Magic Carseat Ride

Where you at 3:45 am on the night of July 30? Driving around town, praying Haven would finally fall asleep.

"Two babies went home early with fevers yesterday." The teacher told me as I filled Haven's bag with bottles and dirty bibs. I tiptoed through the room in my heels, maneuvering around baby toes and toys. She had called me at work to pick him early due to a fever.

Germs. One of the great joys of daycare. When Haven got his first cold (from one of his snotty-nosed little friends) I felt so guilty for subjecting him to these germs. I confessed my guilt-ridden thoughts to Danna and she quipped, "It'll build up his immune system" and dismissed the topic. What a nice friend. She's always told me Haven will be fine at daycare and I think she's one of the few people in my life who truly believes this. She's a great source of sanity.

After feeling sick for two days, by last night Haven's sleep schedule was completely off. He took a few catnaps through the night, but before 2:00 AM, he looked like he thought it was morning. Dave and I tried everything we could think of to put the little H to sleep. I nursed him. Dave bounced him. I bounced him. We let him cry. We gave him a bottle in his crib. We put him in his bouncer and turned on the vibration. We cycled his legs to let out any gas. I prayed very specific prayers: God, please let him be asleep by 2:25 and then sleep until 6:00. I tried to reason with Haven, in the off chance he could understand, "Mommy and Daddy are very tired, if you could just..."

We kept up this charade for two hours. He would not be silenced.

Finally, I pulled on a pair of jeans, grabbed the keys and carried Haven to the car. As I turned the car on to the highway, I could hear him hum as he does when he's resisting sleep. This was a battle of will power and I would not be outdone by a 5-month-old. This child was going to sleep if I had to drive to New York City and back.

The roads were empty. I drove through the town where my friend's husband is a cop and hoped he would pull me over so that I could commiserate with him. I zipped through usually-congested areas of town. I looked longingly a homes where all of the lights were off; people were sleeping. I found it strange that the radio sounded the same as it does during the day. As if the night is a real time. I thought about driving to the hospital where Haven was born and asking the nurses if they'd like to reunite with him for the night.

Finally, his humming turned into deep, breathy sighs and I turned toward home. I hauled the car seat up the stairs and into our bedroom, left Haven in it and crawled back to bed. Dave thanked me and returned to snoring. My eyes were wide against the ceiling until I convinced myself to fall asleep since I had only 2 short hours until my alarm would sound.

When I went to see Haven for lunch today, his teacher said he took a 2 hour nap that morning. I bet he did. Any room in that crib for me?

What I know of marriage. For my sisters.

I know that it is imperitive that you marry the right person. Make sure your souls match. Yes, you'll know.

I know that to be quick to say "I was wrong" and quick to say "I forgive you" is foundational.

I know that to believe the best about the other person equals love and trust. An example of this is attributing the other person's lateness to traffic and not to their disregard for you.

I know that sharing goals, faith and life plans makes for a journey you can both look forward to with anticipation and look back on with pride.

I know that some days you cannot keep your hands off of eachother and other days you both just want a sweat-pants-wearing, movie-watching, pizza-eating pal. I know this is healthy.

I know that honesty (through words!) is the only way to help the other person undertand you. Yes, even when your souls match.

I know that it is worth it to wait until you're married to have sex.

I know that it is important to laugh together.

I know that it is important to maintain your own interests and remain two individuals in even the closest bond. For the closests bond.

I know that it is important to think of marriage, and life, as an adventure that is a collision of the breathtaking, the sublime and the compromises.

I know that I want you to know love.

Son of a Preacher Man

In honor of Tammy Faye's passing, I will recommend the autobiography of her son. I read this book a few years ago, and it remains on my list of favorites. It speaks to we who grew up in the church setting where Christianese was ever-present. All the time, of course, we just needed to meet God for ourselves. We all simply need a relationship with Him of our own. We need to know His call on our life. I love this book because it is honest. It eminates vulnerability and strength and is filled with the joy in following Jesus anywhere.

Read it.

Safe on God's hip.

I wonder if parenthood is going to be one long object lesson.

Yesterday when Dave went to play tennis, I took Haven for a walk. I recently scored a back-saving invention called a hip hammock; a carrier that holds Haven on my hip instead of my front or back. So, I strapped him on, stuffed my pocket with change and trotted toward Rita's (see the entry Three Great Things if you aren't familiar with Rita's).

This was the first time I took Haven for a walk in the hip hammock, usually he rides in his travel system - a world unto it's own. In the stroller all he can see is me and he usually stares at my face until the lull of the stroller puts him to sleep. In the hip hammock, he was privy to all of the action in the neighborhood. He watched intently as we passed a man grilling chicken, as squirrels ran into the bushes and as two guys installed an amp into their suped-up car.

When we got to Main Street, traffic became a little faster. A car passed us and Haven held himself closer to me, then, as the car disappeared, he released himself. Again and again he did this, as each car drove by. Again and again I told him, "It's okay, buddy, you're safe."

There was no threat that he would be hurt. There was not a chance that I would put us in the way of the traffic. He was safe, hanging on my hip, wrapped tightly in a carrier with my arm around his bottom. I could see the threat was benign, but he could not. He had never seen cars go so fast, so close to him. To Haven, the threat felt imminent.

I live my life afraid that I am facing the traffic alone, when, really, I am riding in a hip hammock the whole time. I want to crawl back into the stroller, the safe bubble where all I can see is God's face and there is nothing to distract or scare me. But God brings me out to a place where I can see the world, where I can learn. He brings me to places where I must rely on him. Though I am safe, I still jump. I hold tight for a moment, and then I let go only to grab on in fear again.

In time, Haven will become accustomed to traffic and noises and surprises. He will stop startling at these things and ride confident that he is safe. He will sit there on my hip as peacefully as he does in the stroller.

I want to progress as well. I want my confidence in God's goodness and protection to grow and mature. I want to go through my life knowing that though I can see so many scarey things around me, I am so close to God that I am safe.

Only at my job...

There were 3 voicemail messages on my phone when I arrived this morning.

The first:

A muffled sound, then a click.

The second:

A whimper, then a click.

The third: (in a tearful voice):

I have the runs real bad, I don't think I can come to work! Click.

Anybody have a voicemail this morning that beats that?

Little Love

Haven has a knack for capturing hearts in a flash. After a big, gummy smile he ducks his head with a shy expression. It's breathtaking, if I do say so myself.

There's one little girl at daycare who is just about 2 weeks older than him and he's always had fun with her. She has the laid-back personality he does and they often play together (read: lie on the floor and kick their feet together). This week, Haven took it to the next level.


You guessed it, that's Haven, on the right, reaching over to hold her hand. They sat like that for a while. (click on the picture to see it bigger.)

When I told Dave about it, he told Haven he was too young for a girlfriend. He was serious and he looked a little nervous.


What a friendly little guy - I just think he's the best.

Three Great Things.

This was a fun weekend.

First of all, on Saturday our friends Danna and Manuel came over for a barbeque and, along with some awesome strawberry shortcakes and red wine, they brough along one of my new favorite things. Dibs. I love finger food, I prefer it to fancier edibles, so I am just the type of person for whom Dibs was created. Dibs is a creation by Edy's and you buy it in what looks like an ice cream container. BUT, pop the top and inside are little pieces of chocolate covered ice cream bits. That's right. Bite size ice cream. Lucky for me, Danna forgot to take them with her, so I've been chowing down all weekend. Dib by dib.

On Friday Dave noticed that the new Rita's Water Ice was open. Let me back up. Rita's Water Ice is a great little place that sells the taste of Summer. If you don't know what water ice is ... telling you that it is like Italian ice does not do it justice, but that is its distant cousin. Dave and I have anxiously awaited the arival of Rita's in our neighborhood ... within walking distance. So, Sunday morning we strolled down to Main Street and got us some Rita's (which was free, by the way, since they just opened).

You might wonder what were doing pigging out on water ice on a Sunday morning. (Or, if you're familiar with Rita's, you realize this is a great way to appreciate God's Creation and a reasonable substitute for church.) Actually, our church was rescheduled to meet at 4:00pm this Sunday. I talked nonstop all weekend about how happy I was that church was at 4, that 4pm is the best time for church to meet and what could I do to continue this schedule forever. The day felt like it lasted forever. We got to sleep in (sort of, AHEM, Haven). We got to visit Rita's. We got to go to church. We had dinner with everyone after church and still had hours of fun left at home. What a blast.

I highly recommend everyone add the following to their lives:

Dibs.

Rita's.

Church at 4 pm.

Good Excuse.

"He can't take naps on his own, you know that."

No, I do not know that.

Ten minutes later, I find this:

Window Gazing

There is no window to the outdoors in my office. This is a good thing. I get so little done as it is. Many of my homeschooled years were spent sitting at my desk and staring out the window with a forgotten text book open in front of me. (Don't tell my Mom.) At my internship, there is a window in the office and it takes effort to keep my eyes from wandering outside while a half-written progress note waits paitently on the desk.

I thank my Mom for this insatiable imagination. I thank her that I can entertain myself for hours with only my thoughts. I got this from the many afternoons I spent sitting at the coffee table, coloring, while my Mom read to us.

Our reading ritual was one of the great things about my childhood. I took pride in my own coloring book, which was a messy contrast to Jessica's perfect, within-the-lines artwork and Darin's hard, deep coloring. Mine compared more with Rebecca's, seven years my junior. When I was learning to read I often stopped my Mom mid-sentence to see how a new word was spelled - "Where does it say that?" - and she would point to the word in the book and then continue reading. As I got older I used colored pencils instead of crayons. I asked about longer words. I asked about meanings. Origins. I enjoyed this time for years and it segued neatly into the years when I began reading to myself.

We journeyd through the entire Little House series, The Chronicles of Narnia, everything by E.R. White, the Secret of NIMH and plenty of historical fiction.

My Mom also told us stories a lot. Our favorites were about Benny and Bessy (get it - Jenny and Jessie). I don't know what those two kids did, but I remember begging my Mom to tell me more about them.

I now combine all of these words and story lines in my mind. I can fill in the blank of "what if..." in a heartbeat. I love reading. I love to imagine the possibilities. Staring out the window continues to mesmerize me.

Eight

Karen has "tagged" me. The rules: list eight random facts/habits about yourself. People who are tagged write on their own blog about their eight things and post these rules. At the end of your blog post, list eight people to tag.

Let's just see if I can do this AND keep your interest.

1. I have always wanted to live near mountains and I think that is from watching and reading Heidi as a kid.

2. I never graduated from high school. I took the GED at the age of 16.

3. My engagement ring is a sapphire, which I preferred to a diamond. I wanted this stone because it's unique, beautiful and it's Dave's birthstone.

4. I cannot believe I'm going to admit this. I was in 2 beauty pageants as a teenager. I was 14 when I was in the first one and I wore a pink taffeta gown and won some kind of Christian charm award. I was 19 - old enough to know better - in the second one and participated in a bathing suit competition and danced for my talent. I wore a leopard print bathing suit in that pageant. (I probably listed 8 things right there!)

5. I've been a bridesmaid 5.5 times and I've never worn a dress that I absolutely hated (thanks Shantra, Kristin, Lindsay, Lori, Dana and Janet [the half - I was really just a witness, but I count it as a bridesmaid]).

6. I used to repel off of a huge train bridge with my friends, using equipment that was rejected by a camp for safety issues. So, yes, if my friends jumped off of a bridge, I would too.

7. I was student government president in my Sophomore year of college.

8. Eight is my favorite number. It always has been.

I now tag Christin, Merry, Janet, Lindsay, Nickernoodle and Dave if he hasn't done it already (I don't have 8 blogging friends, so these 6 will have to do).

Babyfat vs. Marriagefat

The 40 pounds I packed on over my pregnancy have vanished. (Yes, f-o-r-t-y. I really let loose.) It took 5 months. I'm thrilled. My clothes fit. I don't suffocate in my jeans. I no longer cry when I'm digging through my closet. Plus, I guess I'm used to feeling bigger, so my puffier tummy doesn't seem so bad.

Now, let's talk about those 10 pounds I packed on when I got married two-and-a-half years ago! I can't lose 'em. It's like they came with the package. "I take you, Dave, and ten pounds around my middle ... forever and ever." I'm sure our love for comfort foods does not help (click on the photo to the left, the full size version is sure to send you to the BK drive thru). Now ... what about that treadmill I spent my entire year-end bonus on a few years ago ... I wonder if it still works?

Dave and I recently saw a picture of ourselves (which, no, of course I won't post here, just imagine two ridiculously good looking people) from when we started dating in 2001. Dave thought he looked like a starving person. I thought I looked great, complete with a jaw line and everything. Enter Marriage. Let's just say that in photos now it looks like we have a hefty grocery bill and a comfortable couch.

Is this normal? Shouldn't FORTY pounds take a leeetle longer to lose than ten dinky ones?

This lighthearted post due to an over-abundance of contemplation that I won't tap open into this blog right now. Maybe another time. When it's a little prettier. Because, while I've gotten used to my extra ten pounds, I haven't gotten used to the uglier parts of me.

(Did you get the movie reference?)

Relief and rest

Dana, a long-time friend of mine got married on Friday. We had a fun day getting dressed and over-smiling for pictures. Dana was stunning and happy and adorable. I missed my boys; Dave at Creation with our youth group and Haven home with my mom.

Our whole week was off. The routine was out the window since Dave was away, Haven got sick and and my mom and sister were around to watch Haven while I was at my internship. Haven cried a lot, he gave me the cold shoulder when I finally came home after my internship on Saturday, he woke up multiple times in the night. I had to remember to breath and to eat. I'm still catching up on it all.

In the chaos of life, it's wonderful to have friends who bring out the laughter. Patti, a close friend of mine, has a daughter who is almost exactly 2 years older than Haven. We've decided one day they might fall in love.

"Here's the next wedding." At the wedding reception on Friday, I produced a picture of her daughter and Haven. We then planned their future. They would live with her parents half the year and with Dave and me half the year. For their honeymoon, we'd go on a big family vacation. We would be those moms who never let go. We were hysterical, tears running down my face.

Then, during the mother-son dance, sad tears ran down my cheeks as I thought about my little guy all grown up one day, dancing with me at his own wedding. I'm going to have to write a song that encompasses how I feel because I don't think there is one out there. I just love that tiny little dude. He's such a peanut and such a hero, all in one.

Our family is back together. Dave made it home complete with a great tan and serious exhaustion. Haven and I just stared at him most of the night.