I used to think that the first month with a new baby would be the hardest time (for me) in my children's early development. I'm starting to think that this idea was wrong because, you see, we have officially entered what most label as "the terrible twos". I'm not sure I like that phrase because it's not terrible, it's just terribly hard. Although I may be frustrated and teary because of the new challenges my toddler is presenting, I also would not wish any other stage of development on him. We are experiencing this new phase just like every other parent before us. But, still... I don't think I ever understood how hard it would be until now!

Most of our challenges began a week or so after we introduced Judah to his big boy bed. He slept in it wonderfully for the first few days. Then, without any warning, he was all "I'm going to get out of this bed for no other reason than that I CAN." Needless to say, he has not been impressed with our insistence that he stay in bed when we put him down. Then it becomes a battle of who will give up first. Hooo boy, do I ever have to pray for grace to handle these situations. It's not really that productive to start screaming and crying and flailing right back at my screaming and crying and flailing toddler, is it? Now that he can decide (in theory) when he goes to bed, he's convinced he can decide on other important things, i.e. when he has snack, how many bowls of cheerios he consumes, what surfaces are suitable for colouring on, etc. 

Along with this new attitude Judah's been developing has come a bit of a language explosion. He's stringing words together now... but not in sentence (or even mini-sentence) form. Example:

        Up? Pants? Bus? Coffee? Uuuuuuuuup? 

        Or, my favourite, "Sheep? Puppy-horsey-cow? 

It's nice that he's trying harder to communicate, but it can also lead to even more frustration when I can't understand what he's saying. He's all "I'm telling you exactly what I want!" and I'm all "But I don't know what you're saying!" Cue tears. And other tantrum-y manifestations.

Like right now. He was on my lap a moment ago, trying to press buttons, whining because I won't let him drink my coffee. So I put him down. Now he is kind of in a tizzy because he's not exactly where he wants to be at this moment in time. How about a compromise? I say to him, "Judah, if you come up here, no pressing buttons." He replies with "No buns." And now he's sitting happily on my lap, playing with a toy while I type this. Which is what he was refusing to do before. Le sigh. 

Every day I am discovering anew how desperately I need to cling to Christ. The worshipful Psalms have been of great comfort to me. They help to get me out of the fog of the present circumstances and focus my mind on Him who holds all things in His hands. Worshiping God in the midst of turmoil (although I am very aware that this "turmoil" is nothing like that which those being persecuted for their faith experience) allows me to look at my screaming toddler with love rather than indignation. I need Christ. I need His blood to cover my sins. I need grace to face the day, every day.

I knew I would learn things while being a mother, but I think I underestimated just how eternally valuable these things would be.

little bundle

wordless wednesday

my hand soap soapbox

If you're like me, washing your hands is something you do 1,766,049 times a day (change baby #1. Wash hands. Change baby #2. Wash hands. Go to washroom. Wash hands. Repeat.). If you're like me, it's kind of important to you to have a wonderful smelling soap to make the task seem less... redundant. If you're like me, buying pricey soaps is something you feel kind of guilty doing. 

Well! Have I got the solution for you! The next time you are at Bath and Body Works, or hear that bottle of Method calling your name from the shelf, consider buying two bottles of your favourite scent: one foaming soap version, and one liquid soap version (if you already have a foaming dispenser of any kind, you can just purchase the latter). Take time to thoroughly enjoy your foaming soap while it lasts, and weep not when it's all gone. Simply pour one tablespoon of the liquid soap into the empty foaming dispenser and fill it up with warm-ish water. You will be pleasantly surprised to find out that it's exactly the same thing. Kinda silly, when you realize that you paid the same price for the foam soap as you did for the liquid soap. But, hey! At least you get to enjoy that Vanilla Bean Noel for ages to come - for a fraction of the price!

Just thought I'd share this simple little thing that has made my day a little happier than it was before. 

undeniably, remarkably, supernaturally blessed

Sorry for the silence. It’s just been one of those weeks…

• the camera has been dead for days and I haven’t charged it
• at one point I was certain that Judah had Chicken Pox (don’t ask)
• Benjamin learned to screech whenever he wants attention. No more little lamb cry.
• we discovered that Benjamin is too long in the torso for his car seat (especial with winter bundling and a cloth diaper) which contributed to the world’s most shrill screaming fit right before we left for church yesterday
• Judah has perfected the art of tantrum-ing. His appetite that was lost from his early week sickness is most definitely back. With a vengeance. If you don’t give me food now I will throwmyselfdownandscreamscreamscreamandscreamsomemore!
• He has also severely grated Mommy’s nerves with the never-ending whining that just gets higher and higher in pitch the longer she doesn’t acquiesce to his request. Cahyoooor? Cahyooooooooor? Cahyoooooooooooooor?!? (aka “colour”)

But it’s also been one of those strangely blessed weeks…

• Judah took to sleeping in his big boy bed remarkably well. We didn’t really try to accustom him to it. We just plopped him in, said good night, and that was that. He now knows how to get out of it, which hasn’t been too troublesome yet. It’s just strange to hear little feet running down the hall of their own accord in the early hours of the morning.
• As a result of the Screaming Fit To End All Screaming Fits yesterday, we stopped in at the local Walmart to peruse the car seats. We discovered a poorly distinguished sale for a 3-in-1 suitable for 5-80 pounds for… wait for it… $70 off! We feel extremely blessed to have been able to purchase something of a higher quality than we can usually afford.
• The snow we received on Friday is still here and is expected to whiten the ground until March. This pleases me, for, unlike many people I know, I love winter.
• Pastor Glenn’s sermon yesterday cut me to the quick. I had the most unbelievably selfish morning. I don’t think I’ve ever been so rotten. When Glenn got up there and started speaking about Jesus as revealed in the book of Revelation, I immediately knew that, had not my own sinful nature been exposed that morning, the ground of my heart would not have been prepared to receive that message. For the first time in… well, I can’t remember when, I did not want to leave that sanctuary. It was like Jesus was there, standing among us.

I am constantly looking for some perfected formula for my day-to-day life, and it can never be found in my own efforts. I wish it didn’t always take me so long to realize that I can come before the throne of Grace and ask for the strength I lack from the One who lacks nothing. I have a remarkable Saviour, a perfect and Holy God.

the big boy bed chronicles, v.1

Yesterday one of Joey's aunts dropped off a big boy bed for Judah. We set it up, somehow squeezing it into his tiny room along with his crib. He thought it was pretty cool, but more as a thing to occasionally climb onto and launch teddy bears from than a thing to sleep in. Today we went to town to purchase some necessary twin sheets and a comforter. We put very little thought into the pattern we chose, but when we got home it was discovered that Judah LOVED it. Oh, the giggles from that boy! He danced with glee as I made the bed and talked about just how cool his big boy bed was. When it was time for him to be tucked in, he ran to his crib, waiting to be picked up and placed in it for the night. I said, "Judah, which bed do you really want to sleep in?" and pointed to his crib, then to the new bed. He thought for a moment, laughed out loud, then ran to the bed. I figured it wouldn't hurt to try, so I tucked him in just like normal. 

That, my friends, was an hour ago. There has been nary a peep from that room since I closed the door. Perhaps his late-ish bedtime helped. Perhaps he forgot that he can actually climb out of bed. Whatever the case, this right here is one proud mama.

handmade for Christmas

I'm attempting to make as many things as I can for my boys for Christmas. This little mousey is for Benjamin (but don't tell him!). I must admit that it doesn't look quite like the picture in the pattern, But! It is unique and nostalgic and woolly - and it rattles! I think one arm is longer than the other. The ears don't sit straight. But it's perfect. Just how I wanted it.

Care to make this little friend for someone special? Click the picture for the link!

Have a good day, friends.

it's that time of the year again

Can you guess what we did last night?

just keeping me on my toes

Truly, no two days are alike when you're a parent. How many times have I smugly thought, "we're finally developing a pattern", no sooner to discover that it's changed again? Too many to count. Yesterday and today have afforded some entirely new experiences to me as a mother. Judah, once again, came down with a bad fever. I gave him some children's medication that's worked in the past, but it didn't even make a dent on the alarmingly high numbers that the thermometer spat out at me. We put him to bed, hoping that a good sleep was all he needed. Not three hours later, he was awake and beside himself . His fever had spiked. He wailed in the most frightening tones and clung to whoever was closest. We tried to give him a cool-ish bath, but that only brought more screams of terror. I called my parents for advice and prayer. Mom understood my blubberings and talked calmly while Joey managed to get Judah calmed down enough for the bath to start to soothe him. Next, we placed him in front of the TV while I stroked his hair, dabbed at his forehead and neck with a cool cloth, and got him to drink as much juice as possible. We also fed him some dried prunes to help his, ahem, crowded system to move along. When he was thoroughly soothed, we put him back to bed and anticipated a long night ahead.

The night was alarmingly quiet. Joey left to cook for a rental group early in the morning, and I sat up and waited for Judah to wake up. He was up around 8 AM, and just as fevered as before. I set his breakfast before him and he stared at it for half an hour. He wasn't as grumpy as before, but still noticeably ill. We sat in the living room and read a Bible story, prayed together, and sang songs to Jesus. To my surprise, as I was singing Judah lifted up his voice in song, too - with no prodding. I cried tears of joy as we prayed one more time. His temperature began to swing up again, so I promptly gave him more medicine and put him to sleep.

When I got him up from his nap, he was drenched with sweat. I brought him into the living room, set him on the couch in front of the TV, and gave him some crackers and water, hoping to keep him relaxed as long as possible. The next time I checked his temperature, I was pleased to find that it had dropped into the 35 degree region - so much better than the 39.3 it had been the night before! God hears the prayers of His people, that's for sure!

I've said it before, I'll say it again: parenting is tough stuff. Tough, but so very good. Any strength I have comes from God - and He is so good to me. There's never been anything that has escaped his notice. 

gotta love the bumbo!

it's time to make a change

I wonder how long it will take me to get settled into this whole "stay-at-home-mom" role. The Cuteness is 20+ months old, and I still feel like I'm floundering. I can never seem to get my priorities straight. Am I supposed to be a playmate for him? Or a housekeeper? Or the cook? I feel like all three of those things are quite capable of taking up all of my time on their own. I have been completely unable to get into a routine. Wait, I think there was one time I felt like "things" (whatever that means) were going well. I had set up a weekly to-do list. It wasn't some big, minute-by-minute agenda, but a simple "Wednesday is bathroom cleaning day" type of deal. My problem is that I have sooooooooo many things I want to accomplish that I quickly get overwhelmed and end up accomplishing nothing. Not.One. Thing. It's terribly maddening.

So... perhaps it's time to implement the one-goal-a-day plan once again. I think it would help me be less overwhelmed and leave me with the feeling that, YES, I can get things done.

How about you, friends (especially of the SAHM variety)? What are your secrets for "success"?

And now I must end this because I have a very needy, clingy toddler whose entire world is in upheaval because I am not picking him up, and a baby that needs sustenance. We'll see how this goes...

and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us

I've been thinking a lot about Christmas. It's usually such a joyous time of the year, but I find myself both  excited and saddened as it approaches. I'm so sad to see a world that celebrates the fleeting things of life on a day where we should be praising the only thing that will last. It sickens me that things such as writing a wish list to Santa, spreading mythologies about flying reindeer that "save" Christmas, and kissing under mistletoe are all lumped together with the long awaited Messiah coming to earth as the God-Man. 

It isn't the whole "getting" thing that bothers me the most, though. I could give everything I have to the poor this Christmas and the sad state of the matter would stay the same. Unless I am honoring Christ as Lord, everything will just be done with the attitude that I can earn forgiveness, that I am worthy of salvation. I ask this: was Christmas ever about us? When did it become the most important thing to surround ourselves with beautiful things, hold our family close, stuff our faces with food, and expect to receive presents? I can't help but think of Mary, Joseph, and Jesus. Their surroundings were as beautiful as a soot-covered cave, layers upon layers of dung on the floor, and a bed of hay - probably well-used. No garlands, lighted trees, candles, tinsel, or shiny glass bulbs. They didn't gather their family around them in the safety of their home, but had to travel to a land they could hardly have known, all alone - and at the most vulnerable time of Mary's life. I can hardly imagine that a feast could be found in a "stable", especially in a city that was overcrowded for a heathen king's census. And, yet, God did not let the birth of His own son go unnoticed. He sent a whole chorus of angels to shout praises for a startled audience of a few shepherds watching their flocks by night. He set aflame a new, bright star in the heavens. Yes, Jesus came to save His people from their sins, but it was entirely HIS doing, not ours. I truly believe that Christmas started out as a celebration of the amazing thing God did (and is still doing), but the truth (and severity) of the matter has been buried under piles and piles of wrapping paper, sin, and guilt.

Here's what I think: we've made the act of celebration to be the very thing we celebrate. Instead of worshiping God with our actions, we worship ourselves by them. The reason we make our houses more beautiful than any time of the year should be to remember that long awaited day when the Messiah would come to earth. The reason we gather our families around should be to tell the wonderful news that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us. The reason we should celebrate with the very best that we have should not be to gratify our fleshly desires, but to give all to Him who gave all. 

I really don't know how to settle all these thoughts in my mind with the way things are now. I'm still decorating my house, but I'm putting a lot more thought into how I do it and what (if any) symbolism there is behind the things I do. I am still getting presents ready for those I love, but I am much more aware that it should be an outpouring of gratitude rather than simply to see the smiles on their faces. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with bringing joy to your children. What's wrong is when that overshadows a holy God sacrificing himself to keep his own righteous requirements. There is no greater cause to celebrate than that!

a three-month-old little Bundle

Dear little Bundle,

Today marks your third month of life - outside the womb, that is. Technically you're around one year old, but that would just throw everyone off! What a whirlwind three months it's been. You have changed from a curled up little snuggle muffin to quite the little boy! Yesterday, you caught hold of one of the rings dangling from your play mat, and you couldn't be more proud of yourself. It was quite the accomplishment.

What I love most about you is your goofy little grin. No matter how I'm feeling on a given day, you can always cheer my up by cracking a smile. You seem to find my faces and voice irresistible. I love love love that. I may not always be your favourite person in the world all your life, and that's ok because I am now.  That being said, these days are going way too fast.

You are quite the handsome little guy, just like your big brother. (I particularly like your peach-fuzzy head!) And speaking of your big brother, it's clear to me that you think he's the bees knees - even when he tries to force-feed you lettuce behind mommy's back. At least he cares, right?

Being your mama is at once wonderful and daunting. Everywhere I go, there you are looking up at me. Just like Judah. Sometimes I wonder how I'll ever bring you up properly... and then I remember God's grace to me. Oh, wow, am I ever thankful for that grace! I hope that every time you look up to me, you see past my bent to sin and see the God I love and serve. No matter what, looking up to Him will never leave you disappointed.

Side note: Look at those chubby baby thighs! Om nom nom!

Oh, little Bundle... Three months has felt like forever and no time at all. I am totally enamored with the blessing you are and the blessings that will come because you are in our lives. I love love love love love you.

full.

I'm sitting at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and watching the sun make it's gradual ascent, changing from pinky-orange, to yellow, to bright white. There's been a lot on my mind lately. The other day God revealed to me (all over again!) how great a salvation he has given me. I am awed by Jesus, fully man and fully God, who came to earth to be the suffering servant that would take away the sin of the world. He was mistreated, misunderstood, and abused for my sake. And yet, He went willingly. He died a gruesome death on a Roman cross and was buried in a rich man's tomb. Death's work was complete. And then, when all hope seemed lost, God raised Him from the dead. He was the perfect Lamb without blemish, offered for the sins of people who could not escape their own sin-nature, their own bent to oppose God. He came to the world to liberate all of mankind from the wages of sin - not just God's chosen people, the Jews, but all who would believe in His name. And, although what God accomplished in raising Him from the dead was not hidden from anyone's site, many refused to believe. Many still refuse to believe. Many would rather stay enslaved to their own sinful passions rather than embrace the Holy God who demands perfection, knows His people cannot attain it, and sent His Son to be perfection for them. His righteous requirements are filled in Him - in Jesus the Christ. Praise be to God! His name is majestic in all the earth!

I've been painfully aware of my shortcomings as a parent as of late. Before God was gracious to me and revealed how I had been rejecting His Son, I would get so overwhelmed by my bent to sin, my desire to lash out when things aren't going my way. I would not - could not - make myself trust in Christ's payment for my sin and rise above the mundane. Now that my eyes have been opened (again), I'm finding I can confess my sinful heart to God before I have sinned outwardly. "Lord, I know that every intent of my heart is only evil continually, and I thank you that Jesus's righteousness has been substituted for my own unrighteousness. Help me now to live as though I am not enslaved to sin, for it is no longer I that live but Christ who lives in me. Help me to live obediently as a service to you and an outpouring of my unending gratitude." In this way, I no longer trust in my own strength to bring God glory as a mother, but in Christ's strength through me.

See? My mind and heart are full. Thank you, Jesus!