Something to chew on

Lately I've been pondering a new insight into myself as a wife. God teaches me these little nuggets from time to time. The last nugget was pretty hard to swallow but that's another story for another time.

Right now the nugget is this:

To hold in a gripe is beautiful.

Stopping negative words before they come out of my mouth is more than
simply creating an absence of something.
It's creating something beautiful.

How does this play out in real life? Here's an example. The other day Brian poured my drink at dinner. (Small tangent: I always mix orange juice and V8 splash for my drink at dinner. Brian calls it my cocktail. It tastes delicious and I let myself believe I'm getting in my veggies) When he set the glass down on the table I noticed that there was alot of V8 splash and not much orange juice when usually I make it the other way around. I was just about to point this out (the guy needs to know for future reference right?) when I remembered the nugget. As I said thank you and watched my husband, a smile was growing on my insides. Brian may have just heard silence but there was beauty in that silence.

Though I rarely even struggle with this issue (right Brian?), it's nice to know that I'm not just stuffing in a thought that I wanted to blurt out. It's actually kind of fun to stay quiet and enjoy the moment of silence like a piece of chocolate. 

I really like these nuggets.
God teaching me and growing me is one of my favorite things. 

New developments

She eats feet. 

He sings. 

Somebody's watching me

Last night I had a sweet moment with Mash. I was going through our usual nighttime routine where I lay her down and sit down on the foot stool of the glider and rest my forehead against the crib and watch her through the little slit between the bed rail and the top of the bumper. I only watch for a little bit and then I relax and read my book by the dim light of the night light while she puts herself to sleep. I'm too lazy to just come down stairs because she might lose her pacifier and I would have to use my leg muscles that have been on hiatus for about 6 years to go back up the stairs. So every night I read a few pages in my book, which right now is "Angela's Ashes," until she falls asleep. 

Last night I laid her down and looked down to take my seat. When I got settled and leaned forward to look through my little peep hole this is what I saw:

Her little eyes were watching me back through the little slit. I gasped and then started choking on laughter. I tried so hard to keep it in because I knew she was overtired and was oh so close to falling asleep. But I just couldn't.

And I started giggling.

And then she started giggling.

And then we both lost it.

After the laughter finally died down, she smiled at me with her little chipmunk cheeks for a few minutes and then slowly her eyes started closing and she was peacefully sleeping.

I can't even begin to put into words how much joy this little girl brings me. 

Where the magic happens

Last night I woke up to a whisper in my ear, "Don't      Move."  After a small coronary, I turn my head to the right to see Brian sitting up next to me in an awkward position. The blood rushes through to my fingertips and I whisper back, "What is it?!"

He says in a deep sleepy voice, "I caught a wasp." And I look down to see that his hands are cupped and holding the wasp down against the bed. Then Brian says, "I can't find anything to kill it with." So I jump out of bed to get a shoe when Brian changes his mind. "Oh wait a minute. I think I'm dreaming." (thoughtful pause) "Yes. I'm dreaming." And he lays down and drifts back to peaceful sleep.

It's on nights like these as I stare at the ceiling vacillating between chuckling and fuming with anger at the fact that I can't sleep longer than one hour intervals between two wakeful children and Brian snoring or waking me to help him kill imaginary bugs, or waking me to wave my arm around while frantically trying to convince me that it's the baby and I'm smashing it, or punching me in the face because he's on a mission with Jackie Chan that I have to remind myself of a bit of encouragement Brian told me years ago: I can sleep when I die.

Time to wax

The following video clip pains me to make public. But I gotta.

Here's the setup. Silas has a chapped lip. I call him my little geisha. Whenever he feels it, he thinks he has a mustache and I wanted to capture that cuteness on film. I got more than I bargained for.

Big day

There's nothing like it.
The excitement.
The fear.
The anticipation.
The pain.
The pushing.
The first touch.
The exhaustion.
The sleep deprivation.
The new love. 

Yesterday my brother and sister-in-law (mainly my sister-in-law) did it.
Little baby Jack was born. And he's a cutie.

 

Changes

Today was one of those bittersweet moments of motherhood. At breakfast, Mash ate solid food for the first time. It may seem small but it feels big.

It's a little whisper in my soul that tells me one day these moments will be distant memories. Moments when I notice she's stopped eating and look down to see she just took a break to smile at me.

Moments when she wakes up for her 5 a.m. feeding and her little arms are cold and she snuggles them against me while I sleep and she eats.

Moments when life with her is pretty simple: cuddle and feed every three hours and watch her smile anytime you look in her direction.

But there's another whisper in my soul that reminds me to focus on the joy it is to watch her grow older rather than regretting it happening. It reminds me to be glad about the future and to count it a privilege to be a part of her life even when it's hard to let go of the good things as they pass.

Trick or treating

On Saturday night the local Sesame Street gang velcroed their converse and hit the streets. The culprits were Cookie Monster, Ovahita (for the avid Sesame Street watchers), Elmo and Big Bird.

Here's the whole crew.

Isn't bat girl cute?

 They had lots of fun running around, riding the hay ride behind the tractor, and getting lots of candy.

It sure was fun to watch. Big Bird couldn't see past his beak, Elmo was acting like someone might have slipped crack into his dinner of hot dogs and carrots, and Cookie Monster had a slight case of encephalitis.

Here we are having fun with Mash's costume before the big night.