Nine Months

It’s hard to believe how quickly time passes and how quickly our children grow. It seems like yesterday that Kate was a teeny-tiny bundle in my arms. Now her baby sister is busy chasing her all over the house. God has richly blessed our family with two beautiful, healthy girls. They are such joys—and teach us such patience! It’s truly amazing

The little one had her nine month well visit today. She’s grown three inches in the past few months! Good gracious. I knew she had gotten longer and thinner, but I wouldn’t have guessed a whole three inches. She’s gained a little less than a pound, so she’s really changed how she looks.

She’s crawling, saying a few things (mama, dada, sis, buh-buh), getting up on her knees, learning to use a sippy cup and having an over all great time. She’s a fun little gal, pretty content and adores her big sister.

With our visit we also learned that they have totally re-written the guidelines for what little ones can eat. Everything is up for grabs except honey (due to botulism) and anything that she can choke on. I guess we have some new foods to try!

Love you Gabriella!

A peaceful Sunday Afternoon, Or Not

Two thirty. So, it’s Sunday afternoon. Kate gets up from her nap—Gabby has yet to have one. We make a mad dash to the store. I hate to go to the store and the weekend and try not to patronize businesses on Sunday as much as possible, but I goofed. I was sure I had ground beef in the freezer, but I couldn’t find it. This would normally just mean a change of menu, but we had invited guests for dinner.

Three forty. We make it through my grocery list—no need to come back tomorrow, right. We get through the checkout. By this time, I’m holding the baby who is tired of sitting. She likes to fall over and be held like a battering ram—I don’t know why, but it makes completing a transaction and pushing a cart of groceries (and Kate) rather difficult. As we walk out the door it hits me—I forgot the beef. It wasn’t on my original list. I sigh, look at the cart full of groceries and my girls. There’s no way. Besides there has to be beef in that freezer, right?

Three fifty. So we get home. I put the baby to bed. Run out and get the perishables, the rest can wait. Dig through the freezer one more time. There it is. Ugh, I wasted over an hour, but at least I can make dinner. I put the beef in the microwave to thaw and start cooking. Justin calls to say that his new colleague’s power is off. They’ve been unpacking as I’ve been preparing dinner. He’s on his way. I pop the lasagna in. We should be good to go. The power flashes. Ah, I thought the power company must have turned on the power for our friends.

Four forty-five. Justin runs upstairs to get the baby because he woke her up when he got home. He says it’s hot. He always thinks it’s hot. It is a bit warm. He pops his head out the back door the air conditioner isn’t running. The blower is though. I check on our lasagna. It’s not bubbling yet, soon I thought. Justin calls the home warranty company to request service for the air conditioner. The lasagna is still not bubbling. Something is wrong. He cancels the service call. I call the power company. Two to four hours their message predicted—if only.

Five fifteen. We call our dinner guests. We decide to go out to dinner.

Six thirty. We get home just before the electrician. He was a nice fellow. He chatted with us as he checked the lines. 110 on the left 110 on the right. He jokes, “I didn’t go to MIT, but 110 and 110 should equal 220.” Yep. He says he’s never seen anything like it—that’s never good. They teach you that in home ownership 101, by the way.

He says something about the lines melting together. Melting doesn’t sound to good either. He makes a call. Hooks our meter back up (which isn’t spinning by the way), so we have lights. He leaves us to take another call. No offers from the company to allow us to take our two small children to someplace cooler, nothing. Just an, “I have another call, we’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

Seven forty-five. Inside, it’s 82 degrees downstairs and 87 upstairs; I put the girls to bed. Gabby drifts off. Kate plays quietly and asks for three cups of water.

Eight thirty. Eventually we let Kate come down. The baby is sleeping peacefully in her diaper. Kate breaks beans with me. I hear a truck out front. They are back—it’s after nine. Justin asks for a heads up before they pull our power.

Ten-twenty. It’s still 87 degrees upstairs, but I really want Kate in bed before the power goes off, so we read a book, sing a song, and off to bed she goes.

Ten-forty. They are taking us off line. We grab a flashlight and head upstairs. We may as well get ready for bed. Pretty soon we should be cooling down.

Eleven. Our power is back on. The air runs all night recovering from the past seven hours of heat building up.

Three (AM). The baby wakes up. She finally got cold enough to need her pajamas.

Seven. Kate was up before her alarm too because she wet the bed—imagine that after three cups of water. But it’s cool in our house and our oven works!

As a parent there is a fine line we walk. We have to demand our children’s obedience without becoming impatient. There can’t be a lacksidaisical approach, at least if you have a two year old like mine who pushes every limit.

Our minister offered a lesson in patience this past Sunday and I’ve been trying to examine my discipline through the lens of that sermon. There are some gray areas. There are times that I must demand her immediate obedience. These are times that it’s hard to determine, even in my own mind if I am being impatient or expecting what is necessary—to keep her safe, the baby’s needs met, etc. There are times I meet her opposition with love and grace. Times that I am completely in control, even when she is out of it. There are other times that I must admit I am impatient. I know I need to discipline her to do as she is told, but that should be done in a sense of love and duty, not frustration. That can be difficult with a hard headed two year old.

He offered that we should each put ourselves in a position to have our patience tested—anyone need some practice? I’ll lend you my two year old for a couple of hours. Just kidding.

Discipline your son, and he will give you peace;
he will bring delight to your soul.-Proverbs 29:17

No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. –Hebrews 12:11

Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. -Colossians 3:12

Hostage Crisis

So the other day I went to pick up Kate from the child care center at the gym. Someone else opened the door and the little booger took off. She ran the whole length of the gym and back, darting between the equipment every time I got close. People watched and laughed, but no one tried to help. I finally caught her, held her hand firmly and escorted her to the car. There I had a firm talking to. I refused to talk to her the whole way home—a punishment worse than death. Then I took a hostage. Henry, the female lamb, went up on the top shelf. Then I told her next time she could get him back if she stayed with me. She got him back yesterday. Today we have to go to the bank—Henry is up for grabs again. ; )

A Life without Advil

After months and months with pain, I am finally living without Advil. It’s a cause for celebration. Since Gabby’s nursing I could never take anything stronger, even when the pain was at its worst.

I had tried all the stretches that the physical therapist and later the chiropractor gave me. I even tried some online resources, but every time I did those things I felt that my mobility was actually lessened by the pain it caused. I quit them for a few days and noticed a bit of improvement. Then I started dealing with things in my own way. Walking. I didn’t have the ability to stand for more than a couple of minutes and walk for just a couple minutes longer than that, so I started walking for four. Yesterday I walked for an hour on the elliptical at an incline and with the resistance turned up.

I’m not completely pain free, I’ll admit, but I have my life back. The pain is very minimal and I can chalk it up to getting a little older. I can go to the store and wait in a long line without tears springing to my eyes. I can play with my children. I can push them on the swing set. I could walk for hours.

I watched my grandmother loose much of her independence and mobility to sciatica. I was so afraid that I would be in the same place she was, with two little girls who needed and wanted me to be able to move. I am grateful that God has seen fit to heal me.

Independance Day

I took a little time to think about the holiday yesterday. Most of our past 4ths have been spent celebrating with friends, food and fireworks in Evansville. There were 8 years of that for me. Even after Justin’s parents moved away we were able to meet up with friends there for a few years. We enjoyed that, but time has come for a break from that, at least for awhile. Last year we were in the middle of ‘the big move’ and didn’t make any plans, which was to our advantage, since we held my grandmother’s funeral that day. This year I took some time to read The Declaration of Independence. It had been quite awhile since I read through the whole thing—if it’s been awhile for you, you might ought to take a look (here) too. We are truly blessed to be free. It was to be a quiet evening at home.

Well, that was the plan. Just as the potatoes were wrapped to put on the grill we got a call that the new professor needed help unloading. It wasn’t what I had in mind, but we packed up the girls and headed over there. We both helped for awhile and when the girls got tired of waiting patiently I stood with them and waited. We did a Gatorade run for everyone too. Justin invited them out to dinner, unfortunately we didn’t have enough food planned for them too. We were late getting home and collapsed into bed last night.

I hope you had a good Fourth and you had a little time to be thankful for what was done for you.