Monday, December 29, 2008

On the move

So far, I've really enjoyed our trip to Minnesota. Besides a nice time with my family, opening great Goodwill gifts from my dad and brother, eating lots and lots and lots of sweet treats, visiting with a high school friend that I hadn't seen in YEARS, taking a long nap in the warm winter sun, I've also been enjoying Haven as she continues to grow and change. This week in particular she's been talking up a storm, especially with my mom and my sister. She just talks and talks and squeals and she even let out a few giggles with my mom yesterday. It is so fun to listen to her just chatter up a storm. And tonight, my dad and I were laying on the floor with her while she talked to us and she ever-so-casually rolled toward my dad, just the bottom part of her body. And then she tried it again, and then one more time, and then she did it! She rolled over onto her tummy for the first time! So fun!

This does mean, however, that our days of leaving her on the couch or her changing pad while we quickly run to the other room to wash our hands or grab a blanket or whatever, those days are over. She's on the move, folks. She's now officially on the move.

We also think we can see two little tooth buds on her lower gums (thanks, Jeanette, for first pointing them out) and she likes to eat her hands. And drool. And then drool some more. And then drool yet again. And then talk with her hand in her mouth.

All these changes. I feel like it's all happening so fast - I just can't believe how quickly she is growing and changing. I want to savor it all. I want to not miss any of it. How do you capture and hold all of these amazing things?

Thursday, December 25, 2008

A White Christmas

Winter is one of my favorite seasons - snow and cold and frozen snotsicles, hot chocolate, and the way sun makes a fresh layer of snow twinkle. People think I'm nuts and that I'm not really remembering winter very well, and maybe that's the case. But, well, I think those years of cross-country skiing and broomball at midnight and sledding and ice skating and building snow forts and snowmen and finding places to dry yet another pair of wet mittens - I think all those things made me love winter, shaped my love for snow.

And lucky for me, it looks like Minnesota will be delivering me a pretty nice Christmas gift: a white Christmas. We head to Minnesota soon to celebrate Christmas with my family and I couldn't be more excited. My sweaters and cozy socks are packed and even Haven has a little hat and mittens (and a big fluffy, cozy hooded bear-sack thing-a-madoodle). Consequently, it is also freezing cold there, with some lovely sub-arctic temperatures, but I guess you win some, you lose some. Winter, here we come!

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Broken, but not destroyed

In this season of celebrating a little baby - something so vulnerable, so dependent, so small - I'm reminded. That my faith is in one who is vulnerable and dependent. In one who hurt, who cried, who was human in every little way possible. Who understands all that it means to be human and meets me - meets you - wherever, and has compassion for me - for you - wherever. That my faith is not a way to escape this world, but to enter it more fully.

In this season when so many are hurting, when things are broken in us physically, emotionally, spiritually, relationally, I pray that we are met wherever we are at, at our neediest most painful moments, as well as in our deepest joys. I pray that we feel the promise, the hope, of life even in the midst of death.

May the grace of christmas, may the peace of christmas, may the joy and compassion of christmas be yours this day.

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

One of those days (or Annoyed)

Yesterday was one of those days, one of those off days.

The day began with Aaron's alarm sounding at 4:45 am. And not only did it sound, but it continued to sound for what felt like days. As soon as the alarm started to beep, Aaron immediately reached toward his nightstand and turned off the baby monitor, because he often - often! - thinks that the baby monitor is the alarm clock. When that did not cease to quiet the alarm, Aaron sprang from bed remembering that he had strategically placed the alarm clock on my armoire so that he would be forced to rise in order to turn off the alarm. He then proceeded to fumble around, groping everything on the armoire in search of the alarm. I was growing increasingly annoyed, knowing that our room was a mess having just returned home from Arizona a few hours earlier but sheesh! not that messy - where in the hell is that stupid alarm? why won't it stop? stop! stop it now! At this point, I manage to turn on my light, thinking that maybe I can begin to help in the search for the unfindable alarm clock. Aaron is still blindly fumbling around the armoire when the alarm clock begins to beep even more rapidly, as if it might explode, but instead just dies, as if to say 'I can't stand around and beep forever!' So.

With the light on, with Aaron's eyes a wee bit open, and with me gesturing with great exasperation at the alarm clock right there at the very very front of the armoire, that is when Aaron admits that he was looking for something the size and shape of the baby monitor. He was looking for the baby monitor, so he could turn it off, because he seems to often - often! - think the baby monitor is the alarm clock.

Now that I'm fully awake, exasperated, and annoyed, I'm also hungry. Waking up at 5 in the morning, I am hungry.

Aaron is kind enough to make me a piece of toast to satiate my very angry hunger, perhaps as a small peace offering, when he comes in to the bedroom to say that he thinks it is actually 4 in the morning, NOT 5 in the morning. He set the alarm clock that we took with us to Arizona, which is one hour ahead of LA. Not only am I awake unnecessarily at 5 in the morning, but it turns out that it is really only 4 in the morning and we will be doing this entire routine again in an hour.

I eat my toast, turn out my light, and go back to sleep, reminding Aaron to turn on the baby monitor again.

Haven wakes up at 4:28 am. And so begins my day, my great day of many annoyances.

I eventually surrendered - to the alarm clock, to the dishes in the sink, to the exploded suitcase in our bedroom, to Haven's short naps, to Zoe's slow walking, to my not knowing what to do with my life - surrendered to the big chair in the living room, Haven in my arms, and episodes of the West Wing playing on the computer.

(And today, not yesterday, but today I think the alarm clock story is funny.)