Slacker? **edited**

My poor, sweet, neglected blog.......

You deserve better than this!

But it turns out, there may be a reason you have been so neglected.

My friend Dotty and her husband Justin/Houston came to my house last week. They are interested in some very interesting things; conversation with these two is never lacking! One of the major topics for our chat that evening was the personality types identified in the Meyers-Briggs personality test. They are very familiar with the different types, and to save me from having to take the test (I have my degree, I don't have to take no more stinkin' tests), they 'diagnosed' me. Turns out I'm an ISFP. I think. Dotty, you can correct me if I'm wrong. But whatever the name is, the description was very accurate. Not 100%, but you can't really create a system that will identify people's personality traits completely perfectly. I mean, with 6 billion or so people on the earth, it just ain't gonna happen.

But back to the issue at hand: my neglected blog. Turns out that an ISFP will usually get really excited about some new creative project, and then kinda get bored with it and move on. So that's why I have a violin, several half-painted canvases and a toolbox of paints, a half-finished scrapbook from Austria, and one Zentangle. The weight of guilt from years of never sticking with a craft or art form has been lifted! It's just who I am! God made me this way, and there's nothing wrong with it.

Now, about those sewing lessons......

**edit: I just remembered the knitting needles that are currently wrapped up in the scarf I never finished for my neice, and the second set of knitting needles that are wrapped up in one row of a blanket for Liam**

Confession

I lied.

I didn't read the whole manual. Do you know how long that would have taken???? Seriously. I have things to do. But I did read a good bit of it, and learned some cool things that my camera can do. Like this.




This is a picture of my son on the way home from his first birthday party (as a guest, of course.)






This is what it looks like when I isolate the color of his pacifier. Isn't that neat? The camera does it.


I'm not sure how this new trick will translate into artful photography, but I'm anxious to get practicing. If only I had a very cute and very available subject to shoot........

Photog

I love photography. I always have. Even before I had a camera, I could sit for hours and look at other peoples' photographs. A teacher at school (like, elementary or middle school) was throwing out a bunch of National Geographic magazines one time, and I took them home and covered my walls in the beautiful photographs. In high school my aunt gave me an old 35mm camera that had been her ex-husband's. I LOVED that thing! Well, once someone showed me how to get the film out after I had taken pictures. I would almost always load it with black and white film, and I used that thing through college. When we got married, a different aunt and uncle gave us the amazing digital camera we have now. It was technically a gift for both Will and I, but we know who it really belongs to. I love this camera. But I have NEVER read the manual.

Wouldn't you think that someone who has a fantastic camera, and who DREAMS of being a photographer one day, would learn everything she could about her equipment? I'm so embarrassed. There are so many things I could have been doing with this camera, if only I would have read about it!

But I'm turning over a new leaf. The manual sits beside me, and it will be read before the weekend is over. Mark my words.

Maternal Guilt

My husband has been out of town for 6 days, and PRAISE THE LORD he's back. Liam and I did just fine without him, but it's doggone lonely. My husband is my best friend, and I just like being around him. Even if we're just sitting on opposite ends of the couch with our feet stretched out, and he sleeps as I blog.

Hypothetically speaking, of course.

Speaking of stretching out on the couch.....

As I was snuggling Liam for one of his naps today (yes, I still snuggle him for a nap occasionally. Well maybe more than occasionally), I was thinking about how much time the little guy and I have spent snuggled up together. He slept on me almost exclusively for 8 weeks or so, and even after that we still take one nap together almost every day. We're both such snugglers. And nappers. I was also thinking of how much of me he gets in a day. I don't hold him or play with him every second, but we spend a lot of time together. And this started to make me feel guilty. Maternal guilt. But for what?

Oh, this is funny.

For the children we don't have yet.

I started to feel guilty that I wouldn't be able to spend this kind of quality time with another child if God blesses us with another.

Seriously?

Maternal guilt is a funny thing. It knows no bounds. For some, it starts the moment you find out you're pregnant. You quickly think back over the previous weeks to see if you eaten/drank/done anything that could possibly harm the baby. And then for the rest of your pregnancy you second guess yourself at every step. Once the child is born, it only gets worse.

Am I spending enough time with him?
Am I spending too much time with him?
Am I overfeeding him?
Am I not feeding him enough?

And that's just the first day!

Moms get a lot of flack for laying guilt trips on their kids, but those are nothing compared to the ones we lay on ourselves!!

Bottles

We own six 8 oz bottles. Baby bottles, that is. And as I was washing some of them tonight, I couldn't help but remember the early days, when six bottles weren't enough to get us through 24 hours. My hands were chapped, cracked, and bleeding in those days. I washed a lot of bottles. I would sleep with vitamin A & D ointment on my hands. And today, my son transitioned himself from eating 4 times a day to eating 3 times a day. It might not seem like much of a difference, but it is. I remember how each time he dropped a bottle, that it seemed like new possibilities were opening up. I remember how it felt when I only had to wash bottles once a day. I remember how empowered I felt when I decided to feed him five 6 oz bottles instead of six 5 oz bottles. I remember the transition to four 8 oz bottles, and how I would have been happy to stay there forever. But Liam decided today that he wanted his 3 squares a day, thank you very much. So we've gone from not having enough bottles to get through 24 hours, to having enough bottles for 2 days.

Does it seem like I'm making a big deal out of nothing? I might be. But I am just continually reminded of how quickly things change with kids. The early days were so hopeless for me, in many ways. It just never seemed like things would get better. And today, I went to the mall with him, had LOTS of laughs and snuggles with him, fed him 3 times, and put him to bed at 7:00.

No matter where you are in life, things will change. The good things will change. The bad things will change. God is our only constant. Hold on to Him, and enjoy the ride.

Good Grief

The PMS pendulum has swung the other way.

I just spent 20 minutes looking at pictures of Liam as a newborn. While looking at the pictures taken of him as they were cleaning him off, I started to cry. Not because he's grown so much since then (and believe me, he has). But because I just love him SO MUCH!!!!!

The worst part? My friend Brianna had to sit through all the picture-looking and crying. I should buy her something for that.

Red Alert

I had (a radio) once, but I threw it up against the wall when I couldn't figure out where the batteries went. I know now I was suffering from pre-menstrual syndrome.
-Dolly Parton in "Steel Magnolias"

Ever have one of those moments?

I did today.

It was the most supremely gorgeous day, and I was dying to take Liam for a walk. Getting out of the house with him takes all day, so at about 4 o'clock we set out for the Arboretum. I think it's a law in Lexington that you have to go to the Arboretum on the first pretty day of the year. So being the law-abiding citizens we are, Liam and I went.

However, we didn't get to walk. And I'm getting all riled up again just typing about it!

Breathe.
Breathe.

Ok, what it boils down to is this: I didn't do enough research when I picked out his 'big boy' stroller. It has a storage basket that isn't even big enough for a college textbook (no exaggeration.) And it provides zero shade, even though it comes with a shade. You can move it down to cover the top half of his body, but then the sun glares down on the top of his head. With a bigger kid, it wouldn't matter so much. But with a caucasian baby who has been inside his whole life, it matters.

So we were there for less than five minutes, and left. I couldn't let my baby get sunburned.

So this is where the PMS kicks in.

When putting the stroller back in the trunk, I had serious (again, no joking) thoughts about throwing it on the ground. In hindsight, I would have also enjoyed running over it. As I was driving away, I almost cried. I have been cooped up in the house for months now, and I really thought today would be the day that I would get out. And I'm fat, and I will die fat (these are the ultra-constructive thoughts I was having in the moment.) My next clue that PMS was rearing its ugly head: I gave serious, serious thought to rear-ending a car that was taking too long to turn.

None of this has been exaggerated. This is exactly how it all went down.

The cure?

Driving around Lexington aimlessly for 45 minutes, praying, drinking Diet Coke, and listening to Shane & Shane, while my sweet little boy slept in the backseat.

Just had to get that out.
I feel better.

Now it's time to eat the Chipotle my husband brought home.