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from my vantage point: nine months.

25 Jan

Darling Boy of Mine,

The days are passing like minutes on the calendar; where have nine months come and gone so quickly? Today you are the same in age as the amount of time you spent tucked inside my belly, growing into that sweet, small, dependent babe we met face to face just three quarters of a year ago. Still the same Henry David we named you in those very first moments, now you are coming into your own in new ways all of the time.

What do I want you to know about where we are in this very moment? I wish I could capture so much more of you who are than I’ll ever be able–wish I had a replay button to catch every little expression you make. But then, who could keep up?! One of the things I marvel at most about you these days is your ability to light up any room. It only takes a moment, but with one funny face or laugh or nod you have us all softened and attentive to your next entertaining act. You pull me out of a bad mood or a sour day like nothing else can: a blessing to my spirit in a way only God could fashion…

On a lighter noter, you are outgrowing all of your pajamas!…and your socks and onesies and nearly anything else you’ve been wearing as of late. Your army crawl is getting to be more of an army run–nothing gets in your way if you’ve set your eye on something across the room. There are still no teeth in your sweet little mouth, but we think they’re very close. I doubt you’ll make it to your first birthday without a few pearly whites to show off when you dig into cake. You’ve added breakfast in the highchair to your repertoire, making that three square meals a day and milk inbetween. You will eat nearly anything we put in front of you, and finger foods have quickly become regular entertainment. Kruger is also a source of interest all day long. The poor dog loves you and doesn’t know what to do with you all at the same time. I hope you’ll both soon learn to play well together, and I trust a best friendship isn’t far down the road.

When dad gets home from work each day, we eat together at the table, play on the floor, splash around at bath time and always make sure to read a story (or stories) before the end of the day. We continue to pray health and safety and faith and joy over you, trusting that God will look after you and care for you in ways we can only supplement as your parents. When we say goodnight, you always look behind you and over your shoulder to see us leaving–not so ready for our time to be over but tuckered out after a busy, play-filled, action-filled day. Life is never boring with you as we mark your new discoveries and celebrate what a delightful little boy you are becoming.

I’m not ready to give up on you being a baby just yet, and as our first, I probably never will be. You are still cuddly and cozy and dependent and hesitant in all of the right ways, while fiercely independent and curious and adventurous in others. The contrast is striking to me as your mama, honored to have a front row seat as you change and grow so remarkably in this all-too-short amount of time. I’m so thankful to have three months between us and your first birthday, because I still want to take in “Baby Henry” for as long as possible. I don’t want to rush it along or wish it away or think too far ahead. You are marvelous just as you are, right at this very moment.

Nine months feels significant, because you’re surpassing the amount of time you lived in-utero by the amount of time you’ve been in the world. Suddenly, you feel bigger to me than I can contain, although I’m not sure why I’d want to try. You get better and better with every day (and I never thought it was possible!)

I love you beyond my ability to express it. So proud to be your mama. So blessed to watch you grow.

on the other side of a different kind of 40 weeks ;)

mommy

so far, so good.

21 Jan

At this stage of the game, I can check a few things off the list. Good thing there’s still half a weekend left :)

Last night we watched The Ides of March. I liked it well enough, but wished the ending didn’t feel so abrupt. No matter. We sweetened the deal with a little dessert mid-movie. I thought it fitting that our dishes ended up looking so patriotic. Unintentional, of course, but still fun. And with a little chocolate sauce drizzled on top, oh did it hit the spot!

Then over breakfast this morning we plotted out our grocery list, including items to cook up a few new (to our menu) dishes this week. First on the docket? A recipe for Faux Pho from Epicurious. In essence, it’s a close-to-authentic twist on the traditional Vietnamese noodle soup. Jason treated me tonight and cooked up a small storm in the kitchen. We love Pho, so this was fun to try. Will we make it again? Definitely. The only note I’d make is that the recipe says to simmer broth for 78 minutes. Given that the entire dish calls for 30 minutes of prep and cook time, total, we decided that 7 to 8 minutes would do. Sure enough. One little dash makes a big difference:) Oh, and we added fresh lime since that’s how we’re used to enjoying it, plus a little Rooster (Sriracha) sauce because we love a good kick. The serrano peppers will do it, but Sriracha adds an extra punch. All in all, a delightful meal!

If you decide to try it out, you’ll have to let us know how you like it. The whole house smelled wonderfully of fresh ginger, basil, garlic, chiles and lime. Yum!

The little one is fast asleep and we’re watching Storage Wars reruns before bed. I do love the weekend!

relaxed (and full:),

mm

weekend list.

20 Jan

Since I just ordered my 2012 planner yesterday (realized I can’t live without one after all, even with a smartphone lingering), I’m forgetting more than normal and feeling like I’ve maxed out storage capacity in the organizational compartments of my brain. As there’s a whole host of things I’d like to fit into the weekend, I thought I’d just plod through them here tonight. Then, I’m less likely to forget them, and besides, it’ll gear me up for a fun/busy/productive (maybe)/restful weekend. How can it be all of those things at once? Well, as things get checked off the list, there’s more room for rest. And as I prioritize resting (or relaxing here and there), I’ll be better fueled to find energy for the other things :)

It’s a grand plan. We have a (n almost) 9 month old. We’ll see how this goes:

1) Continue going to bed before midnight. If my fingers fly fast enough, I can make it!

2) Wake up, take care of Henry, enjoy breakfast, drink coffee, work out. (No expectations on the exact order in which all of this takes place.)

3) Vacuum and wash the floors. Snowy boots+driveway salt+Kruger+day-to-day routine=necessary. Plus, it’s too big a job during the week with the peanut in tow.

4) Start (um…) and finish thank you notes from Christmas. We’re not perfect around here. Nope. But we are thankful. Now just to let people know about that…

5) Read a few chapters in my book club book. I keep telling myself I’ll do this while nursing. Then, of course, the book would have to be on the right floor of the house when I decide such things. If I’m up, it’s downstairs, and vice versa. Two copies? The ability to remember everything when going up and down the stairs?

6) Relaxed time with the boys on Saturday night. We can make this happen. Already on the calendar :) Ok, well…on the agenda. The calendar, as I mentioned, is still in need of an update. It’ll happen.

7) On the subject of calendars, write down Henry’s milestone-ish moments in his calendar. Because there’s a whole lot that changes quickly at his age, and because I’m starting to forget what was when. I really don’t want to make it up. In fact, I refuse ;)

8) Something delicious (and perhaps new?) for dinner one of two nights. One of us has to make a grocery store run anyway–may as well pick up something interesting.

9) Church on Sunday morning. Love it. Need it. Gotta have it. Done.

10) Sunday afternoon family nap. We did this last weekend, and besides the whole gang waking up close to dinnertime, it was wonderfully uplifting. Problem solver: set an alarm.

11) Laundry. Perhaps. You know, as other things are taking place. Like playtime with H in his room or a half hour spent galavanting in the snow. Something delightful to get my mind off the laundry.

12) I dunno. Throw in a random something else that I’ve forgotten here, and that will inevitably come up. Mostly because I’m an even numbered person, and an 11 point list would leave me wide-eyed awake in bed tonight. 12 it is.

And that is all. Seem like a lot? Not enough? Just right? Only the weekend can tell. But if I don’t plan (or at least hope), the odds of any number of listed items making their way into the next two days become drastically reduced. Who knows. Maybe tomorrow we’ll scratch the whole thing and make snow forts all weekend. Maybe we’ll take a random adventure somewhere and ask the dog to handle the laundry. Regardless, I like having a list.

a little less cluttered for the exercise,

mm

whispering thank yous.

16 Jan

After leaving the pediatrician’s office today with the simplest possible diagnosis and a smiling boy, I realized once again just how blessed I feel that Henry has been and continues to be so healthy. I don’t take it at all lightly that he was born without complication, that he proved to be well from day one, or that he has moved through each day thus far without any significant health hiccups or snags. Lots of babies are born healthy, but so many are not, and while a lot of our decisions as parents play into the wellness of our children, it is no small thing when we are privileged to watch them grow without major incident.

I know that there will be scraped knees and plenty of bruises in Henry’s time. Perhaps even a broken bone or two, and colds and viruses galore. Those issues though, are par for the course as we grow up. No one manages to escape them all, and I don’t expect Henry to be any different. When I say I’m thankful that Henry is “healthy,” I mean so many aspects of his development that, for many children, are bumps in the road early on. It is truly something that a baby is born perfectly healthy when so many factors (both controlled and uncontrolled) have an impact on our growth in-utero.

The reality of all of this is so striking to me as a mom. When we get pregnant, portions of our baby’s health have already been established through the gene pool–then, even more of his or her future wellness begin taking shape at conception. As every aspect of an embryo (and then fetus) develops, each cell and nerve and organ and vessel must shape and grow in the exact right way in order for a healthy baby to enter the world. Does this not amaze at every turn?!

At five weeks along, an embryo has a heartbeat. At ten to twelve weeks, that same, tiny heartbeat is most often audible by Fetal Doppler to those of us outside the womb. Cells multiply at rates we can barely conceive, and only nine months later, an entire human being enters the world. How can I not fall on my knees in gratitude at the thought of our Creator, who has done such good and perfect things!?!

And then, to consider that He has entrusted one such healthy and joyful tiny person into our care. An entire being. A soul. A life that, in many aspects, we are responsible to sustain. A perfect blessing from God.

In moments like today’s, re-acknowledging the ways that God has met the desires of our hearts seems somewhat trite, but wholly necessary. For every day that Henry has been a part of our family thus far, he has also been the impetus for countless prayers of gratitude and thanksgiving. When he laughs, my heart whispers thank you. When he smiles, thank you. When he cries and I get to be the one to comfort him, thank you. As he grows and learns and changes, as he sees and feels and tastes and hears and touches the world around him, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.

As a mom, I will spend my whole life doing this. I marvel at the thought.

whispering,

mm

book club.

10 Jan

It’s official. After 20 some odd years of being an avid reader, a writer by heart and trade, a book store junkie and a lover of the well-crafted word, I am finally a member of a book club. Isn’t that just the most delightful thing?!

Tonight, I joined a group of smart and engaging women (most of whom I met for the first time) who have been meeting monthly for the past 15 years. Not all were a part of the group since its inception, but combined, they have an impressive history of regular meetings, totaling nearly 150 books read together over time. When I arrived, I immediately felt welcome and warmed by the group, who took time to introduce me around the room and to encourage my new participation.

I am certainly the newbie in the mix–these women have weathered all kinds of life together for a long time. But I love that I could enter into something they’ve cultivated all these years and still feel like I’ll have no trouble belonging. Says something grand about the group, if you ask me!

I’m really looking forward to the commitment (and thus the motivation) to read one new book each month. I often have multiple books in the works, but lately have a hard time finishing any one in particular. Now there’s a date on the calendar to remind me to keep going–just another discipline I’m trying to put into place as I work on embracing good and healthy habits in 2012. As I see it, there’s room for improvement in every aspect of life…and even though I love books, own plenty of them, and am tempted to buy more all of the time, I could really improve upon reading them (hard to do if I’m always picking up my phone or scrolling Facebook when I have a few extra minutes here and there.)

I love that I’ll now have a book club to spur me on!

A new book each month, a new bedtime, and the aspiration of embracing and committing to both changes here in the first bit of the new year. Something tells me I’ll be so much happier for the adjustments…

turning pages,

mm

take back the night.

9 Jan

I have a terrible habit of staying busy late, late, late into the night. I’ve done so often enough that when midnight rolls around on the clock my thought is, “Oh, good. Another hour or so before I have to wrap things up.” I’m constantly doing just one more thing before turning in. And it’s catching up with me.

I’ve been a night owl for as long as I can remember, but under normal circumstances, I genuinely like the morning, too. There were whole seasons where I’d be up at 5 or 5:30, reading, praying, journaling–getting an amazing jump start on the day. I loved being up before the world got going, loved the peaceful quiet of the early hours. And I suppose that’s partly why the late nights I’ve been keeping are pleasing at this stage of the game. With nothing left for Henry to need, I fall into a pace of my own; everything is once again quiet, and I dictate my own schedule for a little while. Unfortunately, this pace and routine aren’t affording me maximum benefit in my days.

Instead of being perky and ready to face whatever comes at me in the morning, I’m rather sleepy-eyed and quiet and unengaged. I don’t like how this translates when Henry wakes up earlier than usual, ready to play. Offering my best, especially to my family and close friends, is important to me–and I am admittedly not at my best as the sun comes up lately.

Maybe I sound like I’m being a little hard on myself, or maybe not. I know that being mom to a baby is tiring work, and that nights feel shorter and days feel a little longer than they perhaps used to. Still, I really just want to feel better about facing the day than I can after 4 or 5 hours of sleep. Goodness knows that’s not enough!

So here’s the plan. I’m still going to make the effort to pack in a few things each night that are a priority. Still going to blog because it keeps my writing self going. Still going to veg on the couch for a little while sometimes. But I’m going to make it my personal goal not to greet the forthcoming day before I head to bed. In other words, I don’t want to see the clock when it strikes midnight–and certainly not 1 or 2 a.m. There will be plenty of morning to greet me on the other side.

If part of life is striking a balance and acknowledging strengths and weaknesses in an effort to achieve even greater balance, order, peace, or quality of life, then this is a step in the right direction. That is, if I possess the discipline to begin it and see it through.

I’ll start with tonight…I’m feeling a bit under the weather and overtired from a few very short nights of sleep. It’s 9:55p, and I’m signing off for the day as I end this post. Lights out and asleep by 10:30p, I think. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll be more delighted to greet the morning when it gets here.

taking my nights back, thank you very much ;)

mm

stirred, not shaken.

8 Jan

Yesterday around lunch, I grabbed my bags and headed out for some much needed time with four of my favorite women. I had anticipated the weekend away in both good and challenging ways…looking forward to the chance to let my hair down around friends who have known me for nearly a decade (some longer:), and wondering how I’d feel about being away from my favorite little person overnight. As I prepped to go mid-morning, I struggled unnecessarily with the details of feedings and outfits and schedules for the babe, trying wholeheartedly to remind myself that 24 hours would go by in a blink. And then blink it did.

Arriving at my weekend destination with snacks and the like in hand, I joined an already budding catch-up session in the kitchen–each of us picking up where we’d left off weeks or months ago, laughing and crying and reminiscing straight on through the afternoon, then the evening. And conversation never skipped a beat–not once. Stories poured out into the middle of the room over crackers and dip, wine, dinner, banana bars, pj’s, bedtime. Long after we’d gone to bed we were still catching up, still sharing our hearts with each other like only the best of friends can do.

I saw the clock at 4am and remember little after that until morning. And five hours later, when I woke up without worry about feeding times and diaper changes and the like, I felt as though I’d slept for ten. Refreshed. Rejuvenated. Recharged.

We gathered at the kitchen table. We laughed. Sipped coffee over coffee cake, laughed some more. Then we each sat quietly for a bit and wrote a letter to ourselves about where we are now and where we hope to be when January 2013 arrives. It was the most perfect way to wrap up a visit I never knew I’d so badly needed.

Getting ready to face the day was reminiscent of college–all of the girls chatty in the bathroom, hair dryers and curling irons busy while we eeked out every last minute of our time together. Packing up and promising follow-up conversations over coffee and dinner before too much time passes by, we recounted 15 straight hours of conversation from the day before. You know you’re friends when…

There is something so sacred about friendship when it has withstood (and battled and weathered and triumphed over) the test of time (and distance and circumstance:). And without a doubt I can say that these women, the ones I trust implicitly with my heart and my scars, my absolute imperfections and worries and hopes and aspirations, are among those whom God has used in countless ways to bless my life and to draw me nearer to Him.

I left home yesterday worrying about what the next 24 hours would hold, letting the mama in me tug at all of the places in my heart I haven’t put down since last April 25th. And those places didn’t disappear overnight–in fact, they probably grew in the healthiest ways while I was gone. But as one of my dear friends reminded me this weekend, I needed the space to just be Molly for a little while. Still “Molly, Henry’s mommy,” just not, “Molly with the diaper bag and stroller in tow.”

On the drive home today (and really from the minute our mini-getaway began), I felt an amazing sense of peace. Of joy. Of God clearing out the clutter of the everyday to open my heart to all that He had waiting for me, among some of the most beautiful people I know. And when I came home, that precious, smiley boy was having a fine time with his daddy, grinning ear to ear as I came into view and making my whole self inhale in a different and perfect way.

My heart is stirred tonight. Lighter. My spirit, uplifted.

filled with gratitude,

mm

pressed, but not crushed.

3 Jan

I don’t know what to say, but I still want to say it. I’ve pushed an emotion quite far down for the better portion of a week, and now, in the quiet of the living room tonight, it’s all welling up in a big way. I feel vulnerable–more than I’m comfortable with, and uneasy–more than I’d like to admit.

What do you do when someone you love so much…someone who has always been strong for you…is suddenly frail? And not in a way you can ignore, but in a way that breaks your heart as you face it? It’s inevitable, with time, and you knew it would be. But for all the years you leaned and shared and laughed and cried and dreamt and honored and admired, this time–this season, isn’t one you ever wanted to admit would come.

It’s not that there isn’t hope, or that medicine and time can’t heal. I know they can. But age is still age, and the more things change in this case, the less they stay the same. My whole self is aching, and I just don’t really know what to do with the wave of frustration I have for my inability to do little but pray.

Pray.

It feels like a small thing right now, when I know that it’s the very biggest thing I can do. And I know that God will hear me and that He’ll answer in His way, but when there’s hurt or wavering hope, it’s just not as easy as we’d like it to be sometimes. At least for me, tonight, it’s not.

I’m not saying much–not being specific, because I want to protect the situation at hand and the people I love who are close to it and hurting, too. But I still needed to share tonight that there’s a little bit of air working its way out of my spirit–like a balloon with a pin prick of a leak that’s hardly visible, but impacting nonetheless. I’m not deflated, yet certainly unwell and uncomfortable in what has always been a very safe and secure part of my heart. I don’t like it. I won’t. It feels like nothing can fix it right now…

So there is discontent. A bit more of a distraction than I’d like to admit, although I should. There’s worry where prayer should be, and discouragement where hope should set in. I’ll keep working towards a different set of eyes for the situation–for peace and/or resolution to come swiftly for the people I love. And for me. Somehow it’s so much easier to imagine that peace when it’s someone else’s story, someone else’s family, someone else’s heart.

I hate how I’m feeling, but then again, God knew that before I did. And He sees me. Sees all of us. Thank goodness.

processing,

mm

so that happened.

31 Aug

Henry went to the doctor for his four month check-up and vaccines today. Turns out he’s not the only one who gets cranky when the needles appear. I just hate it. Taking him to the doctor for vaccines, that is. Oh, I just feel like the most terrible mother ever the whole way there, and I tell him I’m sorry for what we’re about to do…then he’s all happy until the fateful moment, and BAM! Three needles all at once and the horrible cry that starts out with complete silence for the longest time before erupting into tears and a trademark wail.

I know you know exactly which cry I’m talking about.

Then all day he’s sulky and subdued, except when he’s crying–which is most of the time unless he’s being held. So there’s that. It’s a good day not to feel like a bad parent for letting your child sleep in your lap at nap time instead of the crib. No really. You had to do it. He needed you. But seriously, he did.

Naturally, pass the baby (and walk him and love on him a whole heaping lot) was the name of the game in our household tonight. Can’t say I minded it one bit. H is especially lovey on a day like today. And two minutes after a dose of Tylenol for the fever, ten kisses on the forehead, tears of resistance (his, not mine) and a prayer, the babe was down for the count. Not a peep coming from the nursery all night.

So that happened.

And tomorrow is another day.

i’ll put money on a smiling boy first thing in the morning. he’s pretty much the best like that.

mm

discipline.

8 Aug

So I’ve been thinking a lot about this whole “craving order” sentiment and all that goes with it, and the longer I plot out how I’d like things to take shape, the more I recognize discipline as a main ingredient. It isn’t that I’m not disciplined in a number of ways, but that I’d like to be more disciplined in every aspect of life. Example? I’d like to find a way to fit blogging–and/or writing in general,  into daylight hours. The only way to make this happen is to be rigid about other parts of the day and to be disciplined about how I spend time when I have it. Same goes for being in the Word every day, finding time to go for a run, finishing things like thank you notes and laundry, and other such priorities in my daily life.

After a day when Henry has taken two good naps and I’ve accomplished more than I’m able to on his regular, micro-napping schedule, I’m feeling optimistic about integrating (or re-integrating) more discipline into my routine. I’ll consider it a mental/emotional/physical/spiritual overhaul of sorts, recognizing that I have to be patient in my attempt while I blend my idealistic plans with life as the mom of a peanut. (My first discipline my be to pray daily for enough hours of nap time to really get other items on track;) High on the list of essentials will be: earlier bedtimes for yours truly, getting ready for the day before J leaves the house for work in the morning and having a list of priorities and to-dos at the start of each day/week for checking off as I get things done (this always feels SO good!). When my mind has been focused on feeding and napping schedules, washing cloth diapers ohsofrequently and interactive playtime with a three month old, it’s a little harder make the grand to shift to things like dinner menus, bills, work items, cleaning schedules and, sadly, putting pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard). Still, they’re all a priority, no matter how much of a backseat they’ve often taken over the past few months–and I’m ready to reach new levels of order by tackling each one with a renewed gusto and sense of purpose. All I have to do is read Proverbs 31 on a daily basis for motivation (and look…time in the Word every day can happen just like that!).

I know I’m not far from progress, and the idea of change makes me happy in an inspired kind of way. I love dreaming about the possibilities that might crop up if I have enough discipline to seek them!

another day awaits, and my new bedtime is, well…we’ll get there. slow and steady, right?

mm

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