Date Archives → October 2007

playing catch up

Reading her blog today reminded me that I’d been tagged, too. Oh dear. Better late than never! Here goes:

1. What is your schools name and why?
Same as Angela: I don’t go to school.

2. How is your weather today?
Sunny and high 60s — a perfect autumn day.

3. What steals your joy?
Way too many things. And since it’s really my fault when I lack joy (because nothing can steal your joy unless you let it, right mom?), I can add insult to injury by letting a lack of joy steal my joy. If that makes sense.

4. Name 5 blessings you received this week.
Holding Aubrey one last time; having friends in Syracuse who housed me overnight with hardly any warning; a safe trip home; an extra day with Ryan this weekend; giggles from Jameson while we sang “Wheels on the Bus” this evening.

5. Favorite Scripture Passages?
Goodness. This question needs a few more parameters before it’s possible to answer. Chances are that if it’s one of your favorites, it’s one of mine, too.

6. Who in the Bible do you think you are most like?
Great question. I’d love to say Jesus… :)

7. The passage of scripture you read last?
Philippians 2 and 3.

8. Have you praised God for something weird?
I loved Angela’s answer — something about praising Him when chicken breasts are on sale. That’s probably my answer, too.

9. If you were making a greeting card for God, what would you say?
Thank You? Over and over? Does that sound right?

10. What is the best miracle God has performed in your life, or what is you favorite answered prayer?
I’m not sure I could pick one favorite here, either. I think the best miracle is that He is Emmanuel, God with us, all the time — and that He hears every prayer and answers them!

11. What is the most fun thing that you have done lately?
Watch Jameson experience a carousel for the first time.

12. How did you choose your screen name?
What screen name?

babies

Have you seen this one?

Mmmm. Nice memories.

Have you seen this one?

Last night, when he was safely tucked in under a generous layering of quilts (brrr!), I slipped out to the couch where Ryan was coding [working]. And for the longest time, we just smiled, sighed, and talked about what a blessing our little man is.

We spend entire evenings enjoying his silly games, making him giggle, or just being quiet while he contentedly plays and looks at books. He doesn’t stay in his play corner for long, though. He has to touch base regularly with a pat on our legs, a quick cuddle on a lap, or just scrunching up his little face and making us laugh with him. What a joy he is.

I read her post last night and had to smile: sound just like Jameson! I don’t even know how often or how many times he wakes at night, but the general answer to those questions is frequently and many. Plenty of mornings I’ve wondered if I’m doing something wrong, if I need to do something more, if he’ll ever sleep an entire night in his own bed… A few days ago, I read her article (again!), and was strengthened again to do this mothering thing the way that I feel the Lord calling me. You can’t out-give God — and that’s true for me, right now, in this season of my life when giving to God looks like giving to my family.

Mostly, I just know that this is what the Lord has asked of me, the instincts He put in my heart, and it’s my response to His call to do and give my very best. And so as wonderful as it is for Jameson, as bonding as it is, and as healthy as it is, mostly I find joy in it because it’s obedience and worship to a God I love.

rain, rain.

Yup, that’s our weather today. The days of perpetual sunshine and cloudless skies have given way to a wet season of rainy days.

In fact, we’ve turned the heat on, in an attempt to chase out the damp cold.

I think we just may put that fireplace to work.

home sweet home

Home at last.

I say, “at last” because I was gone for three weeks (!), but also because there were, yet again, unfortunate happenings in the process of flying home.

Looooong story short, my flight was scheduled to leave Syracuse at 6pm, arrive in Atlanta, and then I’d get on another plane an hour later and head to San Francisco. Well, when I arrived at the Syracuse airport, the plane I was supposed to be boarding 40 minutes later was still on the runway in Atlanta. Huh. When I asked the representative whether or not I’d make my connection, she said, “Well, it would be close.”

“How close?”

“Well, three minutes.”

Huh. Again.

I decided to try again in the morning and had them rebook me.

Wouldn’t ya know, I showed up Wednesday morning, only to find my plane was delayed, and I would once again miss my connecting flight.

At least this time, my connecting flight wasn’t the last of the day, and there were later options I could hop aboard.

Which I did, and we got here. Safe and sound, albeit a bit disillusioned with flying. (As if I wasn’t already.)

Actually, I took the previous moral of the story to heart, and managed to stay chipper throughout this process of being bumped around with a baby in tow.

Anyway, I’m finally home.

Home to a husband who misses me.

And a garden that misses me, dust bunnies that miss me, laundry that misses me, an empty fridge that misses me…

*smile*

today, yesterday…

It’s cold, gray, and rainy.

It’s the kind of day that somehow smells like a cup of hot chai. Because you know that the only way to truly redeem a day like today is to sit with an afghan and sip something hot and spiced.

Ahh. Yes, days like today are an excuse to revel in everything cozy.

That said, I have not, in fact, sipped anything warm, and I don’t know where the nearest available afghan is.

Still, those are my thoughts on today.

*****

Sometimes Jameson does something that is at once so adorable that it makes my heart hurt. I can’t always explain why such things are adorable, or why they make we want to cry, but I have my hunches.

One such thing was that today, he fell asleep (at last, after having a grumpy few hours) in my arms, and when I carried him into the bedroom, I caught a glimpse of us in the mirror. His sweet baby arm was dangling, and his chubby baby fingers were clutching — even in sleep — the plastic lid he’d last been playing with.

And I suddenly had one of those heart pains.

My hunch is that those pains have something to do with him growing up someday.

*****

Yesterday, my sisters took off with my baby. They walked down to see Aubrey, and he happily followed them.

And I — well, I made a nice curried chicken soup, happily chopping potatoes and herbs and carrots with no interruption. I made a nice spiced pound cake, and washed all of the dishes as soon as I was done. I grabbed some scissors and scrounged up a little bouquet from the last of Mom’s gardens. All without interruption.

Oh, I loved those quiet hours in my mom’s kitchen, happily making a meal I knew she’d enjoy, that I knew would bless her. Felt like the “old” days.

But you know what? I sort of missed my little sidekick, pulling himself up with the aid of my pants…

fall and princesses.

It’s fall here.

The temperature is hovering somewhere in the warm 60’s, warm enough to just stand outside, with a summer skirt and bare legs, and feel fall.

The sky is all drama — you know how fall can be a bit over the top — with thick clouds, broken by occasional bits of golden sunlight.

The wind. Oh, the wind. It’s thick. That’s the only word I can think of. Thick and loud and warm and scented with bits of cut grass and dried leaves and cloud moisture.

It’s just the sort of day you dream of when you dream of fall.

Ryan would love it.

*****

Aubrey.

I touched her soft head, covered in the peach fuzz that says we’re related.

I touched her little cheek that will one day be full and chubby but for now is just delicate.

Like her long, thin fingers.

And her tiny wrist.

Even her lips are the tiniest, sweetest lips I’ve ever seen.

She smells fresh, like a baby should, even after two weeks in the NICU.

And her eyes are wide, and they smile when she sees and hears her daddy. Really, they do.

They smile.

She’s a delicate little princess baby, perfect, except.

Except when I put my hand on her sweet little chest, I felt a heart pounding, racing, struggling.

It’s okay, Little Aubrey!, I wanted to say. Don’t be afraid! Calm down! We love you and will take care of you! It’s okay!

But she can’t just calm down. She needs a miracle. She needs peace spoken to her heart, calm and quiet.

She needs a new heart.

Don’t forget. Pray for Aubrey.