a blatantly mommy post. sorry guys.

I was thinking today about how one of our basic functions as parents is to teach our children how to - everything. Act, react, eat, live. Some skills require more teaching than others, of course, but we do a lot of teaching in daily life. I've also become aware recently that my teaching method is very heavily influenced by behaviorism. Which is funny, because I would never have labeled myself a behaviorist. I still don't think I am a purist, but when you're talking about the acquisition of skills, behavior modification is what I use.

So here's my challenge (by the way, I'm about 40% as neurotic as I used to be about All Things Asher. So this is a challenge, but not life altering, as it would have been four months ago): For his morning nap and his bedtime, we go through our routine, I put him down awake, he goes to sleep with basically no complaints. It's the afternoon nap that he simply will not take until he collapses from exhaustion. I am trying very hard to incorporate Asher into my life a little more, and not have the entire day revolve around his schedule. But today, for example, he was too tired to take into public. Yawning, fussy, rubbing his eyes - the works. So we ran our errand quickly, then came home so that he could go to sleep. He's now been in his bed an hour and fifteen minutes - not crying, but not asleep. What's that about?

I know how to teach him not to cry as he goes to bed. But I have no tricks up my sleeve for actually getting him to go to sleep.

PS - An update on naptimes: I still don't have any secret for getting a baby to nap, but I have figured out that morning naps need to be earlier than they had been lately. Also, I can't wait too long after he starts acting sleepy. There's a point of no return, to be sure.

a quick thought on fruitfulness

The good news: It doesn't take as much energy to get through the day as it used to.
The bad news: That means I'm spending less time in front of the computer and more time busy with life, so I'm not blogging as much.

I've become aware - more aware, I guess, because I'm about to state the obvious - that my peers and I are in the midst of The Reproductive Years. This season is all about fruitfulness. Through babies or advanced degrees (or both), in establishing a career, in building a home, in building a life. We're all busy creating something.

What a blessing.

Happy Sunday, everyone.

Catherine wrote a great post on intimacy today. Read it at catherinemcniel.blogspot.com.

ever tried to take a picture of three babies? it goes something like this.

Nobody's smiling. Let's try again.



Oops - someone's making a break for it.



Close enough.

segue

1. I learned something about myself this weekend. Carrie is allowed to move (I suppose). My other two in-town friends are allowed to visit families or The Holy Land, if they so desire. My internet is even allowed to go out. But these things are not allowed to happen simultaneously. When they do, I begin staring at the ceiling fan and contemplating the twirliness of the universe until all is madness. Just so you know. (By the way, we aren't going to talk about how the internet was out because I unscrewed the cable - in another room! leading from a place we don't need a cable! - that leads out of the house. I had forgotten that old houses resemble Alice in Wonderland that way).

But the cable has been fixed, which is to say it's been screwed back into the wall, my friends are back in town, I spoke to Carrie today, and now all is right with the world.

2. (How happy are we that all is right with the world again?)

3. I learned something interesting today. Did you know when you write by hand you are more emotionally connected to what you are saying than when you type it? Something about the right brain being involved in handwriting, while the left brain is involved in typing. Fascinating.

4. Kim, a friend who has been mentioned before, but has not had a link on the sidebar until now, posted her interview today. Go read it, if you will. I have a few more questions to send out, but now that my internet is back, I'll get on that soon.

5. Friday Night Lights, everyone? The Tim Riggins and Jesus storyline is SO interesting. I'm really impressed with how they are portraying Bible Belt Christianity. They aren't exaggerating. But the murder is over-the-top for me; I really hope this doesn't end with Landry in prison.

6. Asher has a new favorite toy, a blue teddy bear that's almost exactly the same size as Asher. He likes to talk to him in the car. Brian felt that a fluffy blue bear wearing a ribbon bow-tie needed a way to assert his masculinity, so he named him Smash. As in Smash Williams, running back for the Dillon Panthers.

7. I had no idea when I started I had seven things to say. Last one: my church is working on policies/procedures to protect our children. Is anyone in this proverbial room surprised that I'm on the steering committee? Last week, in the late service, we had 88 adults and 60 children present. I take the responsibility of a church to its children very seriously; this is one committee that I was glad to join.

8. Wait, one more and then I really am done. Asher is the world's best eater. He eats (unseasoned, mind you) salmon, broccoli, grapes, lemons, anything. I swear sometimes he would continue to take bites as long as I continued to put them in his mouth. Today he had (homemade, by Brian's Aunt Betty) beef and noodles, half a banana, and (wait for it) a glass of milk for lunch. Milk! We're moving away from formula. The baby stage is ending too fast for me.

on identity

I have entered the stage in my life where I am almost completely defined by my relationship to someone else. When I had a salaried job, I was an early interventionist (a title that describes my skills and interests). For a while I was a student (again, a title describing my interests, at least to some degree). And though you are never really defined by what you do, it gives people a starting point in conversation, at least. Now I'm Asher's mom. Or Brian's wife. Or even J's teacher, which I am two mornings a week. But I am not a teacher with a caseload, I'm just J's teacher. I'm still viewed in reference to another person. Do you see what I mean?

Granny had her 80th birthday party today. There were probably forty people there. I kept looking around and wondering, what is it like, to see ALL of these people, and know they are all your bloodline? That if you had never met your husband, this entire party would not exist? What is that like?

And is it any wonder family spats can be so silly? When you are defined only by your relationships to others, and not by any skills or passions or independent thought, the minutia of those relationships becomes inordinately important. Don't misunderstand me; I don't want to add any new identities to my life right now. It's just odd, is all, to be seen as only a caregiver.

As an aside - I was the only at-home mom in the group today (to my knowledge). A new experience for me, since I - like all of us - have surrounded myself mostly with people just like me. One of the other moms said, "I wouldn't know what to do if I stayed at home. I couldn't just sit around all day." This isn't offensive, but it is incorrect. I do a lot of things in a day, but sitting is rarely one of them.

Anyway, identity is on my mind tonight. How easy it would be to lose mine for the sake of everyone else's.

interview

I was interviewed by Emily. The deal is, I post my answers here. If you want me to interview you, leave a note in the comments or email me, and I'll send you some questions for you to answer on your blog.

1). You always strike me as very non-judgemental. What is one thing you find yourself judging others on?
I used to be pretty critical of parents whose children were out of control, but I now see that the whole temperament business is legitimate.
I have no empathy for people who are not motivated by love for their children. I just don't get them. At all.

2). What is one thing that makes you angry, in spite of yourself?
Recently I have become aware of how dependent I am on having a sense of order, and how badly I respond when my routine is interrupted. I am almost always irritated when Brian stops to talk to a neighbor on the street (I never stop, because I'm WALKING, not talking, right now, thanks). Or when the sales lady at the shoe department pressures me into making decisions about arch and ankle supports. I didn't come to the store to make decisions! I came to buy something cute! So, yeah, disruption brings out the worst in me. PS I hate surprise parties, too. I don't mind parties, just don't surprise me, ok?

3) What are five words you hope your child never learns and why?
There are about 1,005 words I would like for Asher to never learn, but unfortunately, I don't have that kind of power in his life indefinitely. How about five words I'd like for him to never experience? I'm sure you can guess what they are.

Hatred - It would grieve me to know that he was applying his passion and desire and energy toward the destruction of another person, regardless of the circumstances.
Complacency - Brian and I often tell one another that we'd rather fall flat on our faces that trip trying to back up. Which is to say - Brian and I are both passionate people, and it would be disconcerting to both of us to raise children who aren't stirred up by things.
Rejection - of course this one will eventually happen. But if wishing made it so.
Unbelief - I hope he shares our faith. Ultimately it's beyond my control, but my prayer for him is that he will.
That's only four, but those are the first ones that come to mind.

4) How do you feel when meeting new people?
I really enjoy making new friends, but after several years of doing it continuously, I'm a little worn out with the process. It used to be my favorite thing, to get to know a new person. But by now, I enjoy the comfort of being around people who already know all my stories.

general malaise

I'm working on a Hump Day Hmmm post on journeys, as well as Emily's interview questions, so this is just an in-between. More interesting posts will follow in the next few days.

1. The largest cockroach EVER had the AUDACITY to climb onto my kitchen counter tonight while I was doing the dishes. The nerve. So what did I do? I walked away quietly and waited for it to die. The house has been treated, so he will die; he's already moving slowly, it's just a matter of time. He must have come in from the back door while I was bringing in our dishes from the back yard. To smash that thing on the counter would have been disgusting, and Brian wasn't home to flush him, so I left him there. Now he has climbed into our toaster oven, and Brian is threatening to make me deal with him. I hate hate hate hate roaches.

2. This week has been better than the previous several weeks have been. Yay.

3. My friend Laurie is coming to visit from Las Vegas in a few weeks. Yay for that, too.

4. Asher got new shoes last week. Two pairs - one is red leather with monkeys on the front, and the other is a pair of converse-style tennis shoes. They are adorable on him, but he's really not a fan. In his defense, as long as he's been aware of his feet, he hasn't needed shoes. Now I won't leave him alone about them. This morning, though, he won the shoe argument. I spent ten minutes (I'm not exaggerating - a literal ten minutes) putting shoes on him. As I was finishing tying the left shoe, he figured out how to kick off the right. Fine.


(an example of how cute red monkey shoes are)


(an example of how cute the baby wearing the red monkey shoes is)

on furniture, need, and lobby ladies

Shaun's lobby lady lives in my head.

We spent the day shopping for a piece of furniture. The truth is that Brian and I are basically cheap. We're not hoarding money, we just don't spend much at a time. It can be comical, it can be ridiculous, it can be rewarding. But that's just the way it is.

So we're trying to buy a piece of furniture, but part of our problem is the word "need." To say I NEED an entertainment center is false. I need food, my child needs warm clothes, I need a car. I don't NEED an entertainment center. So every price tag is eyed skeptically. I really think we found something (several things) today that other people would have bought easily. They looked nice, they were in our price range, they had all the features that we've agreed would be helpful. But we didn't buy any of them, because that's a lot of money for something you don't have to have. Eventually we will - we'll find a sale, or something secondhand, and that will be that. But today, cheap won out.

We were talking about money tonight (over dinner at a restaurant. We are cheap, but not hopelessly so). I feel like it's a highwire act, to live here, now, as a believer, knowing I will be held accountable for what I do with what I have. We were born into this economy at this moment in history. I don't feel comfortable with communes, so if I'm going to participate in this society, I'm going to have to spend some money. (See, here goes that lobby lady). Where's the balance? Entertainment centers are not inherently wrong. And what was the argument, Shaun? That God elevates some to humble others? Then who humbles the elevated? I can justify myself, to be sure. With my furniture and high speed internet and 10$ per lb coffee (because that is labeled a "need" in our home).

In the end, it was our friends in Kansas City who have taught us the most useful lessons on money. Todd believes in buying well, giving freely, and being thankful. He's right. God is our provider. Now that I've experienced his provision, I can't worry about money with a straight face anymore. Neither can I hold on to what I have with too tight a fist.

The Proverbs say, "Give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread. Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you, and say, 'Who is the Lord?' Or I may become poor and steal, and so dishonor the name of my God." This has been true in our lives. We always seem to have just enough - never much excess, but always enough. Furniture and coffee notwithstanding.

progress

Not finished, but better.




Have I mentioned lately that Taylor is the coolest kid in our house?

thoughts on comfort

Lately I've been thinking about comfort.

Asher has reached the age where he responds differently to me than to other people. Anyone who is around him for any length of time comments on how good he is, how he hardly ever cries. It's true. The kid is like Mary Poppins (practically perfect in every way), and I'm not just saying that because I'm his mom. In public, at his grandmother's, at a restaurant, he is always happy. Until we get home. It's like he's been saving it up, waiting until we were alone to tell me how tired he is, how hungry, how overstimulated. Tonight he cried all the way through his bath, changing his clothes, making his bottle. He had smiled for everyone else all day long, and now he was done.

I don't mind. I'm his mom, and he's at home, and this is what home is. It's where you get to be held or rocked when you need it. You don't have to smile at home, you don't have to do or be anything. Everyone needs one place in the world where they can cry when they're tired. Asher's is here, with us, at home.

Comfort. Synonymous with love, really.

A friend told me this week that I needed to spend some time in the woods. I think she's right. The woods have always been a comfort to me. Our house isn't, not for me, not yet, with the spare room full of boxes and no pictures on the walls. But, as Asher reminded me tonight, comfort isn't really in a place. It's in the people who love you. There's nothing profound about what I'm saying, I know, but it's what has been on my mind lately. Comfort, the word and the feeling and the people who create it.

I've been hearing this week about a brother of a friend. He's a sick boy - almost a man, but when you're sick, it doesn't matter - in the hospital without a mom. I think of my parents, how lucky I was, how utterly comfortable our home was. And I think of Asher, crying to be held, crying because he's tired and home, and he finally can. I think of Emily's story, a girl without a mom, always larger than the life she was living. About Elizabeth, alone in a new place, unable to comfort others back home.

I wish you all comfort tonight.

Remember my idea last year, about having a missionary come and serve my family for a while? A personal assistant type ... work off a DUI, or serve out of your convictions, I'm not picky. I could use another set of hands around here. Because there are still rooms in my house that look like this:



Shocking, I know. But I've done everything that I can during naps. What's left now is to get in the attic (too loud for naptime), make multiple trips to the shed (which feels like a job for Brian, though I know I'm being sexist for thinking that way. Reader understand that Brian has worked and WORKED on this house. He just hasn't gotten around to that particular task), and assign a home to Asher's toys (which obviously can't be done during naps). So here I sit.

There are important things going on right now, but none of them are bloggable. Some of it isn't mine to tell, and what is mine isn't processed enough to write about it yet. So instead I'll post some pictures. We'll call this set "In Transition." True in life as well.



The fun and exciting new couch - my first piece of Big Girl furniture. Well, I guess I've bought a book shelf and a desk (says something about priorities, maybe?) but this is the first piece of furniture we've picked out that anyone else will notice or care about. My mom, sister, and I went shopping in a SHED in Bullock County, where - I KID YOU NOT - I had to pee behind an ancient Winnebego, because they had no bathroom. But nobody's complaining, because they sell nice furniture for about half of what you'd pay in town.

However, this is the current arrangement of our living room:



The blue chair will eventually live in the sun room, because it's entirely too comfortable and has all of my baby-rocking memories attached to it. For now, though, we have our own version of the chair from Frasier. We'll add some duct tape for effect. And the old couch will live in our guest room until we have a guest bed, when it will be passed on to someone else who needs a couch.

And this is my favorite picture:


We were trying to get Asher to wave bye to the apartment, but instead he got all bashful and cute.

What has your week been like?

10-7-07

In honor of a quiet hour on a Sunday afternoon, this is what's on my mind today.

1. I got the bathroom unpacked by not interceding when Asher discovered, um, paper products only found in a woman's bathroom. I know, I KNOW, it was so wrong of me. But it's nontoxic, and he was content long enough for me to unpack at least two boxes, and, well, I promise not to bring this story up when he's fourteen.

2. I have a dilemma. Not a real dilemma, compared to Myanmar or Darfur. A pretend, middle-class American dilemma. My mom wants to buy us a new couch. Which is SO NICE, and SO FUN, except that all of my other living room furniture is second-hand, and you can't make a silk purse out of sows' ears. Any thoughts on mixing new and old stuff in a way that doesn't look silly? I'd love to hear them.

3. Is everybody following Georgia's Mom's trip through Israel? Is anyone else surprised that you can blog from the Sea of Galilee?

4. With all that is happening in my own little world, it would be easy to miss something important that happens this week. Carrie is moving. Carrie, who has prayed with me every week (more or less) since we came back to Alabama. We all have friends who like us, but if you're lucky, you find friends who GET you, too. Carrie and I GET each other. And even though I am convinced this move will be great for her family, I am really sad that she won't be close by anymore. With any luck, some day Carrie and I will live in the same town again. Maybe Asher and Kaylan will fall in love and get married and have babies that look just like Melinda (Carrie's sister - because all of HER babies do, oddly) ... since Georgia is practically a cousin, anyway.

in honor of my favorite person on his birthday

I am posting pictures of some of his favorite things.

i must be in the wrong lane.

I heard the most interesting article on NPR yesterday about linguistics. Of course I'm using the wrong computer for links, but if you want to listen to it, it's a book review called "A Quotable Pithy Guide to Aphorisms" at All Things Considered. Did you know it was Gandhi who said to hate the sin and love the sinner? I really hate that phrase, but it was interesting to hear its origin. And my favorite pithy phrase from the piece was, "If everything's coming your way, you're in the wrong lane." Ha.

PS It's 5:01 a.m. The No Man's Land of time - if I go back to bed, I'm going to be groggy in an hour when I need to wake up. If I stay awake, I'm going to be tired this afternoon, because I've been up since 3:30. There's really not a good option.

Ok. The kitchen is mostly unpacked (ONLY because my friend Carrie (formerly of BUF fame) spent Monday afternoon unpacking it. Even though she had in-laws in town, has a three-month old baby, and is moving herself in two weeks) and the common areas are put together. Both bedrooms are functional, though not exactly unpacked. Let the organization begin!

I will post pictures soon.

Georgia's Mom leaves for Israel today. She's going to be blogging about the experience at www.georgiaandsawyer.blogspot.com.

Since you have been so patient to read through MOVING (which is miserable enough to do, and probably seriously boring to read about), here's a few of my favorite pictures from the weekend.



(I think I've mentioned before that Asher doesn't like the vaccuum? Which means - he will grant permission to run the vaccuum, but only if he is held while the machine is on. I usually put him on my hip and vaccuum one-handed, but to each his own).



(We had a picnic while Mikkee was in town. I expected him to try to get the Chiquita sticker off his nose, but instead it made him laugh).

genetically superior fleas, that's what we have

With any luck, one day soon I will rise above the banality and talk about more interesting things. But today is not that day.

Fleas, friends. As if I have nothing else to do this week - what, with the moving and the roving baby and upcoming birthdays and various other deadlines - Taylor has fleas. Again. He had them two weeks ago, and we treated them as though we were scouring the PLAGUE from our home. He took oral medicine, he was bathed, he was brushed, he was treated with ridiculously expensive medicine (that we have always used on him - fleas weren't supposed to even be possible, in my mind, for as much as we spend on preventatives). It's supposed to last a month. So how in the name of all that is holy did he get them yesterday in the backyard?

I believe the fleas are winning.

May your day be merry and bright. And may your pets be spared of genetically superior fleas.