1... chore from my Saturday work list is done

2... books I read way too often are Mordant's Wish and Goodnight Gorilla

3... [unsuccessful] attempts have been made at getting Jackson to nap since 10am

4... dozen cookies are baked and ready for tomorrow's end-of-year BBQ

5... whole minutes spent showering (and only that long because I had to stick my head out for at least 1 whole minute to convince Bronwyn not to tip Jack out of his car seat)

6... diaper-changes so far today

7... hours from now I hope to be fast asleep

8... couch pillows make up much of my son's drumset

9... months ago Bronwyn wore 6-12 month clothes; today she wears 2T

10... hours of sleep in one night seems like a far-off dream

Last night, after spending the previous two nights waking at least every 2 hours with a sometimes-hungry, sometimes-just-squirmy, sometimes-just-fussy baby (I'm okay with newborns keeping such routines, but 3+ months later, my tolerance--and energy--for such things is beginning to wane), I let Jackson cry himself to sleep. It was 2am. He had just eaten, burped, and I'd rocked him to sleep. He'd woken up within 10 minutes of being laid back down. I had picked him up and rocked him to sleep again. But he woke up just a few short minutes after being laid down again.

I knew he was tired. I knew he didn't have a hungry belly or a dirty diaper. I knew he just wanted to be with me. And as much as I love being with him, a pinched nerve in my neck that pretty much wrecked last weekend, and day after day of waking up rather exhausted from sharing my bed for half the night with him, I needed him to sleep--and on his own.

After an hour of on and off crying (more on than off), he succumbed to exhaustion--as did his mother.

Of course, I can't decide now whether I actually feel better today than if I'd just shared the bed from 2am on with Jack. Due to my 2-hour stint in the middle of the night (plus another nursing at 5:45am, which still counts as "night" in my opinion!) following two previous bad nights, I have a splitting headache, and the scratchy throat I've been doing my best to hold at bay is developing into something more like a cough.

I realize that the goal in all of this is that eventually Jack will sleep well in his bed and I will sleep well in mine. But doesn't everyone know to refrain from using words like eventually with a stay-at-home-mom-to-toddlers-and-babies?

"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God."

["In everything give thanks; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."]

"And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

His peace that goes beyond what circumstances would otherwise dictate is promised to me... as I give thanks.

Make me thankful, Lord. In everything.

------------------------------------

On an entirely different note: I received this message from ebay today, and couldn't resist posting it. Guess it just proves how much secular humanism impacts the society around us.

With your positive feedback, you reinforce the eBay value that "People are basically good."

Yuck.

I took a lot more pictures the other day that I just never had time to upload. I thought they were cute enough to post, even a couple days later!

Jackson smiles a lot these days--and he seems to be closing in on 13lbs!


A classic Bronwyn-look! Total independence!


The three cousins watching Veggie Tales while I put Aidan and Jackson to sleep
[by the way, Abby, we have Aidan's duck and will get it to you soon!]

There's nothing like a brownie and Starbucks Java Chip ice cream, a room full of noisy sisters and brothers (including "adopted" brothers), and watching a good night on American Idol to remind me that life is not all sorrow and difficulty. Really, I don't know why I so easily believe that the daily grind is so un-endurable, but I do. My confession is made.

With that made clear, it's a good thing reminders come. Often.

Another good reminder is reading "things I appreciate" lists on another's site. It gets the wheels in my head turning, and I quickly find that my life is full of unaccounted for blessings. The problem is that I'm so self-centered, I think I'm getting a bad deal the minute the demands on me are greater than my own sufficiency, and that I'm being gypped every time my days don't look exactly like I'd planned.

So, I voted for some of tonight's--in my humble opinion--best performers (him, her, him) and now I'm making a [short] list of "things I appreciate."

--His discipline, which works for my own good... without a doubt
--a patient husband who overlooks my off-the-handle comments in moments of stress
--Bronwyn's independence which, though needing to be curbed at times, already alleviates some of the daily work for me
--the sun peeking out after lots and lots of rain
--grass that is incredibly green because of the dreary rain
--a vacuum cleaner that works and eliminates the greatly-disliked ladybugs from my home
--Jackson's increasingly chubby cheeks
--feeling connected to the outside world even as a stay-at-home mom because of weblogs (what did women do before?!)
--a house that I am more and more in love with every day that I live here
--the privilege of watching and caring for my children everyday, and being the one who shares their every joy and sorrow
--a sister-in-law and sisters, lots of them (Liana and Camilla, too!), who give me regular and undeserved breaks with their babysitting services
--teaching and inspiration that compells me to lift my eyes up
--Gabriel's brilliance
--time to work and time to rest... it's a good plan

Now that I'm on a roll, I could keep going and going. I think I will. But I'll spare you.

Last week my children were playing outside wearing nothing but shorts and T-shirts. Today it is very cold; sunny at last, but cold, nonetheless. It feels like a bit of a setback.

Still, I know spring is coming. One cold day--indeed, even a string of cold days--doesn't change that.

I am not the most optimistic of sorts. And often, in the midst of the setbacks of life, I am convinced that it means that "spring" is never coming.

But that's not true. He said that He will complete the good work He's begun in me. Period. A bad day--indeed, even a string of bad days--doesn't change that.

I'm glad.

I felt pretty pleased.

There were five children here with me tonight. [Four of them in diapers.] Besides my own, I had hers--ages 20 months and 6 months.

When Daniel and Abby arrived home from attending calling hours, the girls had been re-diapered and were ready for bed, the oldest boy was in pajamas, the two youngest boys were already sleeping, and I was doing some bedtime reading with the remaining three. The house was even picked up.

And then I thought, Why am I impressed with myself? I did this for an hour; she has lived this!

Lisa's my hero.