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or if you heart becomes two sizes too small!

Merry Christmas!

Tis the Season . . .

Today I am reading through my postpartum journal, the one I kept during those late night feedings, as I studied the topical guide.
“Tis the Season” is an eclipsed phrase hung around door knockers, shrouded over fireplaces, and shellacked on displays this time of year.
You can fill in the blank or insert the conventional “to be jolly” and the additional
“fa- lalalala...” if you are taken away in the holiday spirit.

But for me, I'm jotting in…

Now, before I get knee-deep in compassionate comments or empathetic e-mails, I am not referring to Emma’s New Year’s Eve due date, but to… well, just keep reading…
The following was scribbled in my journal on the scripture Matthew 12:49
“Verse 50 gives further explanation. It says, ‘whosoever shall do the will of my Father [. . .] the same is my brother, sister, and mother.’ It is interesting that a disciple could be considered Christ’s mother. If we consider what Mary’s mission was for this life and consider her characteristics – it is a very noble role to take on, respectively. One aspect of her role was to provide a temporal body for Christ. As a disciple we are providing ourselves as a body with which Christ can use us for good…”
As I pour over my journal of what I had written, I expect the thoughts I recorded (when I was so far from my recent experience and now as I seem so removed from that time of maternal naivety) to be shallow or amiss… but I don’t get an ounce of satisfaction.
I want to share the following quotes:
In reference to 1 Samuel 1:20:
“’the time was come’” is a perfect description of the requisite of motherhood.”
Inklings of Psalms 113:9:
“Verses 7-9 shows what God does with every man and women that comes unto Him. [ . . . ] a woman who was once barren can become a joyful mother and keeper of the house. God doesn’t make us become more, he helps us meet our potential –which remember is infinite. A beggar can become a prince of nations, so can a barren woman keep the House of Israel. These are not transformations but a progression.”
Tis the Season to be a mother. To provide able bodies, to take considerate and deliberate action, the time has come, and as you counsel with God your abilities will exceed any shortcoming you perceive. Several months ago I read I Am Scout a biography of Harper Lee, and a passage redefined love for me. Before Lee wrote To Kill A Mockingbird, she was living in NYC, dirtpoor, working hard and barely surviving- not even writing. She spent a lot of time with a family by the name of Brown. For Christmas the Browns gave Nelle (Harper Lee's first name) a simple white envelope, within it a note that read "Dear Nelle, You have one year off from your job to write whatever you please. Merry Christmas." They would pay her a year’s worth of wages so she could devote her time to her craft, her calling. Later Nelle wrote, "A full chance for a new life. Not given me by an act of generosity, but by an act of love. ‘Our faith in you’ was really all I had heard them say."
I like the line this quote draws between generosity and an act of love, because they are different. Too many people think of the Atonement as a generous act rather than one of love.
Do you give to others because you are in better standing than them or is it out of genuine care?
Which caused the condescension of God?

This Christmas I do not wish for us to feel loved,
but rather I hope for us to love, genuinely, and in abundance

as only a mother could.

Stocking Stuffers:
First Presidency Christmas Devotional
Are We Not All Mothers?
How Shall This Be?
Good Mary

Perfectly Pear

If you’d ask him, Mike would say my favorite fruit is avocado. He’d be wrong. I adore pears. I find them awfully tasty and terribly romantic. (I mean, haven’t you seen the pear scene from City of Angels?)
But a recent revelation brings new merit to the phrase

you are what you eat.

I was reading CJaneEnjoyIt and I saw her soft delicious center button, that declares her body type is a middle-figured apple, and decided to go to Cardigan Empire and give it a whirl.

BC & AD
Those of you who are mothers know this already, but those of you who aren’t should be naïve no longer-

PREGNANCY, BIRTH and the MOTHERING LIFESTYLE change your body. Period. Expect to buy more clothes than you ever have in the space of a year than you ever had before. There’s the pre-pregnancy clothes, the pre-maternity clothes, the maternity clothes, the post-partum clothes (don’t forget nursing outfits, if you are breastfeeding) and then the “hey-I’m-back-to-my-original-weight-and-nothing-fits-still” clothes. Yay!

BC (Before Caleb) Measurements:

Bust: 35.5

Waist: 26

Hips: 38

AD (After Delivery) Measurements:

B: 34.5

W: 28.5

H: 39

After some math, the results were in. According to Cardigan Empire I was a
Pear!

It gives you a description of your figure, and advice how on how to drape your body type.

One sentence rang true to me:

"Feel free to exercise to your heart's content (hearts like exercise). But when you are done, you'll just be a smaller pear."

This is a fact! I actually weigh LESS than I did BC, and although I climb up and down stairs all day, go on walks, and do fire hydrants- my booty only looks better not smaller.

Nevertheless,

What’s YOUR body type? Post with pride my sisters!

Rookie Mom Mistake #56

Leaving a wipe dispenser unguarded.

Imagination

If you had a baby

you could also have…

a pegged-legged pirate

or a friendly dinosaur in your tub.

Either way.

You’d have a very cute baby, entertaining pictures,

and ways to spend a five-day weekend.

PS Both dinosaurs and pirates say "Arrr!"

The Great Sleep Depression of '08

Oh no, don't be fooled by the cuteness.

Caleb is nothing but TROUBLE!

I caught a cold. I don't know how, (maybe it was Primary, maybe Michael brought something home from work) but I caught it. More like it body-checked me.
You see, all I need to get over a cold is fluids, vitamin C and SLEEP. If I get those three things I'll be good in three days.

But oh no...

poor Caleb. He decided this week (after he got his six month shots) to wake up every hour on the hour from 8:00-4:00. Not only that. He has to be held in order to fall asleep and stay asleep.
Cue the car seat. Rock Caleb to sleep and slip him in the car seat and walk away. This ritual extends his sleep periods by another hour. Three days has past and needless to say, I'm not better. I still have packing to do. (12 more days until we move!)

Although the past three nights have been strenuous on my immune system, I have to admit how much I love my son, and the time I spend with him. After rocking him to sleep I like to just hold him for a little while before sneaking off to bed. It delights and saddens me to study his features and realize he growing far too quickly.
He is growing in his hair, his gummy smile has now sprouted two tiny teeth, he once fit neatly on my lap- now arms and legs dangle over the sides. (By the way, at his doctor's appointment he was measured: 27.75 inches & 17 lbs, 15 oz, and a very large head)

It excites me and makes me want another baby again, so I can have another "newborn" another "2 month old" another "4 month old" and so on.
It makes me think how happy/lucky Heavenly Father is, he has so many children at so many different stages of progression and he gets to witness it all, and is never left for want.

To sum up this posting in other words,

Ah, motherhood. : )