Half Birthday

I've been meaning to post this for a while, but I've been busy.

Liam turned 6 months old last week. 6 months!! I remember reading a devotional book for new moms that was for the first 6 weeks of motherhood, and I when I started it I couldn't fathom making it that far.

6 months. So much has changed.

We went to stay with my husband's parents for a few days last weekend. We hadn't been there since Christmas, when Liam was a mere 7 weeks old. I felt like a broken record. All I could think about (and talk about) was how much had changed since the last time we were there!! At that point we were still co-sleeping, and he wouldn't tolerate being put down. Ever. We took turns holding him while we ate dinner. Will opened all of my Christmas presents for me so I could hold Liam. I slept on the couch in the living room, and Will slept on the floor next to me. We still did middle of the night feedings. We were exhausted.

This time around, Liam went to bed around 7pm and woke up around 7 am. He napped really well, and enjoyed spending time in his ExerSaucer while we ate (except of course at dinner, when he was fast asleep.) Will and I slept in a real bed.

6 months. We made it to 6 months.

I walked past a display of Tommee Tippee bottles the other day, and I teared up (for the record, it doesn't take much to make me cry now that I'm a mom.) We used a Tommee Tippee bottle very early in the game with Liam, and seeing those bottles took me back to that time. I didn't tear up because I was sad that my baby has grown so much. I teared up because I am so relieved not to be in that newborn stage any more. It was the hardest time period of my life. I have loved Liam from the start, but I was miserable in the beginning. So miserable that walking past a display of bottles makes me want to cry tears of joy and relief.

Enough feelings. How about some pictures?

Here's a little segment I like to call "Then & Now."
Enjoy.

Here we go!

I finally gave in and decided to count points again. Weight Watchers points, that is. Will and I did Weight Watchers a few years ago, and were very successful. But things happen, and I'm back to a good starting point for losing weight (how's that for a positive outlook? :) ) I've been wanting to lose weight for a while now, even since before I got pregnant (obviously I did NOT want to lose weight while I was pregnant; Liam's health and growth was foremost in my mind.) Every time I would say something to Will about wanting to lose weight, he would suggest we count points again. We still had all the materials, we knew the system, and we knew it worked. To him it was a no-brainer.

But I always resisted. Teeth-gritted, white knuckled resistance. I didn't want to. Sometimes I would try and blame gluten ("We've never done Weight Watchers gluten-free. We don't know how. It will be too hard.). The heart of the matter, however, was simple:

I didn't want to deny myself what I wanted.

And it turns out that this is more than a food issue. The symptom may be overeating, but the root goes much deeper. It's a spiritual issue (and to some extent, and emotional issue. But that's another topic for another post :) .)

I've been reading a wonderful book on the subject called "Made to Crave" by Lysa TerKeurst. I'm only starting it, but so far I am impressed with her candor, and insight. Right before I got pregnant I started reading "The Weigh-Down Diet" by Gwen Shamblin. It also helped me to see my over eating for what it was: idolatry.

What!? I don't have a golden 3 Musketeers statue in my bedroom that I bow down to!!

But that doesn't' mean I'm not guilty of idolatry. One of Webster's definitions of idolatry is "immoderate attachment or devotion to something." One doesn't reach the weight I'm at by practicing moderation.

But in a way, I think it's a good thing that I gain weight when I overeat. There are some people whose bodies let them eat as much as they want without showing any change on the outside. If I were one of those people, it would be easy to hide and ignore my sin. But God wants me to be free of my sin, so He helps me by showing my sin on a daily basis.

So, off we go again, down the road of healthy eating. I can't promise that I'll never complain, or that I'll never mess up. But God is good, and He'll pick me up when I fall.

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.