Best. Christmas. Ever.

 It was overwhelming. But it was pretty darn perfect. 

We started our morning very peacefully, just the three of us. I'll cherish this photo forever.

And this is one of my favorite pictures. I can't look at it without laughing.

The icing on the cake was experiencing my first-ever WHITE Christmas! It was very special to be able to have my first white Christmas, my husband's first white Christmas and my son's first white Christmas all be at the same time. How exciting!

Merry Christmas!

For to us a child is born,
   to us a son is given,
   and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
   Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
   Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
 -- Isaiah 9:6

O Holy Night

I've known this song since I was a child. I've always thought "O Holy Night" sounded powerful when sung by a choir. I've sung the lyrics a thousand times. Somehow, I never actually let the lyrics soak in. 

This year, I did. 

Long lay the world in sin and error pining

'Til He appeared, and the soul felt its worth

A thrill of hope

The weary world rejoices

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!

WOW. 

Chills.

That's the hope of Jesus right there. Just packed right into a few lines of a song. I've never seen such a powerful statement in so few words.

For to us a child is born

Christmas has always been special to me. What makes it special has evolved over the years. But this year has been the most meaningful, by far. R's birth provided me with the missing piece to truly feel the wonder and miracle of Christmas.

I vividly remember the amazement I felt as I held my baby boy for the first time. I remember thanking God for giving me such a precious little boy. My heart swelled with pride. I wish for great things for my son. I pray for him to grow into a strong, intelligent man who loves the Lord.

But can you imagine how Mary felt knowing that her son would be greater than any other? She gave birth to the Savior of the world! It must have been infinitely greater than the wonder I felt when I held R for the first time. Can you imagine? I love the lyrics to this song...

Mary Did You Know?

Mary did you know that your baby boy will one day walk on water?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will save our sons and daughters?
Did you know that your baby boy has come to make you new?
This child that you've delivered, will soon deliver you.

Mary did you know that your baby boy will give sight to a blind man?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will calm a storm with his hand?
Did you know that your baby boy has walked where angels trod?
And when you kiss your little baby, you have kissed the face of God.

The blind will see, the deaf will hear and the dead will live again.
The lame will leap, the dumb will speak, the praises of the lamb.

Mary did you know that your baby boy is Lord of all creation?
Mary did you know that your baby boy will one day rule the nations?
Did you know that your baby boy is heaven's perfect Lamb?
This sleeping child you're holding is the great I am.

As a mother, I have...

• A lot of tiny, finger-shaped bruises (especially on that really tender back-of-bicep part of your arm).
• A slew of scratches from razor-sharp fingernails that grow lightening fast.
• A passel of mystery bruises on my legs. 
• A hamper full of drool-stained shirts.
• A never-ending soreness in my lower and mid back.
• A bunch of clothes that don't fit quite right anymore.
• An ever-present distraction that disallows me to focus 100% on anything else. 
• A heart that's bursting at the seams with an awesome, overflowing, unconditional love.

Christmas Cards

I'm always a little late to the game on the Christmas cards. This year I honestly tried to get to it quicker. I wanted to get pictures done specifically for our cards. I wanted this year to be different, because this is R's first year on our Christmas cards. I kept asking Jason when we could take pictures. It finally became December and I realized that wasn't going to happen. Reluctantly, I used an existing picture to create our cards.

Fast forward to today. I hadn't ordered the cards yet. Reason: I was waiting to finish uploading pictures to Shutterfly for another Christmas present. I didn't want to pay shipping, so I wanted to order them together. Valid reason, right?

This afternoon, I went to the post office and bought stamps...before I'd ordered the cards. That got my butt in gear to order the cards. 125 of them. Yowza! Now, let's just hope that they arrive in time to get them out before Christmas. You can bet your bottom dollar that I'm not hand addressing them this year!

Side note: Regardless of the outcome, this year's cards are destined to be better than the year that I decided not to do cards...only to feel guilty after I received a bunch in the mail. I then ordered "Happy New Year" cards. Good one, Elizabeth.

Just call me Rachael Ray

Okay, maybe that's a little extreme.

But, I have found that, now that I'm home all day, I enjoy cooking. Granted, it does take some pretty careful planning on my part, a cooperative baby and the grace of God to get a meal prepared sometimes. When all the pieces come together, though, I do like to cook.

Today, I put together some homemade broccoli soup and banana pudding to take to some friends for dinner tonight. I'm very much looking forward to the rewarding part: eating it.

I hope my cooking motivation keeps up, because I'd like to do a better job of using natural ingredients to cook real meals as R gets older and starts eating table food. Right now I do far too much from a can or a box.

In the still of the night

I've been a night owl for as long as I can remember. I can stay up as late as you want me to, just don't ask me to get up early too often, okay?

I had a meeting for church at the home of some of our friends tonight. I took R with me, hoping that I could put him to bed there and just perform what Jason and I call a "baby transplant" later to bring him home. Evidently there was too much going on, and R just looked at me and smiled instead of going to sleep. In order to avoid certain disaster, I scooped him up, headed home and trusted that Jason would fill me in later on the details of the meeting.

The best way to get back home was through a series of back roads through the middle of nowhere. I was a little bummed to have my grand plan crash in on me, but I quickly found myself at peace, rather than ill. Why? Because I found myself in the middle of a dark night, driving down mostly empty roads and staring at a starry sky. I love that. And, for the first time, I began to wonder why I enjoy it quite so much.

I think I might have found the answer. (Maybe.) Settle in, this might be a long one.

I went to a fabulous summer camp when I was younger. It's called Camp Winshape. Every summer, I took two weeks to head to middle of nowhere Rome, Georgia, and experience pure bliss on Berry College's campus. Truett Cathy, the founder of Chick-fil-a, started Camp Winshape, and I thank him for it. It's a perfect little Christian summer camp that built me up and left me with lifelong memories. 

One of the greatest experiences of my life took place there. 

Toward the end of every two week session, there was an optional challenge for the oldest campers. I, being the ever-so-competitive person I am, was not one to turn down a challenge. So, my last year of camp, when I was 16 years old, I embarked on the 24-hour Challenge of Possum Trot. 

The challenge was very involved, but always began late at night (11 p.m., I think) with each participant embarking on a talking ban. From that point forward, no words or noises are to come from your mouth. The challenge was progressive, and any mistake resulted in disqualification. 

After taking the vow of silence, participants took what they called a "brisk walk" to Possum Trot. This "brisk walk" was truly a seven-mile jog. The campers had backpacks, but no flashlights, and were required to keep a pace that would keep them following the lead counselor, but not let them fall behind the counselor in the rear. (Thus, the "brisk" pace was set.)

Part of the jog was in the middle of the woods on a gravel path. No flashlight. Literally the only way I knew where to run was by following the sounds of the feet hitting the gravel ahead of me. After what seemed like a never-ending trek through the nearly pitch black darkness of the woods, we came to the end of the tree line. Fields stretched out to either side, and the sky sparkled with shining stars. 

Remember, this camp is in the middle of nowhere. The farther you are from city lights, the brighter the stars appear. 

I vividly remember that image. I remember the way the path felt beneath my feet. I remember the fence along the field. I remember the black night and the shining stars.

But, most of all, I remember how I felt. I was close to God. So close. That was probably the first time in my life that I truly, undoubtedly felt His presence. 

I don't know how long that stretch of trail was. But, at that point, I was so focused and so prayerful. It was one of the purest moments in my life. 

That, my friends, is the best explanation I can create for why I feel so comfortable - so at home - in the middle of nowhere on a dark, starry night. I love appreciating God's beauty during sunsets, on the ocean, in the mountains. But there's something special to me about the simple beauty of a starry night and the closeness I feel when He and I can share some time alone in the middle of nowhere.

Lift up your eyes and look to the heavens:
   Who created all these?
He who brings out the starry host one by one
   and calls forth each of them by name.
Because of his great power and mighty strength,
   not one of them is missing.
-- Isaiah 40:26

Slipping

And here's why I don't blog. I'm slipping away from it yet again. Two weeks with no blog makes me slack, I do believe.

And time is slipping away from me. It always has. It always does. And it seems to slip faster and faster with each passing year. I'm afraid to think how quickly the time will pass when I'm 80.

And fall is quickly slipping away as well. I'm not even sure we really had a fall. Maybe we had a couple of days sprinkled in here and there, but they weren't even consecutive. Last week, it was in the 80's. This week, I can't get warm. Welcome to SC, people!

Here's to attempting to slip in a few more blogs before year's end...and hoping time doesn't fly so quickly that Christmas smacks me upside the head at 90 miles per hour and knocks me out.

Oh to stand atop the world

That's it. Mt. Everest. I've been absolutely fascinated with that mountain since high school. I have no idea what prompted it. But, in the last decade or more, I've read practically every book written about Mt. Everest. I've watched dozens of documentaries. I even have my DVR set to autorecord any program about Everest that airs. 

I used to be infatuated with wanting to climb Everest. I don't know what the draw is, exactly. It might be wanting to stand on top of the world. Maybe it's the lure of joining an exclusive club. Perhaps it's the challenge.

Then I realized that I don't have the time or the money to undertake such a project. (It costs about $65,000 just to join an expedition, get permits, etc. That doesn't include any training, airfare or personal equipment.) In a sense, the last several years have dashed my hopes of standing on top of the world. 

So my latest idea to keep that dream alive is to at least see the mountain. I could do a trek to Everest Base Camp for about $4,000 + airfare. Is that crazy? I mean, it's a far cry from the $100K it would cost me to actually climb the thing, right? It'll be a few years yet before I'd feel ready to leave my baby to go undertake that journey, but I think it's something I want to do eventually. 

If I get up there, maybe it'll pacify my desire to climb Everest. Maybe I just need to see it. Or maybe that will give legs to the bigger dream...

My history with history

One of my least favorite subjects in school was always history. I didn't enjoy studying it. I didn't enjoy sitting through history class. I just never could seem to commit historical facts to memory. In fact, my only two college C's were in my two required history classes. (I still regret that I didn't choose to S/U those two classes.)

As I've gotten older, I've realized I love history. But I love the history that I want to study. There are several historical events/things which absolutely fascinate me. The Titanic. September 11th. Anything related to Mt. Everest. 

And, lately, I'm soaking up all of the interviews George W. Bush - "43" - is giving to support his book, "Decision Points." I've read - and enjoyed - a lot of non-fiction books about the "historical" events which interest me. I think this one will be next on my list.

Never again

Life with a new baby makes some things take a back seat. Sometimes it's intentional; sometimes it just happens. 

Our poor little pup, Piper, doesn't get as much attention from me as she used to...unless it's me scolding her for barking and/or growling at nothing (usually when the baby is trying to sleep).

The new parent adjustment period also caused us to slack a bit on Piper's annual check-up at the vet.  What got me off my butt to get her to the vet? I called the kennel to make a reservation for Piper for when we'll be out of town soon, and they asked if she was current on her shots. 

Ouch. I'm certainly not proud of it. But, at least it reminded me. I set an appointment and took her into the vet today. The appointment was at 3:50. So, I loaded up the dog and the boy, and off we went. I was excited that the appointment worked out perfectly with the baby's schedule for the day, and it would give me an opportunity to get to the chiropractor for a post-concert back adjustment.

Wrong.

See, I'm not the one who usually takes Piper to the vet. That's usually Jason's job. I was under the impression that I'd drop her off, head to the chiropractor's office for my adjustment, then swing back by to pick the pup up.

Wrong.

I didn't realize that I would be staying for the entire exam, shots and anal violation of my furry friend. Minor inconvenience, right?

Wrong.

Try simultaneously carrying an almost 15-pound infant (in a car seat), wearing a diaper bag on your shoulder and directing/dragging a 32-pound, terrified dog. It turns you into a wide load that's driving recklessly.

Not easy. Not fun. Not something I'm willing to try again in this century.

When I find mystery bruises later, remind me that I probably received them during this lapse in judgment. 

Piper, before she realized where 

the  fun car ride would end.

One of my favorite things

I just laughed so hard I cried. It doesn't get much better than that. This is why.

When the hubby is away...

My husband used to travel a lot for work. During that time, I got accustomed to staying by myself in our house when he was out of town. It never bothered me much, because I used to live by myself anyway. In fact, it was a little refreshing sometimes, because it meant that I could have some extra "me" time. ("Me" time is a necessity in my life.)

A while back, his job description shifted and put an end to the regular travel. That was good. It was time. And I'm not sure we would have had our son if the travel had continued. (That's one thing you just can't do over the phone.)

Since the travel schedule slowed, I gradually forgot what it was like for Jason to go away and leave me here alone. Jason returns today from a five-day mission/vision trip to Venezuela for our church. Here are a few of the things that haven't changed since the last time he traveled:

• Our animals (one dog, one cat) go buck wild when he's gone. Buck wild. I must not pay them enough attention.
• The animals feel the need to add to my to-do list each day. Each morning I've been presented with something different to clean up. Dog poop/pee on the rug by the back door. Cat pee on the chair. Animal puke in the dining room. Dog puke on the living room rug. 
• The dog forgets how to behave when I leave for a couple of hours. Basically, I find something that wasn't on the floor (and still shouldn't be on the floor) every time I return home. Napkins. Trash. Dirty diapers. Baby clothes. Kitchen stuff. 
• I sleep exceptionally well when I have our bed all to myself.
• To aid in maximum bed hogging enjoyment, I change the sheets when he leaves so that I can enjoy time with the covers just the way I like them. (I also shave my legs that first day that I'll be sleeping on new sheets. Hooray clean sheet night!)
• I fall asleep with the TV on. 
• The cat sleeps with me.
• I end up being really busy most of the time. Even when I try not to make plans, I end up with them. (This cuts into desired "me" time, but helps the time to pass quickly.)
• I eat cereal for dinner at least once.
• I miss him.

Happy Baby

I have a 3.5-month-old baby. He is adorable. And he's happy. 

He smiles and giggles all the time. 

His smile involves his entire face: he grins from ear to ear; he flashes those toothless gums; his eyes narrow and light up; his cheeks swell. Oh, and he has dimples. (We have no idea where he got them.)

The only thing cuter than his smile is when he giggles. (Picture the previous description with a tiny, yet forceful, uncontrollable laugh.) 

I am so stinkin' blessed.

I have no lid upon my head, but if I did...

I've always enjoyed personality tests. I don't always agree with them, but I enjoy playing with them and analyzing whether or not I deem them to be accurate. 

I have a firm grasp on who I am, at my core...and what makes me tick.

I came across this one while reading my inspiration's blog archives. I think it pegged her pretty well; and I think it's pretty right on for me, too. 

It seems remarkably accurate, especially to have as few questions as it did. These are (supposedly) my top 10 traits out of 90.

I've crossed out the pieces and parts which I thought to be a bit off-base for how I see myself. 

Organized

You like to think a task through before you embark on it. If it's the slightest bit complicated, you make a list (even if it's only in your mind) and methodically work your way through it. When you have a goal in mind, you're not satisfied until you reach it.

You are not one of those people who ignore the details, and you don't understand how anyone can get anything accomplished without thoughtful planning ahead of time.

Aesthetic

You appreciate art, beauty, and design; you know that they are not superficial but absolutely crucial to living the good life. You have good taste, and you're proud of it. Those with a high score on the "aesthetic" trait are often employed in literary or artistic professions, enjoy domestic activities — doing things around the house — and are enthusiastic about the arts, reading, and travel.

You don't think it's pretentious to be moved by art and beauty. You're not one of those who believe it doesn't matter what something looks like as long as it does its job.

Competent

You strive to master everything you undertake. You tend to learn quickly and do not shy away from challenges.

You are not a "que sera sera" type of person, nor do you go easy on yourself when attempting to master a new skill or get a job done.

Intellectual

You are thoughtful, rational, and comfortable in the world of ideas. People find you interesting to talk to. You're the living embodiment of the saying "You learn something new every day." In general, those with a high score on the "intellectual" trait are employed in such fields as teaching and research, and are enthusiastic about reading, foreign films, and classical music.

You do not avoid abstract conversation, experimenting with new ideas, or studying new things. It bores you to stick to the straight and narrow of what you already know.

Assertive

You behave in a confident and forceful manner, take charge of the situation, raise your hand in class, stand up for what you think is right, and lead others. Among those who have a high score on the "assertive" trait, many have jobs in which they are valued for their organizational skills as well as their talent for supervising others.

You are not interested in fading into the woodwork, leaving everything to fate, taking more time than necessary to accomplish a task, or avoiding confrontation.

Accessible

You're comfortable expressing yourself in words and actions, with no self-censorship. You believe that if someone doesn't like what they see it's not your problem, but theirs. A high score on the "accessible" trait suggests that you have a lot of friends, socialize often, and enjoy rap/hip-hop music.

You don't see the need to keep your thoughts to yourself, or to have a zone of privacy that encompasses only yourself and a small circle of friends and relatives.

Warm

You have a genuine interest in other people. You're a natural host, and are always thinking about how you can increase the happiness of those around you. When friends have problems or are in trouble, you're usually the first person they turn to for aid and comfort. Scoring high on the "warm" trait suggests that you are among those who enjoy domestic activities — doing things around the house — and are enthusiastic about charitable work, helping others, and making the world a better place.

You don't always say exactly what you're thinking; you don't like the idea of causing anyone pain because of your criticism.

Understanding

You are willing to take the time to find out what's going on with other people, especially if they're in distress. You're a good listener, you don't criticize, and you offer unbiased, respectful, honest advice when it's requested. With a high score on the "understanding" trait, it is likely that you are enthusiastic about charitable work, helping others, and making the world a better place.

You don't feel the need to impose your standards on others or say things that, even though true, cause pain.

Conscientious

You feel it's important to work according to a plan and finish every task, to do things correctly and thoroughly.

You are not the kind of person who abandons a project before finishing it, or slacks off when you've lost interest.

Astute

You are a quick study. You generally don't need to have things explained to you more than once. When presented with a problem, you will often have an instant understanding of where to look for the solution.

You do not take your sweet time when presented with a new task to complete or problem to solve. You don't avoid assignments that require you to learn new skills.

The only seemingly contradictory points within this analysis are:

• You don't see the need to keep your thoughts to yourself... (Accessible)
• You don't always say exactly what you're thinking; you don't like the idea of causing anyone pain because of your criticism. (Warm)

Strangely enough, I understand how these two statements are both true and both exist within my personality.

Tiptoeing into blogdom

 

I'm starting to think in blogs. But I haven't jumped on the computer with all of these thoughts as they've come to me over the past few days. I've considered a few quotes a rant or two and an inspirational thought. 

But I'm pacing myself.

I know myself well enough to know that I run the risk of getting bored or "over it" if I throw myself at blogging 24/7.

I'm also still sorting through what I want this blog to be. 

Another step I have yet to take is to tell anyone about this new blogging attempt. I'm still wrestling with the idea of whether I'm comfortable with sharing so openly and publicly. 

Only time will tell... 

Vacuuming is a necessary evil

I hate vacuuming. In fact, until just a few months ago, I didn't vacuum. That was my husband's job. Of course, since our son was born, I've been much more diligent about cleaning; and I've take back the vacuuming duties. 

Sometimes, though, I am still slack. Today, I just couldn't take it anymore. I was afraid that the furballs floating around the floor would grow legs and become household pets. So, I relented and busted out the trusty Bissell.

And here is (part of) what I thought while undertaking this heinous task:

• It is darn near impossible to vacuum well while holding an infant.
• I'm not sure how either of my pets has any fur left. (Especially the cat.)
• I will not be replacing these animals when they die.
• I always thought the light on the front of the vacuum was stupid. However, I discovered that it is handy when you dip into the bathroom for a quick sweep. At the very least, it illuminates the cat fur that's floating around. 
• My living room rug is, in fact, colored...not just shades of grey.
• I'm ridiculously glad that our vacuum doesn't require vacuum bags. (I'd go broke buying them.)
• The flooring company did a great job installing our wood floors, but a terrible job nailing in the quarter-round at the baseboards. I need to figure out how to fix that before my kid starts crawling and pulling pieces - nails and all - out of the wall.

Elizabeth launches a blog: Take 3

Or is it my fourth attempt? Either way, I have attempted several times to become a blogger. I've always failed miserably. I'm not entirely sure of the reason. Maybe it's because I feel like my ramblings are a bit mundane and uninteresting. Maybe it's because I'm unwilling or uncomfortable to be completely unfiltered in such a public setting.

I'm launching this latest attempt in response to the passing of a friend. When a friend dies (as I've experienced entirely too many times in my short life), I find myself combing the internet for pieces of that person. In some strange way, it's like the internet paper trail keeps a person alive. In my search after her death last week, I stumbled back upon something I used to read, but had drifted away from. See, she was an avid blogger. Now that she is gone, I've found myself engulfed by the pages of her blog. She was so real. So candid. So full of life. I'm sad that she is gone...even sadder at how it happened. But, I've found that it's a nice comfort to relive bits of her life in her own words.

And, thus, I've been inspired (once again) to try.