Child of Grace

Simple Joys

2009-07-10T09:31:00.004-04:00

Some things for which I'm grateful ...

Simple joy gotten out of a disposable pan turned vehicle for adventure

Blue sky and bluer river on a Sunday drive through the Adirondacks

Papa and his girls sharing a "forever moment."

Brave adventurer, exploring on her own ...

... and always returning to Mamma's arms

And at this particular moment, I'm happy for a sleeping baby in her swing, a happy toddler playing with her toys, a good night's sleep last night, and a rapidly-approaching weekend.

What are you grateful for today?

From My Youth ...

2009-07-08T08:59:00.005-04:00

For you, O Lord, are my hope,
my trust, O Lord, from my youth.
Upon you I have leaned from before my birth;
you are he who took me from my mother's womb.
My praise is continually of you.
Psalm 71:5-6

I have always felt a little embarrassed about sharing my testimony. It always just seemed too simple. "I was three years old when I asked my mom what it meant to be a Christian, she explained, and I prayed and asked God to forgive my sins and make me his child, and I've been a Christian ever since." I never strayed from the Lord, never had any spectacular sins from which he saved me, just lived a life of simple, steady faith.

People like to hear the impressive testimonies: "I was a vile sinner and God lifted me from the pit." Those are the ones that make us say "Wow, what an amazing and powerful God we worship." My husband's testimony, of God using divorce, teenage rebellion, and a broken heart to bring him to his knees in repentance and faith, leading him to the point he is now, of working toward becoming a professor of New Testament at a seminary somewhere (England, please?), is one that causes people to shake their heads in wonder. Then they turn to me, expecting something equally impressive, and I blush and stammer out my simple words, and see their faces fall as they politely murmur "how nice."

In recent years, though, I've slowly come to realize that I am wrong to be ashamed of my simple testimony. Something DA Carson once said in a sermon, quoting the above verses, first made me think of testimonies in a new light, and the more I think about it, the more convinced I am that we (human beings in general) have a wrong emphasis when it comes to hearing someone's tale of salvation.

Shouldn't we be more impressed by the story of one whom the Lord saved at a young age, and kept safe ever since? Shouldn't our eyes shine with wonder and awe at hearing someone honestly say "I have served the Lord ever since I was a child"? Someone who has seen and experienced the depths of sin, only to taste salvation at the end, yes, that is marvelous, but isn't it more marvelous when a person doesn't have to endure any of that, through his or her faithful following of Christ?

As LM Montgomery puts it in Anne of Avonlea:

"What are you thinking of, Anne?" asked Gilbert, coming down the walk. He had left his horse and buggy out at the road.

"Of Miss Lavendar and Mr. Irving," answered Anne dreamily. "Isn't it beautiful to think how everything has turned out. . .how they have come together again after all the years of separation and misunderstanding?"

"Yes, it's beautiful," said Gilbert, looking steadily down into Anne's uplifted face, "but wouldn't it have been more beautiful still, Anne, if there had been no separation or misunderstanding. . . if they had come hand in hand all the way through life, with no memories behind them but those which belonged to each other?"

I think Gilbert had the right idea--one way may be more romantic, but the other is more beautiful.

Or maybe, just maybe, there shouldn't be any "more" impressive or "less" impressive. Maybe every tale of salvation ought to bring us to our knees in worship, because every story is another individual picture of God's amazing grace. Because however simple our story may seem, it all points back to a God who is at once more simple, and infinitely more impressive, than anything else.

After all, isn't it all, in the end, about him, not us?

Captured Memories

2009-07-06T12:16:00.003-04:00

Just some fun pictures from our weekend north ...

Grace looking ever-so-sweet in her strawberry outfit, nestled snugly in her Papa's arms.

Joy being about as cute as any 20-month-old could ever possibly be

Playing with the ball in Oma and Aunt Lis's little pool. The water was FREEZING--way too cold for swimming, but I held Joy (my legs went numb) and let her splash the ball around. Great fun!

My little flower child, on the way home.

Mamma and her girls. Yes, Grace is screaming. She had just finished eating and was ready to be burped, not photographed.

I Can be Pretty Sneaky, When Required

2009-07-03T10:53:00.002-04:00

So, we totally pulled off the surprise. As I was unbuckling Joy from her carseat, Dad came barrelling out the side door, exclaiming, "No way!" followed by Mom who was wailing that the house was a mess and the guest room bed covered in clothes. Then they both cried a little.

Tee hee hee.

Poor Lis had to bear the brunt of Mom's indignation over the surprise. "How could you let me let the house get so dirty?" she asked. "Why didn't you make me clean?" Lis defended herself as best she could (I couldn't figure out a way to get you to clean without giving anything away!") and I finally interceded on her behalf by saying I was the one who insisted on keeping it a secret. I, however, received no censure for my role in it.

All in all, a very satisfactory result.

The ride up was beautiful--driving through the Adirondacks, seeing the mountains through the rainy mist, looking at all the lakes along the way, singing along with the soundtrack from "O Brother Where Art Thou" to keep Joy amused ... Grace is a marvelous traveler; she slept the entire way except for when she needed to eat. Joy still gets fussy after a couple of hours, but at least she was willing to be entertained by music.

We sat around and chatted last night (and drank some of Mom's black raspberry honey mead--mmm), and this morning has been spent relaxing and watching Joy express her delight at seeing Oma and Grandpa again. Oh yes, and eating. Dad has tomorrow off, and hopefully the weather will cooperate so we can have some outdoor fun!

Hope you all are having a wonderful holiday weekend! (Well, all my fellow Yanks. You Canadians will simply have to settle for a wonderful non-holiday weekend. Which is still pretty nice.)

Anniversary Wishes

2009-07-02T10:48:00.005-04:00

Today is Lis and David's fourth wedding anniversary. Happy Anniversary, you two! Here's to many more years of laughter and love. (And occasional kisses--ew, PDA!)

Excitement

2009-07-01T12:37:00.003-04:00

Mom and Dad? I don't know if you guys ever read this (I know someone from home shows up occasionally on my site meter, but I suspect that's Lis. Or maybe Karen. Or SOMEONE I DON'T KNOW WHO'S STALKING ME.)

Anyway, if you guys do ever read this blog, and if you're reading this particular post, stop. Right now. Lis and I are planning something for you guys, and while I want to talk about it, I don't want to ruin the surprise. Like all those birthday presents Lis spoiled by accidentally seeing them beforehand.

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Okay. I am trusting that my parents (who might or might not even read this, ever) have heeded my warning and are no longer reading.

We're going home for the Fourth of July!!!! We leave Thursday afternoon and won't come back until Sunday. We have not (obviously) told my parents, and Lis and I are so excited to see their faces when Carl and I just show up tomorrow night. I told Lis to have the camera ready.

(Lis--Elisabeth, also occasionally referred to as Beth (by me only) or Lizzie--is my sister, by the way. I don't know that I've ever clarified that on here. And she and her husband (David, referred to as David) have an apartment built on to my parents' house, where they live during the summer and school vacations. I might have mentioned that, but in case anyone was confused, I thought I should clarify.)

I came up with the idea spur of the moment last Sunday. Carl wasn't sure about it at first, seeing as how we're both so tired, and Joy is still fighting with that darn molar (do you know those things can take months to come in? Months.), and Grace is not-quite six weeks ...

But he firmly solidified his title as Best Husband Ever by changing his mind last night and agreeing to go.

I am amazed at how much energy I suddenly have. It's not quite 1:00, and I have my suitcase packed with my stuff and Grace's, am ready to pack Joy's as soon as her clothes come out of the dryer, tidied the living room, done laundry, tidied the bedroom ...

Carl should bribe me with a treat every weekend. I'm like a new person.

Of course, that box of chocolate Mom and Lis sent in the mail might be helping, too.

Monday Meanderings

2009-06-29T07:34:00.002-04:00

I'm trying to make it without coffee this morning. If I end up with a raging headache by 3:00, I'm blaming Carl. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't think twice about having a cup every morning. (Love you, babe.)

I have very little worth writing about. Grace is still gassy ... I found that if I feed her on only one side per feeding, she has less problems with gas. However, after two days of that, she started screaming from hunger All Day Long. So we're back to both sides and gas cramps. You just can't win.

Joy is still working on that fourth molar. (At this point, I am tempted to write a string of asterisks before the word "molar.") We are praying quite frequently for wisdom in knowing how much of her attitude problem right now is pain-related, and how much is her depravity showing ... and therefore, when we should discipline and when we should cuddle. I tend to lean more toward showing grace right now. We have an entire lifetime to discipline her, and I would rather have to spend more time later working on her attitude than accidentally break her spirit by over-discipline now.

I might have a different opinion by the end of the day, though. Unfortunately, my patience seems to diminish fairly quickly (another unfortunate side effect of not getting enough sleep). I'm working on that.

In a happier vein, we did have some pleasant moments this weekend. I bought a new shirt at Eddie Bauer (a crossover wrap top, perfect to wear with a nursing tank, and yet not a specific nursing top!), Carl got up early Sunday morning with Grace and proceeded to wash dishes for me (wonderful husband, even if he does have odd ideas regarding caffeine addictions), I talked to my sister a few times, we picked up a wedding gift for our friends who are getting married at the end of July ...

And my best friend got married out in California on Saturday. (On a side note, it seems so kindergarten-ish to talk about a "best friend," especially when I have a number of very dear friends, but even though Ethan and I aren't as close as we used to be, I still can think of no other phrase to describe him. We became "best friends" when we were eleven, and that bond has only strengthened throughout the years.)

Anyway. Even though we couldn't fly all of us out to California to attend the wedding, the church where they got married showed the ceremony live online, so I got to see it, at least. Ethan floated about two feet off the floor the whole time, and I couldn't stop beaming in delight for him and his new bride. He is best man at that wedding we're attending the end of July, so we'll get a chance to see him and (hopefully) meet her then. I can't wait!

In the meantime, two major celebrations coming this week--Canada Day on Wednesday, and the 4th of July on Saturday. Other than playing my favorite Barenaked Ladies CD on Wednesday, I'm not sure what we're planning to do either day. How about you?

One Month!

2009-06-24T11:03:00.003-04:00

Yesterday was Grace's one-month birthday. She is now officially an infant instead of a newborn. She weighs 9 1/2 pounds (have I mentioned how well she eats?), is 21 inches long, still has problems with gas (although less now than a few weeks ago), and when neither tired, hungry, nor crampy, is amazingly good-natured.

Grace at birth

Grace at one month
(No, it's not a real smile. It's a gas bubble. But it still makes for a cute picture.)

Choosing Thankfulness

2009-06-22T07:37:00.002-04:00

When another week starts and I'm faced with the challenges of parenting alone through the day ...

When Joy is irritable and disobedient because of mouth pain ...

When Grace is fussy and not sleeping well because the gas has come back ...

When outside family matters intrude and disrupt and fray ...

When my own body fights against me ...

When loneliness threatens ...

The temptation is to say "Oh pity, pity me!"

"Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you." -1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

"... giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ ..." -Ephesians 5:20

Thank you, Lord, for two healthy children.

Thank you for an older daughter who is usually so happy that her bouts of teething pain-related crankiness are always a shock.

Thank you that Grace does not have colic, but merely gas cramps.

Thank you for a husband who comes home in the afternoons and is willing to help, who doesn't expect me to do everything by myself.

Thank you for the reminders that I can't do everything myself, that I can't be Superwoman. Thank you for humbling my pride daily.

Thank you for the physical reminders to lean constantly on you, that I can do nothing in my own strength.

Thank you for being the Great Comforter.

Thank you for loving me even when I'm as whiny as Joy and as fussy as Grace.

Thank you for providing wisdom to make difficult decisions.

Thank you even for gray skies and rainy days--they make the sun seem all the more beautiful when it shines.

Thank you for worship music that turns my heart to you, for books that help me dwell on you, and for skating tapes that open my heart in worship through their beauty.

Thank you, above all, for sending your beloved Son to take my place, to bear your wrath for my sins, to secure my eternal pardon, and for loving me enough to take away my heart of stone and give me a heart of flesh that yearns for you. Thank you for your love.

Thank you that, no matter what happens in this life, nothing can ever remove your love from me.

Thank you for not being a distant God, but the God Who Is There.

Lord, help me today and every day to turn my eyes toward you in gratitude, rather than dwelling on me.

He is Always There

2009-06-19T08:08:00.004-04:00

The sun is always shining.

Have you ever thought about that? I hadn't, until I heard a line on a worship CD that said: "Though the clouds may hide the sun it's always shining." (I know, my thoughts are SO original today.)

It's true, though. Just because we can't see the sun doesn't mean it's not there--either something has blocked our ability to see it, or the earth has moved away from it. Even in the middle of the night, when the sky is at its darkest, the sun is still there; our faces have just been turned from it.

I need that reminder, often. If I can't see God, it's because either something has obscured my view of him, or I have turned my face away. He has not changed. He cannot change. He is always there.

I just need to seek his face.

"You have said, 'Seek my face.'
My heart says to you,
Your face, Lord, do I seek.'" Psalm 27:8

Brain. Is. Numb. Need. Chocolate.

2009-06-18T08:26:00.003-04:00

I tried innumerable times yesterday to write a post, and never had more than two minutes to spare. Today I have time, and my brain is so numbed I can't really think of anything to write.

Oh, I could talk about how utterly discouraged I am with being a mother, how exhausted I am, how I'd forgotten how lonely and--despite the craziness--oddly boring it is having a newborn ... but I prefer to not wallow in self-indulgent misery.

I have been reading Jerry Bridges' Respectable Sins. One of his chapters is on Anxiety and Frustration. I have already been convicted by much of what he says, and while at this point I can't quite banish the frustration entirely from my heart, I hope to at least prevent myself from indulging in an orgy of it.

Unfortunately, that doesn't leave me much else to write.

(I just sat and stared at the screen for about five minutes after writing that last sentence, trying to think of something clever and witty to end this.)

Um. It's raining today.

The End.

Children, and Skating.

2009-06-15T10:02:00.002-04:00

I've resorted to using the TV as a baby-sitter. Bad mother!

Although, does it count if it's old skating tapes that I'm putting onto DVDs (yes, the same old project--we have a LOT of skating tapes), and Joy only watches occasionally as she pauses in her running around, eating Cheerios, kissing the baby's head, and sorting her buttons?

Grace is currently sleeping in her bouncy seat, the first time she's ever done that. Joy is in a happy mood, and I'm so relieved that my first day on my own is starting so well. We even managed to call Dad this morning while I was feeding Grace and sing "Happy Birthday" to him! (I sang "Happy Birthday; Joy sang the phonics song.)

I had my doubts when Grace woke up crying literally as soon as I stepped into the shower this morning. As the water started pouring around my ears I heard something; first I hoped it was the music I put on for Joy, but Raffi never sounded like that! So I took a shower in about two minutes, paused only long enough afterward to put on some deodorant and finger-comb my hair before throwing on my clothes and rescuing my baby who was sopping wet and hungry!

Things improved considerably from there, though. Grace ate very well, sat happily in my lap afterward and let Joy kiss her and play with her fingers, and then submitted to the bouncy seat quite contentedly. Joy and I have had a few differences of opinion, but she's being good for the most part, and quite happy (when I'm not telling her "no," of course).

(Side note: I love watching Todd Eldredge skate. And I really love watching Joy pretend to skate along with him.)

(Another side note: I really love watching Steven Cousins. Whether he's skating or not. There ought to be a law against someone being that charming.) (and yes, my husband reads this blog)

I think I'm getting more distracted by the skating than Joy!

I've almost finished reading Knowing God, which means I can soon start on Respectable Sins, by Jerry Bridges. I usually manage to sneak in a few minutes of reading while nursing Grace, so I've been able to move along at a decent pace with my reading. Writing, not so much, but at least I can blog on a fairly regular basis! Even if, as today, I have nothing in particular to say.

The Sleep Game

2009-06-13T08:10:00.002-04:00

So, I've figured out Grace's sleeping problems.

If she falls asleep anytime between 6:00 and 8:00 pm, she will inevitably want to be awake at some point later in the night, usually around 3:00. She will want to be awake for well over an hour at this point, and she will not understand why her cruel parents are desperately trying to get her back to sleep. She may even start fussing if said parents attempt to lay down with her, and she certainly will not appreciate being laid down by herself, even if her eyes are closed and she looks asleep.

Now, the only trick is convincing her to nap earlier in the afternoon so that she stays awake during that crucial two-hour period. Any suggestions?

Trusting in His Strength Alone

2009-06-11T11:24:00.002-04:00

My optimism regarding Grace proved to be unfounded. The last two nights she has been awake more than asleep. And, of course, now that Carl is back at work, that meant I was the one up with her.

On the bright side (for me), her gas cramps seem to be completely unrelated to my diet, so at least I don't have to endure a miserable baby AND no chocolate to help get me through! It also doesn't seem to be escalating into colic (just a few more days before we're out of the woods on that one), so hopefully after a month or so her digestion will develop and she will settle down.

That's the hope, anyway.

I am relying wholly on God's grace to get me through right now. Joy is still clingy and whiny and given to tantrums, and we're still having to balance between cutting her enough slack given her teeth situation and the life changes, and still disciplining her when it is needed. So between her, and a baby who is in pain after every meal, and who can only be comforted by pacing with her in one's arms, I am feeling quite worn out.

But God is still good. I spent a bit of time this morning praying for patience and strength, and that God would use this time to refine me (in other words, that I wouldn't indulge too much in self-pitying whining), and then I took the time this morning to pray three separate times with Joy, both for her and for Grace. If nothing else, such times as these always remind me that I can do nothing apart from God's strength.

And I know that this time will not last. Eventually, even if it takes a full three to four months, like it did with Joy, Grace will be able to sleep through the night and digest her food properly. Eventually Joy will have all her teeth in and adapt to life with a new baby. Eventually my body will regain strength. Eventually I will have time to study and write again.

The trick is, as Dad told me with Joy, not to try to force yourself to enjoy every miserable moment because you know it will all pass, but to capture the joyous moments and let the miserable ones go. Easier said than done, but it's a good habit to try to establish.

So I appreciate prayers, but I'm not looking for pity--just encouragement and reminders to lean on God through this!

Update, with blessings

2009-06-08T07:41:00.003-04:00

Last night Grace went 5 1/2 hours between feedings, then fell back asleep immediately after her 3:30 feeding and slept until 6:15 this morning. I am unutterably thankful.

Of course, she also fussed steadily for two hours before her 10:00 feeding.

Overall, though, I think the gas pains are lessening. They're still there, certainly, and she still has a hard time sleeping during the day, but hopefully we can avoid any more night like Saturday night, where the exhausted Mamma finally fell asleep on the floor next to the bassinet, because Grace wouldn't sleep on me, but kept waking up every five minutes in her bed to scream in pain, and needed to be patted back to sleep. It was not a fun night.

Joy's third molar is so very close to breaking through, which will only leave one--one!--and then hopefully her mouth will gain some relief. I'm hoping her fits in general will settle down now that life is starting to get calm again. The grandparents have all left, and while her great-grandmother will be here for a few days starting tomorrow, GG is a very calm, laid-back person who shouldn't cause too much of a ripple in Joy's world. And GG loves to go for walks, so Joy should be able to get outside plenty, which always makes her happy.

Carl went back to work today--just a half day today, since we have friends we haven't seen in almost a year stopping by this afternoon (she's pregnant with their first child, so I'm unloading all the maternity clothes I can onto her! YES!) and he wants to see them. Part of me is nervous about him not being here, but part of me is relieved that we can start settling into a regular routine.

Meanwhile, I am reading this book, which is excellent, and still trying my best to get through the Psalms (it might be two months instead of one, but I'm doing my best), and nobly trying to resist the temptation to start a brand-new story.

And now Grace is fussing, so I will end the update and go comfort her!

Discouragement

2009-06-06T10:43:00.003-04:00

I'm feeling discouraged. Grace has started to have problems with gas this week, which is causing her to have a hard time sleeping, and now she's getting reluctant to eat ...

I was so happy to have a non-colicky baby, and now I'm afraid that I'm in for another three months of torture, just like with Joy. And that makes me think that it's something I'm doing wrong, that makes my babies miserable. I burp, I make sure to feed ten minutes on one side, I always check to make sure she's properly latched, I pump her legs and circle her hips, I even do baby yoga ... and yet nothing seems to cure it. Worse, I don't seem to be able to prevent it.

It's very frustrating. And discouraging, as aforementioned. Am I really that lousy of a mother?

It doesn't help that Joy is still throwing a temper tantrum every five minutes, which makes me feel like a bad mother on two fronts.

I'll be glad when we're through this stage.

ETA: On the bright side, my new Nikon D40 arrived in the mail today, along with five new books, so my attitude has improved tremendously.

Beautiful

2009-06-05T08:33:00.001-04:00

Rambling, But With a Point Eventually

2009-06-03T11:23:00.003-04:00

Last night I had my first post-baby meltdown. Not bad, considering it took ten days. (My first meltdown with Joy, I think, happened at one day. Dang hospital.) It wasn't even really related to Grace--aside from the fact that it happened during one of the middle-of-the-night feedings and was likely caused mostly by exhaustion. No, it was frustration over Joy's behavioral problems (why, whenever she has a tooth coming in, does she forget rules we have enforced from birth? Can anyone explain this to me?), over miscommunications with Carl, and over the fact that I didn't seem to be able to do anything right yesterday.

Normally I don't tell people about my meltdowns; although they are perfectly normal and even expected in those first six weeks when exhaustion colors everything, people today are so quick to jump to the assumption that one is suffering postpartum depression if one is not all sunshine and roses all the time over the baby. I get tired of those looks of deep concern, the cautiously worded questions, the assurance that depression is perfectly normal.

People, I was depressed for the first year of my marriage (dang birth control pills). My mother was depressed for several years of my childhood. I know what depression looks like. Occasional late-night meltdowns are not it.

And no, even when Grace would not settle down to sleep last night, I did not resent her, and I never contemplated suicide. Although I would have been perfectly happy if someone had shot me with a tranquilizer gun that would knock me out until Grace is sleeping through the night and Joy's molars are in.

I think I got distracted from my original point by my rant against PPD. Where was I going with this?

Ah yes. God.

Even in the midst of my frustration last night, I was able to find a measure of peace. Even when I really, really wanted to be bitter against my husband over all the issues-from-non-issues we'd had, I couldn't. I had decided last week that I was going to take advantage of being chained to a chair or sofa several hours out of the day and night for nursing by reading through the Psalms in one month. Even after only a couple days of reading, my outlook has improved enormously. Last night, when I was fighting back tears, a seething mass of irritation (but trying not to let it show in my body, because I didn't want to interfere with the nursing, naturally), I kept looking at my open Bible on the shelf next to me. I knew I should go ahead and read the next Psalm--but I knew it wouldn't be a bit of good as long as I was harboring bitterness. So I prayed that God would change my attitude, freely admitting that I didn't want to have a better attitude, that I wanted to wallow in misery for a while, but I knew that I needed to die to myself and be more like Christ.

And God worked and softened my heart, and when Grace finally decided to settle down and sleep, I was able to crawl into bed and sleep too, with a heart free from anger and sin, and I woke refreshed.

And as an added bonus, both girls slept until 8:30 this morning, which gave me an extra hour of sleep, too!

A Walk in the Park

2009-06-01T10:48:00.006-04:00

Saturday marked Grace's [Little Bug's] one week birthday, and we celebrated by going to a nearby State Park for a short walk. Carl would have enjoyed more of a hike, but since Joy [Bug] insists on walking everywhere herself now, and I'm still supposed to be taking it easy so as to recover, it was a leisurely short walk. Joy kept her grandparents entertained, Carl carried Grace in the Baby Bjorn, and I meandered along with the camera.

Now that she's started walking, she really hates being carried or riding in the stroller. Thankfully, Oma and Grandpa (who seems to be undergoing a name change himself--the closest Joy can get to "Grandpa" is "Bop-Bop") have infinite patience--naturally!

Carl just can't get over how tiny Grace is. We've gotten accustomed to Joy, who may be small for a nineteen-month-old, but is still considerably larger than a newborn. Grace just snuggled happily into the Baby Bjorn, and Carl could have easily forgotten she was even there.

It was a perfect day, weather-wise. Blue skies, puffy clouds, warm sun ... the only thing that would have made it better would have been if Mom and Dad's car hadn't gotten a flat tire which threw everything off and made for a very long ride home for them Sunday on the spare.

After walking along the trail to the next parking spot, I decided walking back to the car might entail "overdoing it," so Mom, Joy and I waited while Dad and Carl went back for the cars. Mom's never considered herself much of a photographer, but she managed to get some fun shots of Joy and me playing in the grass.

Joy's struggling a little bit these days--please pray, if you would. She still absolutely adores her baby sister, but she's starting to show the strain of so many changes. New sister, Mamma can't pick her up, grandparents here, grandparents gone, other grandmother here, schedule completely thrown off ... it's be a wonder if she weren't exhibiting signs of strain. Not to mention those darn molars! We're trying to make sure we spend plenty of time with her and assure her as often as she needs to hear it that we love her, and I'm making sure to hold her in my lap (since I can't pick her up) as often as I can. So we're working through things, but she could still use prayer. And we could, too!

Grace is still a remarkably good baby. She gets about one fussy period per night, and other than that sleeps, eats, and otherwise exists quite peacefully. I'll be happy when she stretches her nighttime sleep periods to four hours instead of three ... but I'm not complaining.

God is good!

One week (almost)

2009-05-29T15:51:00.004-04:00

Tomorrow will mark one week since Little Bug's birth. I am still shocked over how different this week has been than Bug's first week. Of course, almost half of that week was spent in the hospital, which was a major change right there. I've already talked about the difference between having a colicky baby and one who actually enjoys life (I still feel sad for Bug when I think how miserable she was for the first four months of life--poor little thing; I wish we could have made it better!), but I'm mostly amazed at the difference in us. Carl and I are so much more relaxed and confident, and all of us are having a better time.

My mom and dad have been great this week--Mom has cleaned and organized my bathroom and laundry room, helped me pack away winter clothes and pull out my summer wardrobe (including a few outfits which I am hoping, rather than expecting, to wear), washed dishes every day, done laundry for me, and otherwise made herself an indispensable housekeeper. I might not let her leave. Dad has helped Carl out with innumerable projects around the house, my two favorites being replacing the old shower head that dripped and trickled water on one with one that actually sprays, and cleaning out the dryer vent and getting it facing out the window so I can use my dryer without it shaking the whole house down and filling the air with moisture.

Bug has loved having her grandparents here, and since I am forbidden from picking her up for a few weeks (technically six, but I have a sneaking suspicion my body will recover before then), I've appreciated having two sets of extra hands to help with basic things like getting her in and out of her crib, high chair, bathtub, etc, as well as just picking her up and hugging her when her molars get hurting too badly. She's also kept us highly entertained just by being her usual delightful toddler self, and every time I put her hair in pigtails I wonder who took my baby and gave me this little girl in her place.

She's adapting quite nicely to having a baby sister--the picture I posted last time is just one example of how affectionate she is. She always wants to pat the baby's head, and just recently she's started rubbing cheeks with her. Yesterday, during Little Bug's first bath, Bug was in tears of sympathy with Little Bug's shrieks and wouldn't be comforted until we wrapped Little Bug in a towel and showed Bug that her sister was really just fine. No jealousy at all yet--we'll see what happens in a few weeks when we've run out of grandparents to stay with us and Papa is back at work full time. But I think she'll be fine. When she's not teething, she really is just a sweet, joyful little thing.

Which brings me to my final point. I never intended for Little Bug to be our baby's final moniker--that was just a temporary stop-gap until she was born and I had an idea of her personality. I've considered Kitten, Squeak, Mouse, and Squirt, but I think I'm going to go with Grace, because that is what God has shown us over and over again in just this one short week of her life.

And Bug and Grace just sounds too weird, so I'm going to confuse everybody (hey, it's my blog, I can be confusing if I want to!) and start referring to Bug as Joy. Joy and Grace--our two gifts from God.

Kisses

2009-05-27T21:02:00.002-04:00

Bug, clearly, is warming up nicely to little sister.

Not Better or Worse, Just DIFFERENT

2009-05-25T19:53:00.003-04:00

After having one daughter with colic, who was miserable regardless of anything we did, who had a horrible time sleeping, who took a week to learn how to nurse, having a child who eats naturally, sleeps more than she is awake, and is very easily consoled when upset, is remarkable.

Not that we love Little Bug more because she is easy where Bug was hard, but it is a blessing, now that we have two, to have this one be easier.

And she is so sweet!

She's Here!

2009-05-24T11:33:00.002-04:00

Little Bug was born Saturday, May 23, at 8:48 am. Labor was only 5 1/2 hours long (don't hate me, Sunrise!), and while I didn't get my waterbirth due to two women in line for the tub ahead of me, everything went smoothly. Little Bug was 7 lbs, 19" long, no jaundice (Praise God!), and we are home and resting. I will post more (with pictures) when I have time!

In Which, Apparently, I Am Grumpy

2009-05-22T08:17:00.002-04:00

I'm hoping the overall "blah-ness" I'm feeling right now is due to the fact that my baby is due tomorrow. Last night I woke up at 2:30 to go to the bathroom and couldn't get back to sleep until about 5:00, literally just waiting for contractions to start. Needless to say, they did not. I'm not sure why I was so convinced I was going to go into labor last night, but I was. Note: Gut feelings are not always accurate!

So today I'm left a little sleepy, a little cranky, and still strongly suspecting something is going to happen between now and Sunday. It probably won't, but let's just say my body feels weird right now. No other way to describe it. However, that could simply mean that the fruit and yogurt parfait I had for supper last night didn't sit well.

I'm glad the baby is coming soon, because she will give me an excuse to do something I've been feeling the need to do for a while (I know my sentences are awkward right now; blame it on lack of sleep). I want to cut back (again!) on how much time I spend on the internet. Less time on facebook (like maybe only checking it every other day instead of two or three times a day) (or more, if I'm perfectly honest), less time blogging (again, maybe only updating every other day instead of every day). There was a little while that I was considering giving up the blog altogether, but I've grown too attached to my limited number of readers to abandon you all. I will say that it is slightly frustrating, no matter how many blogs I visit and comment on, I can't seem to attract any more readers to this one than the handful that's already here--and most of you know me either through fanfiction or real life. Maybe I just don't write interesting enough posts?

To end on a happier note that the general disgruntled tone I seem to have overall in this post, I have to share a bit of Bug cuteness. (Verbal, sorry--the camera is packed away in the hospital bag, so we haven't been taking pictures for a week or so.) At my baby shower, the laides gave her a stuffed bunny from Build A Bear, dressed in a fairy costume complete with wings and a wand. Bug can't quite get her mouth around "Bunny," so she refers to it as "Bo."

Bo the Fairy Bunny. I love it.

Voice of Writing

2009-05-21T07:54:00.004-04:00

One of the hardest things for me in starting my most recent story (which I did, finally, start last night) has been deciding what tone it should have. Should it be light-hearted and frothy? Should it be more serious; a somber, dark fairy tale? Could I find a middle ground, or did I even want to?

I have always been rather good at picking up other authors' styles. (Well, some authors. CS Lewis's combination of brevity and description leaves me entranced and awed. Dorothy L Sayers sparkles through her stories with clever wit and satire, until you realize two or three chapters later that you're pondering philosophy at the same time you're wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. They are geniuses. I don't aspire to their level.)

For the most part, though, if you read any of my fanfiction, you'll see that I have a fairly easy time picking up on an author's style. This is a good thing in many ways. I have learned the art of description from LM Montgomery. I have learned the art of sly one-liners from Jane Austen. From Brian Jacques I have learned when and where to insert simple humor to lighten a tense situation. From Lloyd Alexander I've learned ... well, just about everything. All the authors I read so often have developed my own writing skill.

The fact remains, though, that I don't have a particular tone or voice that is just me. People can't pick up something of mine and say "I knew this was your writing the minute I looked at it." (You could from my atrocious handwriting, but if it's typed you're out of luck.) Every story has a different feel, a new flavor.

In some ways, this is a good thing. It means I am able to explore many different avenues of writing. In my children's book, I faced the challenge of simplifying everything without dumbing it down. For my romance novel, I had to learn how to portray true, raw emotion without turning the situation into a soap opera. Every novel provides a different challenge, every story a new stretch of my abilities. That is definitely a good thing.

The downside is, it would be all too easy for me to unconsciously imitate another author in my writing and never develop my own unique voice. Depending on what type of story I'm writing, I can almost always find an author who has written something in the same vein, and so I can just naturally follow his or her style. That's laziness. That's close to plagiarism--worse than stealing their words, you steal their very voice. My biggest struggle in writing my children's book was not the simplifying. It was making sure I wasn't copying Edward Eager and E Nesbit. Use them as inspiration, certainly. Copy their style outright? Never.

Back to my current project ... I've never written, or even really read, a story quite like the one I'm envisioning. It started out as a light-hearted jaunt, something along the lines of Patricia Wrede's Enchanted Forest series. Then a few other ideas crept in, and the next thing I knew it had taken a serious turn, dealing with ideas like grace and judgement and sacrifice.

So how to write it? I don't want it to be bleak. I also don't want to obscure the weightier themes with too much froth. I have to find some middle ground, a voice that is serious at times and humorous at times, finding balance between the two. I'm also adamant against writing in first person, which would possibly make things easier. (I'm starting to think that first person is the lazy man's approach to story-telling.) Third person limited, that's what I'm going for.

So, this is a good challenge for me, another step on the journey. To write a story without any of my standard authors to fall back on. As Peter says to Harriet in Gaudy Night, "Let's see what sort of a detective you make when left to yourself," we will see what sort of an author I am left on my own.