perspective

The other night, after I vented about how sick we've all been, I went and read some articles from the True Woman 2010 Conference, and something in one of them pretty much knocked me over . . .

"Girls, the other day I met a gal who lives in my neighborhood. I didn’t know her, but one of our young moms came and picked me up and said, 'I can’t do this by myself. You’re going to have to go with me.' She had heard about this gal. Her name is Lynn. Lynn was diagnosed about two months ago with pancreatic cancer. She’s a young mother. She has a four-year-old and a seven-year-old. She has stage four pancreatic cancer. She does not have long to live.


So we went and just dropped in on Lynn and asked her if there was anything we could do for her, how we could pray for her. Do you know what she said? She said, 'I just never thought that I wouldn’t have any more time with my kids.'

Don’t blink because the days in which we live are precious. On the days when it’s hard, remember that none of us are guaranteed “X” number of days. We’re in transition as moms from the moment we bring that newborn home. Some of those changes we long for—we can’t wait for them to walk, or we can’t wait for them to talk, or to quit nursing, or to be able to buckle their own car seat."

I have been longing for and looking forward to some of these transitions since the day Lyndon was born, but the thought that I might not be around to see them has never even crossed my mind. This week, I longed for him to be old enough to find the toilet, or at least the sink, when he threw up, to be able to climb the stairs safely so I wouldn't have to stand behind him all the time, to take one long nap instead of two little ones, to go back to sleep in the middle of the night without crying for ten minutes, to stop being afraid of the vacuum cleaner and people blowing their noses, the list goes on.

And then I thought about not being around to see these moments. Depressing, I know, but, in many ways, realistic. God could choose any moment to take me home (or to take Lyndon home, for that matter), and I should try to live every day aware of that fact, because it's the truth. Then, even if I am allowed to watch him grow up and grow old, I will have savored the time. I can thank God for giving me every day that I had with him (and with Adrian, too, but I've been struggling much more with mothering than with um... wife-ing-- why is it that there's no verb form of that word-- lately).

So, no matter how much Lyndon gets sick this winter, no matter how many tantrums he throws or how many times I have to tell him 'no touch', no matter what he puts in his mouth or what comes out of his, ahem, other end, I will cherish every moment God gives me with my baby boy. I will love him fiercely but never forget that God loves him (and me!) with the kind of everlasting love that I can only dream of. He has good plans for the two of us, no matter how many days we get together.

Sick

Please pardon the temporary hiatus. Perhaps this will explain...

Last week, still in the wake of The Thanksgiving Stomach Bug, Lyndon, Adrian and I got colds. No big deal. Just a few runny noses.

And then Lyndon stopped sleeping. For three days. So we thought ear infection. But then he started getting better, so no doc visit. Just lots of TLC (and some Tylenol). Then I got worse, and Adrian came home early from work yesterday to take care of me. Some cough drops, tea, and the first good night's sleep in a week later (courtesy of Tylenol Cold PM), and I was fit as a fiddle. Lyndon was sleeping perfectly again and even starting to dry up a little. As of this afternoon, I thought we could finally see the light at the end of this tunnel of sickness.

And then Lyndon threw up. Three times.

*sigh* So it's off to the dr. tomorrow for my little guy. We don't know if the Plague has come back (please no, please no) or if it really is an ear infection messing with his balance. He just went to sleep-- miraculously-- after only 1/2 oz. of breastmilk, a fraction of what he normally gets before bed. And I have no idea what kind of night it will be from here on. But I do know that I'm already sick and tired of the Peterson family being sick and tired.

Is this how it is every winter for those of you with multiple children? Geez.

the view from here

Mustang does this all the time. When I finally get a chance to sit down and check my email, he decides that what I really should be doing is snuggling with the kitty.

 

So he lays down on my netbook.

Have you ever tried to use a track pad with a kitty sitting on it?

It is kind of sweet, though. I'm pretty sure he's purring in his sleep right now.

And to think, just yesterday I was wishing we had never adopted them.

happy cardmaking!

Hello all; it's been a while! Between the Thanksgiving holiday and "the plague" (read: stomach bug) that's been going around, we've been a bit busy. But now, we're back, just in time to tell you about a great deal! Shutterfly is giving away 50 free Christmas photo cards to bloggers willing to do a review of their products. Free Christmas cards? Sign me up!

This is our family's first time sending Christmas cards, and I wanted to do it right, so I've been shopping around for a few weeks now. The first thing I noticed about Shutterfly was their wide selection of card designs. There are literally hundreds of holiday cards to choose from, and almost all of them are really cute. You can sort them by size, number of photos, or color, which is really helpful, since I have very specific things in mind for our cards this year. Once I picked a few favorite designs, I started adding pictures from our holiday photo shoot. Shutterfly lets you collect up to 60 pictures per card, and you can swap them in and out just by dragging them across the screen. I could change my mind for days! Actually, I have been changing my mind and updating my cards for days now, because once you sign up for a (free) account, you can save your projects. I've been able to send my creations to my husband to get his opinion, then come back and make changes. It's been a lot of fun, and I think I have the final design nailed down now. (I'm not going to show it to you, because that would spoil the surprise. But I will show you some of my other favorites.)

I have a thing for brown, even though it isn't a "traditional" Christmas color.

I love the simplicity of this one, even though it looks like the son on the right was a little angry when they took the picture. :-P

Oh, and I almost forgot. Not only are we sending out Christmas cards from Shutterfly this year, we're also making photo calendars for a couple members of our family (who probably won't read this). And yep, Shutterfly does that, too. I've been having serious fun playing around with all the background and layout options. Hopefully, I'll be able to decide in time to get them by Christmas.

Happy cardmaking!

Disclaimer: Shutterfly compensated me for this post with 50 free Christmas cards. However, all my opinions are completely true.

giving kisses

In my last post, I mentioned that Lyndon is giving kisses. He does this mostly after I give him something he really wants and as we're saying goodnight. It's pretty much the sweetest thing ever and makes my heart want to explode every time. Fortunately, we managed to capture some of this adorableness on film recently.

Going in for the kill . . .

Mmmmmmmm........

.........wwwwah!

and the recovery.

Best. thing. ever.

growth charts, check-ups, and fear of man

I have "fear of man" issues. Just wanted to put that out there.

What is "fear of man," you ask? In his book, When People are Big and God is Small, Ed Welch (who is infinitely smarter and more qualified than I am) puts it this way:

"Fear in the biblical sense . . . extends to holding someone in awe, being controlled or mastered by people, worshiping other people, putting your trust in people, or needing people. The fear of man can be summarized this way: We replace God with people . . . When we are in our teens, it is called 'peer pressure.' When we are older, it is called 'people-pleasing.' Recently, it has been called 'codependency.'

I have a history of "fearing" other people, caring entirely too much about what they think of me. Generally, I either bend over backwards to fit in or declare myself a rebel and do everything differently just because it's different. If I fail at fitting in because I tried not to, then I didn't really fail, now did I? (I also have fear of failure and perfectionism issues, but that's a whole other post.)

I'm telling you all of this because, at regular intervals since becoming a parent, I've had to turn around and look my fear of man issues in the face. Maybe you've had this experience. They're called well-baby visits, otherwise known as check-ups.

Before every check-up that Lyndon has had, there has been some developmental or health issue that I have researched, freaked out over, worried about, tried to change (ever tried to teach a baby to roll over in 2 days?), and ultimately made myself (and sometimes him) miserable because I'm afraid it will reflect poorly on me as a parent. I'm afraid the doctor will judge me and think me a bad mom.

Lyndon has an appointment on Friday, and this one has been no exception. After comparing Lyndon to all the other babies around us (another sign of fear of man is comparing yourself to others), I have concluded that our child is horribly underweight and will probably be put on a strict regimen of formula supplements as soon as the doctor sees him, that is, if I'm allowed to keep him, seeing as how I'm clearly starving my child.

Nevermind that, according to the WHO growth charts, he is actually a perfectly healthy weight and height given the size of his parents (I'm 5'1" and 100 lbs. soaking wet) and that a significant percentage of the babies we know are actually above the 50th percentile for weight (some waaaay above it). Nevermind that he's obviously happy and healthy: developing perfectly, sleeping well, crawling, learning sign language, giving kisses. Nevermind all this. The doctor clearly exists to pass judgment on my parenting skills, and these appointments are obviously all about me and my skills.

Whoops. Did I say that out loud? See, that's the thing about fear of man. It seems so humble, almost self-deprecating. You think you're terrible and worse than everyone else? Clearly, you need some self-esteem. But, actually, it's a form of pride. All interactions with others are about me . . . either validating me and making me feel better about myself or confirming how terrible I really am. Instead of loving people like Jesus did, I'm using them. What if, instead of worrying about my precious reputation (to a doctor I see once every few months), I concentrated on listening to her advice and asking her good questions? How much more would that benefit her and my son? What if my goal in all of this was to love like Jesus, first my family (Lyndon and Adrian), then others (my doc and her office-mates)? How radical would that be? And how radically different would the week before a check-up look?

first Halloween costume

Soon after Lyndon was born, I announced that he was going to be Harry Potter for Halloween, as he had a head full of untidy black hair and would only need some blue pajamas and maybe a painted-on scar. As the holiday approached, however, his hair began to lighten. It's now a soft, light brown, and he doesn't look like Harry at all. *sigh*

That meant I actually had to come up with a creative, cheap, easy, comfortable costume for a crawling 9 month-old. Um, yeah.

It came to me one night when I was asking my husband, yet again, if he had any ideas. I said something along the lines of, "He army crawls everywhere, so he has to really be able to move in his costume; otherwise, either he'll be miserable or it'll be ruined." Wait... he army crawls? Ah ha!

That's right. I dressed him in camo (most of which he already had), bought a hat, borrowed some socks, and painted his cheeks. Army ranger, anyone?

Some action shots:

He went after a really manly monster truck, which was perfect.

 I think he kind of looks like a cat in this one.

Lyndon had a lovely first Halloween.

Lyndon loves the piano

Alternately titled: "I did not put him in here, either."

Crawling under the piano bench is very fun . . .

especially if you can touch the underside of it.

Hmmm, inside his exersaucer. Under the piano bench. I think I'm seeing a pattern here. He's not just crawling. He's adventuring. And I'm so glad I can let him. At the daycare I worked at, we weren't allowed to let the children crawl under anything except the playground equipment specifically made for it. I understand why (what if it collapsed?), but it makes me even more thankful that I get to stay home with him and make my own rules. He's testing his skills, developing his abilities and getting to know his body, and all it took was a piano bench and a hand-me-down toy.

I did not put him here.

Yep. He climbed into the belly of his exersaucer, and he looks pretty proud of himself for it.

Apparently, it was quite fun in there.

He did succeed in climbing out again all on his own . . . which is probably why he's done it half a dozen more times since these were taken.

field trip to Filasky's

On Friday, our play group went to Filasky's Farm for a hayride and some pumpkin picking. It was a lovely time, despite the October chill.

First, we learned where pumpkins come from. Did you know it takes 100 days to grow a pumpkin?

Ethan was pretty pumped about the inflatable slide. It did look pretty fun, although I guess I'm too old for things like that. :-(

Say 'hi' to the scarecrows!

This was a cute idea. The signposts had questions on them, like, "What should you do when your teacher asks a question?" or "How many times a day should you brush your teeth?" The right answer took you through the maze, while the wrong one led you to a dead end. One of our older boys ran ahead and pretty much took us all through.

wandering through the soybeans

This brother and sister pair really enjoyed the hayride . . .

as did these guys.

This little guy was so cute, I had to get a few pictures of him. He was pretty much in awe of everything, especially the tractors.

a good-sized pumpkin patch

I totally embraced babywearing for the day and have decided I'd like to do it more often.

It was a lovely morning.

Aaaand he's off!

Lyndon started crawling about 2 weeks ago, but he really started to get the hang of it this week. His favorite is the army crawl, which is fast enough to satisfy his curiosity, but slow enough for me to stay one step ahead of him (most of the time).

He can now finally torture the cats to his heart's delight. They're still significantly faster than him and will be . . . probably forever, which is fine with me. The less threatened they feel, the less chance we have of them taking a claw-filled swipe at him. You can see the claws come out for a moment on this one, but Ferrari listens pretty well when told to "be nice".

Our little one is exploring his world, and I love it!

happy birthday, er, sort of

Tuesday was Adrian's 25th birthday, and we were both determined to have a great evening together, just the 3 of us. Do you ever find that when you most want an evening to go well, it all falls apart?

Yeah. Me neither.

Lest I be accused of (more) complaining, I'll give you the cliffs notes version: Lyndon refused to eat, which made him cranky; I had to tend to him in the middle of making Adrian's special birthday dinner, which he had to finish making himself; we went searching in vain for Adrian's birthday present, which apparently is sold out everywhere; Lyndon screamed the whole way home; by the end of the night, both of us had upset stomachs.

But the point of this post isn't to feel sorry for myself. The point is to praise my husband and his attitude. At several points throughout the night, when I lamented or felt guilty about how the evening was going, Adrian would say something along the lines of, "it's only a disaster if we think it's a disaster". On the ride home, he said (over Lyndon's wailing), "This is my life now, and I can either complain about it and wish it was different, or I can love it and make the best of it." And he said it with a genuine smile on his face. There was no bitterness or regret at having his one special day "spoiled" by annoying circumstances.

We've called Lyndon our little "idol killer" since before he was born, but I had no idea how much he had pushed Adrian to grow until last night. His attitude now is so different from his attitude even a few months ago. He's actually glad to have his life turned upside-down now for the sake of his family. So, as we sang Glee songs together on the way home (because they made Lyndon stop crying), I thanked God for my wonderful husband who (by God's grace) is turning into a wonderful daddy.

Happy 25th birthday, sweetie. I love you.

channeling Justin Bieber

At Lyndon's dedication the other day, his Aunt Christina said he had the "Justin Bieber look". I just laughed, as I am completely ignorant of pop culture and had no idea what the "Justin Bieber look" entails. Then, just out of curiosity, I looked it up, and she's right. We are definitely channeling Justin Bieber around here.

The original:

and our little one:

Any tips on how to cut an 8 month-old's bangs would be appreciated. It was a disaster the last time I had to do it. Oy vey.

another amazing weekend, part 2

two more people I've known since either I or they were 11

the birthday girl's brother, taking charge of the situation

I couldn't resist.

Did I mention how *ahem* colorful my friends were in my younger days?

No? Well, I did now. (And only one of them has had more than one drink.)

Bagpipes, and drummers, and fiddlers, oh my!

They call themselves The Rogues, and they're kind of a big deal.

What an amazing day!

another amazing weekend, part 1

alternately titled: happy birthday, woman!

That picture I posted is from the Maryland Renaissance Festival. I ran away for the day on Saturday to celebrate the 21st birthday of one very special friend.

She and I have known each other since we were 8 and 11, respectively. We've shared late-night talks, tears and laughter. We consumed Mountain Dew, hummus and cucumbers at midnight. We dyed my hair and performed Shakespeare. And then we went to college . . . and, until Saturday, I hadn't seen her in 2 years.

But, somehow, we seemed to pick up right where we left off.

It's ironic that, right after a post on unity, I should feel so close to an agnostic who dabbled in Buddhism. I think it helps that we've always been honest with each other and had each other's best interests at heart. We've been able to disagree respectfully and unafraid to discuss our differences. We've always tried to understand each other. And, it helps that we share a mutual love for things like the Renaissance Festival. We were both wearing corset bodices with our jeans in the above picture. We got caught up in The Lord of the Rings frenzy at the same time and laughed at Shakespeare's double entendres together. (And we still do.)

She is an amazing person and an amazing friend that I feel privileged to have spent the day with. (And, because I now know that she only lives about an hour from me, Lyndon and I will be visiting her regularly.)

Happy 21st birthday, woman! MWAH!

guess where I went this weekend!

Any guesses? I'll let you know soon! :-)

our awesome weekend, part 2

Some thoughts from this weekend...

The pastor at the shoutin' Presbyterian church (oh, the irony) we attended on Sunday preached on unity, and, despite diaper blowouts and hungry babies, we managed to get the gist of his message. (I think it helped that there were two of us.)

He spent a lot of time telling us what unity should not look like. He said that we should not pursue spiritual unity simply because unity feels good (and is all the rage), attempting to unify ourselves with those who disagree with us on important doctrinal issues. For example, a group in my college town wanted all the churches, temples, worship centers, etc., along with their pastors, preachers, elders, and rabbis to come together and form a unified "faith community". Biblically, that's a bad idea. If I believe that Jesus is the only way to Heaven, and you believe that He isn't, then I shouldn't just shut up for the sake of unity, because I would be watching you go to Hell, and that's not very loving, now is it? (Neither should I beat you over the head with my Bible. Again, not very loving.)

This does not mean that I can't understand, respect, or befriend those who believe radically different things from me, just that I can't be unified with these people. As Mark Driscoll is fond of saying, "we're not going to wear matching sweatshirts and ride a tandem bike". My best and closest friends are always going to be those with whom I agree on big, important issues (like why we're here, who God is, what has value in this life, etc.). As long as those fall into place, we can disagree about all kinds of things and still have a close, unified relationship.

This weekend was an exercise in this kind of relationship. The friend I stayed with and I disagree about infant baptism, the miraculous gifts of the Spirit, church government, attachment parenting, on-demand feeding... and that's the short list. I'm sure we could come up with a lot more if you gave us some time. Yet, I can and did experience unity and fellowship this weekend, made possible because we agree on the most important thing: the gospel. We agree about who Jesus is and who we are. And, really, that's all that's necessary for unity.

our awesome weekend, part 1

Lyndon and I got to hang out with a friend from college and her little girl this weekend. The boys (Adrian and my friend's husband) went camping, and the four of us stayed at their place. It was a fantastic weekend, but, alas, I forgot to bring my camera to most of it. We went to an open-air concert a few blocks away from their house (sadly, no pictures!), scored some Goodwill bargains, and visited the most raucous Presbyterian church I've ever seen.

The boys, meanwhile, hiked over 7 miles in 2 days, climbed a mountain, fell asleep on the beach, and made a Catholic pilgrimage (again, no pictures!). And no, they're not Catholic.

Let me just say how much fun it was to "play college" again. Yes, this time we had babies. But we got a chance to experience life together-- eating, laughing, talking, staying up late-- just the way we used to. We made tea and swapped advice, this time about parenting and marriage. It was lovely, and I hope to do it more often.

And then we took a group picture... or, rather, attempted to take a group picture...

Take 1...

 Take 2...

Take 398...

Finally, everyone held still long enough! (and we turned on the flash)

It was a lovely weekend. :-)

Lyndon bonds with his aunt, nana and pop-pop

We went to a family barbecue this weekend, and Lyndon spent some quality time with his extended family. First, he bonded with his Aunt Christina by doing one of her favorite things . . . texting.

It's a testament to her love for him that she let him have her phone in the first place, although he can be pretty convincing. To say that he loves cell phones is putting it mildly. He had a full-blown meltdown (tears and everything) the other day because I was talking on mine in front of him, and I wouldn't let him have it.

He also explored the grounds a little with his Pop-Pop. . .

I love taking him to places with big, old trees and lots of soft grass because he's so enthralled by it all. It's completely different from anything we have around here. I think he examined every leaf on that tree that he could reach.

Then his Nana put him on a folding chair, and we all held our breath, waiting for him to topple over. . .

He, of course, loved being unstable and wobbly.

It was a lovely day, filled with food, friends, family, and a nap-free afternoon. Happy Labor Day everyone!