Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Whaaaat?!

My friend Joanna just posted "Happy Anniversary" on my Facebook wall.

News to me!

It's true. I completely forgot that today was Jim and my 3rd wedding anniversary. It was actually around this time (4:24 pm) three years ago that I was making my way down the aisle to the hottest man on earth. He's the father of my beautiful son. He's funny. He's faithful. He's an incredible teacher. He's passionate. He's mine. And he's fabulous.

I love you, my Babel*. With all of my heart.

The summer we fell in love (working at Awanita Camp)


In college. I broke Jim's thumb as we were swing dancing... good story.

Jim's ordination service

Wedding invites!

Honeymoonin'


Full circle, right?! Awesome.

*Babel: personal pronoun - Sara's weird nickname for Jim, having nothing whatsoever to do with the Tower of Babel.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Closet Catastrophe

I wish I had taken a before picture of my wrecked closet.... but I didn't. I had to purge the maternity clothes and find some that will fit my weird, disproportionate, post-pregnancy bod.

James kept me company. Can you find him amidst the clothing chaos?

There's my little butter bean...
(The pillow kept the overhead light out of his eyes)

Friday, July 24, 2009

Sleepytown Adventures

This is what last night in the Thompson house was like:
  • 7:40 pm - Finished last feeding for the "day". Took James to Kyoto Express for dinner with Uncle Andy. When we took him out of his car seat back home, he was pretty fussy for next hour or so. Did belly roll-ups* (thank you, Mary Kury!) and got rid of some trapped gas. Felt better and snoozed in his bouncy chair.
  • 10:30 pm - Finished next feeding as Jim and I watched When Harry Met Sally. Covered James' ears during the famous diner scene. Pause movie. After burps and clean diaper, I put him to sleep in his crib.
  • 11:12 pm - Crying. What are we going to do? His next feeding shouldn't be until around 1 am. Listened to him for a couple minutes to see if it was just "getting comfortable oochy" cries. Wasn't. Went and got him to snuggle for a little bit. (Here's the rub: We don't want to put him in his crib asleep all the time, so we try to just get him a little comfortable).
  • 11:25 pm - Crying. What's wrong, James? Daddy Executive Decision = let's just put him in his bouncy seat until we finish the movie. Good call, Daddy. Nothing wrong with James, just wants to hang out with us. (Time out is gonna work on this kid.) Bouncy seat it is.
  • 12:00 am - Finish movie. I'm almost asleep on the couch. Mama Executive Decision = I'll just sleep here until he wakes up at 1:00.
  • 3:25 am (!!!) - James wakes up to eat! What?! Almost 5 hours since your last feeding, you little hero of mine!! James and I have a special, sweet moment basking in the glow of TV snow. Burp, clean drawers, Mama crawls into bed with a waiting-for-Christmas-morning anticipation, "Maybe he'll sleep until 8 or 9!" A little premature, Mama...
  • 6:18 am - A hungry James.
  • 9:00 am - A hungry James. Sigh... That's ok, sweet boy. Mama loves you to the moon and back.
Every night is an adventure.

*belly roll up: n. holding infant's thighs, gently roll legs and knees up to his shoulders to help release gas.

Monday, July 20, 2009

BAAY-bies!

Go here for some weird, cute babies

Sunday, July 19, 2009

To Pick Up or Not to Pick Up?

I have fuzzy memories of approaching my Momma or Daddy and throwing my arms up in the air, wanting to be held - like this:

And they would hold me. And I'm so thankful they did. Before I knew to throw up my arms, I only knew to cry. Jim and I are slowly learning to discern James' different cries in order to meet his needs. If we know that he has a clean diaper, has just eaten, burped and has had some good farts, is not hot or cold, etc., etc., another option is that he just wants to be held. He wants to be close, to smell us, hear our hearts, feel the warmth of our bodies, know of our nearness.

We're a little tired of all the different schools of thought - Babywise, Dr. Sears, attachment parenting, "let 'em cry it out", blah, blah, blah, ad nauseam... Yes, they all have certain wisdom that we can glean, but when it comes down to it, we also have instincts that are God-given.

Here's my point: Another context in which you see a person in that "arms up" position is in prayer and supplication.
And lest you think it's only in charismatic-y, trendy, non-denominational worship:

(kinda... you get the idea :)

I'm so glad that God doesn't respond to our lifted hands with, "Oooo.... yea... you're gonna need to learn how to self-soothe..." Instead, He gives us comfort. In fact, He gives us a Comforter. Again, I know this only goes so far and of course there's a place for structure and scheduling. And when it comes to "It's time to go to bed and that's it, James...", that's a different story. But sheesh, if my child is crying, I refuse to feel bad for picking him up!

FYI: It was Benjamin Franklin that said, "God helps those who help themselves," not scripture.

"I stretch out my hands to You. My soul thirsts for you like a parched land." Psalm 143:6

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

About 580

Thats about how many hours James has been outside of my womb. I have not lamented once that he is no longer in my belly. I know that some mothers have that sadness but their babies obviously aren't as cute as mine. (of course I'm kidding ;) Allow me to elaborate.

Right now I can see our beautiful boy past the edge of the laptop. He's sleeping in his bouncy seat with his hands delicately poised in mid air. His tiny foot is peeking out from under the blanket from earlier ooching*.
His lips and chin are my new Achilles heel. I can almost stand him crying until his chin begins to quiver. At that point, he could ask me for just about anything and it would be his. Good thing he can't speak yet...

Even his breathing is lovely. Little short breaths with a snort here and there. And every once in a while a perky little mouse squeak. Oh, but if you're really lucky, you'll hear The Sigh. The Sigh of contentment that reminds us all that "I-just-eat-sweet-mookie*-and-then-fall-into-a-coma-and-people-change-my-diaper".

Oh, wow. And just this moment, all of that peace was so rudely ruptured by an INCREDIBLY loud gastro-explosion. Seriously, I can't believe that this small human can actually compete with his father at champion cheese-cutting. But now of course, the sleep is even deeper...

He's so my favorite.

* ooch: v. to make nestling, snuggly movements to either (a.) get comfortable (b.) pass gas (c.) make your mom go bonkers over how cute you are
* mookie: n. breast milk - esp. the kind yielding drunken infants ... "mookie face", "mookied", "drunk off mookie"

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Changing...

Changing diapers,
nursing pads,
crib sheets,
peed-on onesies,
my diet,
my sleep schedule (wow.),
our social life,
my way of thinking,
my heart,
how I pray,
my priorities,
how I look at other mothers,
how I love my husband,
my entire life.
When I told my brother, Mikey, that I was pregnant he was giddy and kept saying over and over again, "Whoa, this changes everything!". I had no idea then how right he was. Change is good, though. Real good.