Eating Humble Pie With my (open) Hands

It was so good to worship with God's people this morning.

I am so glad that I won't have to miss out on church because of work anymore.

You know that whole "open hands" thing I'm trying?

That whole not being a control-freak thing?

It's coming along, little by little.

James was leading worship this week. 

I usually have to have my nose right in there as he's picking songs,
sharing my two cents,
telling him why my way's better.

This time, I backed off, I stayed out of it.

But, after thinking awhile on the text for the week, I called downstairs:

"I don't know if you're all done, but I was thinking that this song might fit really well after the sermon.
Take it or leave it."

(Did you know I was capable of not being pushy!?  Me neither...)

He thought it was a good fit.  He replaced his choice with mine.  He liked it.

And then, as we listened to the pastor speak this morning, he steered his sermon right into the song that James had initially picked, which I saw no connection to the day before.

I texted James (he wasn't sitting with me)

"You were right on with "Nothing But the Blood"

And he was.

And he changed it back.

And it was spot on.

That guy of mine is so good.  

For some reason, I doubt his perception.  Way too often.

And he patiently listens to my criticisms.

And patiently doesn't criticize in return.

- - - - - - - - - -

There were a lot of good reminders for me in what was sung and spoken this morning.

Our pastor preached from Luke 18:9-14, about the not seeking to make ourselves worthy by our actions, about not considering ourselves better than those around us.

A life-long battle 

for me, the good girl, 

me who's so good at comparing myself, 

me who's so quick to point out "I was right!"

What a good reminder, especially as I start a new job, that
it's not about whether or not I do it better than the person before me.
It's not about showing how well I can do things.

Can I share with you some of the phrases that I jotted down in my daybook as I listened?

"Every one who exalts himself will be humbled,

and he who humbles himself will be exalted." Luke 18:14

There is more to life than being right in our own eyes.

We do good out of gratitude for God's mercy, 
not because we will find merit.

Although I will never be worthy, I am far from worthless. 

Jesus saw fit to purchase my righteousness with his blood.

lean hard on God's mercy.

A Day's Delights

Today was one of those days that just couldn't have been much better.

One of those wonderful, ordinary, lovely days in which nothing extra special happens, but is full of all kinds of things that are so very special.

Today was a long time coming, the first day I've had off after working 10 in a row.

And it was good.  

Kind of like God said it would be when he mandated rest.

That God.  So wise.

The Saint of a husband of mine let me sleep in.

Around 9:00, two smiling faces accompanied a giant cup of coffee into my bedroom.

And we all crawled in, and snuggled, and sang "head and shoulders knees and toes", and tickled, and giggled, and the coffee got cold, and I couldn't have been happier.

(Haydon touched his own head for the first time today as we sang - I was so excited to see him making that connection!)

Then I and the boy went for a walk down Ottawa Street.

And I love Ottawa Street.

(as my husband said the other day - I wish there were more "love" words in the English language, 'cause when I see that written down, it looks silly putting love next to a street when 

I love God 

and I love my son 

and I love good books

...but you get the idea)

We strolled, and we browsed, and we chatted with shop-owners and artists, and I bought clothes, and my boy got to play, and then we walked home in the sunshine 'cause I missed the bus by about 30 seconds, and figured I might as well spend the next half hour getting some exercise in the sunshine rather than standing in the cold at a bus stop.

As we walked, we sang, 'cause that's just what I do.

And we danced, 'cause I tend to do that too.

And I'm sure I looked ridiculous singing and dancing my way down Cannon Street with a stroller.

And I'm sure I couldn't care less.

Haydon was tired.

He wanted to sleep so badly.

And I wanted him to stay awake and have lunch before his nap so badly.

So I kept tickling him, and singing louder, and involving the stroller in my dance.

And he kept giggling, and squirming, and yawning...

And somehow managed to sleep and laugh at the same time, twitching and smiling as I played with his ear lobes or poked his belly.

After lunch, that St. James got home.

And we waited for the poor little boy to put himself to sleep (sometimes he does so well, other times it seems to take forever - today he managed to poo just after I put him down, prolonging the whole thing even more by throwing a bum change into the mix).

Then that Saintly guy and I had a nap of our own.

Mmmmm.  Naps are so good.

And I tip-toed out before either of those great guys woke up, and I snuck into the bath and enjoyed a few minutes of peace and quiet and hot water before I trudged downstairs with a load of dirty diapers.

My mama got me a gift card for my birthday, and I asked St. James if he minded if I ran to the store for a bit to buy some clothes I needed (I use that word liberally.  we don't really know need).

And of course, he said yes.

And of course, when I walked in the door two hours later, dinner was ready.

Chicken parmagiana.

And he kissed me, and put on his coat, and went to work and didn't even get to eat it with us.

(He'll be fed at work - he can pick off the restaurant's menu.  It's not as bad as I made it sound)

but it sure is as good as I made it sound.  

Haydon loved it - he ate a whole chicken breast!

And then he played while I tidied.

And we headed upstairs, and got ready for bed, and I blew raspberries on his chubby little tummy as we put on his pjs.

And read our stories.

And nursed, and prayed.

And hugged, and kissed.

And tucked in.

And now, I sit, after doing those tasks that seem mundane, but mean that we're alive - laundry, dishes.

In the background, Crosby, Stills &Nash sing "Our house, is a very very very fine house!" over the hum of the dishwasher.

To one side is a beautiful vase of bright orange and red Gerber daisies - a birthday gift from my mom-in-law,

on the other a sleeping, sighing dog.

My heart is so full.

I am so blessed.  

Five Years Ago...

I married my best friend!

no rest for the weary

I'm going to whine.  And maybe cry.  And rant a little.  That's what blogs are for.

If I run into you today, I'll downplay it, and say "Oh, it's not that bad...you just need to change your expectations a bit.  We're managing fine."  And I suppose we are.  

But, seriously.

We need to figure out this damn sleep thing.

I say that as the parent who didn't do the getting up in the night.  

I honestly don't know how he does it.  It amazes me that he doesn't have melt downs in the day.  James brought him into me to nurse twice last night.  I check the clock when I take him back to bed.  Once at 1:45.  The second time at 3:30.  That's not even two hours in between, and I know James tried to soothe him for awhile before bringing him to me to nurse, so, if he was up, spent time with James, nursed, and THEN it was 3:30, he certainly didn't sleep long in between.  Oh, and did I mention he was up for good at 4?  Oh, and that I'm working 3-11 tonight and somehow have to support my husband in getting some homework done this morning so I can't just hide in bed all morning?  Oh, and that I HAVEN'T SLEPT FOR MORE THAN 5 HOURS IN 9.5 FRIGGIN' MONTHS!

15 days to our weekend away...Not really sure what that will look like for my parents who won't be able to nurse him back to sleep.  Was going to try to work toward night weaning so that it would be easier for them, but, at this point, I do whatever I can to get however much sleep it'll get me.

Thankful Thursdays

There's a reason I refer to my husband as 

"St." James

My man minutes before our wedding.

Ok, really, many reasons.

Thanks for helping me through school - and letting me finish first!

James is WAY better at organizing birthdays and making DELICIOUS cakes.
That look nice.
My attempts at a cake for him this year looked like a grade two science project.
(PS - it looks like that says "29" on there...let me assure you, it does not)

He still looks more like me, even though you're both bald.

This guy is the best husband and father to us we could dream off.  As I think about going back to work in the fall, and think about what the days will look like, coming home after being at work, nursing, having dinner together, making bedtime happen, trying to figure out how to include an evening or two out during the week to go to a Bible study or volunteer at church, and I'm exhausted already.  This guy's been doing that for almost eight months (minus the nursing).  He's up just as often as I am at night, he tries to make sure I have as much time for myself as possible, he does MORE than his fair share around the house.  

He's a Saint.

James, thanks for being you!  Thanks for being an incredible friend and partner as we do life together.  Thanks for the way you care for me, and the way you care for our son.  Thanks for the way you enable me to be a good mom, and the way you give SO much of yourself without complaining.

I will try to be as supportive of you as you take on school and being the at-home parent.  I won't do as good job as you do, I know it.  But I'll try.

I love you!

Monday, Monday

Whew.  It's been a while.  And a whirlwind.

Biggest excitement since I've last posted: a trip to the emergency room, and a gorgeous new baby carrier.

A couple of weeks ago, a friend got a new woven wrap.  I was already thinking I was ready for a new carrier, as Haydon's getting too heavy to carry on one shoulder in my slings, and our stretchy wrap was too, well, stretchy, for his weight.  I was thinking about a soft-structured carrier like an Ergo or a Beco, but when she started talking about how comfy and versatile her wrap was, I started to think I needed one.  Then I started reading about them on TheBabyWearer.com and I knew I needed one.  Then I spent endless hours on for-sale-or-trade forums looking at beautiful pieces of cloth and trying to figure out what I wanted.  Then someone told me about a sale at NovaNatural.com , so I was able to get a new one in a colour I liked for a decent price.  I ordered a BB Slen passion fruit woven wrap.
 And did a happy dance.
                                                                                     And then waited....

All last week, Haydon had frequent funny-looking green poops.  I wasn't too concerned about it, as we had started new cereal and he didn't seem to be uncomfortable, I thought he was just adjusting to the new food.  Saturday he came down with a fever, and was harder to settle to sleep than usual.  This was the first time he has ever been unwell (we have been so blessed thus far!).  I have always had a wild imagination, that takes me to worse case scenarios when the slightest thing happens.  As St. James and I were taking Haydon's temperature on Saturday night, in my head it was no time before we were in the hospital with him hooked up to endless wires and monitors for weeks on end.

I've been made aware of a couple of families recently who have young children undergoing chemo, which is probably why my mind went there when Haydon started to get sick.  I can't imagine what these families are going through - my heart goes out to them!  When I think about the amount of agonizing I did about a mere fever - do we give him Tylenol now?  Do we wait?  Do we go to the hospital?  Do we wait until Monday and call the doctor?   - I cannot even conceive of the decisions faced by parents of children who are struggling with long-term illness.

Anyway, Sunday morning, Haydon was still feverish.  And then he stopped peeing...After three dry diapers to which we responded with a "well, we'll see what the next one's like..." I called telehealth, around 10:00pm.  I knew that they would likely recommend that we head to the ER, and, sure enough, they did.  So, at 11:00pm, we made our first parental emergency room trip.

We are SO blessed to live in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada.  As we got into the car, I said to James how lucky we were to be in Canada, as there was no way we would've been heading to the hospital over a happy baby who hadn't peed in a while if we had to pay big money for it.  TeleHealth Ontario was also really helpful.  Although there was a wait of 15-20 minutes to talk to a nurse, and they called us back, rather than having to wait on the line all that time.  When she suggested we got to the hospital, she asked where we'd be going, and sent Haydon's chart with all the info she'd taken over the phone, so we didn't have to go through all of the questions again at the hospital.  Having Hamilton's McMaster Children's Hospital a 10 minute drive away is a huge blessing.  There was a separate waiting room for little ones, and the nurses were great.  The doctor was FANTASTIC!(I wish I had got her name!), and we were home by 1:30am.  If trips to the ER can be great, this one was.



We got there, headed in to see the triage nurse, took Haydon's diaper off for her to take his temperature...and it was wet.  This was a relief, but my "wait and see how things are in the morning" side was chastising my "err on the side of caution" side.  The doctor said that often happens, and she affirmed our choice to bring him in, so that was good.

                                                          

                                                              

                                                                                                                           Chillin' with our friend Sophie in the waiting room

So was being in bed when we got home.  I had gotten maybe 5.5 hours of interrupted sleep the night before, and was exhausted.    Haydon was up early, as usual, and as St. James had to go to work in the afternoon, I got up with Haydon and we just chilled out watching some TV (all I had energy for). St. James got up at 11 and I showered and stuff.  Then came upstairs and laid down for a nap as Haydon was sleeping...then my wonderful husband said he thought he should stay home from work as I hadn't gotten much sleep in the past couple of nights and could probably use an extra set of hands.  I didn't say no.

Just as I was drifting off to sleep, there was a BANG BANG BANG on the door.  I knew what it was...

St. James answered the door, chatted for awhile with the delivery guy, who happened to be the dad of someone he went to cadets with as a kid.  Then he brought up the box and set it on the bed beside me.

"Are you excited!?!"
"I'm trying to decide if I should be excited or asleep...."

He put the box in the corner and suggested sleep was probably the good idea.

I tried.

And then I thought about what was in the box.

And then I thought about the friend who I'd ordered one for who would want to know that the box was here.

And then I got up and dressed and sent her a message.

And then...

It's so comfy!  I love it.  Haydon does too.

 This was my first attempt at putting him in it, and it felt pretty good!

It's also so easy to get stuff done with him in it.  Way comfier than my other carriers.

Now I have time at home with my two favorite guys (one which is currently sleeping, the other cleaning the basement - I told you they're both awesome), and a new toy to play with.  

Life is good!

Blaaaah

It's hot. 
And I really don't have much to say.

Home from our weekend of camping, and it was good.
Haydon did great, had an awesome weekend, was his usually shiny happy self, and all of his naps and was a wonder baby.

And now that we're home and back to his crib...he screamed for over 2 hours before falling asleep. 
And it's hot.

And then my wonder husband got home from work and made me cry.
See, I have this problem with chocolate.  I like it a lot.  So much that if we have any, James hides it so I don't eat it all.  Or if he has any that's like, just his, he definitely hides it.  And every now and then he'll plant some somewhere like my purse or something as a nice treat for me.  'Cause he's so nice.
So, I'm packing up our stuff to come home from camping yesterday, and there's something big and blockish in James' coat pocket.  It's a mint aero bar.  De-lish-ous.  I take it out.  I almost remove the packaging.  Then I think to myself "This is NOT yours!  Put it back!"

And I did.  And THAT is a big deal.

I told him all proudly later on of my wonderful behaviour.  He was proud.
I was certain there was a piece of that mint aero deliciousness comin' my way whenever he opened it up.

So, he gets home tonight, asks me if I want to watch the episode of Chuck we have to catch up on, and do I want anything to eat.

"I wouldn't mind a piece of that chocolate bar you had..."

"It's gone."

Just like that he says.  All straight-faced and like it's no big deal.  It's gone.  It's GONE!  Can you believe it!  After my upstanding behaviour, it's just gone!?!

That'll teach me not to eat the chocolate when I've got the chance...

Magnificent Mondays

Monday is my favourite day around here, which always feels a little funny, considering most of the world groans over Mondays.

James doesn't work until 1:00 on Monday afternoons.  So Mondays have become this beautiful time of resting and connecting and preparing for the week ahead.  Sure, weekends are great, but they are often filled with outings and errands and visiting, all of which are good, but not always restful.  No matter how busy the weekend is, we always know that Monday mornings are not far off.  Monday mornings are for us, and nothing else gets in the way of that.

On Mondays, we (or one of us) usually sleep in.  We enjoy a nice breakfast together.  I pull out the white board weekly calendar and we talk about what's happening in the coming week.  It's a great way to make sure we know what the other person's up to, helps us trouble shoot problems (wait...if you have a meeting on Tuesday night and I was going to go to...who's hanging out with Haydon?)  It also helps us to regulate ourselves "You mean there isn't a single night when we're both going to be home for dinner together!?  We need to cut back on our commitments..."  After we take care of business, we spend some time praying together, for our family, our friends, and our community.  And then James rushes to get ready for work (I love that he likes to spend as much time with us as possible...even if it means throwing lunch together and throwing his work clothes on at the last minute, when he should already be in the car).

So, basically Mondays are great.  Add to that the fact that I have one awesome husband, who got up this morning at 6 with Haydon so that I could sleep in, and then was able to crawl back in bed at 7:30 when our early riser was ready for a nap, and then got up and made a great breakfast for us to share over our meeting, and you get one magnificent Monday.  Being married to a saint is pretty great.

Wonderful Windy Wednesday

I love Wednesdays.  This one is no exception.

See, they usually start with play group, which is a handful of mummas with little ones who get together in someone's basement and eat cookies or fruit and talk baby while toddlers run around and play.  And sometimes scream, but mostly play.  It's close enough that I can walk, and on gorgeous sunny days like this, there's nothing better than walking to visit friends.  And the kids were hilarious today - I kept wishing I had a camera as a bunch of the toddlers walked around with butterfly nets on their heads. 

After play group, I headed to Little Bird on Ottawa Street.  Little Bird is a great little kids consignment shop, which is also home to re*diaper.  I bought diapers, diaper detergent, shorts and sandals for Haydon.  I spent too much money.  It was wonderful. (PS - I still have 3 10% of coupons for Little Bird for whomever speaks up.  Seriously people, just comment, and they're yours).

Then I walked home.  And I pondered how much I love city living, and how much I love Hamilton, and how much I love that I can walk to meet great people, and then walk to buy good quality used kids stuff and cloth diapers, and just how great and wonderful and sustainable it is and all that good crap.

And then my darling baby fell asleep in the stroller, and I got home and parked him in the back yard while I hung out my clothes which were dry in about 2 minutes because it's so stinkin' windy (downside to so stinkin' windy is that our recycling doesn't get picked up until really late in the day, and the neighbour's blue bin and its contents are all over my yard.  bummer).  Haydon managed to stay asleep long enough for me to hang out the clothes, make lunch, sit and read outside while eating lunch.

Speaking of reading - I'm reading "Babyproofing Your Marriage."  It's pretty darned good!  I picked it up at the library (which I can WALK to!) yesterday.  I was a bit skeptical, but after a few chapters I'd definitely recommend it to people with young kids.  Tips on avoiding "midnight chicken" (pretending you don't hear the baby crying while hoping your spouse, who's doing the same thing, gets up first), scorekeeping, and all kinds of other good stuff.  Definitely valuable for both spouses to read...St. James is thrilled I have more reading material for him.  Poor man doesn't like reading near as much as I do, nor does he have as much time as I do, nor does he read as fast as I do.  It's a rough life, being my husband :P

Now, I'm going to go nap while Haydon has his late afternooner.  And I can do this, because my Itialian Nona neighbour just gave me a piping hot container of meat-sauce, so all I need to do for dinner now is boil water and toss in the pasta.

I love Wednesdays.

Charging My Batteries

St. James and I were sitting on the porch this afternoon, enjoying the beautiful spring day.  It was warm, breezy, felt like it might rain.  We had just puttered away in the back yard, St. James had planted some raspberry bushes, I did some weeding.  As we sat and looked at our little patch of earth, I remarked that it had been a good weekend, and that I felt good.  Better than I had in a long time.
As I reflected on why that was, I realized that the reason I felt good was because I wasn't as tired and scattered as I usually feel, and that as a couple, we had spent 2 nights in a row at home, together.    With my bum firmly planted in my patio chair, this ridiculous metaphor came to mind. I said to St. James "I feel like a cordless phone that has been carried all over the house and just needed to return to its base."   Really.  I was envisioning my bum, connecting with the chair, just like the little silver pieces in the bottom of the phone connect with the silver pieces in the base.
The phone is made to be carried all over the house and talked into, just as I am made to go out into the world, to work, to play, to see, to hear.  But the phone can't do what it's made for if it doesn't spend almost an equal amount of time on its base, charging up.  I too need to spend more time at my base, my home, to charge up so I can go out and do those other things properly.  When my phone hasn't spent enough time on its base, it beeps in my ear, or the sound quality becomes poor, or sometimes it conks out right in the middle of a conversation.  When I haven't spent enough time at my home-base, I feel frazzled, get cranky and irritable, or just plain can't follow through on commitments I've made.
After a weekend that's been spent mostly at home, with St. James, and other friends, I'm feeling re-charged.  I'm ready to start a new week, ready to go out into the world and do those things I was made for.  And ready to stay home, butt in chair, to recharge when the time comes.

Poor, Poor Pitiful Me

I'm sitting staring at my screen, going back and forth between my email and facebook, wondering why no one is sending me love every 30 seconds to keep me entertained.  Hay-baber is sleeping (although I keep thinking he's waking up, otherwise I would've been sleeping too).  St. James is working this afternoon/evening.  And often, those days suck.  For some reason, despite the fact that he was home a mere 4 hours ago and we had a lovely morning together, Monday and Tuesday evenings drag like you wouldn't believe.  I start to get lonely and stir-crazy.  I thought my sister was coming to visit...we had different ideas of what "tentative" plans means.  I thought the timing was tentative...she thought the plans were tentative.  When I called she was making dinner for my fam, which, of course, just made me feel left out (which I know is ridiculous, considering they all live under the same roof.)
And, my husband, my darling husband, has misplaced my iPhone.  This is frustrating.  See, I will leave it somewhere (in this case on the back porch beside the chair I was in).  I will know it is there.  I will know I have to return to get it.  He will see it and think "Oh!  Rae left her phone!  I'll bring it in for her..."  And then I will return and it will not be where I knew I left it.  And, usually, he knows where it is...but for some reason, this time, he doesn't remember...
Good thing it's a beautiful day and the neighbourhood Little Casears has a crazy deal on and I have good friends nearby that will eat pizza with me...

Coffee and Perogies

Well, I've lost a bit of my momentum in the organization department, but that's ok. I spent time with my favourite guys this morning, and that's just as valuable! On Tuesdays James doesn't go in to work until the afternoon, so we've earmarked those days to be our time to connect and pray together. This morning we went for a walk with Charlie and Haydon and prayed for our families, our church, our neighbourhood and ourselves. Good times were had by all. Good times were made even better by McDonald's free coffee, which inspired me to direct our walk toward Springy's so I could get a cupholder for the stroller in which I could hold that glorious free java. Springy's is wonderful. If you're a parent of wee ones in Hamilton, you should really check them out sometime. We walked in, Anthony immediately noticed our squeaky stroller, and he oiled all our wheels and installed the cupholder while we waited.
Back to McDonald's. I have a guilt-filled, love-hate relationship with those golden arches. The hate is that whole multi-national corporation taking over the world and selling crappy food in throw-away containers thing, and the greasy fatty awfulness clogging up my arteries. The love is the glorious salty french fries and fantastic coffee, which is free for the next two weeks. I wonder if there's a limit on that. We have one just down the street. Do you think they'd think I was a complete nutter if I showed up twice a day for a free cup of joe? It might be worth the walk...
Of to lunch with my husband, who's making perogies as we speak, 'cause he's just good like that. In lots of places, I would be making the lunch while he gets ready for work, 'cause he's supposed to leave in like, 10 minutes, isn't dressed yet, hasn't got his supper ready, or any of those things. A good wife would be helping with those things so he could get out the door on time. Me? I'm blogging while he serves me lunch. There's a reason I call him St. James. I'm a lucky girl.

Mmm. perogies.