Elias usually sleeps until almost 9 and then talks to himself for a little while longer. I have discovered that he likes to have a few minutes to wake up. Which is all sorts of wonderful to me.
This morning he woke up and started crying. This means one of two things: he isn't ready to be awake, is hungry, and hasn't found the remains of his bottle OR he has a dirty diaper.
I let him cry for a few minutes, hoping he was just hungry and hadn't found his bottle.
No such luck.
I finally went in, satisfied that he wasn't just hungry, to smell the damage. It was awful.
He was standing up in his crib and pointing down and being a malcontent. As I got closer I saw that his diaper was half off and there was a poop-cake in the general direction of his points.
I realized what happened. This morning when I went in to give him his middle-of-the-morning bottle, I also changed him. That way he isn't completely soaked, or leaking, by morning.
Last night his diaper was on weird to begin with, and he had leaked all over his pants and sheets. I removed his pants and didn't put them back on. His room is warm enough to do that. Then I put on his diaper. In the dark. While I was half asleep.
He likes to play with the tabs, and he does not like to be dirty. I think he started pulling on the tabs when he had his BM this morning and that grossed him out even more. And grossed me out even more.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Chieko N. Okazaki
This is the quote from Sister Okazaki that I quoted in my talk. My quote is not broken down into paragraphs, and I attempted to break it up a little. I'm not sure how close it is to her actual book, but it was a try!
The Atonement is an Individual Experience-Chieko N. Okazaki
Well, my dear sisters, the gospel is the good news that can free us from guilt.
We know that Jesus experienced the totality of mortal existence in Gethsemane. It's our faith that he experienced everything-- absolutely everything. Sometimes we don't think through the implications of that belief.
We talk in great generalities about the sins of all humankind, about the suffering of the entire human family. But we don't experience pain in generalities. We experience it individually.
That means he knows what it felt like when your mother died of cancer- how it was for your mother, how it still is for you. He knows what it felt like to lose the student body election. He knows that moment when the brakes locked and the car started to skid. He experienced the slave ship sailing from Ghana toward Virginia. He experienced the gas chambers at Dachau. He experienced napalm in Vietnam. He knows about drug addiction and alcoholism.
Let me go further. There is nothing you have experienced as a woman that he does not know and recognize.
On a profound level, he understands the hunger to hold your baby that sustains you through pregnancy. He understands both the physical pain of giving birth and the immense joy. He knows about PMS and cramps and menopause. He understands about rape and infertility and abortion.
His last recorded words to his disciples were, "And, lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world." (Matthew 28:20)
He understands your mother-pain when your five-year-old leaves for kindergarten, when a bully picks on your fifth-grader, when your daughter calls to say that the new baby has Down's Syndrome. He knows your mother-rage when a trusted babysitter sexually abuses your two-year-old, when someone gives your thirteen-year-old drugs, when someone seduces your seventeen-year-old. He knows the pain you live with when you come home to a quiet apartment where the only visitors are children, when you hear that your former husband and his new wife were sealed in the temple last week, when your fiftieth wedding anniversary rolls around and your husband has been dead for two years.
He knows all that.
He's been there.
He's been lower than all that.
He's not waiting for us to be perfect. Perfect people don't need a Savior. He came to save his people in their imperfections. He is the Lord of the living, and the living make mistakes. He's not embarrassed by us, angry at us , or shocked. He wants us in our brokenness, in our unhappiness, in our guilt and our grief.
You know that people who live above a certain latitude experience very long winter nights and can become depressed and even suicidal, because something in our bodies requires whole spectrum light for a certain number of hours a day.
Our spiritual requirement for light is just as desperate and as deep as our physical need for light. Jesus is the light of the world. We know that this world is a dark place sometimes, but we need not walk in darkness. The people who sit in darkness have seen a great light, and the people who walk in darkness can have a bright companion. We need him, and He is ready to come to us, if we'll open the door and let him. (Chieko N. Okazaki, pp. 6, 7, 8)
The Atonement is an Individual Experience-Chieko N. Okazaki
Well, my dear sisters, the gospel is the good news that can free us from guilt.
We know that Jesus experienced the totality of mortal existence in Gethsemane. It's our faith that he experienced everything-- absolutely everything. Sometimes we don't think through the implications of that belief.
We talk in great generalities about the sins of all humankind, about the suffering of the entire human family. But we don't experience pain in generalities. We experience it individually.
That means he knows what it felt like when your mother died of cancer- how it was for your mother, how it still is for you. He knows what it felt like to lose the student body election. He knows that moment when the brakes locked and the car started to skid. He experienced the slave ship sailing from Ghana toward Virginia. He experienced the gas chambers at Dachau. He experienced napalm in Vietnam. He knows about drug addiction and alcoholism.
Let me go further. There is nothing you have experienced as a woman that he does not know and recognize.
On a profound level, he understands the hunger to hold your baby that sustains you through pregnancy. He understands both the physical pain of giving birth and the immense joy. He knows about PMS and cramps and menopause. He understands about rape and infertility and abortion.
His last recorded words to his disciples were, "And, lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world." (Matthew 28:20)
He understands your mother-pain when your five-year-old leaves for kindergarten, when a bully picks on your fifth-grader, when your daughter calls to say that the new baby has Down's Syndrome. He knows your mother-rage when a trusted babysitter sexually abuses your two-year-old, when someone gives your thirteen-year-old drugs, when someone seduces your seventeen-year-old. He knows the pain you live with when you come home to a quiet apartment where the only visitors are children, when you hear that your former husband and his new wife were sealed in the temple last week, when your fiftieth wedding anniversary rolls around and your husband has been dead for two years.
He knows all that.
He's been there.
He's been lower than all that.
He's not waiting for us to be perfect. Perfect people don't need a Savior. He came to save his people in their imperfections. He is the Lord of the living, and the living make mistakes. He's not embarrassed by us, angry at us , or shocked. He wants us in our brokenness, in our unhappiness, in our guilt and our grief.
You know that people who live above a certain latitude experience very long winter nights and can become depressed and even suicidal, because something in our bodies requires whole spectrum light for a certain number of hours a day.
Our spiritual requirement for light is just as desperate and as deep as our physical need for light. Jesus is the light of the world. We know that this world is a dark place sometimes, but we need not walk in darkness. The people who sit in darkness have seen a great light, and the people who walk in darkness can have a bright companion. We need him, and He is ready to come to us, if we'll open the door and let him. (Chieko N. Okazaki, pp. 6, 7, 8)
Personal Bit
Today was a pretty crummy day.
And I wouldn't normally share stuff like this so freely, but by the end of today I had made a few realizations and I felt a little better about life.
I went to my regularly scheduled doctor appointment. I took Elias. By the time we got called back to a room, he was a screaming mess. No matter. It was just weigh in, blood pressure, fill the cup, listen to the heartbeat, and then out.
The first three were ok. When it came time for the baby's heartbeat, the doctor couldn't hear the heartbeat the first time with the little hand held radar thing. A little of that was probably due to the fact that Elias was screaming and crying.
The doctor then sent us to the ultrasound room for an ultrasound. She saw the baby, but it was not moving and did not have a heartbeat. She measured it and told me that it had stopped growing at 10 weeks.
It was completely devastating.
Later in the day, I was thinking about the talk I had to give in church about two weeks ago. It was on Trials. I thought about the things I had said. I have been reflecting back on the articles I read when I was preparing for the talk.
Most of it centered on the healing qualities of the atonement: how Jesus knows our pains personally. I have a quote that I love from Chieko N. Okazaki, but I'll put that up in another post as I feel like this one is going to be a novel.
I spent a little time thinking about how much I believed or didn't believe in what I had spoken to the congregation. The answer is a loud and resounding "YES! I believe every word that I had spoken with all my heart."
Even though my day started out bad, and tomorrow will be crummy too, and I'll always feel a little sad that I miscarried this one, I know that everything is going to be ok. I have family that loves me, and I have had an amazing Priesthood Blessing.
I don't want to talk about this out loud yet. There are very tender feelings in speaking about it aloud, but I am at peace. Sorry if I didn't answer your calls; I just needed a little time to sort through things.
And I wouldn't normally share stuff like this so freely, but by the end of today I had made a few realizations and I felt a little better about life.
I went to my regularly scheduled doctor appointment. I took Elias. By the time we got called back to a room, he was a screaming mess. No matter. It was just weigh in, blood pressure, fill the cup, listen to the heartbeat, and then out.
The first three were ok. When it came time for the baby's heartbeat, the doctor couldn't hear the heartbeat the first time with the little hand held radar thing. A little of that was probably due to the fact that Elias was screaming and crying.
The doctor then sent us to the ultrasound room for an ultrasound. She saw the baby, but it was not moving and did not have a heartbeat. She measured it and told me that it had stopped growing at 10 weeks.
It was completely devastating.
Later in the day, I was thinking about the talk I had to give in church about two weeks ago. It was on Trials. I thought about the things I had said. I have been reflecting back on the articles I read when I was preparing for the talk.
Most of it centered on the healing qualities of the atonement: how Jesus knows our pains personally. I have a quote that I love from Chieko N. Okazaki, but I'll put that up in another post as I feel like this one is going to be a novel.
I spent a little time thinking about how much I believed or didn't believe in what I had spoken to the congregation. The answer is a loud and resounding "YES! I believe every word that I had spoken with all my heart."
Even though my day started out bad, and tomorrow will be crummy too, and I'll always feel a little sad that I miscarried this one, I know that everything is going to be ok. I have family that loves me, and I have had an amazing Priesthood Blessing.
I don't want to talk about this out loud yet. There are very tender feelings in speaking about it aloud, but I am at peace. Sorry if I didn't answer your calls; I just needed a little time to sort through things.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
My hanging(?) garden
I thought I would try planting a tomato in a hanging basket. I hung the basket on the garage. It should work. Tomato plants are just sprawling vines unless you tie them up. They should be just fine hanging down, right?
If this works, I've got plenty-o-space for more.
Any suggestions for low light/shade plants to hang in baskets from under my back porch? Do spider plants thrive here in the great state of Texas?
I feel like I need to try something new. I've had success with the things I've been growing in containers so far. Lettuce, spinach, potatoes, onions, garlic...time to try the flowers. Hibiscus plants are going in all over the yard. I'm trying to talk Bryce into an orange, lemon, and fig tree.
Just thought I'd indulge my crazy and see if any of the three of you who read this had any pointers for my gardening.
If this works, I've got plenty-o-space for more.
Any suggestions for low light/shade plants to hang in baskets from under my back porch? Do spider plants thrive here in the great state of Texas?
I feel like I need to try something new. I've had success with the things I've been growing in containers so far. Lettuce, spinach, potatoes, onions, garlic...time to try the flowers. Hibiscus plants are going in all over the yard. I'm trying to talk Bryce into an orange, lemon, and fig tree.
Just thought I'd indulge my crazy and see if any of the three of you who read this had any pointers for my gardening.
Monday, March 2, 2009
While driving today....
I was on my way home this evening when I get behind this large white truck at a stop light. By how far back we were, I knew it was probably going to be a two light wait. No problem.
There were three boys in the back. They were all young. I would guess between 7 and 11.
The back window on the truck was opened. I noticed them turning around and smiling and then ducking their heads back in the truck. Still, no problem. I thought, "Cute. They are looking at Elias." Because Elias was smiling and then turning away and then looking to see if they were still looking.
Then I noticed the light turned green. Hooray! That much closer to home!
The little monsters started flipping me the bird! Seven to 11 year old cherubs were giving me the finger. I scowled at them and shook my head no with my mean teacher face.
Their dad ran a red light to get through the intersection. Good thing too, I was already getting ready to lean out my window and say something motherish like: Gentlemen, that is not appropriate!
I was left to be grouchy and have to be the first person in line to wait for the next light.
For the rest of the way home, I was thankful knowing that Elias and any other spawn of mine will never do anything so crude...or they will be beaten.
There were three boys in the back. They were all young. I would guess between 7 and 11.
The back window on the truck was opened. I noticed them turning around and smiling and then ducking their heads back in the truck. Still, no problem. I thought, "Cute. They are looking at Elias." Because Elias was smiling and then turning away and then looking to see if they were still looking.
Then I noticed the light turned green. Hooray! That much closer to home!
The little monsters started flipping me the bird! Seven to 11 year old cherubs were giving me the finger. I scowled at them and shook my head no with my mean teacher face.
Their dad ran a red light to get through the intersection. Good thing too, I was already getting ready to lean out my window and say something motherish like: Gentlemen, that is not appropriate!
I was left to be grouchy and have to be the first person in line to wait for the next light.
For the rest of the way home, I was thankful knowing that Elias and any other spawn of mine will never do anything so crude...or they will be beaten.
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