not to get as much done. But that depends on how you look at it. I may not get the laundry finished and dinner cooked, but I've contributed to the physical, intellectual, and emotional development of a tiny little person. I'd say that's a pretty big accomplishment!

Lancelot was born on November 28th, 2006. How can it possibly be March already? And yet, how can it be that he hasn't been here forever?

It's a paradox. A temporal anomaly.

Can anyone truly conceive of the meaning of time? If you can, I'd love to be enlightened...

Missed Milestones

I missed it.

My son rolled over for the first time, and I missed it.

Wah.

Hubby and I were running around like chickens with our heads cut off, getting ready to leave for a church function last night. Lancelot was having tummy time in the living room, in plain sight of us, and he chose the exact moment that both of us were looking the other direction to roll over onto his back.

Sneaky little kid.

Photo Tag!

Well, here ya go.

I've jumped on the bandwagon and added my own pregnant belly shot.

I was 28 weeks preggers in this here photo. Actually, you can't tell, but Damselfly was standing next to me in this photo. (I haven't had a chance to ask her yet for her permission to post a photo of her on my blog, so I took myself out. Damselfly, if you don't mind, I'll put the original shot up.) This was taken shortly before her Flybaby was born. While I look happy in this photo, I was actually quite jealous because while she was days away from her due date and I had three months to go, I looked WAY more pregnant than she did. (Some gals have all the luck. Hmph. Damselfly, I forgive you!! lol!)

A Wee Bit of an Identity Crisis

*If you're here from the Ultimate Blog Party, Welcome! Click here for my introductory post.*

Having a baby has changed my world. In so many ways! It has made me re-learn and re-evaluate everything that used to be normal and predictable.

Including my identity.

3 months ago, I was part of a couple. Now I am part of a family.

3 months ago, I was a college student who happened to have a very large belly. Now I am not doing anything even remotely academic. (And the belly is shrinking by the week. Hallelujah!)

3 months ago, I was free as a bird. Now I have to make special arrangements far in advance if I want to go off and do something alone.

3 months ago, I didn't know the joy of having and loving a child. Now, my heart is so full it is overflowing!

3 months ago, I got to decide when to go to bed and when to wake up. Now, I can throw away the alarm clock because my child now decides these things for me.

3 months ago, I was easily bored. Now, I always have my own personal entertainment!

3 months ago, I didn't think there was anything special about a person being able to move their head. Now, as I watch my son lift his head when he is on his tummy, I praise him and cheer him as though he just won the Olympic Gold Medal in head-lifting!

3 months ago, I referred to myself as "(my real name)", "me" or "I." Now, I almost always refer to myself in the third-person as "Mommy."

So this leaves me in a bit of a conundrum. Am I still the person I was before? Well, yes. However, the meaning of "me" has taken on entirely new dimensions.

Do I long for the time when I can once again just grab my purse, jump in the car, and go? Sure. But if I did that, it would mean that my son wouldn't exist. (And in a few short years, I will once again have this freedom.)

Do I wish I could sleep late whenever I wanted to? Absolutely, but that would mean never getting to hold my son in my arms and give him his bottle. (When he's in school, he'll be able to turn on the TV on Saturday mornings and watch cartoons.)

While I am still the same person I once was, I sure feel different. Sometimes it's a good feeling, other times it's not so great.

When it doesn't feel so great, I look into the eyes of my 3-month old boy and he smiles at me.

Then, once again, all is right with the world and I am able to embrace the new "me."

Sweet, Sweet Slumber

He did it!

It's official!!

He slept all the way through the night.

As in, we put him to bed and he didn't wake up until the sun was out.

Praise God, Hallelujah!

Let's hope this continues!

It's a Party, Mommy-Style!

Hey, come on and join us over at the Ultimate Blog Party!! Join in too, and win a prize! Meet new friends! Get noticed! Let your hair down and have some FUN!

I've got a good party game. 20 Questions!! (Well, we'll make it ten to save space!)

1. Who are you?

I'm Guinevere Meadow. Well, that's not my real name, but it's a lovely pseudonym, wouldn't you agree?? I'll be 25 later this month. I am the wife of Hubby and the mommy of Lancelot. (Also not his real name.)

2. Who is Lancelot?

He is my 3-month old son, the love of my life, and the thorn in my side. Just kidding about the thorn part.

3. Why should I read this blog?

Why not?

4. What do you do in your spare time?

Spare what? I don't know what this is...lol!! In the few moments I find to myself, I enjoy reading, blogging, singing, playing games on our new Nintendo Wii, and watching episodes of Voyager that we've saved on our TiVO.

5. Who is Jesus Christ?

The Saviour of the World. The Son of God. The Lamb of God. The Alpha and Omega, Beginning and End. Wonderful counsellor, Almighty God and Everlasting Father.

6. Do you go to church?

Practically every time the doors are open, and sometimes when they're not. (We have a key. lol!)

7. What do you do there?

Other than attending services, I sing in a band called Renanah which does music for the Saturday night service, we socialize there, we eat there, we have picnics there, we join bible studies there, and we participate in an annual reenactment of Bethlehem.

8. What is your favorite color?

Red

9. What is your quest?

To find the Holy Grail of blogging.

10. What is the air-speed velocity of a laden swallow?

African or European?

For anyone who does not know the reference of the last three questions, I suggest you go rent a copy of Monty Python and the Holy Grail. It's frikkin' hilarious. (And it's great to quote one-liners at parties!! lol!)

Letter To My Son

My dear, sweet, small son,

Tomorrow you will be 3 months old! While on one hand it seems like you've been here forever, it also seems like just yesterday when I saw two pink lines on the pregnancy test.

Already you have doubled your birthweight, can hold objects, laugh and smile, and now you can start to pick your head up during "tummy time." These precious days pass so quickly!

I've taken a hundred photographs to remember the way you look.

I've shot hours of video footage to remember how you move and the way you sound.

But how can I bottle up the way I feel when I hold you close, rocking and singing your favorite lullabies?

How can I capture the fragrance of your skin and hair after your evening baths?

Is there a way to store the melting of my heart when you look up at me and smile?

Can I record the joy of cuddling a warm baby?

One day, you won't want to be held and rocked.

One day, you will be too big for your baby tub and you'll be taking showers.

One day, my kisses will embarrass you, and you won't like being called "Sweetie Pie Punkin' Bug."

I'd better enjoy these moments while I can, because one day you'll be all grown up and won't need your Mommy anymore.

But for now, I get to hold you, rock you, feed you, bathe you, giggle and smile at you, make funny faces at you, and laugh with you.

I can smother you in kisses and make silly baby sounds at you.

I love you, my son. More than you'll ever know.

First Hockey Game!

Last night, we got a taste of how the other half lives. (Crazy Bloggin' Canuck, you're not the only one! lol!)

We got to see a Florida Panther hockey game in box seats. For free.

Hubby works for a very large company. He is on the team that decides which computer software to purchase for the whole company. They have been regular customers of Symantec (formerly Norton.) Anyway, the Symantec guys wanted to express their appreciation to our guys, so they gave Hubby and his team tickets to watch the hockey game in their private box. It included free food, free drinks, and as you can see, visits from the Panther Ice Dancers.

We enjoyed our evening out very much. Lancelot was so good! I was a little nervous that people would scowl at us, bringing a baby into a private box like that, but everyone was so nice and friendly, and Lancelot just won everybody's hearts!!

They grow up so fast!!

*Sniffle, sniffle*

Can someone hand me a tissue, please?

Yesterday I had to pack away Lancelot's newborn baby clothes. Every single item of clothing had some memory attached to it: "This is what he wore on the day he first smiled!" "He wore this little hat the first time we took him to our Bible study." "These are the socks he always kicked off!" "This is the onesie he pooped all over..." etc etc etc.

I'm sure I shed a tear or two.

On the brighter side, this means he can now wear all the cute 3-month size clothes that he received as gifts at the baby shower. The adorable little rompers that have been hanging in the closet, just waiting for Lancelot to wear them! The blue-and-white striped little cap that used to come down over his eyes is now a perfect fit! The cute teddy bear t-shirt and short set I found at a garage sale months before he was born!

I think I'm going to make a point of photographing him in each outfit the first time he wears them, so I'll be able to remember how he looked in all his baby clothes without digging through a plastic tub. All I'll have to do is open the photo album!

It's amazing how little use he got out of the clothes. It made me realize how silly it is to pay big bucks for baby clothes. Some stuff he never even GOT to wear because it was mis-sized! The sleepers that are marked 3-6 months but which are too tight in the arms and legs. Stuff like that.

E-Bay and thrift stores, here I come!

Of Dexterity and Clumsiness

My motor skills have improved since having a baby.

I can do things one-handed. I can hold the baby, get a jug of milk out of the fridge, close the fridge door with my foot, pour a glass of milk, put the milk back in the fridge, and do all of this without dropping the baby.

That's incredible.

I can keep my balance while carrying Lancelot in his carseat, walking down the stairs with a diaper bag on one shoulder, a purse on the other, and keys in my hands.

Amazing!

And yet I trip over my shoes while walking to the bathroom. No baby in my arms, no diaper bag dangling from my shoulder.

I'm a dexterous clutz. I think I'll start a club. All mothers of infants are welcome to join.

Got Milk? (Or, "Ode to My Mammary Glands")

Relactate: (v) 1. The process of re-establishing one's milk supply

2. A desperate attempt at becoming a better mother

Well ladies, after 2 months of not nursing Lancelot, I have decided to try and trick my body into producing milk once again. See, after little Lancelot was born, we had a miserable time of it. Due to biological/physical factors on both our parts, recovering from surgery and a nasty case of post-partum depression, it was just a lot easier to switch to formula and forget the whole shabang.

Now, however, after some time has passed and we have settled into somewhat of a routine, I am confident that I would be able to breastfeed the little guy. I learned that women whose babies are under 4 months old and who had established a milk supply before are generally successful at getting the process started again.

It means lots of pumping. Lots. Pumping isn't so much fun to begin with, but when you're sitting at a machine tugging at your boobs for days on end and you're only managing to squeeze out a few drops, it gets kinda depressing! However, this morning I was able to get more than a few drops-- not much more, but they were of sufficient volume to drip down into the bottle! Woohoo! And that telltale breast tenderness of the early days has returned. Hope has been restored!

I have a specific goal, too. In about a month, we are taking a family Disney trip- me, hubby, Lancelot, my parents and sister, and hubby's sister-- and I so don't want to be lugging my Medela Pump-In-Style through the Magic Kingdom. Ducking into the bathrooms every two hours-- there's an attraction not mentioned in the brochure!! I suppose I could bring my Avent Isis hand pump. Imagine this: standing in line for Splash Mountain, pumping away. I've got my own splashing action going on!

So this week, I am taking a "nursing holiday." I will be staying home as much as possible, attaching the girls to their good friend Medela every two hours, and walking around in a nursing bra, trying to get Lancelot to latch on whenever he can/feels like it.

If I haven't seen progress by the end of the week, I may reevaluate my decision. There's only so much "dry pumping" one can take.

(It will be interesting to see the bizarre google searches that will turn up this blog in their results! lol!)

Is there a method to the madness?

The subject of today's post is...naptime.

My sweet little Lancelot loves to sleep. A lot. At unpredictable times. I am so fortunate that he already sleeps 7 hours at night (hallelujah!!), but daytime napping is an entirely different story. One day, he took 6 30-minute naps. The next day, 3 45-minute naps. Yesterday, a 2 hour nap and a 3 hour nap. Some days he'll sleep 5 or 10 minutes off and on the whole day long!

The only discernable pattern thus far is for his first nap of the day. Generally, he'll wake up around 6:30-7:00am, be up for an hour, and then go down for a nap. Sometimes 20 minutes, yesterday for 2 1/2 more hours! So while I can't count on the length of his nap, I can usually count on him going down for a nap after an hour or so.

For the rest of the day, there's no telling what to expect.

I was wondering, do most babies eventually fall into a predictable napping pattern? If so, when does this take place? If I knew when he was going to nap, it would be so much easier to plan my day!

He's napping now, so I'm off to watch the rest of my Voyager episode off my TiVO, and to finish the pumping session that was so rudely interrupted. :)

Have a lovely day!

I'm Ba-Ack!

Greetings, Blogosphere!

I have returned from the land of new-mommyhood and am beginning to resume some of my previous activities, modified of course to accommodate a 2 1/2 month old baby.

Lancelot is, as you have noticed if you read the above sentence, 2 1/2 months old. He is laughing, cooing, holding up his head, and starting to reach for objects, and I am the happiest mommy on the face of the planet.



Then, he'll screw up his face, poke out his lower lip, and start wailing. Then I'm the most frustrated mommy on the face of the planet.

That's what is so interesting about motherhood-- it is the happiest of times, and it is the aggravating-est of times.

Can I get an amen?

Fortunately, I am not alone in my new journey. Damselfly has helped me out a great deal, giving me advice, sharing coffee at Starbucks, and going for walks in our local park. I tell ya, it sure helps to have someone else along with you when you become a new mommy. Kind of like having a workout buddy. Strength in numbers, I say.

She told me that I'm not a bad mother because I forgot to buckle up Lancelot's car seat.

She taught me that nuclear explosive poos which are expelled out the back of the diaper and all over a baby's back are normal and are no reason to call the pediatrician.

She showed me how much babies love gadgets like the Rainforest Jumperoo.

Her little Flybaby and Lancelot are going to grow up to be great friends.



And most of all, she listened to me cry and moan when I thought I just couldn't handle this whole mommy thing, because she had been there, too, and assured me it would pass and that I would be a great mommy.

I don't know if I'm a great mommy, but the crying and moaning has indeed passed.

Hallelujah.

He's here!!

My little Lancelot arrived on Tuesday, November 28th at 6:21 p.m. He was 7 pounds and 14 ounces, and was 21 inches long.

Late Monday night, contractions started. The REAL ones. I decided to go to bed and get as much rest as I could, since I knew I had an ordeal ahead of me! Sleep never came, but I sat in my bathtub, listening to my "slow and sweet" mix on my mp3 player. I also went to the recliner, sat on my birth ball, all sorts of things. I called my doula at 1 am, and she talked me through some of the rougher contractions. I was able to calm myself down and get through a couple more hours.

6 am Tuesday morning, the water breaks. It's not running clear. Lancelot decided to pass meconium in utero, so we rush to the hospital. I was planning on having a water birth, but because of this particular complication, they have to keep me on a fetal heart monitor, so no tub for Guinevere!

7 am Tuesday morning, I'm settled into my room at the hospital. I'm pretty relaxed, considering I've already been in labor for quite some time. I have my husband, my mother, and my doula with me the whole time, and between the three of them, they keep me calm enough so that I don't ask for pain medication until 4 pm.

5 pm Tuesday evening, I've been pushing for 3 hours and little Lancelot is stuck tight. He's not moving down the birth canal. They decide to do a C-Section. While this is quite far from my original plan, I was totally relieved to know that in a matter of an hour or so, I would have my baby!

6 pm Tuesday evening, they take me to the O.R. They give me a spinal, and the pain of the past 18 hours MELTS away. (Had I known how good this was going to be, I SO would have asked for it earlier!! Natural birth, my a**. Ha!)

6:21, my little boy is born! Because of the meconium in the amniotic fluid, the neonatalogist has to see him right away, so I don't see my little baby immediately. Hubby does; he gets to cut the cord. He has our digital camera, so he snaps a picture of the little guy and brings it over to me while they start closing me up. Can you imagine? I see a photograph of my baby before I see the baby!!

About an hour later, they're done sewing me up and the spinal is wearing off. I go back to the recovery room where I get to hold my baby at last. He is the most beautiful thing I have ever looked at in my whole life. Until this moment, I had no idea what love was.

Tomorrow, Lancelot will be 2 weeks old! He is a very good baby, not terribly fussy, and sleeps like the dead. Yes, he wakes up every 2-3 hours for food and a poop, but other than that, nothing in the world will wake up this child unless he WANTS to be awake! This causes some problems, but I have to admit it's making the adjustment home much easier.

We're off to a doctor appointment now- a pediatric cardiologist- his pediatrician heard a heart murmur at his first well-baby checkup, and wants us to have it checked out. She assures us that it's quite normal in newborns to have this, but I'm still a little nervous!

Have a great day, everyone!

Random Acts of Kindness

While I often moan and groan about how rude people can be to pregnant women, I have often experienced random acts of kindness from strangers.

For example, I was walking across my college campus last week for the one class I'm taking this semester, and a young college-guy actually held open a door for me. Wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles! Usually when I trek across Acadamia, I seem to disappear-- which is odd, considering my increased size. Generally, the college campus is the one place I could count on NOT receiving rude comments, because the general population of a college tends to be frightened by the sight of a pregnant woman, as if I would somehow contaminate them. Anyhoo. For the first time all semester, a young man of which I have no acquaintance saw me and was kind enough to hold open not one but two doors for me! I was simply astounded.

Additionally, I have experienced increased empathy from the baggers at the local supermarket. I shop at Publix, which boasts that "Carryout is a Publix service." How nice. Before I became pregnant, rarely was there a time in which the bagger actually offered to assist me to my car. Now, however, even if I only have three bags, they are always so eager to carry them out for me! So of course I take advantage of it! (I only wish they could help me all the way to my apartment and up the flight of stairs, into my kitchen, and put them away too! lol!)

Another time, (again at the college campus,) I had to park a LOOOOONG way from the building entrance. A young woman saw me, smiled, and said, "They should have parking for expectant mothers up front!" That made me laugh. I thought of the store Babies R Us, which actually DOES-- next the handicapped parking spaces, there are two or three spaces with a sign designating them "Stork Parking: Expectant Mothers Only." I LOVE that! Every parking lot should offer such spaces.

*Smile* I am now 8 days away from my due date!! I'm trying my best to look back at my pregnancy and call up the happiest memories. I would much rather remember the kindnesses I have been shown than the rude comments and unpleasant physical aspects of pregnancy! If anyone wants to share their "happy pregnancy" stories, I'd love to hear them!

When I can't think of a good post title, I'll just call it "Bob."

Pregnancy is just one amazing discovery after another of bizarre and wonderful things one's body is capable of doing.

For as long as I can remember, I have had oily skin. I suffered from wretched acne in high school, which calmed down as I grew up but never completely went away. Then, I became pregnant, and BAM! I looked like a 13-year old again. Gah.

Then came the second trimester. My skin cleared up beautifully, I had never had such a clear complexion. I was loving it!

Now, in the final weeks, my face has dried up and is cracking and peeling like the desert floor. If I squint when I look in the mirror, I can see tumbleweeds traveling across my face, and I hear the theme from Rawhide in my head. Also, my back is now covered in pimples. What on earth??!! Pimples on my BACK?

It seems to me that my body just can't decide which parts of it want to be oily and which parts want to be dry. Although I suppose if I'm going to have zits, I would much rather have them on my back where no one can see them.

Thankfully, I find myself amused by my body's antics. I only have a couple more weeks of weirdness, and then my body should return to its previous state. Hopefully!

In other news, my friend is coming over today to decorate our nursery. She is a professional interior decorator, and her baby gift to us is for her to come make a beautiful room for our little baby! I'm so excited. I'm going to go take a "before" picture, and when she's done I'll take an "after" picture and show the miracles she has wrought.

I hope everyone has a lovely day!

Dilation, Effacement, and The Waiting Game

It seems like I'm always hearing the Jeopardy! theme song in my head these days. I feel like I'm watching the grass grow, or the paint dry.

It's the Waiting Game. I am now just past 37 weeks, and according to my doctor, my cervix is beginning to open up and thin out (in other words, "dilation" and "effacement" have begun!) so things could get exciting any day now! Every time I have a Braxton-Hicks contraction, I'm willing it to be productive, to open things up a little bit more. (Or, to "dilate" and "efface" a little bit more! Don't you just love all the big medical words??!!) The Doc says the more work gets done through Braxton Hicks, the less I have to do while in labor-- and that sure sounds good to me!

Today, I haven't had many Braxton-Hicks. Pooie. Nothing getting accomplished down there today. (In other words, no dilation or effacement for me today!) I guess my cervix is taking a day off. How nice for my cervix. I suppose it's saving its strength for the next session of grueling dilation and effacement. It is resting up, preparing for its next feat of athletic endurance and prowess, as it completely changes from its current physical state.

Imagine what it must be like for the poor dear. For nine months, there it has been, closing off the uterus, protecting dear little Lancelot. Now, it is being asked to stretch far beyond its current shape and size, and on TOP of all that, to thin out a whole bunch, too! (How many of us can expand and thin out simultaneously??!! I sure can't! Kudos to cervixes everywhere! By the way- what IS the proper way to pluralize the word "cervix?")

Well, dear readers, I'm off to enjoy a lovely Italian dinner with some friends. I hope you all have a wonderful weekend!


ps- for any of you readers who are ALSO playing the waiting game, I'm sending wide-open, thinned-out cervix-y thoughts your way!!

Things to Smile About

Today I thought I would compose a list of things that have caused me to smile in these last few weeks. These are things that would not normally be spectacularly wonderful, but being 36 weeks pregnant, these things have become nearly miraculous. Enjoy!

1. Last night, I slept 4 1/2 hours straight without waking up to go to the bathroom.

2. I actually got through an evening at church without anyone commenting on the size of my belly.

3. Feeling giddy and excited from ordering a car seat base, as though I was actually ordering, say, a high definition television , or hundreds of dollars worth of my favorite candles.

4. Sugar-free ice cream

5. Laying in bed reading all afternoon while DH built shelves for the nursery.

6. Setting up a diaper-changing station in my bedroom. Again, it made me giddy. Why? Why should the equivalent of a toilet sitting out in my bedroom be a happy thing? Well, it was.

7. At my last doctor visit, I hadn't gained any weight from the previous visit. Yippee! (Although the previous visit was only a week before. In normal life, one generally wouldn't gain a lot of weight in only a week! lol!)

Heaven...I'm in Heaven...

Do y'all remember a little while ago when I was talking about my middle-of-the-night emotional breakdown? I begged my husband to have "a day off from being pregnant" remember? Well, today I got to do that.

I went for a pre-natal massage today.

'Nuff said.