Thank you and pictures

First of all, a huge thank you to everyone who commented on my last post. You guys really are all wonderful friends, and I'm so grateful for your encouragement and your honesty.

Second of all, it did occur to me last night as I stumbled through the dark to help Joy sip some water to soothe her poor raw throat, then picked Gracie up on my way back through to our bedroom to feed her, that I haven't had an unbroken night of sleep for about nine months, since my babies like to keep me up both before and after they are born. Which could explain a great deal of the weariness, mental, emotional, and physical, that I feel.

Third, to brighten the gloominess outside, and because I have to go take a shower in just a couple minutes while the girls are both napping (or one is napping and the other is trying my patience) so don't have time for a "real" post, I give you ...

Random Pictures:

Looking at this picture, I think I can definitely say that tunics and leggings are out until my hips and upper thighs slim down slightly. Love the idea, but I think I'll wait until I lose those last ten pounds of baby weight.

Joy does not like real naps (which is why she's upstairs wailing after having been put back in bed for the fifth time in an hour), but she loves to stretch out anywhere and everywhere and pretend to nap.

Joy was not reading aloud, but Gracie was still glued to the action!

Happiest baby ever. She is such a sweetheart!

I turned the couch into a sickbed for Joy this week. She didn't nap any better downstairs than in her own bed, but at least the stuffed animals made it comfy and cozy for her.

Lovin' on Gracie. My favorite part of this picture, aside from the adorably squeezable baby in my arms, is that in the background you can see the picture of Joy's feet (taken by Jo) when she was a baby in a frame with the poem I wrote to go with it. 

Happy Friday, everyone--have a wonderful, encouraging, guilt-free weekend!

Long long, really long post on guilt

I have been struggling--really, really struggling--with discouragement lately. It seems like I say this a lot. Why do I get so discouraged so easily and so often? Why does it seem like frustration is always simmering just below the surface? John Reisinger, a preacher whose words and life have greatly shaped my thinking, once used the illustration of a cup filled with lemonade, painted on the outside to look like it is filled with milk. He said, as long as the cup is steady, you think it is milk. As soon as it is joggled, however, the lemonade spills out and you see what is really inside of it.

That's how I feel. As long as life is going fairly smoothly, I am able to give the impression (even to myself!) of someone who is joyful and content and really really spiritual. As soon as life starts to jostle me, though, all that frustration and discouragement that I don't even realize is lurking rises up and spills over.

And guilt. Sometimes I think half my other issues are all tied to guilt. You wouldn't think that someone who calls herself a "child of grace" would struggle with guilt, would you? I mean, doesn't grace mean that we don't need to bear guilt any longer, because Christ's blood has washed our sins away and made us pure before God?

I have been thinking about this for a while, and I've come up with two reasons for why I feel guilty most of the time.

I have always been a people-pleaser. Ever since I was a little kid I felt very strongly that it was my job to make others happy. In my family, I bear the role of peacemaker and confidante--the one who listens to everyone's problems and then tries to help either fix them or at least bear them better. I usually performed that role for my friends, too, although not as consistently as with my family.

One of the main problems with being a people-pleaser, though, is that when people around you aren't happy, you feel guilty, like it's somehow your fault. Especially when they aren't happy because of you, or their unhappiness with life in general in directed toward you (yes Carl, that last one was for you). And then that guilt builds, because human beings can't make others happy all the time, not only is it not possible, it's not even our function, and it turns into discouragement. Like what's the point in even trying to do anything, people are just going to be miserable at me anyway.

Which leads me to my second reason for guilt: though God may have forgiven me in Christ, people in general, it seems, are a mite pickier. I haven't had much grace shown toward me by others for the last several years, and because it's my blog and my place to vent and I think it might help me if I actually get some of this stuff written out, I'm going to list some of those ways now. And I'm Not Going To Feel Guilty About It. (Ha)

When Carl and I started dating seriously, and when we got engaged, only two people out of my friends and family were supportive. Two. Dad and Ethan. Mom and Lis were disapproving, and every one of my friends (except the ones who weren't around and we only stayed in touch through email) got mad because I wasn't as available for them. They had no idea of the agony I went through, trying to balance work, school, family, friends, and boyfriend/fiance. I nearly gave myself a nervous breakdown--I did go into hysterics one night--trying to make everyone happy, and nobody was willing to give me one inch of grace or understanding. If it hadn't been for Dad and Ethan, I might very well have gotten into my car one day and just driven off until it broke down. Which might only have taken me as far as the next town, the way my car ran, but so many days I just wanted to disappear.

Then there's church. Oh church, how we fail our members. Shall I recount the church that kicked my family out when I was twelve because we didn't fall in with their traditions? Or the one that pushed us out when I was a teenager because we were too reformed? Or the home fellowship that fell down around our ears because of abuse of leadership? Or the churches, after Carl and I were married, that ignored us because we didn't fit the mold? (Apparently, if the man doesn't talk about football and the woman doesn't wear high heels and have perfect makeup and hair, and most especially if they're at all egalitarian, they're misfits.) Yes, let us be loving to the sinners, the dregs of society, but sorry, we have no place for believers who aren't like us. You're not good enough.

(For the record, we are actually part of a really great church at the moment. Even if I can only attend on random Sundays when Gracie is up for it.)

Then comes the whole parenting thing, and I think most people would agree that other parents are some of the most judgmental people in the world. You let your child sleep with you occasionally? She's never going to be independent and well-adjusted. You expect your child to spend most nights in her crib or bed? You're heartless and cruel. You feed your baby when she fusses? You're letting her treat you as a human pacifier. You let her cry herself to sleep sometimes? BAD MOTHER! You let her watch skating on television sometimes? Your kid is going to have ADD. You don't let them watch movies or cartoons? They're going to be social outcasts!

And on and on it goes. And with every judgmental comment, with every disapproving stare, the guilt pounds down, wearing away at my heart, until I am convinced I am the biggest failure in the world. The worst wife. The worst mother. The worst friend. The worst Christian. (Oddly enough, never the worst daughter or sister, likely because aside from that miserable period when Mom and Lis were ticked off at me for getting engaged to Carl, my family has never judged me or done anything but accept me and love me as I am. Can I just say I have the best family ever? Except, of course, for those few months between Carl and I starting to date and getting married. Even then I had the best father ever.)

So it is really no wonder that I struggle with discouragment, now that I think about it. It's no wonder that most days I get so frustrated I want to give up, because what's the point in even trying?

All I can do, all I ever do, is cling to my God with both hands, my lifeline to keep me from sinking, and wait until he pulls me through to better days. The stormy seas may be battering me from every side, I may be cold and numb and a little seasick, but if I keep hold of that rope labeled Hope, I know eventually I will be pulled into harbor.

Praise and Confession

Taking a quick break here while Joy eats lunch and Gracie dozes in the swing to blog.

Today is Monday, which means it is my day to post my gratitude list. And I do have many things to thank God for--and I will jot them down here in a few moments--but first I have a confession of sorts to make.

I had initially thought that blogging on a regular basis, the same day every week, would help me focus more on remembering to thank him throughout the week. Unfortunately, what it has turned into is more of a: "Forget all about seeking to praise him for everything every day and then scramble through my memory on Mondays to try and get a decent list from the previous week." Not the joy-cultivation I've been seeking.

So I'm pulling out my little blue notebook again, and keeping it near me throughout the day, and jotting down my praises as I think of them, which will hopefully help encourage me to actively think of them, instead of passively waiting for something to hit me. (I'm a writer, I am a firm believer in active over passive!)

And I will not let myself cheat anymore--no more Monday praises on my blog unless they are copied out from my notebook, actually taken from my week. I am finding it far, far too easy to slip into discouragement these days, and I think--no, I know--that I need a determined attitude shift.

Having said that, here are my thoughts, yes, scrambled together this morning. For the last time.

• Orange flowers brightening my house, a gift of love from a friend
• Two healthy little girls
• Music-loving daughter, able to sing songs all on her own without any help (or "shing shong" as she says in her delightful toddler-speak)
• "Cuddy" (cuddly) blankets and stuffed animals
• Hot spiced cider, pumpkin scones, and conversation with a friend on a Sunday afternoon
• Beauty and power across the ice, breathtaking evidence of being fearfully and wonderfully made.
• Hot water on sore, aching muscles
• A new dress for my new look (one even Carl liked!)
• Ordering material to start teaching myself a new language--oh, excitement!
• Family time, weekends spent all together, all four of us, delighting in each others' company
• A loving Father who cradles me in his arms when I'm too tired and discouraged to "go it" on my own.

Hmmm

Yesterday, I:

• made blueberry muffins and apple cheddar bread
• colored with Joy
• played on the floor with Gracie
• washed dishes about five times
• washed diapers BEFORE they started overflowing the pail
• played ball with Joy
• studied Hosea
• read more Welsh history
• went to the park with Carl and the girls and played more with my fancy camera
• made supper
• bathed both girls
• took a shower
• cuddled with both Joy and Gracie

You know what I did not do yesterday?

Waste Spend half the day on the computer.

Yeah.

Funny how that works.

In Which I Nervously Reveal Something of My Parenting Philosophy

Joy has been decidedly un-joyful these days. In fact, right now she is up in her room, in bed with a pile of books and some stuffed animals and her cuddy (that's short for cuddly blanket, by the way), because she Would Not Stop screaming. And disobeying. And kicking. And did I mention shrieking with anger every time she doesn't get exactly what she wants the instant she wants it?

I've never believed in the terrible twos. I think if you start training a child early, you shouldn't hit one particular "stage" where all the sudden your angel child turns into a demon. And certainly Joy has shown her depravity from a very early age. The only difference is that now she's older and able to articulate more, and discovering more about her own will. In other words, we get to see more evidence of said depravity.

I'm also not a fan of simply setting hard and fast rules and spanking your child (or whatever your chosen form of discipline is) every time he or she breaks them. I (and Carl--that is assumed every time I speak of parenting) know that you can certainly get well-behaved children that way, but they don't always understand the whys behind what they do, and they don't always have a good grasp on the idea of controlling your will and subjecting your desires to what you know is good, which can result in formerly perfect children suddenly reaching high school or college or whenever they are away from their safe world where they knew all the rules, and having no idea how to control themselves, because there aren't any "rules" in the world outside.

So Carl and I prefer to work with our children on understanding and controlling their wills--teaching self-control and thoughtfulness rather than unquestioning obedience. When they do something wrong, we explain to them why it is wrong, whether it be something obvious like "if you play with the computer you could break something" or something that goes a bit deeper, like "you need to be kind to your sister because God wants us to act in a loving manner to each other, and because you want her to be kind to you, also."

And when Joy throws something because she's mad, or kicks me when I'm changing her diaper, or shrieks in my ear when I tell her we're all done listening to music right now, rather than simply punishing her for the action, I try to address the attitude that causes the action.

I firmly believe this is worthwhile. (Obviously. If I didn't, why would I be doing it?) But oh, the temptation is great to just give up and start setting house rules and establishing hard-and-fast consequences to breaking those rules: "If you do X, then Y will happen to you." It would be so much easier. And on days like today, when it seems that our slower, deeper process is not producing any results, I have to constantly guard against just giving in--sometimes without even realizing it.

So I set my teeth and send up desperate prayers for grace, and occasionally send Joy to her room "until she can control herself" and give myself a breathing space.

And I remind myself that we are no longer in the Old Covenant with the Lord, where the law was "do this or die." We are in a New Covenant of grace, where our motivation to please God is no longer fear, but love.

So I take a deep breath, and start again.

A New Day

Yesterday ended on a slightly sour note--between a new doctor at our chiropractic office who left me feeling like I'd been flattened by a steam roller (we're requesting our original doctor from here on in), screaming children with sore mouths (and possibly sore backs from a more forceful adjustment than they've ever experienced) (though I will say the adjustments were effective--no residual soreness today), a disappointing turnout for Carl at his first official night of Bible Study at church (only two people: "A 50% increase from last week!" he said in an effort to remain positive) ...

Well. It was nice to see bedtime roll around so I could finally bid goodbye to Monday.

Then this morning I was awakened by a happy baby who could barely pay attention to eating because she kept pulling off to smile at me, to smile at Papa, to smile at the walls and ceiling and bedside table ... When I brought her downstairs and put her in her swing so I could take my shower before Joy woke up, she kept beaming all around the room. When her mouth isn't hurting her and we're not cruelly forcing her to sleep even though She Does Not (*yawn*) Need (*blink blink*) To Sleep (*yawn*), she is the happiest baby I've ever seen. She's a little joy-spreader, lighting people's lives wherever she goes. I hope that trait carries with her as she grows older.

Then I got on facebook and saw that one of my very good friends headed for the hospital last night to have her baby, which hopefully means Little Girlie is here and maybe even named at last. I am grinning all over at the thought, and keep going back to facebook to check for updates by my friend's brothers. I have great sympathy for all those people who waited impatiently to read about Gracie's birth on facebook (except I at least gave my sister my password so that she could post an update for me as soon as she heard).

Then I saw that my friend Jo had posted pictures from their family vacation to Ocracoke (mymeanderings, check her blog out; it's amazing), and quick ran to get my coffee before settling in to soak in the beauty of her photography.

Truly, as the Scripture says, God's mercies are new every morning. Or, to put it another way, "Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it."

No matter what has happened yesterday, we always have the choice to make today, this day, this moment right now, good. To trust in him, to seek his face, to rejoice in his goodness to the children of men.

Thank you, Lord

My little joy-scatterer!

Glory to him

"The eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing."

This time of year, I feel half drunk with color most of the time. The sky (unless it is raining) is the most brilliant blue, and the glorious foliage stands out in sharp relief against it--the reds, the yellows, the oranges, the greens. It leaves me dizzy with appreciation and worship comes so naturally to my lips. If only I could dwell of God's beauty and majesty so easily all the time!

Just a few items from my thankful list this week ...

• warm flannel sheets and cuddling with my husband on weekend mornings.
• a shopping trip with no complaints from anyone, children or adults
• long and weighty car conversations--where Carl and I usually have our best talks!
• Sunday evening prayer time
• autumn stretching out longer than anticipated
• a clean house and happy children
• a special one-day conference for my dad, a chance to be refreshed and refueled
• friendships, old and new, internet and in person
• warm drinks, hot soup, comfort for body and soul
• sweet toothless smiles, delighted giggles
• warm body wrapped in cuddly blanket, resting on Mamma

Things have been turned upside down at church this week--Carl came home from his weekly lunch with our pastor to tell me that he--the pastor--has accepted the call to another church, and will be leaving in two months. Everyone was very sober this Sunday, and it is a good time to remind ourselves to rejoice, to trust, to thank God for all that he does, even when those things don't go as we anticipate.

Since you all agreed nobody would steal the pictures ...

Lest anyone think we favor one daughter over another, here are some recent pictures of Gracie.

(OK, really it's because I just like to post pictures of my kids.)

This picture is actually from a month or so ago, but I adore it. The hands, the feet, the dress ... most of all the expression! This kid melts hearts.

Testing out the new quilt (yes, I hand-quilted it!) with bunny

Whole-body smiles!

Just chilling with Papa and Dolly.

I love this little matroishka onesie. It was an extravagance on my part--she didn't really need any more clothes in the 3-6 month size, but I saw this one and a complementing red one with Russian stylized birds and flowers, and I had to get them for Joy and Grace. I have been trying ever since to get the girls in one picture while wearing them for a Christmas card photo--the picture I have as my header is the best I've gotten so far. Oh well! The onesies are still absolutely darling.

Pictures for fun

It's supposed to snow here today. So far, the sky is brilliant blue outside with no trace of clouds. Still. That's what they say.

So, in honor of the approaching winter, I thought I'd post some pictures from last winter. Mostly for fun, but also because I like to marvel at how much Joy has changed in a year. (And me--last winter my belly was growing bigger every day, and this winter it will hopefully be growing smaller!)

 

 

 

(Joy and Aunt Lis)

 

(Ah short hair--I do miss you)

And a question for you other bloggers--in the past I've always watermarked any pictures I've posted on my blog, but that always takes twice as long and tends to make me disinclined to do pictures. How necessary do you think watermarking is? Do you really think it likely people will steal my pictures otherwise? I certainly don't want that--but if it's not a major concern, then I won't bother with the watermarking anymore. Opinions welcome! 

Scribbles

I reluctantly pulled myself away from my studies and writing this morning to give the house a much-needed clean. I have every room but the master bedroom picked up and organized, and that one will follow once Gracie is awake (her room is right off ours and there is not much noise protection between the two). Tomorrow I'll sweep and mop, and then I can face the weekend with a clear conscience!

~

I had a highly amusing idea for a non-canon, out-of-character Narnia story today: One of Caspian's far-distant ancestors came to Narnia from Telmar as an ambassador during the Golden Age, and he and Lucy fell in love and she had his child (I TOLD you it was OOC), who went back to Telmar with his father after the Four vanished, grew up, married into the royal family of Telmar, and ... in the end, Caspian is a direct descendent of Lucy. Oh, and just to make it more interesting, he would find this out aboard Dawn Treader, after he's fallen in love with Lucy! (Non-canon too, remember? Lucy would obviously have to be older than book-Lucy.)

I'll never write it, because I cherish the Chronicles and its characters too much, but it made me giggle as I changed Joy's sheets and plotted it out, anyway.

~

I am seven chapters into my next Meg story--the one I wasn't supposed to start until I finished up my other fanfics. Ahem-hem-hem. At least I'm not posting it yet. I am very much enjoying the story as it unfolds, and I think I'll start posting once I have at least half of it written.

And I will finish my other fanfics. Someday. I tried, I really did, to work on Jane's, but quite frankly I'm bored with her. And while I'm not bored with Cass, I have to do enormous amounts of research on almost every chapter with her, and that's just too much work right now.

~

We're supposed to start getting a mix of rain and snow in the next few days. So many people are complaining that it's too early, but I seem to recall hearing these complaints every year when the first snow falls, whether it be October or November. And then, of course, if we don't have snow for Christmas, we complain. Inconsistent creatures we human beings are. Me, I'm looking forward to winter. Don't hit me! I'll be sick enough of it come February, and I love the color we still have right now on the trees, but ... I love snow. I love winter. What can I say? I'm a northern girl!

~

Speaking of winter ... the skating season starts on NBC this Sunday afternoon. I'm not sure if it's because this is an Olympic year, or if NBC is finally listening to the complaints that they don't show enough skating, but they are showing five of the Grand Prix events, plus the final, along with a decent number of shows. i'm so glad I'll be able to watch some of the international competition this year, so that come February I'll have a better idea of who is who. And I've already warned Carl not to expect much of me on Sunday afternoons during the skating season!

I think it's funny that I'm more of a sports fan than he is. I'll at least watch skating--he doesn't care about watching any sport on tv anymore. Not even watching the Red Sox beat the Yankees. :)

~

I leave you all with a picture of the cutest toddler ever:

Thoughts on Study

It is very interesting, trying to study Scripture with either a wiggly baby or a toddler who wants to "help" you turn pages (usually before you're finished reading) in your lap. Oh, and children's music playing in the background.

Yes, I have finally started my study of Hosea. No great insights yet (since I've only finished the introduction to one commentary--I have two more introductions to go before I get into the actual book). I also finished The Celtic World and am two chapters into A History of Wales. I've also started looking into Welsh language resources on Amazon :)

Both the girls have been unusually irritable lately, so studying has become my only link to sanity. I put the music on, and either Joy reads to herself or dances around while I hold Gracie and study, or if Gracie is sleeping, I'll hold Joy and we'll cuddle and sing together while I study. It makes the understanding-what-I'm-reading process marginally more difficult, but it's worth it to both study and not feel like I'm neglecting my girls.

I am, however, neglecting my housework horribly.

I don't seem to mind.

I was thinking today that when the girls are old enough to start doing school, I won't have the time to study like I can now. It made me even more determined to get through the courses I've set for myself now so that I won't be left feeling unfinished or frustrated when I have to transition from student to teacher. Of course I'll still be learning while doing that ... according to my mother, teaching is the best form of learning out there ... but it won't be the formal stuff I'm doing now. I mean, I can't really expect preschool-age kids to really want to do a college-level course of Chinese history!

On the other hand, teaching them whatever language I want to learn, while they're still young, might have benefits for ALL of us!

I had briefly considered setting myself a goal, starting in January, of reading one new book a week for a year, but I think that project might have to wait for a few years. Right now, between raising kids, occasionally doing housework, studying history and (hopefully soon) learning a language, studying Scripture, and writing ...

I have more than enough to keep me busy. But it's a good, rich kind of busy, the kind that produces much fruit instead of much exhaustion.

Although exhaustion does make itself known all too frequently!

Autumn Delights

Today is Canadian Thanksgiving ... how better to celebrate with our northern friends than with our own gifts of praise to the One from whom all good things flow?

Hand-crocheted hats from a loving GG, providing both delight and warmth to two little girls.

Brilliant colors highlighted against the brightest blue sky

Fresh air and scuffling leaves ... keen enjoyment simply in being alive

Boots that make me feel like a million bucks every time I wear them

Warm apple cake, a new recipe that has turned into an old favorite!

Little girl dancing to music, singing along and making up half the words

Library books for young and not-so-young, an early love of reading already instilled, and only growing deeper for Mamma

Literary phone conversations with long-distance friends

Early morning (and any time during the day) cuddles with a warm, wiggly daughter and a snuggly blanket

Developing personality emerging in baby girl ... smiles and frowns both welcomed with joy

Warm fleece blanket arrived in mail from Louisiana friend ... the blanket exchange is complete, one from me for each of her kids, and one from her for each of mine ... tangible reminders of love

Holding hands with husband on a Sunday afternoon hike, one daughter riding with each parent, a moment of pure family joy

"Biskies" for breakfast and Sweet Italian Creme Coffee ... homemade delights!

Need blog help!

I need help from my computer-savvy friends. I want to redo my blog template. I want a picture actually taken by me as my header, and I want a different background, and I'm a little sick of the light font on dark background, so I want to switch to a dark font on light background.

I like the three column set-up, though.

So, how do I go about personalizing my blog, or do I have to switch once again and go to a place like wordpress to get what I want?

Oh yeah, one last thing--I'm also not paying for anything. So any suggestions you have must be for FREE things. Because I'm cheap like that.

And because Carl would have something close to a heart attack if I started spending money on a BLOG.

ETA: I made some changes to my poetry blog: Songs of Joy, as a practice for this one. What do you think? Like, dislike, suggestions?

Tres Chic, we hope!

So, I haven't done a fashion post yet. I know, I know, I promised to keep you all updated on my journey toward French chic, but aside from the difficulties of being chic with a baby who spits up all over you at any given moment, and a toddler who who doesn't understand that some clothes are not meant to be pulled and climbed over and if you pull Mamma's scarf while it's still around her neck you just might choke her ...

Aside from all that has been the challenge of getting good pictures. The lighting in both our bathrooms, the only places where we have full-length mirrors, is very poor, and Carl is just not cut out to be a fashion photographer (but I love him dearly for being willing to try every time I ask him).

So, not so many pictures. However, I have managed to get a few, and here they are:

I love these shoes. I have to put bandaids on my heels before wearing them or else I get terrible blisters, but oh, I do love them.


Please ignore, well, ME in this picture. Like I said, either Carl's a very bad fashion photographer (though quite good in other areas) or I'm a terribly model. The point of this picture is the outfit, which I think is rather charming.


Like I said, poor lighting, but this is, I think, my new favorite outfit: black boots (the most expensive things in my wardrobe, but so worth the ridiculous amount of money because I feel gorgeous every tme I wear them); fawn-colored gauchos; black shirt; thin scarf; and black beret (the only kind of hat that looks decent on my oddly-shaped skull).

Close-up of the top half of the outfit. Please ignore the towels hanging on the door in the background!


The accessory that goes with everything and never looks out of place? Baby Gracie, of course!

And now I'm off to cuddle on the couch with Joy, who seems to have a touch of whatever I had earlier this week, and watch Babes in Toyland.

And the hits keep coming ...

Gracie woke up to eat three times last night. The fourth time was at 6:00 this morning, after which I have a vague recollection of putting her back in the crib and collapsing back in bed until 7:00. I am unsure about whether this is a growth spurt or teething or what, but oh, I hope it settles back down soon. I have fond, distant memories of her only waking up once a night for feedings. Did I ever complain about that? If so, shame on me!

No wait--that was Carl who complained about that.

That's all right then.

Carl came home yesterday with the news that his company has implemented mandatory overtime for his division. An extra four hours a week means he'll be taking shorter lunches and still getting home later every day at least to the end of this year.

I so did not need to hear that news. He didn't, particularly, either. It cuts into study time and family time for him, neither of which he really is willing to sacrifice for work.

Well. So be it. God will see us through this time, just as he has every other difficult time. I know that, though somehow it doesn't make the actual endurance of said times any easier. I suppose that is a sign of how un-sanctified I am. A truly spiritual person would rejoice in trials, right?

Right now I feel like I would sacrifice a bit of sanctification for some sleep!

I know that sounds irreverent (and it was written with tongue firmly in cheek, or whatever the writing equivalent is), but there is a grain of truth in it, too. My human nature wants life to be easy and comfortable. I don't really like suffering. (Did Paul ever really enjoy it, or did he just learn to look through the sufferings to the ultimate goal. I mean, do you think he ever said: "Oh boy, here come more beatings and shipwrecks, YESSS!!!!" Maybe he did. I'm certainly not there yet, though.)

As long as I'm being brutally honest, I'll confess that I want my girls to be happy and well-behaved without me having to suffer through the tears and frustrations of training them. I want my husband to be aware of all my needs and jump to serve me without me ever having to reciprocate. I want my house to be sparkling clean without me doing the work. I want to be able to bake without having to clean up afterward! I want to be published without having to work to find a publisher. (You all already knew that one.) I want to know and love God more without actually making the effort to delve into his Word and pray.

Sigh. I think I'm starting to see why he keeps sending everyday wearing downs ... I have a long way to go, and as long as life is comfortable and easy I'll never get there. As I was typing this Joy was in her high chair struggling to eat her scrambled eggs with a fork. It's easier for her to use her fingers or have me feed her, but if I don't keep giving her the fork to use and encouraging her to persevere through the difficulties of mastering using utensils, she'll never grow into a fully developed adult.

This is a rambling post, but I'm not going to clean it up at all ... it follows the sometimes tortuous path of my thoughts: from starting out overwhelmed and tired and just wanting God to make it all better now to understanding and acceptance.

Though I still will not complain when Gracie starts sleeping better at night. And it's a fair bet that my floors won't get swept today, either.

Struggling

Today, I am thankful that God does not always give us strength, but is willing to come meet us in our weaknesses.

I am thankful that he brings out beauty in ugliness--like glorious colors as the year approaches death.

I am thankful that my girls don't care if I spend the day in sweatpants and don't always bother to wash my hair.

I am thankful that I know from prior experience that Grace will eventually start sleeping through the night and I will not be this exhausted until I die (even if right now death merely sounds like a nice way to get some rest!).

I am thankful that Joy only has her cuspids and her second-year molars left before she, at least, is done teething.

I have been ground down these last few weeks until there is very little of me left ... scraped all 'round the edges, like a bowl of batter at the hands of an over-zealous cook. Yesterday I burst into tears when Carl called on his way home from church to suggest taking the girls for a walk ... I just didn't think I could do one thing more.

But it will pass. It will pass.

And God is still good. That one fact is never in doubt.

And now I have to go feed The Mouth, aka Grace. Again.

Not About Me

This cold hasn't beaten me yet. I spent most of yesterday resting on the couch (attempting to cuddle with Joy, who, I'm sad to say, did not show much interest in cuddling) and drinking copious amounts of hot lemon and honey. So, today, I'm feeling marginally more like a human being, though I wouldn't exactly want to go hike a mountain this weekend.

It's supposed to rain all weekend, anyway.

My brain is still pretty fuzzy today. Which is frustrating, because I have exactly five chapters left of my Celtic World book, and I SHOULD have finished it this week. Between Carl needed the computer in the evenings, though, and me being sleep-deprived and sick, well, I managed to study exactly 1/2 chapter. Not a great record.

Plus I desperately want to be writing. Remember that maybe possible opportunity regarding my writing I mentioned a little while ago? Well, in order for that to happen I actually have to have something WRITTEN, and as of right now I have exactly 1 1/3 pages written. Pages. Not chapters. Even only having 1 1/2 chapters written would be sad for a 200 page novel. This, though ...

Well. In all my exactitude here, let me also say that I have read exactly 0 pages in my Hosea study.

It's immensely frustrating, and these are the times that I want to start beating myself up, calling myself lazy, grumbling and growling about all the housework that has to get done that takes time away from things I really want to do, even feeling the slightest wee bit of resentment against my family, because their needs always have to come first and DANG IT, I want to have the world revolve around MEEEEEEE for a change!

Note the degeneration there? From criticizing myself, I move to blaming my surroundings, then the people around me, then end up in full-blown selfishness.

"It's that woman you gave me, God!"

Sigh. Human nature hasn't changed much since Adam's day.

Thankfully ... But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ--by grace you have been saved--and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. (Ephesians 2:4-7)

What freedom, what love in those words! It isn't about me, thank goodness. It's about Christ, bringing glory to him. And even if I do nothing regarding studying, or never get even close to being published, even if my house is a mess and I have to spend a day on the couch recovering my strength, I can still glorify him.

Because it's not about actions at all. It's about attitude. It's about having a heart turned toward him. It's about putting him first.

And that, through the work of the Holy Spirit, I can do, no matter what else is happening in my house or my life or my studying.

And now I have to get off the computer because I'm getting light-headed again. Back to the couch!

Tired and sick, or sick and tired?

I am fighting off a cold. NOT fun. This is an unfair battle, given that Gracie has taken to waking up 2-3 times a night for the past week. And Joy is usually awake by 7:00 at the latest. I am tired.

Speaking of Gracie's sleep habits, I could use some advice from other breastfeeding moms out there. She's always been an amazingly fast eater (and I have a fast letdown), so starting out she usually did only five minutes on each side and was done, satisfied, and everything was jolly. She was going 3 1/2 to 4 hours between feedings during the day, and usually had a 7-hour stretch at night. Sometimes even 8.

THEN. Then, then, then. As she approached four months, she started getting very distracted by her surroundings while nursing (which I know is normal). Even trying to feed her in a darkened, quiet room didn't help; then she just strained more trying to make things out. I didn't worry too much about it, except that she cut back to only wanting to nurse 5 minutes TOTAL--about three minutes one side and two the other. And ever since that started a couple weeks ago, she's been eating more frequently during the day and the longest she'll sleep at night is 5 hours. I'm exhausted, and I can't figure out what to do! I try to keep her on longer, and she just pulls away. I try waiting 10 minutes and then putting her back on, and she's uninterested.

Oh, and she's also exhibiting all the signs of starting to teethe.

Do I just wait it out and hope that eventually she goes back to nursing the way she used to? I really don't want to start her on cereal until she can't be satisfied by breastmilk alone anymore, which is not the case. On the other hand, I don't want to be waking up 3 times a night for the next two months, either.

Or does anyone have any tips to encourage her to nurse longer?

Joy's been cranky lately too. In fact, it's been kind of difficult for me not to slip into self-pity these days. I just keep reminding myself that God is good, I am immensely blessed by my two healthy, full-of-life daughters, and that the world does not revolve around my comfort.

It's been helping, but just the same, I'll be glad when I'm back up to full health. And a good night's sleep wouldn't hurt, either!

(Note: Something's obviously been getting through to Joy, though--usually if she sees my water bottle within reach she just drinks from it without asking, and just now she came up and asked "Mamma? Water?" I love these little glimpses of hope that training might eventually pay off!)