part 1: the view from here

The most frustrating thing about laundry is that it never ends. Even when every single sock and towel and t-shirt has been folded and put away, you're still wearing clothes that will soon be in the hamper. The best you can hope for is an "almost done" before you start the process all over again.

Welcome to parenthood.

Asher and I can have the happiest, most peaceful, sleep-filled, full day, and the best possible scenario is that we'll wake up and do it all over again tomorrow. So, like every daily task, there's a temptation to check out, let your mind wander a bit. Except - this is also the most important job I'm ever going to do. I'm shaping somebody's personality and confidence and ability to love and be loved and succeed in life, not just in the sweeping, dramatic gestures I imagine such a job would require, but in tiny ways, all the time. It's all really intimidating.

I've decided that anyone who writes "how to" books on parenting is unbelievably presumptuous. And my drive to do everything right, to make an A in parenting, if you will, is as nutty as the books that tell me how. So, dear reader, I need you. You can help by reminding me to RELAX. ENJOY THIS (which I am, very very much, but a little reminder never hurt anyone). This isn't entirely like laundry. It does end, eventually. I don't want to remember this as an anxious time (particularly when that anxiety is self-enduced). I want to remember the silliness and dreaminess of it all, the dailyness of holding and rocking and talking to a baby. It's time for me to learn how to let "almost" be enough.

Because it really is.

I've started about four posts, but I'm so tired that they all end up sounding bitter, with a sarcastic i'm-joking-but-i'm-not-kidding feel to them. So, I've written, read, and then deleted off and on all morning.

What I keep trying to say - without any sinister cackling or eye rolling - is that I am t-i-r-e-d. The baby and I have had a series of hard days, which has left me with a question for you. If you are a mom and have chosen to follow a schedule for your baby, how do you balance that schedule with the rest of life? If I adhere strictly to the best sleeping schedule for him, I can't get anything else done. Seriously - he has about an hour and a half window between when he finishes eating and when he falls asleep again. If I'm lucky, I may be able to run to the post office during that time, but I can't go to the grocery store or see a friend. So we usually do the best we can, but after five days of doing the best we can, Asher and I are both chronically sleepy and irritable. Any suggestions?

Taylor is at the groomers. They asked me to bring in his shot records - which are, for all that I know, still in the basement in Kansas - and when I didn't have them, they asked me to fax them in this morning. Insert rolling eyes here.

Take a nap on my behalf today. With any luck, I'll be in a better mood tomorrow.

laughing baby

And a story -

I spent my Sunday morning with the toddlers. I haven't been in a classroom with little ones since we left Birmingham, so today was superfun for me. There was a little boy who had never been to our church before, so today was Very Sad for him. Most of my morning was spent trying to comfort and/or distract him. Towards the end, I could tell that the minister was praying, so the little boy and I put our ears up to the door and I said, "Listen, he's talking to Jesus." The little boy started crying again, saying, "I want MY Jesus."

in the air

Tis the season for charitable causes.

* April 14 is the AIDS walk at Blount Cultural Park.
* April 14 is ALSO zoo weekend (which I know has to mean something to someone, but not to me, so much).
* April 21 is the Walk for Autism at Vaughn Road Park.
* April 21 is ALSO the Walk for Life to fight breast cancer. I'm pretty sure that's at the Coliseum.

Those are just the signs posted in my neighborhood. I'm sure there's more.

Which is to say - spring is here. Asher and Brian are wearing shorts, the entire neighborhood has taken up running, the trees are blooming, and there isn't an allergy-free person in a 50 mile radius. There's no way to exaggerate how much pollen is in the air. The cars are currently filmy green, and I swear it RAINED POLLEN a few days ago. It's an antihistamine's dream around here.



When I look back on this time, 40 Days will be the soundtrack of Spring 2007. You know you do this too - certain music represents the time and place I first heard it. Room for Squares is November in Montgomery (the first time we lived here, before he was on the radio and Andy Cloninger said, "John Mayer? You mean the guy that works the door at Eddie's Attic?"), Living With Ghosts is the summer I spent alone in Nashville, Collision is leaving the prayer room in Kansas City. And now 40 Days is Asher no longer a newborn, but still a little guy, laughing and drooling and doing Very Cute Baby Things all the time. Plus the music is all hopeful and springy anyway, so it fits the weather and the general tenor of my life.

Happy sneezing, everyone.

I know many of you already read Joshilyn's blog (Faster than Kudzu) and don't need me to direct you there every time she says something funny, but nonetheless I feel compelled to do so. If you're killing time on your computer (and you know you are), check out Joshilyn's most recent post. The discussion of her WEIRD escaping cracks me up. I can relate.

equality riders

It is clear that there are people who do hold the love of Jesus Christ above the condemnation of humankind. Read more HERE.

MidAmerica Nazarene University was in our area of Kansas City. We saw a concert there once, and many of my coworkers at the coffee shop were students there. We disagreed on some details (one guy told me he would never dance with a girl until he was married to her), but my experience was that they were a very sincere and very loving group of people. I'm so so glad this was the experience of the Equality Riders, too.

By the way, they'll be in Birmingham - at Samford - on March 30. Anybody want to join me?

three months old today

Word to Big Bird.

evidence

exhibit A: (from Stranger at the Gate, by Mel White. He's talking about his friendship with a man who has just died):

"The Jesus whom he loved and followed was a radical young teacher who preferred the company of sinners and outcasts, who raged at church leaders for their hypocrisy and demanded honesty from everyone. The Gospel that Jim preached was the Gospel of personal liberation, and those who had been liberated by that Gospel were called to liberate all others who suffered. Jim's lectures ... helped me understand how religious leaders often protect and preserve the status quo while God raises up in every generation a handful of courageous prophets to confront the church and keep the truth alive."

I know that Jesus. And this week, I've been wishing he would get off my back.

Exhibit B: "Sometimes when I lose my grip, I wonder what to make of heaven
All the times I thought to reach up
All the times I had to give
Babies underneath their beds
Hospitals that cannot treat all the wounds that money causes,
All the comforts of cathedrals
All the cries of thirsty children - this is our inheritance
All the rage of watching mothers - this is our greatest offense
Oh my God."
- Jars of Clay

Exhibit C: The seven woes, from Matthew 23. Jesus says that the Pharisees are tying up heavy loads and putting them on men's shoulders, without doing a thing to lift them. They're shutting the kingdom of heaven in men's faces, and making converts twice as much a son of hell (!). He accuses them of neglecting the more important matters of the law - justice, mercy, and faithfulness - to focus on the details. He says they are straining out a gnat, but swallowing a camel.

Exhibit D: In John 8, Jesus ignored the letter of the law to show mercy - and He was perfect in every way.

In my own life, I've been standing in this scene of the woman who is about to be stoned for a long time, frozen by ambivalence. Here's something of my train of thought - "but the law says ... but this can't be right ... but it does say ... but what about mercy? and love? ... but it says it right here ..." Meanwhile the woman is just hoping to live.

Enough already.

By the way, I was talking to a friend the other night about this. Her response was, "You're ambivalent? I thought you were just apathetic." God forgive me.

birthdays

Here's one of the many ways in which my life resembles an episode of the Twilight Zone:

My dads both have the same birthday. Today.

So! Happy birthday Dad and Dad. I love you.

Also - we have lived in Montgomery (this time around) for a year now. In case you were wondering.

Asher is the new Tom. Or some other really common name.

On Wednesday, I ran into one of my old customers from the coffee shop. Last year we bonded over pregnancy woes (she was a week behind me, so we were hitting the same stages at about the same time). Obviously, she's had her baby by now, and I've had mine. So I'm asking her how she's feeling, how the baby's doing, if it was a boy or girl, etc. She replied, "It's a boy, and his name is Luke Asher. We're calling him Asher."

No kidding.

Then, just now, I was enjoying the quiet and thumbing through websites. I followed a link that led to a link that led to a blog belonging to - ASHER. Asher David, this time. Who was born subsequent to an almost-but-not-quite-emergency c-section.

Get out of town.

I'm telling you - everyone thought it was an odd name, but Asher is the new Tom. Mark my words.

Ashers of the world, unite!

The four months we spent in the prayer room was ... man, I keep trying to think of words to describe it, but everything sounds cliche. I'll let "powerful" suffice, though it's not nearly the right word. Anyway, though I've never questioned the decision to leave, part of me will always miss being there, will always wish we could go back.

Having said that - GUESS WHAT. The prayer room has a traveling ministry called "OneThing," and they are coming to NASHVILLE. In APRIL. And. And! It's FREE. So, if you live along 65 - and almost all of you do - try try try to go, and I'll do the same. It will be SO good.

Guess what else. OneThing has a blog, that I discovered this evening. Yay for me! Click here if you're interested. In honor, I'm shamelessly copying and pasting a post from the site. Imitation is the highest form of flattery, right?

Quote of the Week
March 5th, 2007 By Hollie ·

This week’s quote is an excerpt from a farewell letter written by Father Christian, a martyr in Algiers in December 1993/January 1994. The “friend” addressed in this paragraph is his executioner.

“And also you, the friend of my final moment, who would not be aware of what you were doing. Yes, I also say this ‘thank you’ and ‘A-Dieu’ to you in whom I see the face of God. And may we find each other, happy thieves, in Paradise, if it pleases God, the Father of us both.”

You know already why I love them.

the Ides of March

How many psychiatrists does it take to change a lightbulb?
Just one. But the lightbulb has to really want to change.
Ha.

I'm reading an autobiography right now. I usually don't like them - I think James Frey is the rule more than the exception - but this one, so far, has been interesting. Last night, he - Mel White is the guy's name - mentioned the Civil Rights movement, and spending a week with Dr. King in 1958. He was stirred by Dr. King's words, but never got involved. He was too busy, too frantic, really, with the business of "ministry" to drive across the country and risk being arrested for something that felt unfamiliar and strange. He looks back with regret at allowing the moment to pass him by. I've done that - been so caught up in the flurry of religious activity that I missed the opportunity to love and serve someone. I want to be better about that.

In general, what I've been thinking about lately is redemption and evangelism and the cost of letting other people tell you what God thinks about you and how Jesus said, "In my Father's house there are many rooms. If it were not so, I would have told you." This is a much bigger and more personal conversation than I'm willing to have publicly, but that is the general direction of my thoughts lately.

I'm off to feed the happiest cuddliest baby ever. Happy and cuddly, that is, until bedtime, when he employs what Brian refers to as Baby Cussing to tell us how he feels about falling asleep. He really is a lot like Brian - happy and observant and engaged, laughing and playing with his hands and generally being very cute, until he's OVER IT and IT'S HOT IN HERE and LEAVE ME ALONE, ALREADY. Sound familiar?

Happy Thursday, everyone.

the wailin' jennys

(PS How impressed are you that I figured out how to post this on my blog? Way impressed, I'm sure, as well you should be.)

Happy Birthday Cindy!

AND

This is my favorite Post Secret.

AND

yay and thank you Margaret for The Wailin' Jennys.

it's been a funny week.

in which I don't elaborate

I have a happy baby and a happy life, and the sun is shining in Alabama, and today I'm aware of how good all of those things are.

Also, as a believer I'm wary of any argument in which Christianity is pitted against love. There is something very, very wrong with that. I keep thinking of the Scripture where Jesus said, "But go and learn what this means: I desire mercy, not sacrifice."

Because I aim to please

and I'm always willing to humor Nick:

Lately, I have been rotating between

* my personal "best of" collection of the Indigo Girls (I laughed as I said it, this is my situation, it's not pictures or priviledge, just self-preservation ...)

* Good Monsters, by Jars of Clay (When I go don't cry for me, in my Father's arms I'll be ... )

* Baby Bunny Classics: Nursing Baby (specifically, Prelude Op. 28 No. 7 in A Major, by Chopin)

* Continuum, by John Mayer ("Had a talk with my old man, said help me understand, he said turn 68, you'll renegotiate ... ")

* Gather Up, by Peter Bradley Adams ("Everybody had one good year, everybody let their long hair down, everybody had one bad dream, everybody saw the bright sun shine ...")

Because the rest of you probably aren't as committed to the Today show, I feel it my duty to report

that they interviewed a woman this morning who had a 93 pound tumor! For a long time (I missed how long, I was pouring more coffee)! And didn't know it!

How ya gonna NOT KNOW about a 93 pound tumor?! Wouldn't the extra 93 pounds clue you in?

nostalgic

My thoughts are scattered, and I am slightly overstimulated after a succession of busy days, so good luck following my train of thought.

One of my favorite things about being married? Is a dinner that encompasses a conversation with old friends, the particulars of a wishlist of our dreamhouse, the nature of mercy, and quoting an entire scene from Season 4 ("'Charlie! Charlie crazy-glued my phone!' 'How long do you usually make people your bitch?' 'Depends.'") Now that's fine dining, friends.

My high school math teacher once told me that the world is divided into algebra people and geometry people. I'm an algebra girl - does this really surprise anyone? I like predictability and routine. I don't want control - I DON'T WANT CONTROL - I just want to know what's going to happen next. Apparently my baby didn't get the memo. I keep trying to figure him out, but just about the time I think I know what's going on, it all changes. I've started calling him my little enigma. Then again, he's a little person, and since when has ANYone really been predictable?

Ann Striplin, wherever you are, you gave good advice to a group of high school girls a long time ago. You were quoted twice in one conversation recently. "When I was 19, I had all the answers. When I was 30, I had all of the questions." Me too.

The best part about scraping by for a while is that every abundance is appreciated. The worst part is that every time I see consumable product - clothes, food, gifts, whatever - I think of the price tag. It's a bad habit, and if you catch me talking about how much something costs, STOP ME. I don't want to see the world in dollar signs anymore.

Amen and the end.

in the news

* We had 12 tornadoes in rural southern Alabama yesterday. Asher and I spent all day flipping between the Back to the Future marathon and the weather. Montgomery really didn't have much bad weather, though. For us, it was a day of false alarms.

* Barak Obama, Hillary Clinton, Bill Clinton, and Jesse Jackson are going to be in Selma on Sunday. I want want want to go, but Sunday is the busiest day in the Gates home, and this one is no exception. Once again, I am aware of how much more the rest of the country honors the leaders of the Civil Rights movement. The Civil Rights movement is one of the most American moments in Alabama history, but all attempts to honor it are mostly ignored. Jesus told us a prophet has no honor in his hometown. He was right.

I knew it.

My baby is a genius.

Basically, in the morning, his life is more or less always the same. Wake up, eat, play for a little while, sleep, repeat. Sometimes when he wakes up, we may be in a different place (one of the GREAT GRAND benefits of using his carseat as a bed), but that doesn't affect what he does very much. Afternoons are different. Some days we walk, some days we run errands, some days he's with his grandma, etc.

The result? In the mornings, he'll take a nap on his own with no problem. He doesn't even complain about being put down. He chews his Geoff and drifts off to sleep (it's really the cutest thing ever, but that's beside the point). But afternoons - he'll fall sleep, then wake up crying. I'll pick him, he'll fall asleep on me. If I put him down, he wakes up crying. In other words, he's learned that in the mornings, it's too bad so sad, he's got to sleep on his own. But in the afternoons, I am a viable sleeping option (and every baby knows nothing sleeps like a mom).

You understand that he's just two months old, right? Just barely two months old, really. That he knows when he can do one thing, and when he can do another, is amazing to me. I always knew he was a genius.

In general, sleep is no longer much of an issue. I think Geoff is doing his job in helping Asher calm himself. Unless it's midafternoon, in which case he's come to rely on me for that.

By the way, anyone out there know much about growth spurts? I have a few questions. Are outrageous diapers a part of it, or is that something different? How long do growth spurts usually last?