Prophets, Baked Beans, and Pulled Pork

Happy Memorial Day a little late! Monday, Clark and I went to a barbecue at the home of one of his co-workers. That would be normal enough, but you need to know that Clark and I were the only non-Mormons in the whole bunch. The ONLY non-Mormons. I love meeting new people, Clark can be a social butterfly when he chooses to be, and Emma is always up for a party, so this little LDS detail put an interesting spin on things. Clark and I came away from the barbecue feeling like the Baptist church has much to learn from the Mormons. They go to a certain church based on where they live, so there is no church-hopping or leaving because you don't like the music. They spend TONS of time together in and out of church, so this barbecue felt more like a regular family get together. Most of the couples had at least one baby, but everyone took care of everyone elses children, like really loved aunts and uncles. There were no observable cliques, everyone seemed to get along, and everyone seemed to really enjoy being together. I was thinking what a benefit this is to their kids. Not only do they have all these kind, loving adults to mentor them, but they are safe among children who have shared beliefs. During their most formidable years, they are pretty well sheltered and surrounded by people who will train them up in their faith. If we as Baptists were this dedicated to spending quality time with one another, with raising our children up in our faith together, with being a body of believers versus church-hopping individuals, imagine the effect we could have on our communities for Christ. I was impressed by these Mormons. And the pulled pork was fantastic.

Psalm 46:10

Every time I put Emma down for her nap, I am reminded of this verse. She fights sleep even as her eyes are rolling back in her head. I, being her mother, know that the best thing for her to do would be close her eyes, stop her kicking, and just relax into my arms. She can fall asleep peacefully knowing that I love her, and when she wakes up, I'll be there to provide for her. "Be still, and know that I am Mommy..."

Could God give me a clearer message???

Just as I want Emma to give in and trust me, He, my Heavenly Father, wants me to lean fully into His strong arms and relax. He knows what I need when I don't have a clue. He holds on tightly and lovingly while I kick and fuss, refusing to bend my will to fit His. Ultimately He wins, and undoubtedly it is what's best for me. Why not just crawl into His open arms, "stop striving", and know that He is God? Rest and relaxation at its finest...



"Be still (NAS: Cease striving), and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth." Psalm 46:10

c/o: Mothers

Today we went to a playdate at a friend's house. Emma spit up on her burp rag and on the table. I didn't realize how much she had spit up on the burp rag, so in my efforts to clean the table, I continued to multiply the spit up. It was gross! Sorry Jenny!!!

I have permission from Clark to tell this next tid-bit. Last night Emma decided she was hungry. When Emma decides something, there is no changing her mind or putting her off for a little bit. She wanted food, and she wanted it immediately. SO-- with her on my hip, I am semi-hurriedly making a bottle and mixing rice cereal in a baby bowl, getting her Bumbo ready for use, etc. In walks Clark. I guess he sees me doing all the things I'm doing (?), but he is busy preparing his workout clothes and gymbag for the morning. I somehow got baby, bottle, bowl, and Bumbo to the table and began successfully feeding Emma when Clark asked me if he had clean jeans. I told him that his jeans were indeed clean but in a mountain of clean clothes on our bed, so if he wanted them to be wrinkle free, he probably needed to go get them and fold them. OR, I said, "Do you want to feed Emma, and I'll go fold your jeans (and all your other clothes)???" He said, "I'll take care of myself, thank you." OR I guess it could have been "I'll take care of myself. Thank you." EITHER WAY--- It struck me as really ironic that while I had rice cereal in my eyelashes he was going to take care of himself. I guess I should have been thankful that it was one less person to take care of, but I selfishly though, "WOW! What's that like-- taking care of just yourself????" I've often wondered what would happen if I just handed him Emma and said, "I'm going to run to ______. Love you!" Tee-hee.... Panic!!!! That's what would happen! He does hang out with Emma while I run errands, and he is great with her! But I guess it's kind of like in Indian families: the daddy could leave to go hunting at any time, but mommy has the baby strapped to her. Being a mommy sure does make you realize all the things your mom did that you took for granted, how she was always the last one to go to sleep, or how your clothes always magically made it from the washer to the dryer, or how she never lost your record of vaccinations even though it's just a flimsy piece of paper! Motherhood is such a selfless business. I'm glad that you are allowed to learn by watching wonderful examples (thank you, Momma) and through a bit of trial and error. Happy Friday, everyone!

Grandma Jane, Paw Paw, and Emma

One of my favorite pictures of all time: Emma is in my PawPaw's arms looking up and belly laughing at Grandma Jane. What a blessing to be able to see my daughter in the arms that held me so many time! I am so privileged to have these amazing grandparents!

Beginnings of blogging

Last Friday, Emma turned 5 months. In the five months since she has been born, I have had my husbands law school graduation, Mastitis, Christmas, New Year's, the Bar exam, a UTI, a bladder infection, kidney stones, insomnia, Easter, and post partum depression. Pregnancy, labor and delivery were walks in the park compared to post partum. I am so thankful that Emma is an incredibly good baby.

I was put on Lunesta and Prozac, which have just started kicking in. At first, I was so sleepy on the Prozac that in order to stay awake I had to keep moving. My house is probably the cleanest it's been in a long time- completely mopped and disinfected.

Saturday, I noticed some sand fleas by our back door. As the afternoon progressed, it turned into a sand flea invasion. When your house is as clean as mine was, it feels like a personal violation to have little bugs coming in from your backyard. Of course one found it's way into Emma's diaper and feasted on her tender cheeks. I felt like an awful mother even though I have no control over nature. I went in the kitchen and was slapping fleas as they entered. I considered whether or not I was actually psychotic as I killed fleas with the palm of my hand. What if the fleas were a figment of my imagination? "Oh well...", I thought. "The guy in A Beautiful Mind was crazy yet genius. Maybe I'm loopy, but I can still function." Clark went to Lowe's to buy poison to spread and spray. I put Emma in her swing for a nap, baked a Totino's pizza, opened my reserve of french onion dip and dug in. As I scooped a chip full of delicious dip, I considered my emotional eating frenzy and realized I needed to start blogging. An outlet for the craziness, a place where others can laugh at the unbelievable yet ordinary events of my day, may be essential for my survival. Okay, maybe not survival, but essential at least for the prospect of having more children. SO read my posts, ignore my horrible spelling, and laugh at my stories. I promise honesty with little embelishment. Real life is so good it rarely needs editing!