All hoods should come with ears.

Six weeks later, and the most important thing I've learned is that I don't know jack about what I'm doing. My degree and experience? Mean that I am qualified to list all of the ways my inadequacies could damage Asher's psyche. Great. Honestly, the past six weeks would have probably been easier had I studied, I don't know, math or something in school. The best advice I've heard so far is that you're going to make a million decisions for your child; you just hope that you don't screw up all million of them.

Even so, I've never had so much fun.

baby news

Only the grandparents will care about this, probably, but I'll share it with the world at large anyway. By the way, I've posted five times in seven days. This is how you know that a). I'm finally finally feeling back to normal, and b). it's been rainy and cool for weeks on end in Alabama. I feel like Taylor, alternately whining at the door and chasing my tail. Let me out already!

But I digress. Asher will be six weeks old on Tuesday. Here's what he's accomplished in the last six weeks (aside from being born, learning to breathe, swallow, and poop, which are understood).

1. He started smiling last week! It's really the best thing I've ever seen.
2. He's eating about five ounces per feeding, and rarely spits up. The amount he's eating per meal is important because he has to take in so many ounces per day, and obviously, the more he eats during daylight hours, the less he needs to eat at night. Which leads us to ...
3. For the past week, he's slept 5-6 hours at night between feedings. This may not sound like a big deal, but there's a monumental difference between having five hours of uninterrupted sleep versus two. He's also gotten the hang of days and nights. For a few weeks he had them confused, so we spent most of the night trying to coax him back to sleep, which meant I was only sleeping for an hour or so at a time. Now, he usually sleeps through his night feedings. Yay for us! (By the way, thank you Kim and Halle for teaching me how to help him figure out nights and days.)
4. Gas pain has gotten much much better. For a while, it was happening 3-4 times a day. Now, thanks to Mylecon and Levisin, he only has it a few times a week.
5. He's beginning to learn how to go to sleep on his own. I debated on how to handle sleep, but because his belly bothered him so much in the beginning, I haven't pushed it at all. I've been holding/ rocking him to sleep each time. Which I really love doing (who doesn't love rocking a baby?), but he was beginning to ONLY sleep on me, which is not good. Suddenly (through no effort on my part whatsoever), he'll squirm himself back to sleep without me. Last night, he never even cried, just drifted off. BEAUTIFUL. I'm really not comfortable letting him cry anything out at this age, so I'm hoping this is a sign that I won't have to.
6. The more he grows, the more he looks like Brian. He's built like Brian, too. His torso and arms are so long; 0-3 month shirts fit just right (which means they'll be too short in a few weeks), but newborn pants are still too big in the waist. His newborn hats are also too small (a fact that we discovered, much to Asher's DISMAY, by trial and error).

For my part - at this point, I L-O-V-E being at home with him. He's growing so fast, I already feel like if I blink I'll miss something. At this stage, I feel really good about our decision.

it's a hell of a life, but it's somebody's life, up and down the street all day.

Hey Band Family, remember how bad January always was? I hated every January that we were in the band, but I never saw it coming. I remember thinking, "What is WRONG? Why is life so busy and complicated right now? Why haven't I seen my husband in weeks?" It was because it was January, and January was always the month to either practice for a tour, or record an album, or drive back and forth to North Carolina three days every week, or some other ridiculous and exhausting task that, back in October, had seemed a completely reasonable thing to agree to do. Remember? I got Taylor because of one of those Januarys (-ies?). By Valentine's Day, I'd had enough. I finally told Brian, "Either you come home, or I want a dog. I need for it to matter if I am home at night." We picked out Taylor the next week.

Now that I think about it, I always hate January. Last year, we shared croupe with a multitude of children, and started to get serious about where our lives were going. The January before, we'd just moved from a situation we loved into one that wasn't all we'd expected it to be. So it wasn't just during band life; January usually doesn't go well for me.

This one didn't disappoint.

Our heat was out for the better part of a week, we've had a major life change, and Brian hasn't had been home for more than a few hours at a time since (NO KIDDING) January 2. Last night at dinner, I was saying, "What is WRONG? Why is life so busy and complicated right now? Why haven't I seen my husband in weeks?" Duh.

Good riddance January. Next year, someone remind me to duck and cover.

who knew?

I'm no good at useful assertiveness. Normally I do absolutely nothing until I run out of patience, at which point I become incoherently enraged and yell at Brian until he calls and yells at the offending party. And THEN something gets done. It really is an ineffective way to do business, but that's what normally happens. Not this time.

Our heat has been out since Monday night, and this is one of the two weeks out of the year in Alabama when heat is actually necessary. As a result, we haven't slept at home all week. Brian and I once spent a week in Birmingham without heat or hot water in 20* temperatures, but a baby changes everything. So each day, our maintenance guy would promise that it's working now, and each afternoon, Brian would discover that he's wrong, our heat still won't come on and we have to spend another night away from home. Unfortunately, we usually realized he was wrong after business hours, and he wouldn't return our phone calls until the next morning. Three days in a row we have done this.

This morning I left a message for the maintenance man that said, "I just want to be clear. Your day does not end until my heat is working and I can go home." The result? I have the home numbers of the property manager and the maintenance man, an apology delivered in person from the rental company, reduced rent for February, a promise that they will respond in the dead of night if necessary, and, most importantly, HEAT.

I guess the cliche about a mother bear and her cubs is true.

I've been trying to hold back so that some of my SMART THOUGHTFUL FRIENDS would COMMENT ALREADY about Christian scholarship, but alas ... I have too much free time, and you all haven't been very eager to speak up. So feel free to keep commenting, but I'm moving forward.

My friend Stephanie? One of those SMART THOUGHTFUL FRIENDS with a beautiful family and her prepregnancy figure even after two babies in as many years? Taught her dog to walk on the treadmill this week. Seriously. But it's okay, because HER friend is pregnant and has been using HER VET'S ULTRASOUND MACHINE to try to figure out the sex of her baby.

That's all I have to say about that.

a quote and a question

“The matter is quite simple. The Bible is very easy to understand. But we Christians are a bunch of scheming swindlers. We pretend to be unable to understand it because we know very well that the minute we understand, we are obligated to act accordingly. Take any words in the New Testament and forget everything except pledging yourself to act accordingly. My God, you will say, if I do that my whole life will be ruined. How would I ever get on in this world? Herein lies the real place of Christian scholarship. Christian scholarship is the Church’s prodigious invention to defend itself against the Bible, to ensure that we can continue to be good Christians without the Bible coming too close.”

This is a quote from Kierkegaard that Heather posted recently. I've been thinking about it since I read it, and I would like to hear the counterargument. Several of you have chosen Christian scholarship as your profession, and I don't mean to insult you or to put you on the defensive. I just want to hear the other side.

Any takers?

rainy thoughts on desire

Another rainy Sunday. I've been trying all day to write a post in my head without much luck. Julie asked, "Why do you want what you want?" She hasn't found an answer, except to say, "Because I do."

I've been thinking about it all day. Why do I want what I want? Sitting here, with a baby asleep on my chest, why did I want what I wanted for so long? I don't think I have a better answer than Julie. I can tell you exactly what I wanted, how much I wanted it, or how it feels for that desire to be fulfilled. But it would all be a description of the topic more than an answer to the question.

There's a quote by Dan Allander that I frequently butcher, but the crux of it is, the closer something is to your heart, the less control you have over it. For example, what I eat for lunch is mostly up to me, but lunch isn't really close to my heart (unless it's really good chicken salad, but that's a separate issue). However, I had very little control over when I fell in love with Brian.

In light of this, is there anything more intimate than desire? Is it surprising that Julie can't defend it? I can't either. It is what it is - whether it's a relationship or babies or a home or a ministry or a job, we all want what we want because we do.

Thoughts?

Look at that happy baby.



PS - A sample of the conversation over dinner:
ME: I have a busy day tomorrow.
HIM: What are you doing?
ME: I'm meeting Carrie for coffee at 9, and Mikkee will be here at noon.
HIM: Are you crazy?
ME: (stopping to consider a. if I am, and b. why this statement would evoke such a response) No ... why do you ask?
HIM: Are you really going to get Squirt out the door by 9?
ME: Yes I am. By 8:30, actually.
HIM: And not lose your mind?
ME: Well, no, I didn't promise THAT.

I will be able to leave the house by 8:30. I WILL. Though I'm not sure my mind will join me.

four weeks later

I WOKE UP yelling at Brian (good morning to you, too). That pretty well set the tone for the rest of my day. Does anyone else feel like it's been four months, maybe, or four years? Probably not, but I do.

Asher is currently asleep in the swing, slumped completely over and creating, no doubt, a swing-tray-indention on his forehead. I keep thinking, he looks uncomfortable, I should move him. And then I think, crazy woman! He's ASLEEP, don't you dare move him. He can breathe, he's not crying - that's all that matters.

Don't hear me complaining, because I'm not. It's just been that kind of day. With any luck, tomorrow will be better.

1-15-07

"The strength of your walk depends on the preciousness of others."

This is one of the basic principles of the Searcy home, and this weekend, as Asher and I camped out in my parents' living room, it came to mind again. It's easy to consider the preciousness of others when you're staying for a weekend. It's harder when you're pregnant and chronically tired, or living with someone else's sick children, or when life in general is not going as planned. Even worse is that, as often as not, I don't even think about it. I think about myself most of the time.

I stink at it, but I want to do it better. That's what has been on my mind today.

We interrupt baby mania to announce ...

My announcement isn't exactly announcement-worthy, but it hasn't happened since (no kidding) the mid-90s. Its infrequency is actually probably more interesting than the thing itself. Maybe I shouldn't do it, after all, and see if I can hold out another nine years ... Enough. Here it is: I found a TV show that is currently on the air that I like. Is that too boring to be announced? Anyone who knows me in real life already knows I don't care much about TV, and I only watch DVDs or the news, if I watch anything. I even gave up crime shows, my long-time naptime companions, because I was tired of the violence. But now, Friday Night Lights has sucked me in. Have you seen it? I like the family/small-town dynamics. I also like that some of the families actually like each other. When was the last time you saw a functional family on television? Anyway, I'm sure it will become ridiculous in a season or two, and I'm sure I'll lose interest, but for now I'm a fan.

To alleviate any fears that I am taking a more active interest in pop culture, I offer a poem. In honor of high school football.

Autumn Begins in Martins Ferry, Ohio
- James Wright

In the Shreve High football stadium,
I think of Polacks nursing long beers in Tiltonsville,
And gray faces of Negroes in the blast furnace at Benwood,
And the ruptured night watchman of Wheeling Steel,
Dreaming of heroes.

All the proud fathers are ashamed to go home.
Their women cluck like starved pullets,
Dying for love.

Therefore,
Their sons grow suicidally beautiful
At the beginning of October,
And gallop terribly against each other's bodies.

Sing with me now ...

Got our first few bills from the hospital. It cost 18,000 fun-loving dollars for me to birth that baby. He used up 4,000 of his very own dollars on, what? Hats and diapers, is my guess. Sing with me now - Oh, how I love TheCoffeeShop, Oh, how I love TheCoffeeShop, Oh, how I love TheCoffeeShop, because of in-sur-ance.

It's a rainy gloomy Sunday morning, and I miss my church. I'd like to be with them this morning, but alas - three more weeks until we can take Asher out. He's been to breakfast a few times, and he made a break for it once and spent ten minutes or so in Wal-mart, but we're trying to avoid germs as much as possible, especially since he was born in the middle of flu season. Church is pretty germy, unfortunately. So here we sit, one grunting in a bouncy seat, the other catching up on email. I guess this isn't a bad way to spend a rainy morning, either.

alphabet soup

A. Asher woke up this morning! Before, he would open his eyes for a few minutes at a time, but this morning he was wide-eyed for hours. It is supercute. He definitely has gray eyes, and looks more like Brian every day.

H. Did I tell you that Halle had her baby, too? Levi Hagen Searcy was born on December 30 weighing TEN POUNDS. Yikes.

N. Everyone is posting New Years Resolutions. There are so many new things happening in our lives that I really don't have the energy to add to the list. So my New Years Resolution is to RELAX and ENJOY my life. And to wash my tennis shoes - they are still jello-stained from a preschool lesson gone awry. AND I'd like to start writing more than updates and anecdotes again - maybe by next fall I'll be in a more writable frame of mind. So maybe I do have a few resolutions. Relax. Wash. Write. Repeat.

S. A year ago today I was hired by everyone's favorite coffee shop. Let's talk for a minute about God's provision, and how a barely-above-minimum-wage job has not only paid a few bills, it's paid for a baby AND given us free coffee for a year. What more could a girl need?

Because it's been, like, DAYS since I posted any pictures.

If you are reading this, you are at the wrong site. Go now and read "The Boobs Stuck Under the Bed in Paris Story" at Joshilyn Jackson's site. You won't be sorry.

Happy birthday, dear Mikkee, Happy birthday to you.

And many more.

and a happy new year.

People from church have been bringing us meals, which is SO nice and SO VERY useful right now, since we are functioning in a daze that Brian and I have termed "baby brain." It's true - I have an acute case of baby brain. I rarely know what day it is, much less what time Asher can have gas drops again, or if I have eaten today. So please don't hear me complaining when I tell you that a very sweet lady brought us an ENTIRE TURKEY tonight. THE WHOLE THING. I just put five (count them - FIVE) bags of turkey in the freezer.

Turkey, anyone?