Ruminating...

My mom sent me this hilarious pregnancy tracker website.  The writers update the pregnant mother on week-by-week baby development, but do so in a clever yet medically sound way.  My 28-week update included this line:

"You may have given a passing thought to what the new member of the household will be like (and by "passing thought" we mean obsessive rumination)."

I hope I haven't been obsessive about it, but I really do love to wonder what little James will be like.  Will he have the dark, massive hair that I'm expecting or will it be lighter, even red (there's a chance for that!)?  Will he be openly expressive or more introverted?  Will he have Jim's startling blue-green eyes, or my dark brown?  Will he love music and rhythm like his Daddy?  Just how long will his fingers and toes BE?  What about his nose - will it be a Longenecker or a Stack nose?  These are just a few questions that roll around in my little noggin as the days pass.  

It's like knowing and loving someone intimately and then forgetting what they look like.  Your brain desperately tries to knit together the proportions and measures of their face and then right before it is finished, it quickly dissipates.  I already have such a deep love for this little person, and it seems so bizarre to not even know what he looks like!

After reading Psalm 139, our worship pastor mused on Sunday how, "...wonderful that we won't have to be introduced to God when we see Him on that glorious day.  He will already know us inside and out and love us perfectly."  He doesn't have to wonder what we look like.  He knows every hair on our head and has known our thoughts from afar.  

James' Maker will not be surprised at the thickness of his hair or the curve of his chin.  He won't be surprised because it will be exactly as He fashioned.        

Fred Winters' Widow

This shouldn't make sense.  I hope you are as moved as I was by the grace and poignancy that God has given her.   

Rock-a-bye Sweet Baby James

Found this on Craig's List for $35!  Can't wait to rock and roll with our Sweet Baby James.

***WARNING: Potty language forthcoming***

I can't wait to see sweet baby James in these.

Jim and I have done some research and the new cloth diapers are just too good to pass up.  Not only are they better for the environment (we'll waste water to wash them instead of dumping plastic diapers in the landfills), but they're so darn cute.  

Where does the poop go when I wash them, you ask?  To start, supposedly breast milk-baby-poop is a cinch for washers to take care of, so no problem at the beginning.  Then, after solid food enters the scene, the directions read, "simply plop solids into the toilet, flush, and wash diaper as usual".  I'm sure there will be times when its not that simple, but I still think the cost will be worth it.

By the time he's out of diapers, we will have saved over $2000.  To begin cloth diapering from scratch, it costs about $300-500.  Total.  Plus, we can reuse them for future babies AND they're one size fits all.  See the adjustable snaps?  The ones pictured are about $25 per diaper (I know - I balked, too) but when you think of not having to throw away 65 diapers a day.....  

Lest you think I've completely lost my mind, we're still going to have disposables on hand for traveling, emergencies, and sleepless nights at the beginning.  I've heard that if you can get into a washing routine, these diapers are spectacular.   

Successful Substitution!

In continuation of the Tuna Saga (see below), I thought I'd relay the details of my lunch experience today.  

During my grocery trip this morning, I stood before the canned meat section for a solid 6 minutes in utter frustration.  What would satisfy my longing for tuna!?  The taste is so specific.  So distinct.  Canned chicken, albacore, sardines, and potted beef (ugh) were staring me down.  Even herring filets caught my attention for a few contemplative seconds.  I thought, though, of how Jim may react to its lovely odor and quickly decided against it. 

I ended up choosing a 3-pack of canned chicken and a can of pink salmon.  I had never had canned salmon and since it was a little pricey, decided to just try one can.

I prepared my salmon exactly the same way:  just real mayo and sweet relish.  As I mixed it together, I felt a bit of resentment toward my beloved tuna.  "Oh, tuna!  Why did you have to be so darn high in mercury!  You have ruined my lunch routine!  Now I'm stuck with this pasty, flavorless canned salmon!"  

I reluctantly spread it on whole grain toast... coupled with yogurt covered pretzels, an apple, and V8 fruit juice - it was DELICIOUS!  Definitely a more subtle taste, but nonetheless satisfying and fulfilling.  I ate it on our back porch, listening to the bees hum.  

Salmon, you're alright.  I think we're gonna be okay.

Whoops on the Tuna...

So after I expounded on my love of tuna (see below) I was told that, due to it's high levels of mercury, it should be avoided during pregnancy.  I looked it up and sure enough, even the chunk light tuna has levels of mercury that call for moderation in consumption.  

Well, by this time any damage is probably already done (remember, pretty much EVERY lunch!).  But I'm still going to switch to chicken...

I'll letcha know if James comes out lookin' like the mercury-based T-1000 from the Terminator...  

Friday Words

EMOTIONS:  Are running rampant.  Last night I cried/whimpered myself to sleep.  It was instigated by some random, current drama in my little life, but was relentlessly stoked and kept fresh by my lack of solid, scheduled sleep.  Jim was, of course, an immediate source of comfort and compassion.  Which brings me now to...  

SLEEP:  Which will not come.  Good sleep, anyway.  My belly isn't particularly uncomfortable.  It's the temperature fluctuations.  Toss.  Turn.  Throw blanket off.  Put blanket on.  Turn.  Throw blanket off.  Toss.  Cover just legs.  Kick.  Cover just head.  Turn.  Sit straight up at 4:13 a.m. and go "Ugh!".

TUNA:  My lunch every day.  I can't get enough of it.  I mix one can with a little mayo and sweet relish.  Then I top off saltines with my tuna (about 1/2 sleeve).  Chased with an apple or an orange, and of course a cookie or something to appease the raging sweet tooth monster.  Mmm...

JOY:  Should be mine.  I just re-read my first two Friday words and felt a little disheartened about how whiney they are.  I have everything in the world to be thankful for.  Not for one second should my joy be wasted on silly things like "hor-motions" (Jim's word) or lack of sleep.  I know that's not exactly reality, but I should at least strive for it.  Meh.