It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

How is it already mid-December?!

It has been busy, busy, busy around here lately with appointments, errands, mommy groups, play dates, babysitting, a last minute long weekend in Oklahoma, a new job for Greg (YAY!!!) and even a pre-Christmas visit from family last week.

I love this time of year, but it's nuts how quickly it flies by now that I'm older. There is just so much to do, and I want to do it all!

Above photos taken by Allison Walton

I'm soaking in the season and enjoying all the family time I can get. Greg, Fletcher and I walked down the McDonalds for breakfast early this morning when it was still so cold we could see our breath freeze in front of us -- and I don't think I could have been any happier. A morning walk with my boys all to myself. I don't think it gets any better than that. Fletcher squealed with delight at being able to run down the sidewalk and Greg carried him the rest of the way when his little legs pooped out. Then we all ate heartily and returned home for a luxurious mid-morning nap that caused us to miss church this morning. (Sometimes you just need to skip!)

Nothing much else to report... we're beginning to look for a new apartment since Shortbread will be here before we know it and we're outgrowing our current place. I'm both excited and terrified to welcome our new babe home in the spring. I know it will be so wonderful, and super hard, and completely worth it.

Hallowed hours

There is something so sacred about quiet hours of stillness between the moment the sun goes down and the time it creeps its way back into the sky.

Fletcher's new wake up time tends to be right smack dab in the middle of that quiet stillness, and while there's a big part of me that misses his old 7:00 AM wake ups, there is something very precious about the wee hours with my wee one.

Photo by Matthew Roderick Schulert

This morning I could hear him stirring before Greg even left for work at 5:00. Fletcher has had a cold, and though he's shaking it there is still a bit of congestion he's working through.  I could hear him coughing in his crib and knew there would be no going back to sleep once I went in with his sippy cup of water. So instead of more sleep, we rocked. 

I scooped him up, all warm and cozy in his footie pajamas, and his head immediately went to my shoulder. Little arms wrapped around my neck, his fingers sleepily twisting strands of my hair. I took him over to the rocking chair in the corner and we snuggled there together, enjoying the calm quiet as we soaked up one another's heart beats and breathed in the cool crisp morning. 

I thought ahead to my newest little boy, the one who is still growing strong and healthy inside of me (who Greg and I have affectionately nicknamed "Shortbread" until a proper name is decided upon). I was struck with eager anticipation to have both of my boys in my arms, and also thankful for this hallowed time with Fletcher as my only baby to be selfish with while Shortbread cozily cooks for his remaining trimesters. 

Once we shook the sleep from our eyes, we dove into the morning with big smiles, syrupy pancake balls, and pillow nests in the living room. As I watched my son flop himself from cushion to cushion, and giggle at my stupid prat falls, and delight in my attention, I felt like the wealthiest women in the world.

It's 9:08 AM, I'm exhausted, and it is a glorious day.

Handsome got a haircut

I mean...

Fletcher's first hair cut

When did my schmooshy baby become such a handsome little boy?!

Good news all around!

Fletcher has been a real champ since his surgery last week. In fact I'd say he bounced back faster than me!

We had a follow up appointment with his surgeon on Monday and his doctor told us that his eyes "could not look better!" Fletcher received a sugar cookie for being so good, and I left that office as the happiest mommy in the world because there was no mention of future surgeries or even more patching. Yay!

In other news, Fletcher has been studying up for an exciting change on the horizon for our family:

This has quickly become a favorite read in the bedtime line up...

Yep! As of March 2014 we will happily grow to become a family of four. Fletcher will be an amazing big brother, I'm so excited for him to experience the sibling bond that Greg and I each have with our own brothers/sister.

We certainly do have a lot to be thankful for around here lately.

Surgery day

Dear God,

I am tired, and this day was long. After some restless nights, I'm looking forward to the deep peaceful sleep I'm sure to have tonight. Your faithfulness shows my soul how to rest.

I have been dreading this day, not even letting myself imagine it for fear or where my mind would go if I allowed myself to think about handing my son over to strangers and trusting them with his well-being.

It was not even a year and a half ago that you overwhelmed me with your goodness by giving me a child. Fletcher's unique birth story first taught me to surrender his little life into your hands, knowing that you had him when I was powerless to help him.

My first lesson in motherhood was that my beloved son is actually YOURS. I get the privilege of loving him and raising him, but you are the one who keeps him. It is best that way. (You always offer us your best. You are so good.)

It was an important lesson learned at the start of my parental journey, and I was reminded of it today. Handing my son to the nurse and watching him as he was carried into the OR for surgery on both of his eyes utterly crushed me. Seventeen months of love for this little boy tugged at every inch of my heartstrings.

That was the difference for me today: those seventeen months.

At his birth, Fletcher and I had yet to get to know each other. Now, though -- I know his laugh. I know how to summon that huge grin that lights up his entire face. I know his babbles, and his favorite stuffed animals, and the songs he likes to sing. I know how many teeth are in his mouth, and which teeth are coming in next. I know how to comfort him when he's upset, and how to put him to sleep. I know his favorite foods, and the books he likes to read, and the cups he likes to drink out of. I know how to read his moods, and how to run his bath. I know when he's not feeling well, and I know when he's scared. I know him now. Somehow entrusting Fletcher to you this morning felt more difficult than 17 months ago because in some ways...well... I had more to lose today.

That's where my thoughts have been since Monday, but this morning you lovingly reminded me that I have nothing to lose at all. Because you have Fletcher in those big faithful hands of yours, regardless of the outcome of the surgery. He's yours for keeps. Gosh that brings me comfort. Especially when I think about how much I love him, and realize that I still don't know him half as well as you do.

Thank you, Father, for your goodness. For your faithfulness and your love that never ceases to amaze me. Thank you for hard-earned lessons that bring me closer to you. Thank you for a successful surgery and a healthy little boy.

Amen. Goodnight.

Aquatic adventure!

It was 102 degrees today so my good friend K and I packed a picnic, buckled our boys into her backseat, and headed for the breezy coast to visit the aquarium!

It was an adventure we planned about a week ago when we looked at the weather and saw how miserable it was going to be, but I have to admit I was really proud of us for following through. Ain't no small thing to plan day trips with babies! We did great though, if I do say so my self, and it was SO MUCH FUN.

Standing in front of the kelp tank 

The boys were awesome. They did really well in the car, and once we made it to the aquarium they explored til their little hands and knees were black with dirt from all the crawling (don't worry, we brought plenty of wipes.) 

They loved the fish, all the exhibits that had touchable elements, the tide pool (even though Fletcher only wanted to splash in the water a bit so I had to cut him off), and watching all the big kids that were running around with their own families.

Learning about whale tails

K and I had a great time with one another too. It's nice to have some adult conversation while we take care of our boys, and we laughed a lot too. The ocean breeze felt so good on our skin as we sat in the shade and ate our picnic lunch. We kept saying over and over again how nice it was. 

Made me think of Greggers, it happens to be our 4 year anniversary today too!

It was a great day. I can't wait for our next adventure, I'm already scouring the internet for fun/free/cool things to do with kiddos in our neck of the woods.

That beautiful horizon

After a fairly mild summer (compared to last year, anyway) we've had a couple hot ones here in SoCal the past few days. I have been eating TJ's lime popsicles like they are going out of style -- and boy oh boy are they refreshing on a balmy summer evening!

Greg and I sit on the floor in front of the fan, throw all the windows open, and suck on lime popsicles until they're good and sour because we've slurped all the sugar out of them. We talk as the sun goes down until one of us eventually gets up to turn a lamp on.

During the day, Fletcher and I go out and busy ourselves in places that conveniently have air conditioner. I can't stand to have my sweaty hair sticking to my face and neck, so I'm constantly pulling it back into a ponytail, reigning in the flyaways that escape throughout the afternoon with a fresh brush and a tighter elastic band every time I find myself in front of the bathroom mirror.

It's the type of dry heat that's hard to breathe in. But this sort of heat always makes me feel like the world is holding its breath anyway, so I guess it makes sense that it would somehow knock the wind out of me when I step into it.

Even with a busy schedule, it feels like we've been schlepping through hot tar and moving in slow motion. That part hasn't been bad though, because everything that has been buzzing around in my head seems to finally hold still long enough to clarify a bit.

I have been praying for God to put expectation in my heart. Not expectation for the things that I want us to have, but rather, the things that God is faithful to provide. I want God to put in my heart the expectation for the things he is going to do in my life.

A few weeks ago, when I was owning my disappointment and worrying over the future, some good friends suggested that I start praying for this sort of expectation. It has been a good prayer for me, and I think it has helped me to shift my hope back to the One who is faithful to hope in, rather than exterior things that the bottoms inevitably drop out of.

I'm still a planner, I'm sure I always will be -- but there's something about releasing the control that I have been clinging to (even though control is something I never had in the first place!) It's been nice.

In spite of the heat, there is this beautiful fresh hope growing on the horizon, and it's taking on the most radiant colors. God is moving in my life, I'm sure of it. My confidence in Him has been strengthened and it feels so freeing to rest in that.

I don't know what's coming, but it is lovely and perfect and bright. It happens to taste a little bit like lime too.

Birds of a feather

It feels like not too long ago that the below picture was taken of me and my two girlfriends (K & J) when we were all preggers:

K was in her 1st trimester, I was in my 2nd, and J was in her 3rd.

Little did I know when this photo was taken how very much these two particular women would come to mean to me over the next year and a half. Our friendships explored new levels as our hearts embraced the joys and trials of motherhood. These ladies have been my cheerleaders, counselors, and sisters -- and they've been muscling alongside me in the trenches with their own precious little ones.

Even beyond play dates, our families formed a small group with our husbands and kids that would meet one evening every other week. Sometimes we'd eat together, other times we'd just hang out while our boys played. It has been such a pleasure to have The First Sons Club (the title was jokingly offered and affectionately stuck) to pray with, be vulnerable with, check in with, and to just be social with.

A recent photo of The First Sons Club mommies and their boys.

It has been a sweet season. Memories have been made that I will always cherish whenever I look back on Fletcher's first year. As we move into a new season, and one of the First Sons families relocates to another state to seek new adventures, I look forward to the ways these particular friendships continue to evolve.

Near and dear to my heart, these two gals... near and dear!

All is not lost

Seasons of pruning are always painful, and it's no secret that this particular season has left my heart especially bruised.

This week there have been a lot of prayers, a lot of honest questions asked, a lot of heart-to-heart talks with Greg, and friends who have come out of the woodwork to offer support. (Seriously, I know I've said this before, but we have the best friends in the world. I'm talking everything from texts, to ice cream, to prayers, to starbucks, to emails... What sort of lottery did I win to end up with such jackpot friends?)

It is a process, I know. There is no easy "fix" for anxiety over your baby or worry about the future. It's no small thing to learn what it means to trust God with the unknown.

I was crying to Greg on Monday night, confessing my worries and fears. Describing to him my desperation with no attempt to find silver linings in my storm. He listened to me, admitted that he shared my worries and then assured me that God was moving in our lives.

I stared at my husband, feeling the intense weight of my burden and wondered how he could sit so effortlessly straight.

"How do you know that?" I asked, desperate for the secret to his peace. I wanted to believe it too, but lacked Greg's confidence.

"God is faithful," he said simply, "He's always come through in the past, so why wouldn't he now."

I just looked at him. Nodding my head. Knowing that what he said was true, but not quite able to hang my heart on it. It seemed too simple an answer for the waves of despair and hopelessness I'd been feeling lately.

"Beth, you know what I think about when I get discouraged?"

He shook his head at me, ever so slightly, as if he was surprised that I didn't already know what he was about to say.

My blank stare must have encouraged him to keep going, because he inched closer to me on the couch, looked straight into my soul and said: "You."

Fresh tears filled my eyes as he went on: "I prayed for years for a wife, and God faithfully delivered the perfect wife for me. He gave me you, Beth. That's what I remind myself of when I'm tempted to doubt God's faithfulness."

I'm sure I've never felt prettier or been snottier as I buried my face in my husband's chest and sobbed.

Thirst in a drought

I'm sitting alone in my living room watching the oscillating fan slowly shake its head back and forth, offering a cool breath each time its face briefly passes me.

The curtains subtly flutter by the open windows, and the stripes of light seeping in through the blinds spill onto the floor in front of me making designs on the carpet.

It's a quiet morning.

Fletcher will be up from his nap any moment.

There is laundry in the dryer that needs to be folded, dishes in the sink that need to be washed, and several sticky spots on the kitchen floor that need to be wiped up -- but I can't bring myself to tackle any of those tasks at this moment. Instead I sit here, palms up, waiting in the quiet, offering up my morning solitude in hopes of hearing something, anything, that will bring me some peace. A whisper as slight as the movement coming from that fan.

It has been a tough season. A dry one. I feel like I am running on fumes, physically and spiritually. I know I need a long deep drink of water that saturates my soul and brings life to my dry limbs, but can only manage a sip of something wet now and then.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11)

This was the verse we studied in church yesterday, one of my favorites. The sermon hit very close to home (although, really, when doesn't a sermon hit close to home these days?) and yet I'm left feeling more confused than anything, and God feels so very far away.

I am alone in my living room. With a lump in my throat and tears rimming in my eyes.

There is a sweet baby in the next room who will receive stinging eye drops that dilate his eyes the moment he wakes up, and I get to be the one to administer said drops 3 times a day over the next 3 days. Pinning his arms down and prying his eyelids open while he cries.

Then I get to slap a patch over his "good" eye. A sticky band-aid of a patch that he's had to wear for over a month now. It makes the skin on his face raw and tender with all the sticking and pulling. It's uncomfortable for him when the temperature rises. It's a temptation for him to pull off when he's riding in his car seat, alone in the back seat where I can't get to him, making it difficult for us to go anywhere or do anything. We're both going stir crazy in the walls of this tiny apartment, but now with his super light-sensitive eyes it makes it difficult to even go outside to play for a little while.

I hate it.

And after all this, he might still need surgery. Something I try not to think about. Something I tell myself we will cross when we come to it.

I think we've all been troopers about the whole thing, I really do. But this morning I am feeling the weight of disappointment, and I'm letting myself honestly wallow in it. Not just disappointment over Fletcher's eyes -- a deep disappointment in our current circumstances, which though I know could be worse, I had imagined would be different.

I feel guilty for admitting my worry, as if I'm neglecting the blessings I know we've received because I also long for more. But it's time to get good and honest, and lately the smile I slap on my face is as false and uncomfortable as Fletcher's eye patch.

Where are you in all this, God?

God is faithful. I know it even though I don't feel it right now.

I'm wringing my hands in grief and anxiety and loneliness, but I know that God is still good.

I am tired, and frustrated, and empty.

God, please fill me up.

Being Still

Fletcher is more and more active as he learns how to use his sturdy little legs and pull up with his strong little arms. He isn't walking yet, but does it make sense to describe him as "running" all day long?

It's a fun season. It's exciting for me to watch him challenge his limbs as he seeks to explore every nook and cranny of his environment. Especially all the amazingly cool glimpses of stuff above eye level.

This kid runs me ragged, just like I knew he would once he began crawling, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Because equally as sweet are the (brief) moments when he is still.

It probably won't be too much longer that Fletcher is breast feeding, but the snuggle time we have together in the evening and first thing in the morning while I'm nursing him is like a balm for my heart. It's one of the only times I can breathe him in, marvel at his little fingers and toes (that are getting bigger and bigger!), and feel the full mass of his being peacefully content to be at rest in my arms.

Also, sometimes Fletcher comes across something that captivates his full attention and he stops to study the found object. This especially happens outside. He'll find a leaf, or one of those weird pod things that fall off the palm trees and he just soaks it in as he turns it over in his clumsy little fingers.

One of my favorite pauses that Fletcher takes these days is his version of a hug. He will find a stuffed animal, grab its nose, eyes, etc. while I name all the features -- and then he'll gently lean forward and rest his forehead against the toy. Be still my heart!

It's through watching Fletcher that I realize how important it is to be still myself. I so long to have goals to run toward, projects to check off my list, and accomplishments that make me feel productive. Often, being still feels like wasted time. Of course I know that's not true, but it is so easy to glorify busyness, isn't it?

I'm making more of a conscious effort to be still. More specifically, to be still before God. I don't want to barrel through my moments with my Heavenly Father any more than I want Fletcher breezing through sweet times of stillness with me.

Be still and know that I am God. 

(Psalm 46:10)

All the rage these days

This little man can't get enough of standing up.

He pulls himself up on just about anything: the couch, the baby gate, the bookshelves, the fridge, the door hinges, the dresser drawers... he somehow manages to shimmy himself up by leaning all his weight into a bare wall!

Intrepid explorer

He is just so curious, and so anxious to see what's just above eye level. A lot of Fletcher's frustration these days stems from not being able to climb higher. It's only a matter of time before he's taking steps without the security of his hand touching some sort of support. Already he makes loops around the perimeter of our apartment as he slides his way around all the furniture.

For so many months, my little bean was so content to hang out and observe -- but no more! He's giving me a run for my money and he's only going to get faster.

This kid is ALL BOY.

Butter bread sandwiches

Greg and I have been watching a miniseries on netflix called Ken Burns: The Dust Bowl that has absolutely captivated us.

It offers some perspective that has been encouraging to us. We are by no means living in a Dust Bowl, but the past year has challenged our comforts in ways I haven't experienced before.

I'm serious, if you get the opportunity: WATCH IT!

One of the testimonials that one woman shared was that families trekking to California in their makeshift covered wagons would often stop by her family's farm and ask her mother for food. Even though they didn't have a lot to spare, the woman said that he mother always gave the travelling families something to eat. Often times it was just butter bread sandwiches, but that was something. Her mother just didn't have it in her to turn those families away hungry.

That story struck a chord in Greg and me, because while times are tight, we recognize that we are provided for. We want to live generously and give from what we have, even if all we can offer is some of our "daily bread," practical as that is.

Grey

Summer is here, and though I know it isn't yet as hot as it will get, we've already had plenty of 90+ degree days that tend to make my spirit wilt.

Despite my best efforts to be like one of those dainty southern women who walk around with their own personal breeze in the face of balmy weather, nothing quite brings out my inner crankiness like the heat.

This morning, however, it is beautifully overcast and grey. The thermostat reads 79 degrees and I've flung every window open wide inviting the cool morning to come in and stay a while.

It's only 9:30 am, and the sun will most likely burn off the cloud cover by the afternoon, forcing Fletcher and I to come inside and shut ourselves in "the cold room" (the bedroom that has an AC unit) but I am grateful for this gloomy start to this day. I think God knew how much I needed it.

Check out those chompers!

Meanwhile, once Fletcher wakes up from his morning nap we are going to hit the town! First we are going to go thrift store shopping with Rhonda to help her look for costumes for the show she's directing, then later on today we have a play date with his buddy.

I'm grateful for the lovely beginning to the fun day we have planned. I hope YOUR day is equally as refreshing and recharging!

Beautifully painful

We've had some big transitions around here lately. We took our little man to see a pediatric eye specialist because we'd noticed that his eyes would occasionally cross.

I'm so glad we took him in, because the doctor told us to try putting a patch over Fletcher's left eye for 3-4 hours a day so that his weaker right eye had a chance to get stronger. Hopefully the patch will fix the problem, otherwise he may have to have surgery (but I'm choosing not to think about that yet.)

Also, Fletcher now has to wear glasses full time. He's doing pretty good with keeping them on, it's only occasionally that he tries to pull them off. I think he enjoys seeing more clearly.

I'm so grateful that Fletcher is doing so well and that he's an overall healthy kid, but it's funny what a mother's heart mourns. I long for my child to be unfamiliar with suffering -- any suffering -- even far-sightedness!  The reality of this fallen world hits so hard in those dear places, and my heart can't help but grieve for this little bump in the road at his tender age.

He does look pretty cute in his glasses though!

I had a wonderful talk with a friend about how even though I don't want my boy to suffer, I also don't want to wish a challenge-free life on him. I have come to know God deeper through my many valleys, and above all I want Fletcher to know God intimately.

It's so difficult to know that my son has to bleed and stumble through valleys of his own. I can't protect him from this world, but I CAN pray that his struggles are fruitful -- that they would cause him to seek our Heavenly Father and delve deeper into the depths of His everlasting love.

God give my baby eyes to see... not my face, but yours.

Family Day

Greg has been up against some writing deadlines so he's been spending a lot of time at the library focusing on getting his scripts completed. On Saturday we had a much needed family day and visited the LA Arboretum.

Greg planned our outing and he decided that we should kick off our adventure with a visit to Sonic for lunch! It's a little bit of a drive, but it was well worth it. That sweet, sweet cherry limeade was so refreshing on a hot day. We sat at a big table outside under an umbrella and Fletcher watched all the servers roll by on skates and sampled bits of my grilled cheese sandwich.

At the arboretum, we saw wild peacocks strutting around like they owned the place and plenty of gorgeous trees and plants. The roads were paved, so it was easy to push Fletcher's stroller around, but Greg also carried him in the bjorn so that we could navigate the little dirt paths down to the lake.

One family brought a bag of cheerios to feed to the fish and there was a feeding frenzy when giant fish, turtles, ducks and geese all came out to fight for a bite. It was really fun to point things out to Fletcher, and in spite of it being a hot day he did pretty good while we explored.

Family photo

On the way home, our little guy fell fast asleep in his car seat so Greg and I pulled over and bought some gatorades for our drive home. It was really nice to be able to talk and drive and just spend quality time together.

Life moves at such a fast pace these days, it's so nice to take the time to just be together and enjoy being a family. I'm so glad that Greg is game for adventures like that.

Poop

Fletcher had a blow out in his diaper this evening as we were standing in line at Trader Joe's. I was unfortunately holding him on my hip and therefore in the... er... splash zone.

Let's just say I've never felt more attractive in public than I did this evening when I purchased vegetable broth and white wine using ONLY the left side of my body to handle the transaction because the right side was smothered in poop that was oozing out of a happy little diaper.

One of those mommy rights of passage, yes? Until today I'd never been pooped on in public.

I'll spare you the picture (yes, I took a picture to show Greg on his break).
Instead, you can feast your eyes on these two handsomes:

Goodnight all, I'm going to bed!

Pinch pinch

I just had to post a photo of Fletcher in his little crab outfit that his Grammy sent him:

I die!

Gratitude trumps worry tonight

The below post was written by my husband, Greg.
I love him very much and am so thankful to have such a wise and loving man leading our family.

Our mailman came at the late hour of 6pm tonight and dropped off 2 letters.

One was a simple one-page letter that held the test results from our son Fletcher's recent blood work.

At his first year check-up, his doctor ordered a few blood tests and a urinalysis with a very strange request - Fletcher was REQUIRED to give his urine sample when they were taking the blood from him.  The nurse and the doctor were both adamant that if he did not pee at the precise moment the blood was being drawn, we would all have to return for another baby blood-letting and parental tear-letting.  As a 32 year old man, I know I could not do what was being asked of my 1 year old son.  I'm pretty squeamish and have to use all of my mental capacity to focus on not passing out when I have to give blood.  I can't imagine the mess that would result from me giving blood and trying to pee at the same time.

But our warrior son did it.  Like a champ, he produced enough urine that they could do the test and we could shuffle him away from the mean needles.

We opened the letter and read Blood Count: Normal.  Lead Level: Normal.  Urinalysis: Normal.  Followed by a simple sentence:  All Labs are Normal.

Relief.  Peace.  Pride.  Joy.

The other letter was from an insurance company regarding Fletcher's recent visit to the High Risk Infant Clinic.

Since my son was born 2 months early, he has to visit this clinic from time to time to make sure he's developing properly.  This is the clinic that helped us get set up with the physical therapist that meets with Fletcher once a week and with this recent visit they helped us figure out ways to increase his diet so he gets closer to his appropriate weight.  As new parents, and as the parent of a kid who sees several specialists and therapists, we get all kinds of confusing letters from health insurance companies and offices.  Letters with big scary numbers that make your heart stop and abbreviated codes that confound your sleep deprived brain.  Letters that look like bills but that say in bold at the top THIS IS NOT A BILL.  So what am I looking at here?  The only way understanding this letter could be any harder is if they asked me to provide a blood and urine sample while I tried to make sense of it.

It would seem this High Risk Clinic visit may not have been covered under my newer insurance.  The jury is still out.  But after staring at this letter for a good 10 minutes, my brain could only see the numbers that followed that dollar sign.  Money that we have but need.  Money that might slip away all because our son needed to learn how to bulk up.  Money that we saved for something "Important."

Fear.  Doubt.  Anger.  Greed.

And that's where I sat for the next half-hour.  In an ugly stew of question marks and dollar signs. 

Until I looked down and saw that first letter that I had tossed aside and forgotten.  It wasn't confusing.  It wasn't something it said it wasn't.  It said, clear as day, TEST RESULTS at the top and it told me everything in my son was Normal.

Everyday I wake up with two lists like these letters.  

One list says my son is healthy and happy.  It says my wife will stand with me no matter what.  It says I have a Creator who made me for a purpose and loves me.  It says I have a supportive family and a job and a car and a place to live and Mountain Dew in my fridge.  It is a long list and it says at the top "BLESSINGS."

And then there's this other list that claims my bank account isn't quite big enough.  It says I need more space and I'm losing my hair.  It says I have nothing of value to offer the world.  It says it's easier to be apathetic than to really care.  It reminds me to never take risks.  It says in an unclear font at the top "THESE ARE NOT WORRIES."

The funny thing is I hold on to both lists.  I'm constantly editing and refining each of them.  I wrote them.  They are always there and always will be.

But the amount of time I spent with these two letters tonight made me wonder:

When I have so much to celebrate, why waste time on anything else?

Finding my stride

I couldn't make it through Fletcher's new copy of The Giving Tree this evening. It was a generous birthday gift -- shiny and new -- and a story I remembered fondly even though I hadn't picked up in a long time, so you can imagine my surprise when the lump in my throat grew with the turn of each page.

I abandoned the story halfway through and was rescued by a nearby copy of Mr. Brown Can Moo Can You. (God bless you, Dr. Seuss!)

Motherhood has given me a new lens through which I see... well, everything! It isn't a bad thing, but there are times when I'm caught off guard by the lack of the carefree haze that coated my rose colored glasses. It's as if all my senses are heightened by the new wonderfulness that my son brings, and at times the sharpness of such beautiful clarity can be painful.

It has been a full year since Greg and I welcomed our little bean into our lives. An amazing, life changing, challenging, fantastic year.

I'm finding my stride as a mother. Learning, through often humbling lessons, what it looks like to be the sort of wife and mother I hope to be to my boys. I'm learning how to hate my own selfishness, how to graciously embrace sacrifice, how to live generously, and how to acknowledge our abundance.

Happy 1st birthday to my little darling, my honey bear, my sweetheart, my bean, my snuggle bug, my Fletcher. I love you so much, and I am so very honored to be your mommy.

I've spent a year attempting to walk in the shoes worn by thousands of other women before me, and though I'm stubbed and blistered, I'm looking forward to my next lap.  It feels good to look over my shoulder and see the distance our little family has covered in a year. I'm encouraged, and feeling more and more comfortable in this new life.

The incredible shrinking Kermit

This little boy...

Oh, what a year we've had!

A wonderful, wonderful year indeed.

Peaceful morning

The past 2 mornings Fletcher has been up for the day just before 6:00 am. He's been sleeping better at night (praise the Lord!!!) so I don't mind if he has an earlier start, although if he suddenly starts sleeping in until 7 I will be more than happy to accommodate!

We've been enjoying the quiet early hours together with snuggling and nursing, playing with the various stuffed animals he has in the bedroom, bouncing his wiggles out in his johnny-jump-up while I make coffee and clean up the kitchen, and then eating a big boy breakfast in his high chair.

Today we also skyped with Uncle Eric to wish him a happy birthday.

Now Fletcher is down for his morning nap, and I'm stealing the rest of this quiet morning for myself. I have a hot mug of java, a comfy glider in the corner, and a blog that is aching for an update!

F and me. Can you tell he's teething?

Speaking of birthdays, I recently had one myself!

During one of my recent neighborhood walks with Fletcher, I stopped into the thrift store down the street to peruse the goods. For the record, I am in awe of people who shop thrift stores regularly and really wish that I could develop an eye for that sort of thing. I rarely see the potential in the cast off items, but on this particular day THREE items caught my eye. A beautiful green cut glass cake stand, and two mint colored milk glass canisters that very subtly read "coffee" and "tea" in raised letters.

Greg and I live pretty frugally these days, so I admired these gems and then walked away, only to find myself thinking about them later that afternoon, even describing the treasures to Greg when he was home for his lunch break. I told him that I had decided that after Fletcher's afternoon nap, I was going to go back and splurge on the items. Greg agreed and even encouraged me to treat myself, so you can imagine my disappointment when I returned and saw that all three items were gone.

Disappointed, I kicked myself for not jumping on them earlier, told myself it wasn't meant to be, and went on with my life -- only to wake up on my birthday and find that my sneaky husband had somehow managed to beat me to the treasures and surprise me with all three things!

My pretties

Isn't Greg the greatest? What a thoughtful guy. He is so encouraging in all my attempts to be domestic and make our place a home. I want our place to be functional, comfortable, and welcoming to our guests as well as my family and he really encourages my attempts to be hospitable.  He also took me to brunch on my birthday and Fletcher was on his best behavior as he played in the high chair at the restaurant so it was a really nice family outing.

I can't believe we're coming up on Fletcher's first birthday soon! Wow. It's almost been a year that he's been in our lives. On one hand, I can't believe how quickly this year has flown by, but on the other hand I can't really remember life without Fletcher. It just sort of feels like he's always been a part of this family.

Oh! Perfect timing, I just hear my little guy starting to stir. I'm going to go get him up now.

Family Vacation

Our family was blessed with a recent trip to visit my relatives in Florida and Georgia a couple of weeks ago.

It was the first time Fletcher got to meet my brother as well as my grandfather, plus sweet reunions were had with my parents, my grandmother and cousin Crystal.

Nadine soaks in some baby love.

Grandpa shared his insightful visions with a fascinated Fletcher bean.

Grammy proved herself (again) as the queen of bedtime stories with a freshly bathed and 'jammied' babe perched upon her lap.

Uncle Eric and Fletcher talked sports until the wee hours of nap time.

We had such an amazing time. Greg was able to stay 4 or 5 days before he had to head back to the west coast for work, but Fletcher and I got to stay nearly 2 full weeks. We definitely missed Greg, but the time we had soaking up the sweet face time with my relatives left us filled to the brim with their love and hospitality.

Since moving to California, it has always been tough to be so far from family. Now throw a kid in the mix and the distance breeds a heartache that I would rather not feel, but that hollow pit in my stomach is always there when we're dropped off at the airport to say our curbside goodbyes.

For a good week after returning to our "real life" here in LA, I moped and grew teary at the drop of a pin, feeling sorry for myself as I tried to ignore that familiar dull ache of homesickness. After 2 weeks of doting attention of loved ones, the grass definitely seemed greener anywhere but here, and I found myself battling the "if only's" something awful. Dangerous ground, I'm afraid, because the "if only's" tend to paint a very appealing picture of a place that doesn't exist.

Here's the thing, it's not about location. Truly. Years of being a military brat taught me that.

No, it's about contentment. And I find that contentment springs not from location, or things, or even people -- but from gratitude.

So I started refocusing on all the blessings I have to be thankful for, and steadily and surely my contentment grew. Even as I longed for less distance between me and my beloved family members, I could savor the precious memories we made during our recent trip, and count myself lucky that time spent in person with that bunch is never wasted. Perhaps I'd be tempted to take my loved ones for granted if I saw them every day? (I hope not!)

We had a fantastic trip, and I'm eager for the next visit we get to have. In the meantime, however, I'm very thankful for the life Greg and Fletcher and I have here in our sweet little bungalow in California, where we have a beautiful community of loved ones that we would miss just as much if we were ever to relocate east...

I might as well enjoy the now for as long as I have it, the future has been coming so fast lately that I would hate to look back and miss something that I couldn't seem to see even when it was right in front of me. Rather, I'd like to look back and think to myself: "Yep, I sucked the marrow completely out of that moment. Good job, me!"

Like this moment here?
Marrow: good and sucked!

Happy Valentines Day!

This morning we all bundled up against the crisp air and went to McDonalds for an early morning family breakfast date. It was really nice. I know it probably doesn't seem like that big of a deal to do for Valentines day, but for us it was something different than our normal routine and it was really fun.

Fletcher was very well behaved, which was nice because Greg and I got to have lovely conversation while he played in his car seat. We each got to eat our McMuffins in peace and then savor our hot coffees while Fletcher ate his breakfast of mango puree (which he loves!)

I took this photo early this week:

I remember when Kermit was bigger than Fletcher, but our little guy is growing like a weed lately! (He's also teething, which is why he was reaching for the blanket to chew on. Heh.)

Happy Valentines day!

Fletcher's 1st apple

Fletcher is starting to enjoy baby food in addition to milk (he likes fruit the best!) and he also has 2 teeth poking through his bottom gums now.

Our sweet friend Liz gave us this fun little teething toy that allows us to offer Fletcher a slice of apple for him to chomp on. I took a video of his first impressions:

Eatin' apples is serious business!

It is so amazing to see him learn as he tries new things.