Oh no! She caught me...
Mom, I can do it myself!
See?
Yawn...time for a nap.
and because Mom couldn't resist....the "look"
Mom, I can do it myself!
See?
Yawn...time for a nap.
and because Mom couldn't resist....the "look"
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
What a Birthday
This has been. I've spent most of it on the couch, curled under a blanket, heat patch on my back, desperately trying to find a position that does NOT cause excruciating pain to shoot through my back and legs, and playing Fallout3. A few trips upstairs to tend to George (who, unfortunately, has been playing or sleeping in his crib ALL day), and that's it.
It hurts to walk, it hurts to breathe, it hurts to sit, it hurts to stand up, it hurts to bend over. It hurts even more to walk up the stairs or pick up George. The Dr. at CareNow (that I spent 3 hours at on Valentine's Day, so romantic, huh?) said I don't have kidney stones. That's the good news.
Bad news? She thinks it's just a strained muscle.
I have had strained muscles before. It didn't hurt like this.
The painkiller, Tramadol, she gave me (along with the muscle relaxer) knocks me out for a good 5 hours. However, Sean went into work today so I am home alone with George. I would rather put up with the pain than be unconscious if he happened to get hurt or hungry. Driving is also a no-no. If I were to have one of those muscle spasms while I was driving (especially since now it's starting to creep down my right leg), I could possible get into a wreck. So here I sit, too tired to go back downstairs, trying to decide whether or not to get dressed (yes, at almost 6pm), again trying to find a sitting position that doesn't induce a spasm.
When I blow out my candles, I'mma wish for a new back.
It hurts to walk, it hurts to breathe, it hurts to sit, it hurts to stand up, it hurts to bend over. It hurts even more to walk up the stairs or pick up George. The Dr. at CareNow (that I spent 3 hours at on Valentine's Day, so romantic, huh?) said I don't have kidney stones. That's the good news.
Bad news? She thinks it's just a strained muscle.
I have had strained muscles before. It didn't hurt like this.
The painkiller, Tramadol, she gave me (along with the muscle relaxer) knocks me out for a good 5 hours. However, Sean went into work today so I am home alone with George. I would rather put up with the pain than be unconscious if he happened to get hurt or hungry. Driving is also a no-no. If I were to have one of those muscle spasms while I was driving (especially since now it's starting to creep down my right leg), I could possible get into a wreck. So here I sit, too tired to go back downstairs, trying to decide whether or not to get dressed (yes, at almost 6pm), again trying to find a sitting position that doesn't induce a spasm.
When I blow out my candles, I'mma wish for a new back.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Rock-A-Bye Baby
There is not much that tops rocking George to sleep. The books say that rocking your baby to sleep every night is a bad habit and they become accustomed to it. If you know me, you know I am not a big fan of the books.
No matter how hectic the day or how frustrating his temper tantrums were, when I hear the not so little snores coming from the creature in my arms I am at peace. His closed eyes and pursed lips are so kissable that I must restrain myself for fear of waking him up. Then I kiss his forehead anyway.
A soft grunt and he snuggles against me, still snoring.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Patience is a Virtue
I was all set to write an inflammatory post about my frustrating experience at the post office today, but I had to give George his bottle and rock him to sleep first. By the time I laid him down I remembered the conversation in prayer that I had with God last night.
After participating in all sorts of interweb activities that ended around 12:30, I went to bed frustrated and agitated about all sorts of things. Finances, expensive and time-consuming home improvement, worries about George being sick all weighed heavily on my mind while I coughed like crazy from the cold that has been bugging me all week. I realized that I had been lax in my prayers lately and had begun to rely on myself more than God.
Without going into the specifics of my worries (this blog isn't exactly a confessional booth), I began pouring my heart out in prayer. I whispered to God of the sins I had committed, of the opportunities for prayer I had passed up in the last few weeks, and then I thought one last time of all the bills and paperwork that needed tending. In that moment, I realized that none of it was important enough for me to stress out about.
"Lord," I said, "I don't have the strength to worry about these things. I am too weak to be burdened by this stress, and with You, I know I don't have to be burdened so. Here You go. Take my stress, take my worries, take it away from me, I give it to You. I will no longer worry about such trivial matters. I will wake up tomorrow morning refreshed by Your grace and I will deal with what needs to be dealt with but I will not worry over it."
My days have been centered around me (or George) lately, and it has gotten me nowhere. It dawned on me during that prayerful conversation that I needed to center my days around God. If I make Him the center, things will fall into place. All of a sudden my entire body relaxed and I was barely able to eke out an "Amen" and sign of the cross before drifting off to sleep.
I woke up this morning before Sean's alarm went off and was a little shocked to realize I wasn't coughing, and I had slept through the night. The next thing I noticed was that there was no coughing coming from George's room as there had been the last few mornings. So far today I have taken out the trash, run errands, paid bills, straightened out some bills that needed straightening, and I'm about to put a loaf of pear-raisin bread in the oven all on top of taking care of George. We still have a bit of our coughs lingering but neither of us are congested any more and I haven't been hacking up green and brown phlegm.
What a blessing the Lord has given me, a fresh chance to do things right. Some might argue that George and I were going to be getting better anyway since the sickness had run its course. If you want to believe that, go ahead. But I know that the peace I felt last night and throughout today (except for the short time this afternoon when I began to give in to the temptation of anger) comes from the Lord.
Besides, I made bread today, that has to be a miracle, right?
May the peace of the Lord be always with you.
After participating in all sorts of interweb activities that ended around 12:30, I went to bed frustrated and agitated about all sorts of things. Finances, expensive and time-consuming home improvement, worries about George being sick all weighed heavily on my mind while I coughed like crazy from the cold that has been bugging me all week. I realized that I had been lax in my prayers lately and had begun to rely on myself more than God.
Without going into the specifics of my worries (this blog isn't exactly a confessional booth), I began pouring my heart out in prayer. I whispered to God of the sins I had committed, of the opportunities for prayer I had passed up in the last few weeks, and then I thought one last time of all the bills and paperwork that needed tending. In that moment, I realized that none of it was important enough for me to stress out about.
"Lord," I said, "I don't have the strength to worry about these things. I am too weak to be burdened by this stress, and with You, I know I don't have to be burdened so. Here You go. Take my stress, take my worries, take it away from me, I give it to You. I will no longer worry about such trivial matters. I will wake up tomorrow morning refreshed by Your grace and I will deal with what needs to be dealt with but I will not worry over it."
My days have been centered around me (or George) lately, and it has gotten me nowhere. It dawned on me during that prayerful conversation that I needed to center my days around God. If I make Him the center, things will fall into place. All of a sudden my entire body relaxed and I was barely able to eke out an "Amen" and sign of the cross before drifting off to sleep.
I woke up this morning before Sean's alarm went off and was a little shocked to realize I wasn't coughing, and I had slept through the night. The next thing I noticed was that there was no coughing coming from George's room as there had been the last few mornings. So far today I have taken out the trash, run errands, paid bills, straightened out some bills that needed straightening, and I'm about to put a loaf of pear-raisin bread in the oven all on top of taking care of George. We still have a bit of our coughs lingering but neither of us are congested any more and I haven't been hacking up green and brown phlegm.
What a blessing the Lord has given me, a fresh chance to do things right. Some might argue that George and I were going to be getting better anyway since the sickness had run its course. If you want to believe that, go ahead. But I know that the peace I felt last night and throughout today (except for the short time this afternoon when I began to give in to the temptation of anger) comes from the Lord.
Besides, I made bread today, that has to be a miracle, right?
May the peace of the Lord be always with you.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
He can STAND!
My sweet little Georgie stood yesterday, all by himself. The look on his face was priceless, it was complete shock and surprise. I wish I had a camera on hand to capture the complete WTF? moment. I am certain that within a week George will be walking. And then I'll never catch up with him. At least he can't crawl out of his crib yet, whew. Poor thing is sick, too. He has this phlegmy cough that breaks my heart to hear.
In other news, the kitchen is half done, the track lighting is up and the walls are orange. Yes, orange. It looks much better than the barf-green that was there before. Now my kitchen walls look like a pumpkin.
In other news, the kitchen is half done, the track lighting is up and the walls are orange. Yes, orange. It looks much better than the barf-green that was there before. Now my kitchen walls look like a pumpkin.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Dodge Charger
*note: this is not the actual car, but a public domain image of a similar one
Since Sean's car is in the shop getting repaired because some moron neighbor hit it and didn't have the guts to leave a note, GEICO in all its wonderful insurance goodiness has graciously (yes, it's part of our policy. shhhhh, I want to think I'm special) given us a rental to use for the weekend. Sean had his choice between a Chevy Impala that was available immediately or the Dodge Charger that would take an extra ten minutes to get ready. Of course he chose the muscle car. Who wouldn't?
Before any of you get all uppity about me being excited about a Dodge, remember that this is just a rental. We didn't buy it, and we wouldn't buy one for ourselves if we had a choice. I actually detest Dodge vehicles (that includes Plymouth and Chrysler) because although they are cool and have nifty features, they quickly fall apart because they're made with very cheap parts that wear out quickly.
But since this is a rental, I can get all excited. This baby is HELLA fun to drive! It has guts. It roars. It purrs. It looks awesome. But it's going back Wednesday. Bah.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Comments
I deleted an essay-like comment today that appeared as a result of something I posted on StandFirm (see link on sidebar). This comment was entirely political, rather whiny, and posted to an entry about George's latest accomplishment. I deleted it because it was entirely inappropriate for the subject matter of my post about George.
If someone has something they want to say (even if I don't agree with it), I'm not likely to moderate comments as long as they are: posted to an appropriate topic (for future reference, any post about my son is NOT an appropriate place to whine about church politics), not spam, not containing foul language, and generally not downright hateful or vulgar.
If you feel that it is extremely important to contact me, a little bit of searching will come up with one of my email addresses. I am on Facebook. I am the newsletter editor for St. Alban's (a very easy to find email address). I am not some mysterious anonymous person on the interwebs who you can only contact by leaving an essay on a post about my son.
I do not want to have to remove the option for anonymous commentors, nor do I want to turn on comment moderation (I don't get enough traffic to worry about spam, and I get notifications via email for comments left here). If I have to though, I will. Now play nice.
If someone has something they want to say (even if I don't agree with it), I'm not likely to moderate comments as long as they are: posted to an appropriate topic (for future reference, any post about my son is NOT an appropriate place to whine about church politics), not spam, not containing foul language, and generally not downright hateful or vulgar.
If you feel that it is extremely important to contact me, a little bit of searching will come up with one of my email addresses. I am on Facebook. I am the newsletter editor for St. Alban's (a very easy to find email address). I am not some mysterious anonymous person on the interwebs who you can only contact by leaving an essay on a post about my son.
I do not want to have to remove the option for anonymous commentors, nor do I want to turn on comment moderation (I don't get enough traffic to worry about spam, and I get notifications via email for comments left here). If I have to though, I will. Now play nice.
Dallas March for Life
I am exhausted, but it was well worth it. George and I participated in the Dallas March for Life today. There were some tears from the moving speeches at the rally and friendships struck among the marchers. I have no idea how many people were there, but it was really great to see all the young faces.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Go Go Speed Racer
George and I just got back from getting the mail. Yes, we both walked down to the mailbox. The mailbox that is five houses down from us. George pushed his Sit 'n Stand walker all the way down to the mailbox and back. He was sooooo excited! My baby's gettin' so big. :D
...Forgive Those Who Trespass Against Us...
I read a very sad story in one of my CafeMom groups today about a woman pregnant with twins who was killed in a tragic car accident along with her unborn babies on Christmas Eve. The mom who posted this story was full of anger towards the woman who caused the accident, and the resulting conversation between us got me thinking about praying for those who have wronged us.
Most of us pray for those we love. We pray for family members who are ill, we praise God when something good happens. We pray for our friends, and we even pray for people we don't know who are suffering. But how often do we pray for those who cause the suffering?
It is very easy to say "I hate that person for what they have done" whether it be a terroristic world leader, our own president (former, current, or -elect), a criminal, or even someone close to us who has grievously wronged us. But how easy is it to forgive them? How easy is it to pray for them?
Forgiveness is not an automatic "Pass Go - Collect $200." It does not mean that we should automatically be BFF with the person. It means that we have acknowledged that a wrong has been committed, accept that it can't be taken back, and move forward. Whether moving forward involves reconcilement or estrangement is up to the situation and people involved.
But forgiveness is only a part of the command to "love our enemies." We should also pray for them. It can be as simple as "Please Lord, let that driver who just cut me off realize what he has done and repent" or "Please Lord, don't let that reckless and dangerous driver cause a fatal accident." I am learning how to pray for someone who has wronged me, my family, and my extended family. I don't ever want to see this person again, and especially don't want him near my son, but I ask that he come to know the error of his ways--that he will see how he is hurting those around him.
When I pray these prayers, I begin to feel a bit better about the situation. I put the problem in God's hands and it ends up being one more burden that I no longer have to carry.
"Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do."
Most of us pray for those we love. We pray for family members who are ill, we praise God when something good happens. We pray for our friends, and we even pray for people we don't know who are suffering. But how often do we pray for those who cause the suffering?
It is very easy to say "I hate that person for what they have done" whether it be a terroristic world leader, our own president (former, current, or -elect), a criminal, or even someone close to us who has grievously wronged us. But how easy is it to forgive them? How easy is it to pray for them?
Forgiveness is not an automatic "Pass Go - Collect $200." It does not mean that we should automatically be BFF with the person. It means that we have acknowledged that a wrong has been committed, accept that it can't be taken back, and move forward. Whether moving forward involves reconcilement or estrangement is up to the situation and people involved.
But forgiveness is only a part of the command to "love our enemies." We should also pray for them. It can be as simple as "Please Lord, let that driver who just cut me off realize what he has done and repent" or "Please Lord, don't let that reckless and dangerous driver cause a fatal accident." I am learning how to pray for someone who has wronged me, my family, and my extended family. I don't ever want to see this person again, and especially don't want him near my son, but I ask that he come to know the error of his ways--that he will see how he is hurting those around him.
When I pray these prayers, I begin to feel a bit better about the situation. I put the problem in God's hands and it ends up being one more burden that I no longer have to carry.
"Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do."
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