the little h

I love to talk about Haven, but sometimes I try to bite my tongue and remember that not everyone is as obsessed with him and Dave and I are. BUT, since this is my blog and you click away if you wish, I will devote this post to a list of things about him:

(Here is with grandpa, whom he obviously loves.)

When he's tired, he can't handle anything and everything is a crisis. His face scrunches up and he throws his head into my chest.

He only cries if he's hungry or tired or sick.

He loves his aunts and they can make him laugh until he almost hyperventilates.

I think I've spoiled him with organic baby food. Beech Nut was on a great sale, so I bought a few jars and he will have nothing to do with them.

He has no teeth, which is perfectly fine, because he still nurses sometimes.

He loves blueberries.

Ever since Cricket (our kitten) joined the family, he had a new level of motivation to locomote.

He is afraid of dolls.

He is not only unafraid, but intrigued by heights.

He reads people. I find he likes the same people I do and is wary of the same people that I am. Maybe he's just copying me, but I think he's got a sense for people. (Maybe that's just me being a mom and thinking everything my child does is amazing, but, maybe not.)

He wants people to recognize how cute he is. He stares and makes faces until someone makes a fuss over him.

Sometimes he moans "mamamamama" when he is unhappy.

He loves to lounge back and put his feet up - in the high chair, in the shopping cart and in the stroller.

(In this pic he's with Aunt Rebecca.)

I always thought babies were pretty cute, but I had no idea they could have real personalities at such a young age.

Dave ... want to add anything?

Friends

A house becomes a home once it hold memories.

We had our first weekend guests - Janet, Andy and their two boys. We managed to keep their boys (ages 2 and 4) from rappelling off of our loft and Haven from getting trampled. Haven was thrilled to have little people around, I was thrilled to have big people around. We talked and played games and ate; our typical routine.

Janet and Andy are some of our only friends our age with kids. As I've mentioned, Janet and I were coworkers as teenagers, then roommates and have been great friends for years. One thing we have always done together is laugh. We were in tears, laughing about how much we sometimes crave a break or some time to ourselves. She said that she sometimes wishes she would get sick enough to stay in bed for a couple of days. I said I was looking forward to when we have our next baby because I will get to relax in the hospital for 3 or 4 days. A child brings such a dichotomy of sheer love and total exhaustion. It's confounding, isn't it?

Janet and I did get a nice break on Saturday afternoon when we painted the town red and left the three boys with the Daddies. After we shopped, I showed Janet our one and only cute local coffee shop. Dinner was almost done when we got back and all of the boys were happy (kids and adults). I think we've got it pretty g-o-o-d. This picture of us is pretty old, but lately the only people that make it into our photo shoots are under 3 feet tall. >>

Later, the four of us were talking wistfully about getting away with just our husband or wife for the weekend. We were talking about how magical it would be to sleep in one or two mornings. Janet laughed and said, "Listen to us! We can't wait to get away alone together so that we can sleep." This was when Andy made the brilliant comment: "Sleep is the new sex." Nobody could disagree with that one. We're just in that phase of life where sleep is the rarest treasure.

Thanks for visit, friends! Happy parenting ... and happy zzz's.

Baby Laughs

Probably best as a gift at a baby shower, this book is easy read. It's ideal for the new-mommy-brain-haze. I read it in one day and though I love to read, I'm typically kind of slow. It reads like an email from your best friend; irreverent, honest and what would be too much information if it were from anyone else.

Since my first year of motherhood is coming to an end (Haven is 10 months old already!), there were stories that brought back memories (that I've probably supressed) and others that made me say, "Oh thank God that didn't happen to me" (e.g. hemorrhoids).

Motherhood is such a common experience. It doesn't matter what your life is like, where you live or who you are. I think ALL new moms experience certain situations. For example: waking up at night to make sure the baby is still breathing, desperately hoping you are making the healthiest choices for your baby, feeling nestalgia about your pre-baby marriage, feeling a sense of protection and responsibility you could not have imagined.

Baby Laughs is a fun read, especially if you are in the baby phase. If you're headed to a baby shower, pick it up at Borders, where I found it on the bargain table for $3.

No professional housecleaner, so...

When I was working full time, I could not justify a cleaning person because we lived in a 4 room apartment and Dave did half the cleaning. Now that we are in a house, I can't justify hiring somebody to clean because I only work 2 days a week. One day I will find a way to justify one by either working more hours or earning more than a dollar when I do work. But in the meantime...

I need some help. Not to get all Susie Homemaker ... well, actually, maybe I need to. Here's a little secret: I don't know how to clean. Scratch that. I sort of do know how to clean. I don't know how to get motivated to clean. A schedule maybe? A reward system for myself (e.g. no ice cream until I do my chores - be my own mother, for example). You will hopefully not know this about me, as I do clean for company. But I'd like to maintain a neat, clean house for us.

I'm not sure why some people are able to keep their house super clean while other people (myself, for example) feel it is a constant struggle. Do the clean-house people clean all the time? What's the deal? Give me your secrets!

So, when I do clean, I vacume. And call it a day. Or I clean the kitchen, and leave the bathroom. It's never all done at once. I've heard people say to clean as you go - do I just need to get into that habit? How?

Tell me, what do you do? Cleaning tips, motivational tips and phone numbers to free cleaning services all welcome.

(And don't make fun of me - I know most people probably figured out this stuff out in their first apartment, but I had Janet the Super Cleaner for a roommate, so I didn't learn much.)

Self Care

Last night my professor talked about therapist self care. I actually cancelled an appointment so that I wouldn't miss class. Because I'm not very good at self care, I knew this would be an importat class to attend.

The burn out rate in the health field (mental or physical) is large. Lots of professionals can talk the talk without walking the walk. We teach stress management skills, but do we practice them? Our culture is all about burn out. What are you supposed to say when a job interviewer asks you to "Name one of your weaknesses." The textbook answer is, "I work too hard." Um, an employer may like the idea of exploiting this weakness so you might get the job, but it's really not a trait to be proud of.

A big part of self care is to recognize your priorities. What brings you the most satisfaction when you do it well? My professor had us take five pieces of paper and write on each piece a role we have in our life. She then told us to take one away, imagine that role was not a part of our life any longer. Which would we lose first? Second? Third? She did this until we had only two in front of us. These roles, she said, are the ones we find most fulfilling. These are the ones that can't wait while we attend to Number 4 or 5. So many times, we put first what we think is vital. It was a simple exercise, but it struck me when she said: Those last roles are the roles in which to excel. Maybe you will be average in the roles you threw out, and sometimes being average is okay, it's good. This was quite an earful for me, as I like to be the best at everything I do. It was good though, it was like she said, "So, go ahead and toss the guilt for not being perfect in every little tiny thing you attempt to do in your life."

My final two pieces of paper read wife and mother. I like to think of myself as a feminist. But, the truth is, if I am the best mother I can be and have as strong a marriage as possible, I will be satisfied with my life. (The core of the feminist message is to be who you want to be regardless of social obligation anyway, right? So I'm good.) I love to be a counselor, and that was a hard one for me to crinkle up. However, it isn't going to bring me more joy than my relationships with Dave, Haven (and the babies to come). If I'm an average counselor, that might be okay. (Maybe - I'm still processing that one.) I won't settle for an average marriage or being an average mother.

So, that's what I got out of the self care talk. Oh, and one other thing, which I think is truly interesting: my professor discussed some studies that have been done about depression. In many studies, exercise has been proven as effected as medication to relieve depression. It may sound like inverse logic, but being physically active can lead to a quieter mind. So, when I say walk with me, I mean, stay well with me.

New family member

To follow up on the last entry, I did make it home from the cat lady's house. Do you know the Bible verse that says something about God whispering in your ear to tell you which way to go? I think that was meant for drivers with no sense of direction.

Allow me to introduce you to Ricketty Cricket, our half persian baby kitten. He is so sweet, just wants to cuddle, and purrs instantly when I pick him up. His legs turn into springs when I put him on the floor and he instantly returns to my lap. He reminds me of Haven. Cricket also proves to have well-honed babysitting skills. In a way. Haven could watch that kitten run around the living for a long time. An HOUR to be exact. He was in his jumper giggling and running in circles, completely content for an entire hour. Suweeet.

me in a nutshell. (help! i'm in a nutshell!)

The home front...

Last night Haven and I picked up our new baby kitten. He is orange with pretty markings along his back. I didn't think I'd be happy to have a cat - I have enough people to clean up after, I don't need an animal - but since I am afraid of mice in the house, we got one. Turns out, he's a very sweet little guy. So, I love him. Took about 3 seconds.

The kitten came from a woman who I found on craigslist. She lives in an area with no highways. My friend Tara came with me when we went to meet the kitty and give a deposit (whatever happened to free to a good home?), but this time, I was on my own. We got there just fine; I had a death grip on my google directions. However, my brain cannot read directions backwards and I forgot to print out reverse directions. There are about 12 turns from the cat lady's house to the highway. Add a screaming, hungry baby in the backseat and a nervous kitten in my lap (forgot a bottle and a box). You do the math.

What's with my forgetting so much, by the way?

In school news ...

I've got the senioritis and I've got it bad. June is so close but so far away. I make weekly calculations on how many hours I still need to accumulate at my internship. I wait until after the last minute to write papers (um, can I email you that paper tomorrow?). I just want to be done!

In work news...

While I'm still not a huge fan of my job, I find that working 2 days a week suits me very well. Work is actually a break. There is so much to do at home and I always feel like I am behind. At work, I can easily keep up with my responsibilities. Haven seems to enjoy this schedule too. He lu-huvs one of his daycare teachers and follows her around the room with his eyes. He's very social so he enjoys all of the other babies too. I think he likes being home with me as well - some of his favorite things are when I make him into the bed (tuck all of the blankets around him) and sharing macaroni and cheese.

I guess that's about it for now. I will post pictures from Thanksgiving soon - Haven had a blast with his grandparents and aunts!

Welcome to my House.

Hi guys, it's me, Haven. Just thought I'd show you around our new house. Mommy and Daddy are still working on unpacking, but I thought I'd give you an idea of what's going on...



Here we have the kitchen. Daddy just put up that huge cabinet over the sink cause even with all this space, Mommy said she couldn't fit all the stuff. See those pots in the sink? Mommy claims she can't find the dish soap. Good one, Mom.








This is the office/guest room. Since Daddy painted it green, everything Mommy unpacks that is green goes straight to this room. That box is the one Mommy left for Daddy to unpack. I said I'd do it, but she said no (she knows how I am with wires). This expression is me trying to convince Mommy to let me at the box.



This is our living room. Notice the picture of me in the middle of the mantle. I'm famous.








This is the best room of the house. Mine. Sometimes Mommy reads to me in that chair (you can't see it too well) but mostly I just sleep and get dressed in my room. I love it. I have two huge windows.




No, wait! THIS is my favorite room. Mommy and Daddy's room. As you can see, Daddy hasn't put his drawers in the dresser yet and Mommy hasn't gotten that bedding set she wants, but I don't care. I just wish I could sleep here every single night of my life. I have no idea why they won't let me. See that gate by the bed? That's for the nights I do get in here!


That's about it! Thanks for visiting me. Hope to see you 'round my house sometime. I love company!

baby envy

I have this open, honest post about how this whole move thing has gone for me, but it is in the drafts. I think I'll just leave it tucked away there for another day.

Ever since Haven was born, Dave and I get no attention from our families. We are going to my Dad's for Thanksgiving and he is so excited to see ... Haven. We weren't sure if we'd be able to get there for Thanksgiving day and I joked that I could send Haven with my sister Jes and then Dave and I would come for the weekend. I think this would have been fine - I don't think anybody would realize Dave and I were missing. Like I would miss Haven's first Thanksgiving.

So, here are some childhood photos me so that you see how cute I was. At one point, I got a lot of attention myself. Jes is the younger one, with me in two of the photos (pretty cute herself, if I do say so).

Thanks guys!

Dave posted awards on his blog for people who helped us move, and I'm doing my own here. I endorse stealing ideas, how else do you think I've gotten through grad school (KIDDING).

We had so much help on moving day (14 people!), it was truly amazing. With how UNPREPARED I was for the gigantic job of moving, I was again reminded of how incredible the friendships are that we have.

You can see Dave's awards here. You will see that I have shamelessly stolen his idea, but made my own awards (mostly).

The Awards go to...

Kitchen Packing Award: Barb, who packed my entire kitchen one day when Haven would not take a nap and only wanted to be held.

Scrubbie Friend Award: Danna, who scrubbed the inside of some pretty grungy kitchen cabinets on her one full day home from a three-week business trip to Texas.

Handyman Award: Joey, who found more things wrong with our house than did our inspector (what?!) and fixed most of them.

Manager Extraordinare: Manny, who directed everybody on moving day while Dave was finishing a few things at the house (and put in long hours the week prior to moving to help Dave get the house ready).

Brute Strength Award: Dan, Nikko & Nate, who hauled countless gigantic things down and up many, many stairs without a single complaint.

Going the Distance Award: Terry, who, with Nate, came all the way from Long Island and made sure our junk was packed securely in the truck (among many other things).

Tough Stuff Award: Tara, who cleaned crusty cabinet handles in our new house, the bathroom and stove in our old house and held Haven into the late hours of the night while we did our final junk haul.

Carpenter Award: Bill, who took apart the desk and crib and once they were in shambles, assured me, "This day includes me putting the stuff back together."

Specialize in Small Stuff Award: Jes, for taking Haven out for a few hours and for somehow fitting all of that bathroom stuff in our bathroom cabints (living in Manhattan makes you a pro at small spaces).

Good Friends Award: to Melissa and Kevin, for coming out and working hard!

last but not least......
My Favorite Person Award: Dave, for making our house beautiful by painting and fixing things up late into several nights last week, and for keeping me sane when I'm just not.

THANKS.

notes to myself on future moves.

This was my first time moving an entire family. It went well, but I'd like to remember the following next time:

• Try to avoid moving when your child is going through the separation anxiety phase.
• Pack everything before moving day.
• Start packing at least 6 weeks before moving day, no matter how much you can't believe that you're getting a new house.
• Pack a bag of stuff you will need right away (e.g. toothbrush, clean underwear, diapers) so that you are not digging through the mound of boxes for the bare necessities.
• Hire somebody to clean the old place, you won't feel like doing it yourself at all.
• Ask somebody to babysit your child/children for the entire day.
• Get a Rx for Xanax in advance (just kidding, mostly).
• Plan to feed everyone lunch and dinner, moving takes a while.
• Schedule a full massage for a couple of days after moving.
• Schedule a vacation for about a month after moving.
• Say yes to everyone who offers to help. Beg people who don't offer.
• Don't be a pack rat.
• Keep your eye on the prize.
• Be nice, even when you're tired and stressed.

happy places.

Two days to M-day. I have not even started Haven's room/the office. We have furniture to give away, donate or kick to the curb. Half of the attic is organized and ready ... which means half of the attic is not. Tomorrow will be a whirlwind.

This might sound weird, but sometimes if I'm having a hard time with something, I think about what I would say to a client in a similar situation. It helps me to be a objective. Also, it helps me to remember how easy it is to rattle off suggestions when I'm not the one who has to follow through with them.

So, therapist-me to client-me would suggest focussing on the goal and on peaceful things. I might suggest taking a few minutes to relax before tackling the overwhelming situation. I might suggest deep breathing, because breathing is important. So, here are some relaxing images for me...

This was taken during a camping trip with Jim, Patti, Rachel, Joey, Kevin, Melissa, Jes, Danna, Manuel, Kevin and Abbagael. That's a happy time to remember.






I took this picture of my sisters one day last year while we were at the park.

Of course, I can always go back to this moment for a bit of tranquility.

As for the goal, I can think about the time when we are moved in and we are sitting in front of the fire and Haven is playing and everything is in order and neat and in one house. That sounds nice.

Whatchernameagain?

We gave Haven a unique name on purpose. We wanted him to have a name that stood out from all of the John S.'s. We also love the meaning of the word haven and think that it is a masculine thing to be a shelter and safe place for others. What I'm trying to say is that a lot of thought went into his name. And I barely use it.

These are the things I call him instead of Haven:

Babycakes
Little H
Lovey
Little Love
Baby Love
Popsicle
Popsicle Stick
Munchkin
Munchkin Boy
The Babes
Pumpkin
Pumps
Pops
Popsey
The Love
Big Strong Man

And any variation of the above including, The Little Popsicle Lovey boy. It gets out of hand. You'd think I would stick to the 2-syllable word that is his name.

What do you call your babies (pets and friends and loves included!)?

Working hard!

Since we closed on Tuesday, we've been working hard on our new house. So far our big projects are painting and cleaning and Dave hopes to refinish the wood floors sometime this week. Here are some pictures ....





Dave painted this cool stripe pattern in Haven's room.





Haven's been a pretty good sport while Dave and I are at work. I don't think he looks too miserable in this picture.










Our first meal in the new house ...take out bbq ribs and fries. Dave is kind of involved in the food and I barely made it back in time for the timer.






That's it for now! More photos to come.

home!

We closed on our house yesterday! It's official - we own a home! The things I remember of closing are the lawyer telling us, "When you're done paying for this house, your son will be about 31." and when he handed us the land survey he said, "This is what you just bought."

Afterwards, we drove over and room by room, decided where to put everything.

You can take my tylenol, you can take my cough syrup, but you won't take my bumbo!

What is with all of the recalls on baby stuff lately? If they all stem from the same reason as the Bumbo recall, somebody needs to initiate a parent recall.

First of all, the Bumbo is this genius little seat from Australia that came out a couple of years ago. It helps infants learn to sit up, it gives them an upright place to play and takes up very little space. Janet gave one to us when Haven was about 4 weeks old and he's always liked it, which means I like it.

There is now a voluntary recall on the product because - my fury is building - parents place their children in the seat on a table top and walk away. The kid doesn't have to be too big to be able to get out of the seat and 28 children have suffered head and neck injuries from falling off of the table. Dave's mom called me the other day to tell me about the recall and after a quick internet search I realized we'd be okay to keep it since I don't let Haven play alone (or at all...) on top of the table.

Here is more info.
Here is a funny commentary about the recall.

coming home.

I come home after my internship at the counseling center. I'm tired. I've done one individual session and two group sessions for addicts. 95% of the people I spent the evening with are only trying to satisfy the system and are not interested in recovery. I'm convinced that I will neither do drugs myself nor specialize in addictions counseling.

I walk up the stairs to our apartment and drop my bag in the hall. Four guys are huddled in our living room, gripping Xbox controllers and yelling at the television screen. I kiss the one I love most and say hi to the rest. The living room is strewn with bottles and paper plates. Dave tells me they saved me some pizza. I check on Haven, who is asleep with his own bottle lying half empty by his hand. I think about how loud the guys are and wonder how this little guys sleeps.

I change my clothes, clean up the kitchen and toast a slice. I grab my latest Donald Miller book, a beer, and curl up on the papasan in the living room. I try to push Velvet Elvis on Kevin and he says he only reads novels. I offer it to Manny and he says he'll take it, though I'm sure I will find it forgotten under his coffee table in a few weeks. I ask Joey if he likes video games, and he admits he only plays them at our house.

The television screen is sliced into quads and they are shouting commands to each other in a videogamease dialect that I do not speak. I read the same paragraph five times between mouthfuls of pizza, and finally close the book. I think about how we still sort of live like college students. I wonder if it will always feel like this.

The day was long and draining. Thursdays are days that I realize how good we have it. Manny asks me if I like the beer - he is teaching me about the types of beer and the one I'm drinking has a lot of hops. Yeah, I like it.

The guys eventually leave and Dave and I prop our eyelids open long enough to watch The Office. I tell him about my night and how frustrating addictions counseling is. I think about the 12 Steps and how those people who recognize that recovery is a daily journey are the most successful. I think this concept is applicable to areas other than addiction. Our recovery from our natural tendencies is a daily process; a constant decision. Kindness, selflessness, empathy.

I put myself to bed to stop thinking. I look forward to Friday. Haven and I will be home with little to do beyond playing and eating. I focus on the simple things and drift off to sleep.

Velvet Elvis

In the words of my friend Kevin, Rob Bell "sums up my entire Christian faith in a few words." I've been thinking about the church and the various denominations and beliefs. While one church is staring at the sky awaiting the rapture another is casting demons of anybody with an attitude problem and still another is overly rigid in their routine. They all call themselves Christians. Yet, they are unfamiliar to me.

Velvet Elvis is a book about pure Christianity. Original Christianity, perhaps. I don't know what else to call it. It is about the life Jesus lived on earth. He talks about the culture of Jewish people at the time Jesus lived in it, and the explanations cast new lights on many familiar stories. He writes about the ways the church has misinterpreted Jesus throughout history. The book is both easy to read and thought provoking.

Our small group is going through a series of short films with Rob Bell called Nooma. He talks about Jesus as a real person. When the film ends, my thoughts are, "Yeah, that's the God I know. That is exactly why I'm a Christian." He talks about the things God is all about: truth, justice, love, compassion.

I recommend this book - as well as the video series - to anyone who is interested in learning more about the character of Jesus.

about school.

I love school. Shamelessly. I've mentioned this before, but I don't want you to forget.

I especially love professors who love school.

The class I am in this semester is a companion to my internship at the counseling center. We share cases, review our treatment ideas and ask questions. My professor is a wealth of knowledge, and I know she's not getting wealthy teaching our class. Still, she's invested, she plans in advance and she listens to us like our concerns matter - these are things that probably make her an excellent therapist as well.

I appreciate her expertise because I have had more than my share of careless professors. I actually once had a professor who would stand by the window until he saw his boss leave for the night, and then imediately let us out of class. I know, a lot of kids would love this. It infuriated me. What a waste of my time.

A good class to me is like a pool in which I can swim as deep as I wish. I love how much knowledge is available. I love it. I love to ask a question and get a real answer. I love when people know stuff that I don't know. So please, tell me stuff.

Time Capsule

I want to put a time capsule in my brain of right now. I want to remember all of this in years to come. I'm so happy. I don't think I've ever been so happy in my entire life. Except maybe on my honeymoon, which also eminated an I-had-no-idea-I-could-be-so-happy feeling.

I'm stressed too, of course. I have issues I'm trying to work out about myself (so do you, don't deny it). But daily there are moments that I am stunned by all of this magic.

When Haven is at daycare on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I go see him at lunch time. I find him sitting contentedly on the floor with a simple toy in front of him. I stand in front of him and call his name. He looks up and his face illuminates. Magic.

When we are driving in the car on another long drive to see our friends or our family, we finish a long conversation about work or life and Damien Rice comes up on the Ipod and Dave reaches for my hand and our hands fit together like two halves. Magic.

When I sit with my client after many sessions and she cries and talks and nods and takes small steps. She breaths. She says thank you. Magic.

When I ramble to Jesus while I'm driving the car about all of the frustration and confusion in my mind and I know He hears me. Comforts me. Makes sense of me. Magic.

When Danna and I sit in the cafe at Borders with our steaming drinks and emotional chatter and in a matter of moments it disolves to laughter. Magic.

When Jes calls me on her birthday to tell me to turn on the news because she is famous. Her school is reviewed and the children sing its praises and she comes on the screen with a smile and looks strong and happy and revolutionary. Magic.

When I walk home from the bakery with cookies for Dave and Haven is in his stroller and I think about how the house is clean, and I know what I'm going to make for dinner, and I'm mostly caught up on things and I realize that having control of all of that is not happiness, but having people with whom to share love is the ultimate joy. Magic.

This, with millions of other moments, would be my time capsule. I would take it out in years to come, when Haven is older and I am older and life is both simpler and more complex. I would see then, God was right, when He made this world, it was good.

I Like Me Because...

Our church meets in a cute elementary school decorated by art projects. It's the kind of place you see and realize you did, in fact, like school at one point. We meet in the cafeteria and Sunday school classes take place in the classrooms.

Haven still coughs like an old man who has smoked all of his life (the doctor said it would hang on for a couple of weeks...), so I kept him out of the nursery. We sat in the service until he would not be silenced by the finger foods I offered. We began what has become our Sunday morning ritual: wandering the halls.

Along two stretches of the main hall were paper plates cut into the shape of hearts. On the top, each said, "I like me because..." and the child wrote the reason in the middle of the plate. Most of the children wrote things like, "I'm a good swimmer" or "I help people" or "I get good grades." Then, I saw one little girl wrote, "I'm loveable."

I wondered what I would have written on my own plate. I'm a good mom, I'm in college, people like me (usually), I'm a good friend ... what's your answer? So often we feel good about ourselves based on what we do or what other people think of us. Isn't God's love based on one simple thing: I am loveable. Just the way I am.

I'm learning about that kind of grace. It slows me down. It whispers in my ear to stop the rat race of people pleasing. It is hot tea on these Fall days. It is enduring and strong. It is seeing God more clearly and knowing Him better. It strips me of my pretenses and releases me to be.

Mom's Club Evaluation.

I have no friends with babies. I've complained about this before, I know. I have some friends with babies, but none who lives within a 3 hour drive from my house. I have one pregnant friend close by and one who might get pregnant within a year. So there is hope that I will not always feel like the only mom under 40 in New Jersey.

Anyway, this morning I set out to make some mommy friends. Haven and I went to the Mom's Club. I made a mental note to not tell anybody that Haven goes to daycare part time, lest they ban him (me!) for the germs.

Haven sat on the rug and played. A little girl grabbed his toys from him and dangled them over his head. He was pissed at first, then entertained. He reached for another baby's juice, nodded at a fellow pre-crawler and was overloaded by the time we left. I eyed the women in the room as if we were at a bar and I was looking for a date. Let's face it, I was looking for a date. Many dates. Let's see ... Too talkative. Too weird. Too proud of her average child. Too insecure. Too obsessed with Mom's Club. Hm ... she looks normal to me ... One mama had a baby a little bit younger than Haven. She couldn't have been 30. He hair was imperfect and she smiled just enough. She asked a few questions, she left quickly when it was over. Good. Confident, not too needy but aware of her need for friends. Perfect. I'll get her number next time.

I try to surround myself with people I would be happy to resemble. I guess I'm picky when it comes to friends, but this is a lesson I've learned the hard way. One of my friends said it well: as you get older, friendship is usually more about quality than quantity. So, I'm looking for one good friend to call when Haven just won't take a nap and I need somebody to look me in the eye and tell me I'm doing the right thing with him. Somebody to have over for lunch to talk shop. I hope it happens.

Birthday. Moving. Sugar.

My 27th birthday was a fun day spent with Jes and Haven. We went shopping, had bagels and water ice. Dave brought me flowers and I'll go pick up my gift when I have a chance (we picked out our own this year). I felt loved and secure and happy.

It was a great day and another is coming quickly! Moving day. We still say, "We think we're moving." When do you know for sure? Anyone? I'm thinking we won't know for sure until closing. So far everything is in place for us to close next week and move by the end of the month. Today I decided I better start packing.

Crap. We have more than I thought. I've already filled 8 boxes and only cleared off one book shelf, the media shelf and part of the linen closet. When did we buy all of this junk and would I miss it if I dropped it off at the Salvation Army instead of our new house?

In the sugar news ... I have begun my sugar-and-fried-stuff fast. I planned to start yesterday, until a coworker brought rice krispie treats as a birthday surprise. When I told Dave he said, "You failed already?" No, I extended my birthday celebration. Today I am sugar free, as I will be for the next 30 days. Just to clarify, I am still eating fruit, though I know it contains small amounts of natural sugar. It may be irrelevant, but I will also continue to eat bread and cheese, without which I would feel I was not truly living. Both Christin and Jennifer (Nickernoodle) are in on this with me, in their own ways! Thanks for the support!

Things I'm Happy About

• "I think we have a house." Dave said to me the other day. Yes, I think we do.


• Haven is feeling better...after one more trip to the doctor's office yesterday to learn the latest rash is a reaction to the ear infection medication, he had a good night's sleep and, right now, is his happy self again.


• Our friends Janet and Andy have officially started the process of adopting a child from Ethiopia! A new baby is coming!


• Decorating Haven's room will be so fun. He finally will have his own room without a computer and office stuff in it. I think I'm going to do a forrest theme. Won't that be perfect in a log cabin? The photo is his room. What color carpet should I pick?


• I finally have time to do laundry and cook dinner and vacume! I love being home 3 days a week!


• The shows Dave and I love are back on for the Fall and these have started off great: Prison Break, Grey's Anatomy, The Office, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia.
  
• I'm learning. So many things ... about myself, grace, thought processes, people. I think I'll write about it soon, but it might be the kind of stuff that's phenominal to me simply because of all of the pieces of my life at this point. Might not be ground breaking to anyone else.


• I've got tons of good reading around me. I'm almost done Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell and have two more books I'm excited about waiting on the book shelf.


• My birthday is on Monday and I will be 27. Ten wonderful years ago my 17th birthday was so fun. It was at Lindsay's house and Collin, Pat, Jes, Shantra, Josh and I had an ice cream cake fight in the back yard. (remember Linds? Jes?) I think age 27 will be full of just as many fun, fun memories.

Oreos and French Fries. Baby, bye bye.

As Haven is able to eat more foods, I scrutinize my own diet to see what I am teaching him. I collapsed on the futon after work yesterday with a tired Haven nursing in my lap and a package of Oreos. I flipped on a Tivo'd 30 Minute Meals and soothed my hunger with half a row of cookies. I may give Haven a healthy diet of organic fruits and veggies now, but it is only a matter of time before he's sitting on the couch before dinner, gorging himself with Oreos?

I've decided that I am going to challenge myself with a little goal. No sugar or fried food for one month. I tried to get Dave in on it, but he said he'll only do it if I make it for one month. He's sure he will never have to. I'm sure he will. This will be a great exercise in self control for me and I'm sure it won't hurt my waistline. I plan to start October 9 (purposefully, the day after my birthday). So ...

Does anybody want in?

Day One as Superwoman.

So, it turns out this at-home mommy thing is a lo-ot of work. It also turns out that I'm not superwoman. It took about three hours for me to discover that one. Bummer. Being a super hero would make life so much easier when I'm grocery shopping with an 8-month-old who will not settle for anything less than being held. I could have used a third arm this morning. Or the ability to move things with my mind. Or clone myself.

Today I refer you to Dave's blog, where he's holding a contest. Prizes included!

See you when my super powers begin. Or when Haven is less clingy.

a little introspection

I am earning my money this week. I've been training my replacement; a very cheerful, optimistic woman who comes early and stays late. She makes lists of questions for me. (Turns out I know more than I thought.) My clients will be in good - non-burnt-out - hands. After her interview, my boss told me about how hopeful and happy this woman is, I simply said, "Give her time." My boss didn't think that was too funny. But it was.

I sometimes wonder what this job has done to me. Watching people go through a social service system is taxing. Interacting with underpaid, underqualified staff (from other agencies, of course) is frustrating. It is impossible to maintain a "reach for the stars" mentality when your job is to determine a person's vocational potential. I know I was not this practical four years ago when I stumbled off my college campus into this job. I thought the world of the world. I was confident I could improve society.

I still love my internship and I think marriage and family counseling is more my forte than is rehabilitation counseling. I would love to work in a Christian counseling center and eventually open my own practice.

I guess career is on my mind. As I cut down my hours at work, and eventually eliminate them, I am reminded of things I do like about human services. The key is to do what you can. No, it's to do what you are supposed to do. What you are meant to do. What has God has called you to do with your days? I've come to the conclusion that every profession is a helping profession. Every piece of our lives is a outlet to show love, forgiveness, peace. I want to remember that throughout my career as a counselor, as a mother, as a person.

Super

Haven turned red and was immediately covered in sweat when I put him in his crib. He screamed, kicked off the blanket and abandoned Dangles. Unsure if he was tired enough for a nap yet, I decided I would get him in ten minutes if he was still enraged. Several minutes later the crying ceased and he is sprawled out in his crib, reveling in dreams. The angrier he is when I put him in bed, the faster he falls asleep.

This will be my last four-day work week. My last day was scheduled to be Friday, but my boss asked if I would continue working 2 days a week while a coworker is on maternity leave. I asked for a small raise and agreed to stay. As of next week, I will work only Tuesdays and Thursdays. I have all sorts of illusions that my apartment will always be spotless, dinner will be fresh and healthy every night. I will research the latest treatments for my clients and implement them seamlessly. Haven and I will spend our days taking in the sunshine and attending play groups. Next week, I become Super Woman. Stay tuned.

I love Valerie's idea of planning the menu for the week on Monday. I think I might do a theme ("Like a cafeteria?" Dave asked) menu. This will help me wade through my cookbooks. For example, Fish Monday, Crock Pot Tuesday, Around the World Wednesday, Leftover Thursday. I can't decide about Friday. I'm just excited about next week, when I will be able to solve this one easily. When I become Super Woman.

I think Haven is awake. He takes micro naps in the morning. About twenty minutes. I leave you with this picture of Haven in a super cute shirt Marcia sent from Holland (thanks Marsh!).

Keen's

For the past four or five years we have called together our friends and planted ourselves at Outback Steakhouse for a few hours to celebrate Dave's birthday. It has always been fun. It has always satisfied Dave's appetite for steak on his birthday.

During the course of this year, however, Dave brought his steak passion to a new level. He went to New York's Keen's Steakhouse during a business meeting a few months ago. He will still eat at Outback (don't do me any favors), but after eating at Keen's, he is spoiled for what we have considered good steak. Keen's is a very old, very fancypants steakhouse in the city. He returned a couple of times with his boss and coworkers after they did some business in town.

I'm lucky if my boss brings mini muffins to work. But that's a different story.

Keen's makes aged steak. Apparently aging steak is a process that enhances the flavor. Our friends were ecstatic. My friend Danna starved herself all day so that she could pack in as much long-gone cow as possible. I don't like steak and used to be a vegetarian, but even I thought the flavor was remarkable. Since I don't enjoy the texture of steak, I had lobster instead, which was divine. I've only had lobster two other times and it was as delicious as the time I had it at a clam bake on Long Island.

The table was full of steak lovers and the table was full of steak. So many dead cows. Maybe that's why I don't like steak - it's so obvious that it is a slab of flesh. I had to have the lobster's head taken from my plate in order to indulge. I'd rather avoid what's really going on when I eat meat.

The meal was truly decadent. Everything was delicious from the wine, to the hollindaise sauce for the asparagus to the potatoes to the service. Remarkable.

Danna and I attacked a dark chocolate mousse. We opted to share one since were so full, but we scarfed that sucker down so fast the waiter laughed. I dared her ask the waiter to give her a doggie bag for the bone from her steak so she could make soup, but instead we just laughed until we cried.

We had dropped Haven at Jes's before dinner. He had a great time getting strolled around the city and chilling out in a tea shop. (Jes has started her own blog and it is hysterical in comedic proportions, by the way.)

I remembered why we love living around here. It is great to be so close to New York. It is great to be so close to Jes. It is great to have friends to celebrate with us. It is great to experience distinctly new things.

Happy Birthday, Dave!

Dave is 29 years old, as of Wednesday. He was about 19 when we met for the very first time.

My sister, Jessica, had moved to northern Jersey to attend a school similar to YWAM's Discipleship Training School, hosted by a church in the area. For her birthday, Lindsay and I drove the three hours to surprise her. We borrowed Merry's - Lindsay's sister - car, the little Festiva. She made us clean it in order to borrow it, as any smart older sister would. (Actually, at the last minute, Lindsay's mom let us borrow her car, so Merry got a clean car for nothing. Lucky.) So, Linds and I hit the highway. Jes was so excited to see us she started writhing on the floor. But, more about that another time. This story is about Dave for Dave's birthday.

I remember the first time I saw him. I watched him. I thought he was cute. Intriguing. Friendly. He was in school with Jes. He video taped Jes, Linds and I in a birthday cake eating contest and you can hear him laughing behind the camera. Yes, his first impression of me was based on my on how fast I could shove cake into my mouth. This boded well for our future.

Ten years have passed since then. It was another three years before it hit us that we were perfect for each other and four more before Dave asked me to marry him and two more before we brought a mini-us into the world. It has certainly been a full ten years. For a list of things I love, love love about my husband click here http://iwillwalkwithyou.blogspot.com/2007/06/how-do-i-love.html.

Happy Birthday, Love!
May this last year in your twenties (!) be full of joy.

Pediatrician. Speed Dial 1.

Haven is sick.

Again? You say.

No. Still.

We should get some kind of frequent visitor card at the doctor's office. Maybe we could get a free copay. Or an invite to Thanksgiving dinner.

I'm not a panicky Mom. I don't run to the doctor's office with every sneeze. In the past month, though, we've been there for a rash, pink eye and now ... a bad cough. Last week's pink eye has progressed into two infected ears and "viral" pnemonia. You have got to be kidding me.

He's napping now (fell asleep by himself! I can hardly believe this whole thing is working!!). When he wakes up we'll walk down to the pharmacy and get his medicine.

On a happier note, I thought this video was too great not to share. It comes via my friend Janet.

pictures.

Little house in the Big Woods.

A view of the living room from the stairs.

The stairs to the loft bedroom.

Counter space!!!!

Dave in the dining room ... trying to remember if any of our friends are taller than he is.

There are lots more pictures ... but it took me ages to poorly format these. So. In the interest of time ... that's all for now.

househunt update.

We are in the throws of buying our first home. Last night was the inspection, which I was dreading with bated breath. I took about a thousand pictures of every nook of the house. When it was over, I thought it went well. Dave informed me it did not. I obviously was giving more thought to complimentary paint and carpet choices for Haven's room than to the weak well pump and flu-less chimney. Good thing Dave was there.

The next few days will be full of research and negotiating. I look forward to it ending. I just want to know. I just want to start packing boxing and picking paint colors. And installing a dishwasher. Or, please no, start looking again.

I like this house a lot. It is an old log cabin. It has so much character. It has a large deck. It has a stone fireplace. It has a loft bedroom with a walk-in closet for Dave and me. It is so homey. I hope we get it. I'm way past not getting excited.

(Photos to come.)

Thanks for the input!

Last week I asked what other parents did to help their children fall asleep independently. It was supremely helpful mostly because it was great to know that we are not the only parents who are struggling.

Despite my curiosity as to what other parents found to work, I wasn't ready to do much. Mostly because I decided my only recourse was letting Haven cry it out. At Christin's suggestion, I did start to bring a stuffed monkey to hang out with us while I nursed Haven to sleep. I sort of forced the thing on him and he was not too interested.

However, after several hour-plus go-to-bed sessions I decided I was ready for some alone time with Dave and a semblance of a nigh time routine for Haven. I decided I was ready. To let Haven cry.

We have let him cry before. Once for an entire hour. After that, I thought that crying led to sleep as a rainbow leads to a pot of gold. We started Saturday's cry session with a let's-see-what-happens mentality. Davene, your quote of the verse that says, "No discipline is pleasant in the moment..." played over and over in my mind.

Dave and I were cleaning out the attic. Don't worry. We didn't miss out on any of the heart-wrenching sobs permeating our apartment. We just got to do two fun things at once: sort through our junk and listen to our little guy scream.

It took us about an hour to get through half of the attic (in our defense, it's a huge walk-up attic). Dave left to take a carload of crap to the Salvation Army and I planned to go rescue Haven from his misery. Just as I approached his door the sobbing started to dwindle. A few silent seconds passed, then more crying erupted. I thought maybe, just maybe, this child is getting tired. He cried intermittently for another half hour while I sat stiff as a board listening from the living room. By the time Dave got home, Haven was just about asleep.

Once sweet silence entered the apartment, I crept into Haven's room. He was pushed all the way to the corner of the crib, his head nestled there. His blanket was balled up in anger. The "comfort" monkey was upside down in mockery. But sleep. There was independent sleep.

Sunday night I started a little ritual. A few books. Nursing. Diaper change. Pajamas. Pray. Here's the monkey, oh, you don't care, here he is anyway. Good night. He only cried for twenty minutes and then I found him asleep, with the monkey, whom we call Dangles by the way, peacefully next to him.

Here's hoping this is the beginning of a smooth transition to a big boy bedtime routine.

Bath Time

"Trying to look at you, Mom, but. can't. take. eyes. off bubble."

What's that you said?

I put Haven on our bed in a sitting position and walked over to the closet.

"Jen, he's too close to the edge!" Dave was diving toward Haven to encircle him in pillows.

I glanced over my shoulder, furrowed my eyerows and said, "You're right."

Posed with a lengthy explanation of why Haven should not be placed on the bed so haphazardly, Dave's face suddenly dropped with no reason to say it. Whatdidyoujustsay? I had to say it a couple of times before his expression changed from sheer shock.

I turned back to the closet and smiled. I'm thinking my own husband should not be speechless when I tell him he's right.

I was looking for funny marriage quotes and found this: If a man is talking in the woods and no woman hears him... is he still wrong? This isn't really funny. Well, it is, to the typical view of marriage in our culture. But seriously. Who wants the typical marriage offered by a culture with a 50/50 chance of getting divorced? I certainly don't.

In a lot of the church there is one Bible verse people always quote about marriage - the one about women submitting to their husbands. By leaving out the preceding verse (Eph 5:21), they suggest that men are always right.

Dave and I are of the conviction that submission is a natural thing that occurs in a healthy marriage and it is not a forced, do-what-I-say kind of thing. Submission, in the original language, has more of a caretaking meaning than the obedient I-know-nothing-you-know-everything meaning commonly attached to it. This is our interpretation. I'm not saying we've got the corner on it, nor do I wish to start a discussion on women submitting to their husbands. All this to say...

When we were planning our marriage ceremony, we told our friend Jim we wanted to do some of our own vows and use some of the traditional vows. Jim is aware of our beliefs about roles in marriage, however, when he was saying the vows for me to repeat, I found myself saying, "I will obey you in everything." He simply forgot to remove this part from the traditional vows and he jokes that Dave slipped him a twenty to put that line in my vows. Dave reminds me of it at key times. Like when he wants to order pizza for dinner.

Anyway, my point is well summed up by Zig Zigler, "Many marriages would be better if the husband and the wife clearly understood that they are on the same side. " Sometimes Dave is right and sometimes I'm right. Most often, though, we both have a little bit of rightness and we just need to put it together. Hopefully I can get that message across to Dave, so that next time I tell him You're Right he isn't speechless.