Dear Blog,
I am so very proud of you about so many things. You are such a joy to me and your Daddy. We love playing with you, comforting you when you’re sad or hurt, giggling and acting silly with you, and we adore watching you grow and learn. You are truly, without a doubt, the best thing that has ever happened to us.
But.
5am is not an acceptable wake-up time. Maybe once in awhile, like if we’re getting up early to go to the beach or Disney World. But on regular days, it just won’t do. I must insist at the very least that you extend your sleeping time until Daddy’s alarm clock goes off at 6:00. You were doing this for a few days, but 5:00 has suddenly become your hour of choice. Please don’t get me wrong - I am thrilled that you go to sleep at 7pm most nights without a fuss and sleep through the night. This is incredible, and please - don’t stop. But, baby, I am begging you - sleep until 6am.
Also, I’d like to ask that you talk to your friend Mr. Bird and ask him to kindly adopt a similar sleeping schedule and avoid 5am wake-up times. I know you two have a lot to chat about, and since there is no tree outside YOUR window, Mr. Bird feels compelled to camp outside MY window and twitter and tweet as loudly as possible so you can hear him. But, again, this just won’t do. I would gladly plant a tree outside your window so you and Mr. Bird could socialize at ungodly hours every morning, but sadly our HOA won’t let me. So could you please talk to him? I would appreciate it. You should also know that, if Mr. Bird suddenly stops showing up in the morning, Mommy has no idea what happened to him. He probably just packed up and moved South (or North, or to some other poor, sleep-deprived mom’s bedroom window). Or maybe he went to take a nap with the fishes, since he's been getting up so early every morning and probably needs a nap.
I would appreciate it if you would take these requests under consideration. I know you have a busy agenda and need to start early every morning in order to squeeze everything in, but an extra hour or two of sleep never hurt anyone. Just consider it.
With never-waning affection,
your sleepy and slightly exasperated Mom
P.S. Pleeeease nap!
At the top of the list of “What Fox Wants for Dinner?” Goldfish. Lots and lots of goldfish. He wasn’t a bit interested in finger foods until we went to a playdate where the little boy of the house was eating goldfish. Now, all of a sudden, Fox can’t get enough of them. Literally. Heaven help me if I leave the house without remembering to pack a baggie of goldfish.
Since I can’t nourish my son exclusively with little fish-shaped cheese crackers, we are trying to branch out. Currently the list of foods that sometimes get swallowed (and about equally as often end up stuck to the back of his britches) includes:
Spaghetti-o’s
Cheerios
Avocados (okay, so apparently foods that end in “-o” are a hit)
Whole wheat toast with 100% fruit blueberry jam
Ravioli pieces
Lasagna
Yogurt
Shredded cheese
Bananas (sometimes)
Whole, peeled apples (he likes to suck on them)
Ice cream (so sue me)
Things that are currently on the “icky” list are:
Dark chocolate (hey, he begged for a piece!)
Cottage cheese
Everything else not on the list above
So, little by little, day by day, Fox is learning to eat like a grown-up. He loves to drink apple juice from his sippy cup. He is still hesitant about the whole silverware thing. Most days he still throws a fit if I try to introduce new foods. But we’re getting there.
Thank you, goldfish. Thank you.
I get anxious at night. Fearful. I don’t know why. Sometimes it’s worse than others, and thankfully, lately, it hasn’t been too bad. But for as long as I can remember, nighttime anxiety and fear have been common for me. I have some thoughts about why this happens:
1) I was afraid of the dark and afraid of sleeping alone in my room until I was 12. Yes, I know that’s pretty old to still be wanting to crawl into bed with Mom and Dad. But that’s the way it was. And, if I’m honest, I’m still afraid of sleeping alone. In nearly 5 years of marriage, Michael and I have never slept apart from each other except for nights during this first year of Fox’s life where I would sleep in the nursery with him. During that time I was also dealing with some mild postpartum depression that would give me a feeling of ominous dread when the sun would begin to set.
2) I have historically had nasty nightmares. I have no idea where all these horrible dreams spring up from, but they have often made me lie awake for hours feeling frightened and uneasy and praying desperately to forget them. They were worse when I was pregnant (probably latent fears about Fox’s safety - and my own - juiced up by hormones), and they’ve eased up lately, but every once in awhile I still wake up from a doozy.
3) I used to love horror movies. I really have no idea what was wrong with me. Now the thought of watching something scary gives me the heebie jeebies, but I used to relish them. Unfortunately for me, while I typically forget most plot details after a year and can watch a movie again like it’s brand new, I have an eerily good memory for the disturbing images I’ve soaked up over the years. Which means sometimes they pop into my head unbidden when I am trying desperately to go to sleep. Which brings me to....
4) I have suffered from insomnia off and on as long as I can remember. I can’t seem to quiet my mind at night in order to relax and drift off to sleep, which gives me time to think about all sorts of unpleasant things. This problem is exacerbated by point number 3 above, and sometimes I find myself squeezing my eyes shut and begging God to give me comfort and peace and to keep evil thoughts at bay.
So, as you can see, I have issues. But my purpose in writing this really isn’t to highlight those issues. What I want to focus on is the only thing that can bring me relief. I mentioned several times above how I find myself praying desperately for God’s comfort during my fearful times. He is certainly faithful to calm my fears, though sometimes not immediately. And over the years He has provided me with tools to help me, which brings me to the thing that inspired me to write this post in the first place. Several years ago, Fernando Ortega came to perform at BGEA, and he sang a song off an upcoming album that was incredibly moving to me. I find myself singing this song to myself nearly every night as I go to sleep, and I also sing it to Fox each night as I’m giving him his bedtime bottle. The song just captures the essence of what my heart is crying out to God when I’m afraid, and it also comforts me by reminding me of His care for His children. Finally, it also serves as the perfect prayer. I wanted to share this song with you, so you might find comfort when you need it as well. Here are the lyrics, as well as a recording of the song (thanks, Youtube).
Jesus, King of Angels, Heaven’s light,
shine your face upon this house tonight.
Let no evil come into my dreams;
Light of Heaven, keep me in your peace.
Remind me how you made dark spirits flee,
and spoke your power to the raging sea,
and spoke your mercy to a sinful man -
remind me, Jesus, this is what I am.
The universe is vast beyond the stars,
but you are mindful when a sparrow falls
and mindful of the anxious thoughts
that find me, surround me, and bind me.
With all my heart I love you, Sovereign Lord.
Tomorrow let me love you even more,
and rise to speak the goodness of your name
until I close my eyes and sleep again.
The universe is vast beyond the stars,
but you are mindful when a sparrow falls,
and mindful of the anxious thoughts
that find me, surround me, and bind me.
Jesus, King of Angels, Heaven’s light,
hold my hand and keep me through this night.
obligatory Easter picture
at the park with Daddy on Easter SundayYesterday after we got back from the store, I decided it was crucial to wash the pollen off the car. So I strapped Fox into the mei tai and helped myself to my next-door neighbor’s hose. Since my neighbor clearly never uses his hose, I assumed this would be fine. And it would have been. Except I found out very quickly why my neighbor never uses his hose: it leaks (badly) and was so tangled that I could barely get enough length to reach the car. So here I was, with my wiggly and impatient son strapped to my chest, fighting to get this leaky, dirty hose out of its container and over to my car. I finally got the nozzle within reach of the van, and I found some innovative ways to get every side washed. I was horrified by how much green gunk washed off the car and down the road toward the storm drain. Yuck. That’s what I’m breathing in every time I step outside! Anyway, though, after washing the car (and inadvertently washing myself and Fox too), I had to lug the hose back to my porch and fight to reel it back into its container. The aforementioned leak only got worse, and every time I would turn the crank, the hose would spray water into my face. And the crank kept getting stuck. So I finally had to put Fox in his stroller and huff and puff and fight with the hose. I finally won, but I was soaking wet and covered in dirt and grime from the hose brushing against my legs as I reeled it in. Note to self: wait til Michael gets home before trying this again.
One last thing to note: This morning, while I was cooking breakfast, Fox was playing happily on the floor near the back door. Michael glanced down at him and asked, “What’s that in your hand, Fox?” He had to look closer, because he thought it looked like the object in his hand was wiggling. And it was. Somehow, Fox had picked up (IN MY KITCHEN!) a wiggly, slimy earthworm. I squealed something along the lines of “ohmygoshquickgetitoutofhishandNOWbeforeheeatsit!” and Michael swooped in with a paper towel to rescue Fox from the earthworm. Thankfully, he didn’t try to eat it, and he didn’t seem terribly sad to see it go. Unfortunately, this is not the first worm I have found in my house this spring. I found a dead earthworm near the pantry the other day, and I have found several dead milipedes in the downstairs bathroom. So now, on top of the tiny little beetle-things that have been invading my kitchen, we apparently have worms coming in. Remind me to move. Ick.