Seth at 9 months...

Seth is 9 months old. Sigh. We went to get him some new clothes yesterday. Boy, lemme tell ya, I have expensive taste. =) We to the local outlet mall to try and score some deals, but it was still pricier than I'd like. I have an addiction to Gymboree stuff, but hey, I only got him a few pieces at outlet prices, and I know from experience that they wear well. As you can tell from this picture, the 6-9 month stuff is getting too short. He's tall!

I'm loving the little person that he's becoming. I thought I loved the tiny baby stage, and I did, but I have to admit that those of you who told me that the bigger baby stage was still great were right. He is a squealing, yelling, laughing, pointing, writhing machine at this point, and I love it.

He's eating baby food right now, and he'll eat variety I put in front of him. Oatmeal cereal with bananas is about the only thing he seems to have a preference for. We tried Cheerios to see if he'd be into finger foods, but no dice for the longest time. He'd just gang and spit them out. Or he'd throw up. That lowered my incentive for pushing things. The past couple of weeks, though, he's been eating Cheerios like a champ. We put him in his high chair, and he sits there while we eat and happily attempts to get those little O's from his tray to his mouth. I think maybe 5 go in per meal, and the other 30 end up on the floor or in his chair, but hey, who's counting? =)

I'm beginning to wonder if Seth will be the Incredible Toothless 30-year-old. Maybe I'll be blending his lasagna when he's in high school, but I hope not. He has still shown nary a sign of a tooth. I don't know what to think, but hey, if teething will make him cranky and sleepless, I'll just embrace this gift for now. He also has zero interest in increased mobility. He loves to sit on the floor and play with the toys around him, but if one rolls out of his reach, he just gives up and sucks his thumb. He still hates tummy time with a passion, but I discovered a couple of days ago that he's willing to do it for 5 minutes if he's on the kitchen floor. Maybe it helps him slide better?

Seth LOVES his daddy, and I love watching that. When David comes in the door, his whole face lights up in a huge grin. He squeals and lifts up his arms to be taken. I have been paying attention, and no other person gets this reaction when they appear, except for maybe me. Yesterday, we were standing by the door watching David get out of the car. He went up to the curb to get the trash can, and Seth spotted him. He yelled in delight and pointed. It was great! Well, David does deserve the best daddy on the planet award. I certainly can't blame Seth for being super excited to see the man who takes him everywhere with him, gives him all sorts of things to play with that Mommy won't let him touch, and reads him books for a half an hour every single night.

Seth and I have a new game that we've had for the past few weeks. I put him in his chair on the table, and I go over to the counter to mix his cereal. He gives a short, loud yell, and I pretend to be startled and turn around. He gives me a slow, sly grin. I turn around to keep mixing, and he yells again. We keep this up until I'm done mixing his cereal. We both think it's a lot of fun.

The only people still reading this may be Seth's grandparents, but I just thought I'd share.

A handful of grain...

1 Kings 17

7 Some time later the brook dried up because there had been no rain in the land. 8 Then the word of the LORD came to him: 9 "Go at once to Zarephath of Sidon and stay there. I have commanded a widow in that place to supply you with food." 10 So he went to Zarephath. When he came to the town gate, a widow was there gathering sticks. He called to her and asked, "Would you bring me a little water in a jar so I may have a drink?" 11 As she was going to get it, he called, "And bring me, please, a piece of bread."

12 "As surely as the LORD your God lives," she replied, "I don't have any bread—only a handful of flour in a jar and a little oil in a jug. I am gathering a few sticks to take home and make a meal for myself and my son, that we may eat it—and die."

13 Elijah said to her, "Don't be afraid. Go home and do as you have said. But first make a small cake of bread for me from what you have and bring it to me, and then make something for yourself and your son. 14 For this is what the LORD, the God of Israel, says: 'The jar of flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the LORD gives rain on the land.' " 15 She went away and did as Elijah had told her. So there was food every day for Elijah and for the woman and her family. 16 For the jar of flour was not used up and the jug of oil did not run dry, in keeping with the word of the LORD spoken by Elijah.

17 Some time later the son of the woman who owned the house became ill. He grew worse and worse, and finally stopped breathing. 18 She said to Elijah, "What do you have against me, man of God? Did you come to remind me of my sin and kill my son?"

19 "Give me your son," Elijah replied. He took him from her arms, carried him to the upper room where he was staying, and laid him on his bed. 20 Then he cried out to the LORD, "O LORD my God, have you brought tragedy also upon this widow I am staying with, by causing her son to die?" 21 Then he stretched himself out on the boy three times and cried to the LORD, "O LORD my God, let this boy's life return to him!" 22 The LORD heard Elijah's cry, and the boy's life returned to him, and he lived. 23 Elijah picked up the child and carried him down from the room into the house. He gave him to his mother and said, "Look, your son is alive!"

24 Then the woman said to Elijah, "Now I know that you are a man of God and that the word of the LORD from your mouth is the truth."

Today I'd like to look at the Widow of Zerephath. She's a very interesting figure to me, a figure on whom God poured down incredible mercy. When the brook had dried up, God told Elijah to go to Zerephath in Sidon because there would be a widow there to give him food. What God doesn't tell him is that she doesn't have much food to give.

Zerephath is in Sidon, and Sidon is not in Israel. This widow is a Gentile. In fact, she lives in the center of the worst Baal worship. Jezebel was from this area, and her father, a big Baal worshipper, ruled it. Interestingly enough, God sends his prophet straight into the mouth of the lion. He also doesn't send his prophet to an Israelite who knows His name. He does, however, send Elijah to a woman who is in great need.

This widow has probably been affected horribly by the drought. Her husband is gone, and she is left alone to provide for her young son. Day after day, conditions have gotten worse for them, and she is despairing of her ability to keep going. She probably sits in the corner, watching her son, seeing him getting thinner and thinner day by day. And I'll bet her heart breaks a little more all the time. He is all she has left. He is her treasure.

She resigns herself to the fact that they will both die of starvation. In quiet desparation, she goes out to gather sticks to make their last meal. And then God shows up. He was always there. He saw her desperation, and He had a plan. Even though she doesn't know Him, He sees her. He knows that she will respond to Him, and He sends Elijah to her to show her His power and incredible mercy.

When Elijah sees her, he asks her to bring him some water. Water! In a drought parched land! And if that doesn't seem audacious enough, then he asks her to bring him a little bit of bread. She tells him that she only has enough for her and her son to eat as a last meal. It will give out, and then they will die. The Hebrew says that the widow only had a handful of grain. It would've been barely enough to make one small cake of bread. But Elijah asks her to make a cake for him first, and then tells her that there will be enough left over for her and her son to eat. He makes the incredible promise that God will supply enough bread and oil for them to eat until the drought is over.

And the widow does what he asks. Do you have any idea what kind of faith that must've taken? I am in total awe of it. I don't know that I have that much faith. I put myself in her shoes, and I'm not sure that I would take that kind of gamble, when it came to be crunch time. I hope I would. If I had a stranger standing before me, and I had to choose between giving him and giving Seth my last morsel of food, I think I'd probably give it to Seth. I would do anything to save his life. I don't know that I would've believed Elijah's promise. But she did, and her leap of faith was so great that Jesus comments on it. This is what he says in Luke 4: 25-26:

25 I assure you that there were many widows in Israel in Elijah's time, when the sky was shut for three and a half years and there was a severe famine throughout the land. 26 Yet Elijah was not sent to any of them, but to a widow in Zarephath in the region of Sidon.

God did not send his prophet to the widows of Israel because they would not have faith in the God he represented. But this widow did have faith. She believed that the Lord, Elijah's God, lived. She staked her all on the Lord, and He proved faithful. I want that kind of faith. If she had that kind of faith when she didn't know God, and she hadn't seen His work in her life, then what excuse do I have for doubting Him when he has worked so powerfully in my life, time and time again? Lord, help me to trust you with everything precious to me... my daily needs, my beloved child, with everything. You have proven faithful; help me to trust You.

1st Annual Fall Party...

Last year, friends of ours in Fairfax hosted a fall party. They had a fire in the fireplace, candles lit all over the house, and warm soup and bread. We carved pumpkins in their backyard, and we had a blast. Even though we didn't know many people there, there was something about the atmosphere and the carving activity that made it relaxing and fun.

I wanted to recreate something like that atmosphere when we had our own backyard. I decided that this was the year for our 1st Annual Fall Party!! So, we had it this Saturday from 4:00- the stars gleamed in the sky, and the fire blazed bright in the firepit. =) We had about 20 people in our little house! Mom came up on Friday to help me with Seth so I could make two pots of soup. She brought her homemade chicken noodle soup to offer, and in one afternoon of furious chopping and boiling, I made minestrone and potato. Despite a minor disaster when I tried to move a fridge shelf and the potato soup pot spilled all through the fridge, Mom and I had a good time hanging out. David came home to a baby banging a cup on the floor, surrounded by fridge shelves, with his mother-in-law scrubbing soup out of every nook and cranny of the aforementioned appliance. Ugh.

Saturday was party prep day. Dad sucessfully avoided it by taking most of the day to load firewood back home on the farm. =) Love you, Daddy. Around here, Mom was baking up fresh bread, both Italian and butter rich bread. We were sweeping, cleaning, and setting up tables. We put out three crockpots for all the soup, got some last minute appetizers from the store, and baked a pumpkin pie. A borrowed table arrived from new friends by 3:00 p.m. I placed pumpkins everywhere for maximum fall decorative affect. We even strung up white Christmas lights all around the inside of the screened porch. The hooks that were already there for old blinds helped that process tremendously. They look great! David put together the new Walmert fire pit, and we were ready to go! Honestly, I think the planning for a party can be almost as much fun as the party itself. The house and yard become transformed and festive. They look like they're anticipating the fun almost as much as I was.

David wanted to put his own special mark on the festivities, so he dug up some fall colored balloons from our "kids visiting us" drawer. Seth got his own little one to play with, so he was happy to "help" Daddy with the process. =) Don't they look nice on our mailbox?

It has poured here for the past week. Each day, I nervously checked weather.com, praying that the forecast would call for clear skies by Saturday afternoon. It rained and rained and rained. We desperately need the rain, don't get me wrong, but I just wanted a short window when it would stop. It did, and it was a beautiful afternoon. The sun came out and everything! God is awfully good to me. But the yard was pretty squishy. This huge deck was our saving grace. I am so thankful to the owners of this place for adding a huge deck and screened in porch sometime in the last several years. All of us could fit easily on the deck and porch. Here are some of the party crew, catching up at our borrowed table and and sitting in Mom and Dad's borrowed lawn chairs. Have I mentioned that I can't seem to do anything big these days without borrowing half of my parent's house? =)

After dinner was over, we made the crew clear off the table for carving. Matt (in this picture) was the carving ringleader. He's competitive about his carving, and he got everybody else excited about it. It was nice to have him lead this activity. All told, 4 pumpkins were carved in a collaborative effort by different groups.

Don't they look great?! The one on the far right is our pumpkin. I traced the design, and David did the carving work. It's amazing the number of patterns you can get off the internet for free. I printed off a ton of free pumpkin patterns, and I provided markers and tissue paper for tracing. Some people brought knives, and we all shared those and scooping spoons. You really don't need anything specialized to carve pumpkins, but you do need some small pillar candles for lighting them up. Tapers just won't work; I tried.

You may not be able to see the people in this picture. You can click on it and try, though. =) After the carving was done, we went on to making s'mores by the campfire. One of the nice things about having a variety of types of friends in this area is that some can stay longer at a party, even if some have to leave earlier. We have some old college friends who live nearby, and they came, and then we have some newer friends with young children that we have met through MOPs or churches, etc. The ones with kids have to leave earlier, of course, but the singles and marrieds without kids can stick around longer. All the groups, in all stages of life, seemed to get along well. I was thrilled to see how well everyone seemd to mix, since I'd been a little worried about that. The last group of friends left about 10:00 p.m., and I was a little sad to see them go. As I went to bed, I felt so blessed. There have been times in our life together when we've worked really hard to be hospitable and have parties, and it just didn't work well. We felt discouraged and sad, and it was hard to keep trying. I am so thankful that this first party in our new home went so well. It's such a blessing and an encouragement. I'm loving it here!

When the brook dries up...

1 Kings 17

1 Now Elijah the Tishbite, from Tishbe in Gilead, said to Ahab, "As the LORD, the God of Israel, lives, whom I serve, there will be neither dew nor rain in the next few years except at my word." 2 Then the word of the LORD came to Elijah: 3 "Leave here, turn eastward and hide in the Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan. 4 You will drink from the brook, and I have ordered the ravens to feed you there." 5 So he did what the LORD had told him. He went to the Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan, and stayed there. 6 The ravens brought him bread and meat in the morning and bread and meat in the evening, and he drank from the brook.

7 Some time later the brook dried up because there had been no rain in the land. 8 Then the word of the LORD came to him: 9 "Go at once to Zarephath of Sidon and stay there. I have commanded a widow in that place to supply you with food."

My CBS study this week was on this passage in 1 Kings, and it really spoke to me, so I thought I'd share some of the things I've learned with you. King Ahab was one of the wickedest kings that Israel ever saw. He pumped up the Baal worship to unheard of levels, and he married the queen of Baal worship herself, the infamous Jezebel. If you worshipped Baal, you believed that he made everything fertile. You believed that he provided the rain from heaven to make your crops grow. Into this scene, seemingly from nowhere, steps the prophet Elijah. He has the audacity to claim that the Hebrew God that everyone has been ignoring is the only one that can bring rain, and he promises to prove it. He says that he won't be asking God for any rain, and if he doesn't ask, it won't come. He then promptly goes into hiding, at God's command. Smart.

Alone at the Brook Kerith, I imagine that the Prophet Elijah learned a lot about himself and about the God that he served. Day after day, he probably saw no one. He had lots of time alone with God. Each day, he saw the scenery that God provided, and I'm betting that that was a constant reminder of His creator. No tv, no juicy gossip, no vacations, no great praise music even. No distractions. Into this God shaped silence, his other major reminder of God came each day. God provided food, and he did it in a very unlikely way. He sent ravens to bring it. Now this is laughable, if you know anything about ravens. Ravens barely take care of their own young. Ravens are scavengers. They're more likely to eat you or steal your food than bring you anything to eat. But yet, they brought it. Things were going ok... and then the brook started to dry up.

When Elijah promised to deliver God's message and be a part of God's plan for divine drought, he signed on to a process that wouldn't just bring hurt to an unrepentant people. Their sin affected him. Personally. In the form of a brook that dried up. His water supply was also in peril. And though he saw God provide for him each and every day in the form of raven-brought food, I wonder how he felt when he saw the waters receding day by day. Maybe at first he thought, "Ok, I've still got enough. I'm good." The next day, the water went a little lower. Maybe fear started to gnaw at his heart. Maybe he thought, "Surely God has a back up plan here. I'm sure he'll tell me where to go next before the brook dries up." Another day goes by, and the brook is becoming a muddy puddle...

I wonder how he felt. Notice that God doesn't tell him what to do next until the brook is completely dry. How many times in my own life have I been sitting beside a completely dry brook, staring up at the sky, saying, "God, I'd really appreciate some direction here."? How many times have you? God doesn't give Elijah a new direction to head until long past when he's probably ready for it. Maybe, despite the fact that he's seen God's provision for him daily up to this point, just maybe, he's beginning to doubt that God will take care of him. After all, the biggest thing in his current line of sight in a dried up brook. James tells us that Elijah had a nature just like ours, and this is a comfort to me. Maybe I'm not alone when I doubt because all I can see in front of me is a dusty hole.

What's your dried up brook? I've had several dried brooks, some more dry than others. They come in lots of forms. A few of mine came in the forms of repeated and unwelcome change, infertility, and unexplained health problems. Everybody has them, and if you don't now, you will. And when they come, though it's hard, we need to look up at the ravens. Look up at those heaven sent birds, and look away from that dusty ground.

True preparation for parenting...

This is for all you girls out there who are expecting your first child. I shamelessly stole this from www.girltalk.blogs.com. I thought it was hilarious, and unfortunately, bore too much resemblance to reality.

Preparation for parenthood...

It's not just a matter of reading books and decorating the nursery. Here are 12 simple tests for expectant parents to take to prepare themselves for the real-life experience of being a mother or father.

1. Women: To prepare for maternity, put on a dressing gown and stick a pillowcase filled with beans down the front. Leave it there for 9 months. After 9 months, take out 10% of the beans.
Men: To prepare for paternity, go to the local drug store, tip the contents of your wallet on the counter, and tell the pharmacist to help himself. Then go to the supermarket. Arrange to have your salary paid directly to their head office. Go home. Pick up the paper. Read it for the last time.

2. Before you finally go ahead and have children, find a couple who are already parents and berate them about their methods of discipline, lack of patience, appallingly low tolerance levels, and how they have allowed their children to run wild. Suggest ways in which they might improve their child's sleeping habits, toilet training, table manners, and overall behavior. Enjoy it -- it'll be the last time in your life that you will have all the answers.

3. To discover how the nights will feel, walk around the living room from 5 pm to 10 pm carrying a wet bag weighing approximately 8-12 pounds, with a radio turned to static (or some other obnoxious noise) playing loudly. At 10 pm, put the bag down, set the alarm for midnight, and go to sleep. Get up at 12 and walk around the living room again, with the bag, until 1 am. Put the alarm on for 3 am. As you can't get back to sleep, get up at 2 am and make a drink. Go to bed at 2:45 am. Get up again at 3 am when the alarm goes off. Sing songs in the dark until 4 am. Put the alarm on for 5 am. Get up. Make breakfast. Keep this up for 5 years.

4. Can you stand the mess children make? To find out, first smear peanut butter onto the sofa and jam onto the curtains. Hide a piece of raw chicken behind the stereo and leave it there all summer. Stick your fingers in the flower beds, then rub them on the clean walls. Cover the stains with crayons. How does that look?

5. Dressing small children is not as easy as it seems: first buy an octopus and a bag made out of loose mesh. Attempt to put the octopus into the bag so that none of the arms hang out. Time allowed for this: all morning.

6. Take an egg carton, using a pair of scissors and a pot of paint, turn it into an alligator. Now take the tube from a roll of toilet paper. Using only Scotch tape and a piece of foil, turn it into an attractive Christmas candle. Last, take a milk carton, a ping pong ball, and an empty packet of Cocoa Pops and make an exact replica of the Eiffel Tower. Congratulations! You have just qualified for a place on the play group committee.

7. Forget the BMW and buy a mini-van. And don't think that you can leave it out in the driveway spotless and shining. Family cars don't look like that. Buy a chocolate ice cream cone and put it in the glove compartment. Leave it there. Get a dime. Stick it in the cd player. Take a family-size package of chocolate cookies. Mash them into the back seats. Run a garden rake along both sides of the car. There. Perfect.

8. Get ready to go out. Wait outside the bathroom for half an hour. Go out the front door. Come in again. Go out. Come back in. Go out again. Walk down the front path. Walk back up it. Walk down it again. Walk very slowly down the road for 5 minutes. Stop to inspect minutely every piece of used chewing gum, dirty tissue, and dead insect along the way. Retrace your steps. Scream that you've had as much as you can stand until the neighbors come out and stare at you. Give up and go back into the house. You are now just about ready to try taking a small child for a walk.

9. Always repeat everything you say at least five times.

10. Go to your local supermarket. Take with you the nearest thing you can find to a preschool child -- a fully-grown goat is excellent. If you intend to have more than one child, take more than one goat. Buy your week's groceries without letting the goats out of your sight. Pay for everything the goats eat or destroy. Until you can easily accomplish this, do not even contemplate having children.

11. Hollow out a melon. Make a small hole in the side. Suspend it from the ceiling and swing it from side to side. Now get a bowl of soggy Cheerios and attempt to spoon them into the swaying melon by pretending to be an airplane. Continue until half the Cheerios are gone. Tip the rest into your lap, making sure a lot of it falls on the floor. You are now ready to feed a 12-month-old baby. (This is how it feels to feed Seth these days, except imagine that the melon keeps falling off the table or suddenly falling over backwards.)

12. Learn the names of every character from Thomas the Train, Dora the Explorer, and the Wiggles.

It's raining...

I'm soo excited about the rain! It's been pouring since this morning, and the air feels so cool and fresh. We've been in a drought for so long... all our grass in the front yard died. A plus to that was that David had to mow it, oh, about once a month. But it's still sad looking. My poor hanging plants couldn't take the heat, so until recently, they looked like they were clinging to life by a thread. Since the weather's gotten cooler, they've bloomed! I was this close to sending them to that great garden in the sky.

An observation on television... Ever since Seth has been born, I've stopped watching much tv. I don't know; something about the content kind of assaulted my senses in those early days and made an impression. I felt protective of my tiny wee one, and his tiny ears, and things that I didn't notice before offended the Mama Bear in me. So I stopped watching the occasional show or the news during lunch. Gradually, I stopped watching any tv at all during the day. Once we moved here, it was even easier to ignore for some reason. Our tv is behind closed doors in a corner wood cabinet, and since it's out of sight, it's really been out of mind. When Seth naps, sometimes I read, once I've gotten things done. I'm glad that I really can do without tv. I think it's a blessing that God has given me that it's been relatively easy to give up lately. Now, my internet addiction is another story...

But this morning, Seth and I went to get the Honda seatbelt fixed. We were sitting in the waiting room, and the tv in the corner was on. At first, it was on a morning news show. No biggy. Then Dr. Phall came on, and he was talking about s**u*al deviency. It was disgusting. And the longer he talked, the more stressed out I got. I was offended, and I can't remember being really offended by tv programming in awhile. I have gotten sensitized to it. Eventually, I had the guts to ask if anyone was watching, and when they said they weren't, I cut it off! I thought this was really interesting. Today I noticed the desensitizing nature of tv for the first time in a long time, and it was eye opening. I want to be more careful about what I watch, and I'm thankful that God is convicting my heart and making me feel cruddy when I see or hear something that I really shouldn't. I don't know if anyone else out there has noticed this same thing after a tv fast of any kind, but I'd be curious to see if your experience was similar...

Now that Seth is older, and he's napping more regularly, I've had a little more time to read. And I'm really enjoying being able to take advantage of this time. I know that it's fleeting, and I'm sure it will end all too soon once my baby boy starts getting more active. At the moment, I'm rediscovering some of my favorite authors. One of them is Willa Cather. I have read many of her works. My favorite has to be My Antonia. Her writing style is simple and strong. It reminds me a little of Ernest Hemingway. You can tell that she loves the wildness of nature, especially that of the Midwest. Her descriptive powers are amazing. When she talks about the harsh, proud, unyielding soil of the prairie, and how it breaks a man down and builds him back up, I feel something unnameable rise up in me. For years, it can break a man's heart and steal his blood and sweat, but then one day, it will open it's heart to him, and it will burst forth with hard won bounty to bless his days. I can't do her writing justice, but I recommend that you pick up My Antonia to start and then move on to O Pioneers. Happy rainy day reading!

My awesome Contours Lite stroller...

*** UPDATE on April 10, 2008: I have now had the stroller for about six months. I was using it today, and I realized I should update this post because I really do love it even more than I did in the beginning. It still steers one handed like a dream, is so conveniently light at 12.5 pounds?, and I have stuffed tons of stuff in that huge basket. I've even become proud of the bright green! =) I had a chance to trade with another gal for the red one, and I turned it down. Will wonders never cease. Anyway, after plenty of use, this is still a fantastic lightweight stroller. ****

Ok, I posted awhile back about hunting for the perfect stroller for everyday use. It's been a long, frustrating hunt, but I think I've found it! I was browsing through a website, and I ran across this... the Contours Lite Stroller Plus. I was captivated, and I wanted to get my hands on it. But my darling husband was sceptical, so, on a whim, I emailed Kolcraft, shamelessly begged for it in exchange for a blog review, and shock of all shocks, they actually sent me one! I know that plenty of mommy bloggers write product reviews, so that's where I got the idea to ask. I never thought that would work, since I'd never tried it before, but who knew? Anyway, it's as great as I thought it would be when I first saw it online. This is my HONEST review, and that's all I promised them.

Here's my beef with most lightweight strollers... Brands like Macracken and Chacco sell high quality umbrella strollers, but they have these tiny baskets that you have to work around metal bars to put anything into. And they have no cup holder, and I HAVE to have a place to put my Dr. Pepper. Also, they have no handlebar. I am a big fan of a handlebar instead of handles. I need an easy rest for my tired hands when I'm distracted. So, my criteria for a lightweight stroller is something that weighs about 15 pounds, has a large, easily accessible basket for all of my junk, has a handlebar, and has a cup holder. This thing has all of that, AND it's really cute... I couldn't really ask for anything more. Oh yeah, and I'm not willing to pay big bucks for all this either, and they only ask about $70 for this stroller. That's way better than the price they want for those other Italian lightweight strollers with some of these characteristics.

This stroller really does maneuver like a dream, people. I'm really pleased so far. It has these cool, small, swivel wheels up front, and they are great! It is sooo easy to get around in narrow aisles in small stores. And the basket holds a ton. I got a full size shoe box and a 11 x 13 picture frame in there when I was shopping the other day, no problem. You can also access the basket from the front or the back, which is a nice plus. For those of you who are into your IPods (Sarah), it comes with an IPod dock with a speaker, and you can just put your little dock in the pocket on the hood, and you and Baby can rock out. I am not so into IPods, so I just use the pocket for my keys. =) Oh, and I can't forget the cool factor. This stroller is stylish. I've had it for a few weeks, and I've already gotten a couple of "Cool stroller"s from random strangers in stores. Call me shallow, but I think that's fun.

Cons: The child tray is hard to get open and shut. It opens with a tiny button on the underside, and it's hard to push, and it's hard to pull open. This doesn't frustrate me at the moment, since I don't have to open it to get Seth in and out, but it may in time.

- I have trouble getting the seat to sit up really straight. It does adjust, but it adjusts with a slide in the back, like a belt slide. I would much prefer if it had a pull slide instead, and I'd also like it if it sat more upright, but Seth doesn't seem to care.

- You may not enjoy looking like you're pushing around a large piece of Jolly Rancher candy. Perhaps you don't want to arrange a playdate by someone saying, "We'll just meet at the food court. Look for Ellen's stroller." In that case, buy it in the luscious red color. I would've, but they sent me bright green, and hey, free is free. I've gotten used to being so, ahem, noticeable, but it took a couple of weeks. David thinks the color is great, but he also had a hot pink windbreaker in 1990, so his opinion is suspect.

So if you're interested, a bloggy friend who got one told me they have it in stock at some Sears stores. I have seen it at my local Sears. I know you can also buy it online at Walmart, and they'll ship it to your local store for free. I hope this is helpful to some of you who are looking for a good, everyday stroller. As for me, knock on wood, I think my work is done!

Homecoming...

On Saturday, we went to Homecoming at Campbell, our join alma mater. Memories... I graduated in 2001, and David graduated in '99, and we were both government majors. We took many of the same classes, had the same professors, and worked pretty hard to be good students. As a result, we are loved by our old department. =) Last year, David got an email saying that the Government dept. wanted to give him their Distinguished Alumnus award. The catch? We'd have to go to Homecoming to get it. David didn't get many weekends off while he was working on the Court, so he declined and asked to be nominated again. =) They were gracious enough to do so, so that's how we found ourselves in D. Rich 119 at 10:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning, eating catered cafeteria food and chatting with the handful of alumni and profs who showed up. We didn't remember this brunch as a fancy affair, so you can see that David dressed up to receive his award. =) They didn't care; I think Dr. Martin (who's handing him his award) was the only one in a suit and tie.

I was thinking about it, and I realized that it was ridiculous how much I'd been looking forward to going back to Campbell last week. I really wanted a chance to catch up with.. my former professors. =) College was hard for me socially. A roommate disaster (she was loved, and I was blamed for her meltdown) during freshman year on a small campus can earn you pariah status pretty quickly. She transferred, and she later apologized for the mess, but the damage was done. I had a select and small handful of friends. It was tough at times. But in the classroom, things were much smoother sailing. My classes were small, they were all taught by a handful of full professors, most of whom are still around. I still remember the excitement of picking up my new textbooks for class. I can picture particular professors pacing the room, and I can remember bits of particularly memorable lectures. I'm a proud nerd, and I am not ashamed to say that making good grades and learning a lot of new things were high goals for me at Campbell. I may not have excelled in the social realm, but I could achieve in the academic realm. And it was good.

Here we have Dr. Thornton holding my little man. Dr. Thornton teaches international law mostly. I had him for several classes, and he was one of the youngest, hippest professors in the department. I knew of several girls who had secret crushes on him. Dr. Thornton came to our wedding and brought his little son with him. How many professors did you have that came to your wedding? 'Nuf said. This is a special guy.

Ahh, the infamous Dr. Schroeder. An unashamed Republican, he teaches National Government, Political Parties, multiple Political Thought classes, and the dreaded Constitutional Law courses. As a freshmen, taking his National Government course convinced me that I needed to change my major from Journalism to Government. I realized that I wanted to take classes on something I was interested in writing about, not a bunch of classes on how to write. I loved every class I took with him, even the one that caused me to throw up popcorn before my final exam. Talk about stress... Speaking of professors and political affiliations, it is my firm belief that professors need to come out and tell their students where they stand when the semester starts. None of us are dumb enough to think that professors are a blank slate, totally impartial, with no worldview or political affiliation. Even if they aren't gung ho about advancing that affiliation, it will still influence what they teach and how they teach it to some extent. I think their students need a disclaimer so that they know where this teacher if coming from, and they can take their biases into account accordingly. That's my soapbox for today... and now the baby is waking up 15 minutes early from his nap, and I must depart...

And now, the rest of the story...

At the moment, I feel like a bit of a dope. A sheepish dope. A dope who needed a kick in the pants for her mini pity party, but who got a nice helping of blessing instead. God is good to me, ya know?

About 15 minutes after I wrote my last post, an email popped into my inbox from a girl from MOPs who has 5-month-old twin girls. I had given her my contact info a couple of weeks ago, and I told her that we walk regularly on our local trail, and Seth and I would love it if she and the girls would join us. (She mentioned that she walks every day.) Like a ninny, I gave her the wrong phone number. I was having a spacey day, and I gave her a combo of some old number of mine and our new number. Well, today, right when I needed it, she emailed to ask if we could plan a walk, and to tell me that my number hadn't worked. I called her, and she was actually eager to go today. As in, wants to plan something now, not later. So, after our babies get up, we're all hitting the trail this afternoon!

Then... my CBS leader called. She was giving me the prayer requests for the week, and she said she was sorry that she had to get a sub for group next week. Her son is out of school. I wondered at the fact that she couldn't find somebody to watch an 8-year-old for a few hours. She admitted that she hasn't done a good job of opening up to people and working at making friends lately. So, in a surge of renewed courage, I asked if she'd like to go to lunch sometime after CBS. (Hey, I'm not that courageous, I had to make it vague). Her response was so enthusiastic that I followed up by suggesting next week. So, Seth and I and her little boy will be going out for lunch after CBS next Thursday. Hmm, maybe moms with slightly older kids is an untapped market... =)

Ironic, ain't it? But, hey, I don't believe in luck. I believe in mercy and goodness and kindness and a Father who wants to bless me with good things, even when I don't deserve it, and even when I whine too much. After all, if there's one thing I'm learning in my Bible study this year, it's that the God of the Old Testament is the same kind, merciful, just, forgiving father He is in the New. He is just, but He is so quick to give second chances for the, sometimes, 5 minutes, that His people call on Him before they go back to worshipping pagan idols. He never gives up on us. I'm so thankful for mercy, and I'm so thankful that He sees fit to provide encouragement to me, the least of these, on the normalest days of this everyday, suburban life.

Shot down...

We're back from CBS. Seth is taking a catnap in his swing. I got shot down this morning, and I'm a little bummed about it. I asked the mom that I mentioned last week what she was doing after CBS. It was hard for me to ask, but I made myself do it, per the advice of "Like Merchant Ships." =) But her response was: "We always go home so I can feed my little boy lunch and then put him down for a nap. Sorry to be so antisocial." (Or at least I think she said that last sentence. She was in the toddler room at that point, and it was a little loud.)

The frustrating thing was that I tried to cover all my bases. I had asked about her daily schedule earlier, and she mentioned that she tried to get him down for a nap by 2:00, and that she had to pick up her daughter by 1:45 from school. Her husband works from home, so I guess she can leave him there. It's 11:15 a.m. when we get out of CBS, and we both live close to the church. Maybe I miscalculated... Anyway, I tried. I don't know what else to do. The sad thing is that I know this will make it harder for me to get up the nerve to ask another mom again. Please pray that I'll have the strength and courage to keep trying, no matter how many times I get shot down... I'd like to have a chart or something that would make it possible for me to figure out exactly who would reach back to me and who won't. I hate the uncertainty of casting my nets and not knowing what will happen. But I guess that's just another part of trusting God...

Amy, the girl I met at church weeks ago who is also new in town, came over with her little girl yesterday. I don't want y'all to think I'm entirely friendless. We are settling in here, and I'm getting comfortable with things more. I wish I wasn't so extroverted sometimes. =)

Guess I'll treat myself by heating up a frozen burrito for lunch. =) It's raining here! Yeah! We've been in a drought for so long. Seth and I will enjoy a rainy afternoon, and I'll get some laundry done. And CBS was really great this morning. I really love this study, and I'm excited about getting started on next week's lesson...

N.C. State Fair...

I LOVE the fair. When we lived in Alabama, there were no good fairs, in my not-so-humble opinion. After we went to the supposed state fair there, I cried because I was so homesick for the N.C. State Fair. Last year, we made it to the one in Virginia, and it was good, but not as good as the one I've been visiting all my life... This year, I got to take my baby to the fair for the first time, and it was "my" fair growing up!

When I get to the fair, I am all about the exhibits and the farm animals. Growing up, Mom and Dad wouldn't let us "waste money" on rides, so we spent very little time at the midway. Instead, we would stroll the aisles and run through the barns, looking at shiny, fresh produce pinned with multicolored ribbons and smiling at Wrangler wearing kids in 4-H jackets as they dragged freshly brushed goats from stall to ring. When we were old enough, my brother and I entered things in the fair. I highly recommend that for some fall fun. Enter a cake that you've baked, or a picture that you've drawn or taken, or even decorate a pumpkin. Vance and I entered the pumpkin painting contest every year at the Dixie Classic (our local fair in Winston-Salem). I'll never forget the year we scored a long, curly haired gray wig at a thrift store. That year, Vance's pumpkin was Benjamin Franklin, complete with gray ponytail, tri-cornered hat, and a mini kite on a coat hangar extending from his back. Good times...

There is also something really fun about talking to the people manning the booths at fairs. Everybody has a booth it seems, from the State Department of Labor to the guy who demonstrates his overpriced food processors. As a lifelong and devoted 4-H member, I would often get in free to the fair so that I could work a booth. That involved handing out brochures for 5 minutes and roaming the building the booth was in for 40 minutes. Just kidding. =) If you're in a local organization that has a fair booth, volunteer! You can score a free ticket, and sometimes, even good parking at a vendor lot. And you feel more a part of the fair when you're working there. Yesterday, Seth and I talked to the guys at the State Bureau of Investigation tent. They knew some of the guys that David works with, and it was fun to chat a bit. I talked to the Gideons when they insisted that I take a Bible, and I think it cheered up those suited, older men to know that a young lady attempts to do her devotions daily. And I left a message for an old 4-H leader of mine at that booth... Slow down. Talk to the people. Take a sticker. They're there to talk to you, especially if you can relate to their cause or organization.

Seth and I had some fun times at the fair yesterday, lemme tell ya. First of all, a word of advice to young moms. DO NOT go to the fair on Senior Citizens Day. It's the only day of the fair that there will be wheelchairs competing with strollers for who can block the most aisles... Seth hates riding facing forward in his stroller at this point. He sucks his thumb and scowls until I take him out. Then he rides on my shoulder, squealing and writhing and kicking to beat the band. I spent most of our time at the fair pushing a stroller with one hand and holding him in the other aching arm. If I'd known it would be that bad, I would've just roughed it with the baby backpack.

In an attempt to save money, I packed a lunch for myself and some baby food for Seth. My big plan was to find a place to sit down, put a blanket over the stroller to protect it from getting food on it, and then feed him in his stroller. Of course, most of the benches were being taken by the aforementioned senior citizens, so I had to resort to a hay bale for a place to sit. Seth, of course, was mad at me for making him sit in his stroller and for not feeding him fast enough. So there I am, with a bucking baby who has managed to buck his way down so that he's wedged between the stroller bar and the stroller, and I'm trying to pull him out with one hand and keep his food from falling on the ground with the other. Several benches full of frowning older women were watching the show. I finally got him fed and changed without getting us both covered in food and hay, but it involved me putting him on my knee to feed him and changing him on a blanket on the ground. Why did I try to go this year again? Oh yeah, because I like the fair, and I didn't want to miss it. Next year will be for him...

Despite the headaches associated with carting a baby to the fair, and despite the fact that I paid more to park than I did to get in, I had a great time! =) I always know that fall is in full swing when I go to the fair. I love seeing all the fruits of this year's harvest. I love seeing the sleek, full grown cows and the cute, baby chicks. I love getting back to the farm roots that I have in my family. And this year, I love that I got to share a little bit of that love with my baby boy. We'll be back next year, and it'll be even better!

And for even more fall love, see www.agracioushome.com!!!

Mullets...

Well, I know all of you have been waiting with baited breath for my posting on the Mullet Festival. Baited breath... ha, ha. Sometimes it still astounds me that we all want to read about the mundane events of each other's lives, but we do. Anyhoo, the weekend was beautiful. It was sunny and cool, and we got to the parade an hour early, so we got a good spot. Poor Dad. "I looked on the internet, and it said the parade was at 9:00. I know it said that." Oh well. David and I walked down the street to a local yard sale happening in front of a church. We got a ton of baby books and two toys for $4, so that made my yard sale lovin' hubby's day. My favorite part of it was listening to the conversations of locals around me. Relaxed, elderly St. Mildred's parishioners met up with their neighbors... "Haven't seen you in awhile. How're the grandkids."

The Mullet Festival, sadly, has gotten smaller since I was a kid. The clogging stage? Gone. The multiple yard sales and vendors set up all over downtown? Pretty reduced. The parade? No Miss North Carolina with her local Marine escort. There used to be tons of Marines from Camp Lejeune that came to the parade, but I'm guessing they're all cleaning sand out of their shoes on fall weekends these days. But, the Shriners were still there! I love watching the Shriners. Little old ladies don't have anything as cool for themselves to do as the little old men do. I'm jealous. I want to be a little old man driving a miniature tractor trailer/boat/miniature something. It looks like so much fun! You've got to be a laidback guy who can make fun of yourself to wear a sequined fez and drive a souped up go-cart through downtown in front of your neighbors.

Gotta love Boy Scouts. You should click on this picture to get a better look at their faces. Such typical, adorable, pre-adolescent boy expressions; you gotta love it. We've got Bored, Spaced, Sun in my Eyes, Chin Scratcher, and I'm in a Parade and I'm Gonna Smile the Whole Way, all on the front row... I'm looking forward to dressing Seth up in a little uniform and sticking him on an overcrowded float pulled by somebody's granddaddy's tractor. And I think it's adorable when boys in soccer uniforms walk through the crowd, yelling, "Cold drinks! One dollar!" Adults grumble at their audacity, but I love their little boy swagger and excitement. This is the one time of year that 10-year-olds get to walk around in packs and yell things at adults. Let them enjoy it...

No Mullet Queen this year. But, the local Shrimp Queen and Princess made it there. They weren't the only "beauty queens" represented. There was Tiny Miss Southern Coastal Carolina from Albemarle to Beaufort, or something like that. I love how there is a beauty pageant for everything. It is my personal theory that just about any little girl can be a beauty queen, if she finds a pageant that has almost nobody in it. I am living proof of this. My Great-Uncle Brady, beekeeper of beekeepers and proud Piedmont Triad Farmer's Market board member, decided that the Farmer's Market should have ambassadors in the form of Queen and Princess. He got me to sign up for the contest. I sang a song and wrote an essay about produce. The judges were: my great-aunt, the grandmother of the other girl, and the grandmother's best friend. Guess who got queen and who got princess? =) I didn't care. I still got a crown and a sash, and the other girl was named Homecoming Queen of her high school, and she never showed up again, so I got to do all the ceremonial tomato cutting and ice cream churn off judging. I had a blast. If I can be a "beauty queen" with my huge, crooked nose and tiny eyes, and at that time, pencilled in eyebrows, than anybody can...

Ahh, my favorite picture. Dad and Seth went out to enjoy watching the calm water after Seth's afternoon nap on Saturday. I love watching my parents watching my baby. It's a treat for me to see their obvious enjoyment of being grandparents. Who knew I would get a kick out of them getting a kick out of my baby boy? And David and I love having an extra pair of hands so we can pretend we're newlyweds again. "You wanna watch the baby so we can wander off for 10 minutes alone? Ok. Bye!" It's blissful.

Going away for the weekend...

We're heading to The Cabin after David gets home from work tonight. (I don't know why I'm so crazed with capitalizing/proper naming lately, but I just am. Bear with me. I may snap out of it. =) My family has this really, really old fishing cabin on the White Oak River. I mean, really, like 100 years old. It is shall we say...rustically charming. It has the original claw foot bathtub, water stains on the ceiling, and no air conditioning, as I'm sure I've mentioned before. I like taking a shower in an outdoor shower from time to time, though, so we're all good.

Every year when I was a kid, we would go down in the fall for the Mullet Festival. No, I'm not talking about the original redneck hairdo. I'm talking about mullet, as in, fish. Yes, there is an entire festival dedicated to a somewhat obscure fish. They have a local parade, complete with a Mullet Queen and her Mullet Court. None of them wear anything fishy. They have a street festival with crafts and carnival food and mullet served up any way you'd like it. They have fried mullet, they have poached mullet, they have mullet on a stick. Mmmm. Have I mentioned that I OD'd on fish as the child of a fisherman, and I haven't had any in years? =) I go for the parade and the ambiance. But, I haven't been to the Mullet Festival in soo long. I went to college, got married, moved away, moved away again, moved away again, moved away again, etc., etc....but now I'm finally close enough to head back for a childhood tradition.

I hope Seth enjoys his first Mullet Festival ever. Let's hope he can nap in a stroller with a crazy, fish loving parade going on around him. Not likely. I won't be able to record this trip for posterity on my really nice Nikon D50. And why, you may ask is that? I'm going to tell you even if you're not interested because this is my blog, and you're still reading. =) I had to send it off this morning to Nikon headquarters to be fixed. My new camera has some sort of flash problem. Sniff. Fortunately, I did find my receipt, and it is under warranty. If you feel led to lift up a prayer for something as silly as this, please ask God that this camera gets fixed quickly, and that I don't have another problem with it again for many, many years.

Toodles. See ya next week!

Overtures to friendship...

Today at CBS, one of the young mom's in my group (not Friends 1 or 2) said something that led me to believe that she might be inclined to want to get to know me better! Yes! She mentioned that she had a friend that she'd had for awhile that she had gotten to know after she'd noticed that they both seemed to turn up at all the same activities. She said during the course of that, "Like you and I are showing up at a lot of same places." (We are both in CBS and in MOPs). So, what do you think? Do you think that meant she might want to get to know me better, or is it ambiguous?

Well, I didn't know quite how to respond. After all, I'm the New Girl in Town, and it's hard to me to put myself out there to risk getting shot down a wild blaze of glory. I thought about saying, "So, would you like to go to lunch sometime?", but I didn't have the nerve. I mentioned this to David, and he shared with me his Lunch Invite Principle #1.

Lunch Invite Principle #1: Saying "Would you like to go to lunch sometime?" is a non-threatening way to inquire whether or not someone would like to get to know you a little better. It is non-threatening because it's not definite. You aren't asking them for a specific time, so this gives them the opportunity to respond in such a way that shows that they either a) would really like to go, ie. much enthusiasm in tone, positive facial expression, and possible head nodding, or b) don't really want to go, usually indicated by general vagueness, hesitancy, lack of vocal enthusiasm, and occasionally, in addition to these, expressions of general busyness. After you have ascertained whether you've received reaction A or reaction B, you can then proceed to respond accordingly. If reaction A, a proper response might be: "So, are you doing anything next week after class?" If reaction B, a proper response might be: "We'll have to try that sometime," and then you quietly let the matter go the way of all flesh... indefinitely. Then, if they mention having lunch to you later on their own, you can know that you misread their reaction, but there's no pressure on them to go with you.

Just another example of my husband's everyday brilliance =)... We are such dorks... But I do think that he is right about his Lunch Invite Principle #1. What do you think? Do you think we have it wrong, or do you have anything you'd like to add?

A list of pleasant things...

Things I'm enjoying today...

1. MOPs this morning, complete with talk from Parks and Rec about the amazing stuff this area has to offer. I got to smile and imagine all the toddler fun that Seth and I can have next year at their cool events and sites...

2. Seth's long afternoon nap, soon to end...

3. Making big headway on the mountain of camping laundry. Camping creates tons of laundry...

4. Being able to take my time on my CBS study this afternoon and relish what God is teaching me through His word...

5. Being able to continue reading "My Grandfather's Son" after I got done with CBS homework. Go out and get a copy. It's a great read, even if you don't know the biographer... =)

6. A clean, neat, quiet house...

7. A to-do list almost checked off...

8. An impending trip after nap to the local library for more picture books for Seth and fiction books for Mommy...

9. Homemade spaghetti, a family favorite, for dinner. Mmmmm.....

10. Looking forward to this weeked at the cabin with my parents...

Campfire Beef Stew Packets...

Here is our recipe, with much fine-tuning, for perfect beef stew over a campfire...

1 lb. stew meat, cut into bite size pieces
several red potatos, washed before the trip, then cut into bite size pieces at the site
1 onion, cut into small pieces
1 packet of beef stew seasoning
a little water

Get your fire going, and lower the cooking grate over it. Let it go for about 30 minutes so it dies down a bit. Take out two pieces of aluminum foil, and layer them, one on top of the other. Spray with cooking spray. Lay down half the meat, half the potatos, and half the onion. Sprinkle liberally with stew seasoning, then sprinkle with a few tablespoons of water. Fold up the sides of the foil, making a sealed packet. Do the same with the rest of your ingredients. Put the packets on the grate, turned them about every 20 minutes. They will take about an hour to cook. You need to cut your pieces small enough, especially the potatos, that this is possible in an hour. Unfold and enjoy!!

A camping we will go...

Now that David has a federal job, he gets Columbus Day off!!! Yeah!!! =) So we took Seth camping for the very first time. We got a hot tip on a nice campground about 3 hours from here, a little west of Danville, on the Blue Ridge Parkway. It's called Rocky Knob campground, and the reason it's so great is because it has plenty of trees and few other campers, largely due to the fact that only one bathhouse has lights, and none of them have showers or hot water. Those cushy campgrounds with hookups and lots of lights get filled up pretty quickly on lovely fall weekends, but this place wasn't full, especially in the tent sites. And hey, with nice crisp weather, I can go without a shower for a few days. (She says, as she scratches her oily scalp. Bubble bath in her near future...) But, we got there on Saturday afternoon, pitched the tent, and had a lovely hike along a beautiful creek on Sunday morning. We cooked over the campfire two nights, had plenty of s'mores, and enjoyed ourselves thoroughly.

The best part was that all of us enjoyed ourselves thoroughly. See that lovely smile on my little man's face? It stayed on for most of the weekend. He loved riding on David's shoulders in his baby backpack. He squealed and beat David on the head for at least the first 30 minutes of our hike. He slept as well as he did at home! No kidding! We put him in his baby tent in the back of our minivan. It was pleasant in there, even on a cool night with the windows cracked. I know he was a lot warmer than we were the first night! We didn't figure out the trick to keeping warm on an air mattress is to put one sleeping bag under you and one on top until the second night. =( He had a total ball, though, so I my nervousness about taking him camping was completely relieved. I'm so glad we tried it. It's a nice plus that he can't crawl into any hornet's nests yet. Nighttime in this campground was very different, though, from what I've experienced in most campgrounds, especially after most people went home on Sunday. It was so dark that the animals decided to crash around the woods making creepy noises. I swear there was a buck calling for a mate that I was deeply afraid would run into our tent. And there was a weird bird that sounded like a psychotic baby crying. I was pretty afraid to get Seth and feed him by myself at 2:00 a.m. I almost made David go with me. Maybe I like crowded campgrounds more than I thought...

David and I are pretty minimalistic campers (notice I didn't say primitive, wilderness, backpacking campers; they're a different breed entirely.) We try to camp with as little gear as possible. (If you want to hear about what I think the essentials are, comment, and I'll oblige.) The air mattress is my biggest luxury because I am incapable of sleeping on the hard ground. I've tried. Neither of us like to put away tons of stuff after camping trips, so this technique keeps it to a minimum. As a result, we don't have a camp stove. This means that we have to get creative with cooking over a campfire. My friend, Fran, gave me a great recipe for campfire beef stew. We've finally gotten the trick of it down, and I'll put it in a separate post. I highly recommend it, unless you don't mind roasting weinies on coat hangers both nights. =)

Don't Leave It On the Table...

I thought this was interesting, so I thought I'd share it...

There was a certain Professor of Religion named Dr. Christianson, a studious man who taught at a small college in the western United States. Dr. Christianson taught the required survey course in Christianity at this particular institution. Every student was required to take this course his freshman year, regardless of his or her major.

Although Dr. Christianson tried hard to communicate the essence of the gospel in his class, he found that most of his students looked upon the course as nothing but required drudgery. Despite his best efforts, most students refused to take Christianity seriously.

This year, Dr. Christianson had a special student named Steve. Steve was only a freshman, but was studying with the intent of going onto seminary for the ministry. Steve was popular, he was well liked, and he was an imposing physical specimen. He was now the starting center on the school football team, and was the best student in the professor’s class.
One day, Dr. Christianson asked Steve to stay after class so he could talk with him.
‘How many push-ups can you do?’
Steve said, ‘I do about 200 every night.’
‘200? That’s pretty good, Steve,’ Dr. Christianson said. ‘Do you think you could do 300?’
Steve replied, ‘I don’t know…. I’ve never done 300 at a time.’
‘Do you think you could?’ again asked Dr. Christianson.
‘Well, I can try,’ said Steve.
‘Can you do 300 in sets of 10? I have a class project in mind and I need you to do about 300 push-ups in sets of ten for this to work. Can you do it? I need you to tell me you can do it,’ said the professor.
Steve said, ‘Well… I think I can…yeah, I can do it.’
Dr. Christianson said, ‘Good! I need you to do this on Friday. Let me explain what I have in mind.’

Friday came and Steve got to class early and sat in the front of the room. When class started, the professor pulled out a big box of donuts. No, these weren’t the normal kinds of donuts, they were the extra fancy BIG kind, with cream centers and frosting swirls. Everyone was pretty excited it was Friday, the last class of the day, and they were going to get an early start on the weekend with a party in Dr. Christianson’s class.

Dr. Christianson went to the first girl in the first row and asked,‘Cynthia, do you want to have one of these donuts?’
Cynthia said, ‘Yes.’
Dr. Christianson then turned to Steve and asked, ‘Steve, would you do ten push-ups so that Cynthia can have a donut?’
‘Sure!’ Steve jumped down from his desk to do a quick ten. Then Steve again sat in his desk. Dr. Christianson put a donut on Cynthia’s desk.
Dr. Christianson then went to Joe, the next person, and asked, ‘Joe, do you want a donut?’

Joe said, ‘Yes.’ Dr. Christianson asked, ‘Steve would you do ten push-ups so Joe can have a donut?’
Steve did ten push-ups, Joe got a donut. And so it went, down the first aisle, Steve did ten push-ups for every person before they got their donut.
Walking down the second aisle, Dr. Christianson came to Scott. Scott was on the basketball team, and in as good condition as Steve. He was very popular and never lacking for female companionship.

When the professor asked, ‘Scott do you want a donut?’
Scott’s reply was, ‘Well, can I do my own push-ups?’
Dr. Christianson said, ‘No, Steve has to do them.’
Then Scott said, ‘Well, I don’t want one then.’
Dr. Christianson shrugged and then turned to Steve and asked, ‘Steve, would you do ten push-ups so Scott can have a donut he doesn’t want?’
With perfect obedience Steve started to do ten push-ups.
Scott said, ‘HEY! I said I didn’t want one!’
Dr. Christianson said, ‘Look!, this is my classroom, my class, my desks, and these are my donuts. Just leave it on the desk if you don’t want it.’ And he put a donut on Scott’s desk.

Now by this time, Steve had begun to slow down a little. He just stayed on the floor between sets because it took too much effort to be getting up and down. You could start to see a little perspiration coming out around his brow.
Dr. Christianson started down the third row. Now the students were beginning to get a little angry. Dr. Christianson asked Jenny, ‘Jenny, do you want a donut?’
Sternly, Jenny said, ‘No.’
Then Dr. Christianson asked Steve, ‘Steve, would you do ten more push-ups so Jenny can have a donut that she doesn’t want?’
Steve did ten….Jenny got a donut.

By now, a growing sense of uneasiness filled the room. The students were beginning to say, ‘No!’ and there were all these uneaten donuts on the desks.
Steve also had to really put forth a lot of extra effort to get these push-ups done for each donut. There began to be a small pool of sweat on the floor beneath his face, his arms and brow were beginning to get red because of the physical effort involved.

Dr. Christianson asked Robert, who was the most vocal unbeliever in the class, to watch Steve do each push up to make sure he did the full ten push-ups in a set because he couldn’t bear to watch all of Steve’s work for all of those uneaten donuts. He sent Robert over to where Steve was so Robert could count the set and watch Steve closely.

Dr. Christianson started down the fourth row. During his class, however, some students from other classes had wandered in and sat down on the steps along the radiators that ran down the sides of the room. When the professor realized this, he did a quick count and saw that now there were 34 students in the room. He started to worry if Steve would be able to make it.
Dr. Christianson went on to the next person and the next and the next. Near the end of that row, Steve was really having a rough time. He was taking a lot more time to complete each set.
Steve asked Dr. Christianson, ‘Do I have to make my nose touch on each one?’
Dr. Christianson thought for a moment, ‘Well, they’re your push-ups. You are in charge now. You can do them any way that you want.’ And Dr. Christianson went on.

A few moments later, Jason, a recent transfer student, came to the room and was about to come in when all the students yelled in one voice,
‘NO! Don’t come in! Stay out!’
Jason didn’t know what was going on. Steve picked up his head and said, ‘No, let him come.’
Professor Christianson said, ‘You realize that if Jason comes in you will have to do ten push-ups for him?’
Steve said, ‘Yes, let him come in. Give him a donut.’
Dr. Christianson said, ‘Okay, Steve, I’ll let you get Jason’s out of the way right now. Jason, do you want a donut?’
Jason, new to the room, hardly knew what was going on. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘give me a donut.’
‘Steve, will you do ten push-ups so that Jason can have a donut?’
Steve did ten push-ups very slowly and with great effort. Jason, bewildered, was handed a donut and sat down.

Dr. Christianson finished the fourth row, and then started on those visitors seated by the heaters. Steve’s arms were now shaking with each push-up in a struggle to lift himself against the force of gravity. By this time sweat was profusely dropping off of his face, there was no sound except his heavy breathing; there was not a dry eye in the room.
The very last two students in the room were two young women, both cheerleaders, and very popular. Dr. Christianson went to Linda, the second to last, and asked, ‘Linda, do you want a doughnut?’
Linda said, very sadly, ‘No, thank you.’
Professor Christianson quietly asked, ‘Steve, would you do ten push-ups so that Linda can have a donut she doesn’t want?’
Grunting from the effort, Steve did ten very slow push-ups for Linda.

Then Dr. Christianson turned to the last girl, Susan. ‘Susan, do you want a donut?’
Susan, with tears flowing down her face, began to cry. ‘Dr. Christianson, why can’t I help him?’
Dr. Christianson, with tears of his own, said, ‘No, Steve has to do it alone; I have given him this task and he is in charge of seeing that everyone has an opportunity for a donut whether they want it or not. When I decided to have a party this last day of class, I looked at my grade book. Steve here is the only student with a perfect grade. Everyone else has failed a test, skipped class, or offered me inferior work. Steve told me that in football practice, when a player messes up he must do push-ups. I told Steve that none of you could come to my party unless he paid the price by doing your push ups. He and I made a deal for your sakes.’
‘Steve, would you do ten push-ups so Susan can have a donut?’
As Steve very slowly finished his last push-up, with the understanding that he had accomplished all that was required of him, having done 350 push-ups, his arms buckled beneath him and he fell to the floor.

Dr. Christianson turned to the room and said, ‘And so it was, that our Savior, Jesus Christ, (Yeshua Ha Mashiach), on the cross, plead to the Father, ‘Into thy hands I commend my spirit.’ With the understanding that He had done everything that was required of Him, He yielded up His life. And like some of those in this room, many of us leave the gift on the desk, uneaten.’
Two students helped Steve up off the floor and to a seat, physically exhausted, but wearing a thin smile.
‘Well done, good and faithful servant,’ said the professor, adding, ‘Not all sermons are preached in words.’

Turning to his class, the professor said, ‘My wish is that you might understand and fully comprehend all the riches of grace and mercy that have been given to you through the sacrifice of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ (Yeshua Ha Mashiach). He spared not only His Begotten Son, but gave Him up for us all, for the whole Church, now and forever. Whether or not we choose to accept His gift to us, the price has been paid.’

‘Wouldn’t you be foolish and ungrateful to leave it lying on the desk?’

Being the new girl...

Today's one of those days when I'm tired of being the new girl...

This morning, I went to my Community Bible Study class. I'm really enjoying the study this year. It's on Kings and the Minor Prophets, and we've spent the last few weeks in 1st Kings. I know I've read this book of the Bible many times before, but going through it more slowly, and being asked specific questions from the reading, is helping me to focus in on the details in ways I haven't done before. For example, I don't think it was in my memory that Solomon himself built altars to and sacrificed to idols, specifically Molech, a god who asked for human sacrifices. Solomon started out so well, so it's sad that he descended to that later in his life. You can find out where turning from God got him if you read Ecclesiastes. His life seems meaningless to him...

But I digress... anyway, CBS's discussion groups are mixed ages. There are more older ladies than younger ones in my group. I'm finding that this is great for discussion and wisdom from the older ones, but it's not so great for me, a newbie looking for mommy friends. There are only 4 women, besides me, in this group who have young kids. I am the only one who has a single baby. One of the women does have a baby, and her older kids are in school, but she has been out a lot lately, and our leader asked today that we pray that she doesn't get discouraged and quit. Drat. Another girl my age has promise, but her mom was visiting with her today, so there goes that after class lunch possibility. And then there's the Best Buds. I figured they might be unavailable as friend potential when Friend 1 introduced herself the first day and said that Friend 2 invited her. Much smiling at each other then ensued.

But today, I was hoping. I walked upstairs to lecture with them, and they asked me to sit with them. They're funny and open and relaxed, and they're women that I think would be fun to get to know better. The lecture started, and it was great, as usual. As it was ending, our group leader, who was sitting in front of me, turned around and asked me about Seth's cold. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Friend 1 bend forward and look around me at Friend 2. She quickly gathered her things and gave me the Shoulder Pat of Doom. You ladies all know this pat. It means, "Nice to see you. I'm leaving now. Goodbye." So, two sentences later, my leader is leaving to go, and I pack up my stuff, watching Friend 1 and Friend 2 chatting animatedly together farther down the row that we were sitting on. They haven't left to get their kids, and they'll be going down to nursery soon too, to the classroom right across from me, but nevertheless, they're in their own world at this point. I know they don't mean to snub me, but I wish for what they have, and I wish they'd take the time to include someone else in their good time.

I fought a bad attitude all the way from the nursery to the van. I continued to fight it all the way to the mall. My original plan, since I was going to go there to pick up some jeans anyway, was to ask if any of the moms would want to join me for a bit. Plan goes down in flames, and I'm sad and lonely and tired. The bloom of my original idea quickly faded, so Seth and I got said jeans, and we went home. I didn't need to spend money on lunch out anyway. Seth and I had a good time playing, but he then proceeded to spit up on my shopping bag and everything in it. He was fussy, and I'm glad that he's now safely in his crib for nap.

Life is still good. God hasn't forgotten me. But finding some adult company when you're a stay at home mom is hard to do.

Camping with a baby...

Anybody know anything about camping with a baby? We're thinking of taking Seth to the mountains this weekend for his very first camping trip. We've found a campground that's sure to be open, seeing that you can't take a shower unless you want to drive down the hill and pay $2.65. =) We may just smell... But I'm thinking, since he has his own little tent anyway... =) Hee, hee. I thought maybe putting him in two sleep sacks with a hat on his little head would be good enough to keep him warm at night?

Mom tip of the day: Why warm up the leftover cold baby food that you pull out of the fridge? They don't know that peas are supposed to be served warm!! Mmm, Seth likes it hot or cold. =)

Busy few days...

Ok, I know I've been awol for a bit. It's been a little crazy around here. But I really prefer crazy to blah, so I was happy. But I have missed blogging...

David and I had a great date on Saturday night. We ate at a local Chinese buffet that we went to on a date long, long ago, and then we headed to the $1.50 movie to see "Pirates of the Caribbean." We like mindless action flicks occasionally, and we'd seen all the others. I was afraid that things were going to go awry when the fire alarm went off during the previews. Fortunately, we were able to go back inside after a couple of minutes, and we even got our seats back. It felt weird to be out at 10:00 p.m. Wendy and Jon were troopers, putting up with Mr. Crankypants even after he started to melt down 15 minutes before bedtime. He's also on a formula strike. He won't take it from anyone. Well, at least I can just wake him up to feed him when I get home. He won't starve....

Yesterday, I had my long awaited bladder appointment. The doctor did a cystoscopy, and it was so fun. Not. But it showed that I have a beautiful bladder and urethra. Drat. I was hoping for polyps or something else obvious. At this point, he thinks I have overactive bladder, and he prescribed some medicine that I don't plan to take unless I really need it. At this point, I'm noticing a pattern. I think this problem is hormonal. I have never had it during the week of my period, but I have had bad flareups right around the time that I would be ovulating. He said that's a possibility, and as my hormones level out, it could go away. Since I haven't ovulated normally in 5 years, I'm wondering if my bladder is having a hard time with the newness of my hormonal shifts. He said that overactive bladder usually does go away, so I'm hoping for that.

Seth and I went to playgroup this morning for our small group at MOPs. Two other moms and their kids showed up at our leader's house, and we had a good time. I kept him up through his morning nap, but he slept late this morning, so he was ok. I think I'm going to really enjoy getting to know these women. And this morning, my openness had an obvious up side. I'm soo glad sometimes that I talk too much. I told them about my worries about my period, how since it started up, I've had it 34, 28, and 18 days apart, and the last one really scared me. Well, this mom of four asked, "Is he breastfeeding more lately?" And come to think of it, he is. The doctor told me to wake him up to feed him before bed starting two months ago, and for the past few weeks, he's woken up an additional time, too. She said that that can shorten your cycle if you're nursing. It made me feel soooo much better to hear that. And if I wasn't a loudmouth, I wouldn't have heard it. Hurray for openness. It can lead to comfort from others.

The leader of our playgroup lives only about 5 minutes from here, but her neighborhood is as different from mine as day from night. She lives in a huge, beautiful house with crown molding, shining hardwoods, and designer paint colors. I walked in, and I immediately wondered if they would feel ok in my tiny little house. I wondered if all the other moms lived in really nice places like this. I started to feel a little like po' folk. Then I got home, pulled into my driveway, and saw the lush, green yard, and the playset. I walked in the door, and saw my living room's sweet coziness. And I remembered that I don't really care to keep up with the Jones'. I like my house, and I don't really want to live in a large home with all the fancy trimmings. It just wouldn't be me. We can't afford a place like that, and I'm ok with that. It's amazing how a couple of hours there can get me flustered and discontented for a bit, though. I'm glad for a reality check. And I'm going to invite them all over here anyway....

Oh yeah, and the last tidbit. The doorbell rang while I was typing, and it was a registered letter from the Justice's office. I opened it, and it was a picture of David and Vice-President Cheney. It was signed, "Best Wishes, Dick." David and the the other clerks and the Justice had lunch with him at the VP's residence right before we left DC. Cool!! I'm going to frame it for David's office.... And now my squirmy baby refuses to sit on my lap another second, and he's going down for nap. Bye, y'all.