There is more snow today. What was predicted as 1-2" dusting is now in the 5-10" range. How does that happen?
Iain: Mom, nice eyes, nice nose, nice glasses, nice hair. Mama: Thank you, you are sweet. Iain: I love you too, Mom. Mama: I love you too, Iain.
Mornings in my 9th month of pregnancy
Iain: Sniffs the air. Mama, smell something. Mama: Fiona? Did you make a kaka in your pants? I smell something. Fiona: No, a FART! I cleeeeen!
Husband leaving for work... Husband: Kisses wife I love you, honey. Have a good day. Iain: Bye bye Poppa! A hug too? Husband: Bye Iain. Hugs. Fiona:A hug toooooo! Husband: Laughing Bye Fiona. Hugs. Fiona: Kiss toooooo! Husband: Laughs, kisses Fiona. Iain: A forget your lunch bag! Husband: Thank you Iain, I have it. Iain: Taking a bite of toast. Drive safe Papa! Husband: I will drive safe!
Helping clean the kitchen-this is pre-Christmas, hence the tree still up
I sometime get these exciting compliments about PLJ, and I get a super gush of flattery that someone has taken some time to read up on-seriously-the drivel, dribble of my life by exposing the details of our family. These posts can be dense, and it must be that when I get to typing away, I actually picture anyone stumbling across this here blog and just not officially knowing what is going on, it is essential to inflate the picture to show the details-including the sounds, sweat, and tears that flow freely from our abode. I apologize to the dear readers of PLJ, that my lengthy writing, whether it is good, bad or ugly, just starts pouring out, and I do find myself desperately trying to be quick, only to find that I have (yet again) gotten carried away. So as a new year unfolds, thank you to those who do find the time to click over here and read this Mama's thoughts.
Today, I must discuss my fashionable daughter. All of the grandmas, the two of them, keep both of the babes in high fashion. We are so blessed to get these sweet stacks of outfits for both I & F to keep them looking cute from the moment they get in their jammies at night, to the moment they get dressed...at some point during the day. Miss Fiona has taken a keen interest in picking out her clothing in the recent weeks, and "No! A fo-fo shirt. NO!! A PINK fo-fo shirt." Interpretation: I need to find a pink flower shirt. Pink flower shirts are all the rage these days, but this morning, when she asked for THE pink flower shirt, and I found THE pink flower shirt, she changed her mind to ask for a red dog shirt...oh brother.Everything needs to be pink. Except maybe not the shoes....some days she wants the brown shoes, and some days the pink shoes, BUT not the light pink shoes "A udder ones" would be the hot pink shoes. I try to cater to her whims, because if you don't like what you are wearing, your entire day just might go amuck. I mean, I could be interfering with Fiona's dream to walk into story time wearing the right pink coat, with the perfect brown shoes, and the amazing pink flower shirt. Who am I to judge what makes this girl feel like she stepped out of baby Vogue. I just know that we have a problem on our hands, and pretty soon, these doting grandmas will say, "Buy your kids clothes yourself!" and Fiona is just going to look at me and question why her personal shoppers have gone on strike. Even now, she knows was it Mana or Nani that bought her a certain outfit or accessory. I was having an argument with a 20 month old on the fact that I actually bought her a pair of pajamas, and she was insistent that "Mana got! NO Mana got!" Fine. Again. I do not exist.On Christmas Eve, I had the babes dressed up in cute little "matching" in that they both had on black clothes, and I thought it would be cute for them to stand in front of our Christmas tree for a photo. Fiona needed no pleading or prodding, and she gingerly backed herself right up to the Christmas tree to pose for her photo. It was difficult getting Iain settled down and smiling in a normal way, but Fiona just loves the camera. After that night, she has been asking to have her photo taken, and I have noticed that when she feels cute, then she wants to be captured on the digital forever.I have created a monster. I am sure that she will start bossing me around, telling me what I should and should not wear within the year. Pretty soon I will be out of the maternity doldrums and hauling out my nursing wardrobe for the spring and summer months. Oh joy. It will be fine. I have no fears that this little opinionated female will be very vocal about her wardrobe from here on out, so Husband, as we like to say, "You will just have to make more money" to keep your daughter in the lifestyle she has (obviously) grown accustomed to.
Let's first make sure that everyone actually knows who Doodie is...
Somehow, I am thinking 2003 to be date specific, I called my sister "A Doodie" or "You are a Doodie" or something along the reference point, but the name stuck on my little (only by 18 months) sister and the name has stuck like doodie. Ah HA!
Formally, she is known as Sarah (that's Sarah with an H thank you very much) Elizabeth (and yes! Elisabeth with an S...so please see the KJV Elisabeth that carried John the Baptist). My sister has been almost as specific as Anne spelled with an e Shirley from Anne of Green Gables and that has always been perfectly fine with me, because if you can't be specific about how your name is spelled, then what is this world really coming to. If anyone spells my name incorrectly, which used to happen when I existed more than just a Mama or "Jake's wife," it would get spelled like the boy Aaron. Whatever! It's annoying, and the h does make a huge difference, so don't forget it!
This post is truly not an ode (does anyone think that I have pregnancy brain cells thick enough to compose anything truly "Ode" worthy? Please.) but more or less, a specific blog, dedicated to the renewed sisterly love that I have for Doodie. Doodie and I have always been close, through our entire lives. Whether our closeness has been forced upon us by our dominant first born parents by sharing a room for most of our childhood as well as every activity done in tandem, or chosen by the two of us in recent years with phone calls easily lasting longer than an hour and several times a day, we are tight. I am very proud of our relationship during the past several years! After Doodie has gotten over the shock of Husband in my life, we have started settling back into craving a relationship with each other.Driving through Jolly Holiday Lights. Doodie didn't like it. Babes and Husband in the back.
There are so many things that connect us, so how could we not be close?
We were raised on the same musicals and films. This may seem trivial, but when no one else in the world "gets you" and there is someone else that does, and that other person can be singing right along with you, or quoting line upon line of movie/or musical scripts, it is good to not feel so crazy. Ah! A favorite recent story, is when Doodie came for a visit this fall, and we were putting clean sheets on "her" bed in our very sparest of spare rooms, we started singing (in a Jane Powell high soprano, which neither of us can accomplish) "Wonderful, Wonderful Day." Husband was giving the babes a bath right across the hallway, and we heard Iain screaming something as Husband opened the door laughing. "Honey, did you hear what Iain has to say to you?" And Iain starts screaming over top of Husband, "Mama!!!! QUIET!!!!!!!!!!" It is possible for your 2.5 year old to attempt to make you feel crazy while singing show tunes, but it only encouraged us more! But aside from musicals, she has been with me through every strange homeschooling fad, food fad, piano teachers, dance instructors, French tutors, and we did that wonderful trek through Europe.
Doodie is the only sibling that makes regular appearances to our house, and especially to make extended stays. She is very good about visiting, especially since we are very bad about visiting her. She lives the farthest away from her niece and nephew, but makes the jihad to PLJ almost every month, and sometimes more than once a month. When she comes there is great celebration by all, because she puts the Mama in a good mood, she plays with the babes, and she even takes the brutish dogs under her wing. Everyone loves Doodie!
She has most of the time been willing to allow me to drag her to events or on vacations. I think when we were working together at the Rubber Hut, I decided that we needed to make a weekend getaway, "you know, to meet new people and see new faces." I found an article about Hermann, MO, at Christmastime and we made the 5 hour trek to our southern neighbor to discover MO wine country. At one point she didn't want to go, but during or after she was grateful that I had drug her along. She most recently came to see us a day early for the Nutcracker and I drug her to Living History Farms for the Prairie Christmas and the four of us had a blast!
Living History Farms Prairie Christmas- 2009
This could be a good thing or a bad thing...but she is the first to know everything important in my life. Jake showed her "the ring" right before he proposed, and she has been the first to know that I am pregnant. She always has the best family reaction, so I have learned it is best to continue telling her first.
My wedding day with ALL of my siblings. Doodie was my Maid of Honor and Josh and Zach were officially my Bridesmen. I don't care if they didn't like the title, I was the bride and they are my men, so duh! Brides-men!
Doodie is not exempt from her idiosyncrasies, but I am becoming less annoyed by them in my old age, and now I can just laugh. My most recent transfer from annoyance to hilarity is that whenever she comes for a visit she needs to buy something that she forgets such as socks, underwear, bras, shirts, etc. She should just borrow mine, but I think that she must like to collect her accessories when she travels so that she can say, "I love this bra I bought in Des Moines" or "I hate these socks I bought in Des Moines! I'll never do that again!" It could be that with the 3 hour drive here, plus she is a thoroughly modern gal who works a regular job, does not have the opportunity to shop in a decent mall until she arrives in my fine metropolis.
We are the best Venusian pair, since we can sit and talk smack talk about our parents, our brothers, our grandparents and extended family, and strange family friends all while sitting around in our pajamas for most of the day, watching movies and typically working on some sort of fiber art. This summer we started out on a bike ride, but we somehow went to a bunch of "garbage sales" in the neighborhood to find some good deals (end table, rain boots, kids books, gifts) and some uber bad things like a pool that actually turned out to be a jumping pit full of holes. The true Sicilian came out of us on a followup autumn visit, but it technically backfired...it was all hilarious!
Doodie can somehow know to do something fun with I & F, and on her last visit she wanted to take them out sledding. We got everyone bundled up, and for the very brief time before everyone was frozen, I & F got pulled around the yard with Poppa and Doodie tugging the sled through the very deep and thick snow. I knew that I wouldn't be able to go out and lift anyone, so I was on camera duty. It was Fiona's first time in the snow, so it was a big deal.
She came to celebrate New Year's with us this year, and we didn't have to put on anything. fancy or drink anything bubbly. The three of us adults were all perfectly content with sitting watching odd cable TV while I dominated in Iowaopoly (Monopoly with U of I/Iowa City names and places). I did make some rather scrumptious salmon and those naughty Chocolate Suzies. YUM!
Our new baby will have a very special role in I & F's life, but it could be a very special sister connection for Fiona. Now that I am a grown up and can look back with that 20/20 vision, I realize how extremely important my sister has been to me. She stood next to me in those horrible tap dancing costumes when we were kids, and she stood next to me in our beautiful gowns on my wedding day. She has pushed me (running) through the Minneapolis airport in a wheelchair with a broken ankle, she has dropped her life to drive and sit with me in the hospital when I had a kidney infection, and she has held each one of my babies. We had matching pajamas as kids, and we have virtually matching glasses and hair now as adults. She would squat and catch those hundreds of softball pitches when we were kids, and she catches every traumatic phone call I send to her at all hours of the day. "You're never there when I need you, Hiss!" on my voice mail can only send me spiraling to the floor with laughter, but my cup ran over last weekend as we sat watching "Singin' in the Rain" and Iain was laughing all on his own during "Make 'em Laugh" and Fiona said, "Princess fall!" during...that one part. Only someone who has seen the film probably 100+ times could actually appreciate these young buds watching for the first time...Officially Auntie Doodie. Holding Iain, her favorite February nephew...and still the favorite? :)
Auntie Doodie with Fiona, post NICU. Fiona really does like Auntie Doodie too.....and Doodie was there.
Our Christmas tree is still up, and so are the outside lights, so I feel we have a few more nights of Christmas movies. Every year, it is fitting and right that we haul out the Christmas movies to get us in the good spirit of Christmas. In my collection, and must watch each year are:
Irving Berlin's White Christmas-musical with Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye, Rosemary Clooney (auntie to George) and Vera Allen. This was a family favorite growing up. We all wanted to dance like Vera, sing like Rosemary, and my own crazy mother did plan a family vacation to Vermont that was specifically inspired by the movie plot. We liked Vermont so much that we went the following year making the 1,171 mile trek through lake effect snow and accidentally breaking up the trip in Scenectady, NY.
The Muppet Christmas Carol:Frogs, Pigs and Himbug-also a childhood favorite, starting The Great Gonzo as Charles Dickens and Scrooge is played by Michael Caine. Every time we haul this one out, I crack up by hearing some new hidden joke between the lines and Muppet fur.
Meet Me In St. Louis-another great musical, and only part of it takes place during the winter, but this happens at the climax of the film with Judy Garland singing "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas." On the right December day, this is a huge tear jerker.
Little Women- I grew up watching the 1933 version with Katherine Hepburn as the Josephine lead, and then we came across the 1949 version with June Allyson, Peter Lawford, Margaret O'Brien (also in MMISL), and Elizabeth Taylor. In 1994, my sister and I were utterly delighted to go to the theater for a modern version of Little Women. I wore out my VHS copy through the college years, so I was delighted to find a $5DVD so I can watch this version over and over again. I am always overcome with grief when Winnona Ryder, playing Jo, must watch her younger sister Beth, played by Claire Danes, go before her in death. There is always much weeping with that sweeping score. Always having had a very tight, even though tumultuous at times, relationship with my own little sister, the sweet connection that Jo and Beth share can only truly be understood by sisters. And those lines, "Promise you will always remain close by" just always get you at Christmas. Dang it!
Love Actually-hit the screen in 2003, and just post college I was captivated by the story lines of loving someone who is unavailable. Being a hopeless romantic six years ago, I enjoyed this movie immensely! Since I have turned into a realist with only a smear of romantic through my icy veins, I was bawling my eyes out as Emma Thompson's character is thrown under the bus of her marriage by her husband Alan Rickman's creep of a character. Grrr. I am sure I will keep watching it. Especially since Husband suggested we watch it this year. Huge cast of famous people all connected through this film.
The Family Stone-another big list of famous actors, all playing the slightly dysfunctional American family. There are parts of this film that remind me of my own family, in that we have all different dramatic things going on in our lives, and when we all hit that driveway the armor goes up as the barbs and jabs are thrown around the kitchen. This film hits the nerves when a sibling is bringing home that annoying girlfriend/boyfriend for a family holiday...and let's face it! It can be downright uncomfortable and annoying. Another tear jerker for me; when I first saw this in the theater, my grandma had just been diagnosed with lung cancer and she didn't make it to the following Christmas.
The Family Man and It's A Wonderful Life- two great films! Since I am at a new phase in my life, up to my knees in babies, I have a new found appreciation for both of these films and the powerful message behind choices and regret. I laugh harder and cry harder in The Family Man but it's got to be the Italian leaking out of Nicholas Cage.
You've Got Mail-One of my all time favorite movies! Watch it! I know you'll love it. Meg Ryan+Tom Hanks + books and twinkle lights. Oh yeah, you guessed it! I cry during this one too.
Home Alone- Just the first one. I haven't seen this in a long time, but we probably went through a VHS copy as kids. I wonder if I would think this is as funny now that I have a little mischief maker of my very own....
So there is my list ofmy top 10 Christmas films. All of these happen to be in my own personal collection, or they were when growing up, so I can quote all of those funny lines with my movie comrades (you know who you are) and we also can sing all of the songs from the musicals. You got a problem with that?
Yes, you do not see any of those icky Christmas movies on here like The Christmas Story or that horrible Chevy Chase movie. ICK! Dating not the right person in college, I was somehow conned into watching a completely horrible Christmas movie list. I was absolutely horrified at how much this family laughed and laughed through these movies, while I felt I was being tortured. Imagine my dismay when Husband's Christmas repertoire included these same films! I only realized this after we were engaged, and the Christmas Story movie was playing nonstop on TNT at his parents' house for our first Christmas together. I seem to remember informing him that I would not tolerate this film in our house...and I felt it was a deal breaker...so I gave him the option. I tend to throw silly old-tomatoes (ultimatums) like that occasionally. I really meant that one.
I am perfectly accepting and appreciative of the strict rules my mother had for movies when growing up. I guess I don't know what I am missing?...and I am perfectly content in my ignorance of these horrid films. Fortunately for me and for I & F, they love black olives and they will love my Christmas movie repertoire as they grow up...because I am the Mom! I love it.
*I also just realized that there aren't any Santa Claus films on my list, and that would be because we did not have Santa at our house, nor do we now. I remember being very surprised when I was in high school or college and caught my dad watching Miracle on 42nd Street and he said, "Oh this is one of my favorite movies!" I was very confused by this because I had never seen it!
At Christmastime we think of Jesus. This year, it has been a joy to teach my children about the baby Jesus. In their young minds that are actually quite large they saw Christmas trees, Christmas presents, and it was always a delight to see them point out the baby Jesus in a yard nativity or at a store. In my delicate condition, slowly moving around over the Christmas days, I kept thinking about Mary being hauled around on a stinky donkey through the wastelands of Israel to represent themselves for the Roman census. God in His infinite plan, had them get to the place where He wanted Jesus to be born on a specific day and He chose the stinky barn too.
God in His infinite plan has been blessing me with peace during my own pregnancy. A little bit of a debate for everyone has been, "Well, how far along is Erin? When is your due date? When are you expecting?" Anyone that knows me well enough, should know that these queries really aggravate me!! I understand and appreciate the concern and the questions on when "my time" will be to be in labor with this child. However, this baby has been a serious faith leap for Husband and I. We have been overwhelmed by God's blessing in our lives! As crazy and unconventional as we may seem, we have been in prayer and understanding from God over the past 21 months.
Almost 21 months ago, Fiona Lynn was born, and through her birth experience, Husband and I gained a new trust for each other and a new trust and faith in God. We realized that we missed some serious cues from the Holy Spirit, and when we ignored signals of peace and understanding from God, we had to live with answers from man and technology. OK that seems a bit deep even as I read it. The point is that with this baby blessing number three, we are allowing God to be in control. Period. So since we don't know the day of conception, we won't know the exact date of delivery. I have an idea on when the baby might come, but I am leaving the day up to God. "Well, yes Erin! We all know the baby will come when God chooses, but what date has the doctor given you?" Ummm yeah, that is not the point. How can the doctor, midwife, or ultrasound know better than God? And why do we need to have a date to go by? If the baby comes before that magical date, then it was early, and if it comes after the magical date, then it is late. Whether it is psychotic or not, it seriously troubled me before Fiona's birth that she was considered a post term baby by 10 days. Let me give you the quick version:
I, the mother, knew the day that I conceived. Yeah, it's not gross, I just knew. So shoot me! I am the egg carrier, and I did happen to know the day that the sperm got involved.
The midwife didn't trust that I knew the day that I conceived, so she sent me for an ultrasound, because the medical community thinks that they can measure a squirming little baby and tell us how big their bones are, or when they are really tiny and resemble a shrimp shape, they try to measure the opening between the head and toes. Wow! Sounds like they could be really accurate, right?
OK, so back up to that part about me knowing the date of conception...40 weeks from that point, which is the gestation period for a full term baby and also the number of testing in the Bible, would have had Fiona arriving on April 2nd. Now back up to those ultrasound people, they told me March 26. Eight days difference.
So when you have technology involved, and a bunch of know-it-alls, you have to have a baby by a certain day. This is how it works with the hospitals, doctors and midwives that deliver at the hospital.
The Mama is sometimes sitting around with an incorrect due date, with the pressure to perform and pop out a baby in a certain amount of time, by a certain day. It is crappy.
Everyone that this Mama comes in contact with, is used to the due date propaganda, and it really just stems from our human way of wanting to be in control of every situation so that we can plan, plan, plan everything.
If you have seen Seven Brides for Seven Brothers you might remember the bit when Millie tells all of the fighting, kidnapped girls that she is expecting. The lines go, "Millie, when's the baby gonna come?" Millie says, "Well you have to be patient." The girl whines, "But when!" Millie says in plain English, "In the spring." Now this seems to be a good enough answer for all of these wilderness people. "In the spring" should give us a good point of reference for what time of year the baby is expected. Babies were just part of life then, and they would come whenever they were ready, and they didn't worry about getting the right color clothing for the baby, painting the room the right color, and having all types of pre-baby showers. These wilderness farmers, were most likely used to their animals just having their babies, and being done with it: the farmers were there in case they needed to get involved, but the mama animals could just handle things on their own. I've never heard of a cow totally disappointed that she had painted her stall baby pink and was presented with a baby bull. She would never have to explain to the farmer that the hat he had knitted wasn't the right color.
Yes, I am crazy. So shoot me.
I am not hoping to compare myself to an animal having a baby, but why on earth can't we all just be left alone to do our thing and have a baby? When is it coming? What are you having? What about your work schedule? What about my travel schedule? I might not be around...OK! Fine! To all that I love, I mean this in the nicest way...I really don't care where you are or what you are doing. For the third time, I am the one having the baby, and I am the one that will have to deal with it when it comes. I love and appreciate everyone wanting to be around for the phone call, and to help out when they can, but it is so much harder getting my brain ready for the task that I need to perform when everyone is watching me like a pot of boiling water. The reality is that babies don't come like they do on television. My most modern example is when Charlotte is confronting Big on a sidewalk in New York and her water breaks...movie version. Another older example is in Cheaper By the Dozen when the mother is planning number 12 at the hospital and she is packing her bags, most likely getting ready for a twilight sleep type of delivery. Well, maybe since she had already had 11 babies they would have just backed away and said, "Do your thing" at least that is what I would hope
Back to this faith process...the Lord has been teaching me patience with my new role as a mother. I tried explaining this gently to a friend who is trying to have another baby, and is frustrated with waiting to conceive. I will never be able to comprehend the pain and agitation of wanting to conceive, because I have the opposite problem! But I do know that if Husband and I were waiting to start our family, I could have waited forever! In that rather controversial post I made this past spring, I was addicted to my pay check and the thrill of working and being profitable. God has worked on me in other ways! He had to take all of those things away from me in order to teach me patience and to trust in Him to lead and direct my life. Each time we discover that we are pregnant, Husband is excited, and I am terrified. I am regretful each time I know that I have another child growing inside of me. How will I handle this? Why on earth are we doing this now? I told my friend that God may be teaching her patience by waiting to have another baby, but I know He is teaching my patience by having babies. God is teaching me through my daily tasks as a mother to have patience with my children, be waiting on Him for direction for my life and to be the vessel through which He will teach them about Jesus. My cup has been overflowing with joy and blessings far exceeding any bank account or stock portfolio for almost three years.
This next step for Husband and I to trust in God completely for the safety of this new baby, the safety of my health, and knowing that God knows the day and the hour that he or she will enter our lives has been challenging. We are anticipating great rewards and blessings, and we are planning to fly under the radar. With all of the intervention, drama, fear, and feeling that we were out of control with Fiona's birth, we feel so much more secure by allowing God to stand at the helm to direct us through any amount of turbulence. By not allowing fear from anyone in the medical community, fear from our parents, family and friends, we are at peace. This baby will not bring the excitement that Iain brought in being the first, nor will there be excitement that it was a girl with Fiona. But this baby will be the first stress free and performance free pregnancy and birth. This baby will be so exciting for I & F to see and they are already excite to see and feel baby move. And Husband and I are truly Spirit led which hopefully sounds crazy, irresponsible, unconventional and loony to everyone. We will boast in our Lord and praise Him for this miracle of birth that He has designed.
I love this article!
The 7 Feasts of the Lord The Making of a Baby By J. R. Church
Zola Levitt discovered an amazing correlation between the Seven Feasts of the Lord and the gestation of a human baby, from conception to birth. While preparing for writing a book for new parents, Zola contacted a gynecologist for some help in understanding gestation.
During that session, the gynecologist showed him a series of pictures, pointed to the first one (an egg and a sperm) and said, "On the fourteenth day of the first month, the egg appears." The statement struck a chord in his Jewish mind because that was the date of Passover. He remembered the roasted egg on his family table every Passover. Now, for the first time, he knew what it meant! Not wanting to lead the gynecologist off from the subject at hand, but he didn't say anything, but continued to listen.
The gynecologist continued: "The egg must be fertilized within 24 hours, or it will pass on." This reminded Zola of the Feast of Unleavened Bread and the seed or grain that "fell into the ground and died" in order to produce a harvest, the first fruits of which was presented to God.
Next, the gynecologist said, "Within two to six days, the fertilized egg attaches itself to the wall of the womb and begins to grow." And, sure enough, the Jewish evangelist thought, "The Feast of First fruits is observed anywhere from two to six days after Passover!"
Next, he was shown a photo of an embryo showing arms, hands, fingers, legs, feet, toes, a head, eyes, etc. The caption said, "Fifty days." The gynecologist continued, "Around the fiftieth day, the embryo takes on the form of a human being. Until then, we don't know if we have a duck or a tadpole." Zola thought, "That Pentecost!"
The next picture showed the embryo at seven months. The gynecologist said, "On the first day of the seventh month, the baby's hearing is developed. For the first time, it can hear and distinguish sounds outside the womb." Zola knew that was the date for the Jewish Festival of Trumpets.
The gynecologist continued, "On the tenth day of the seventh month, the hemoglobin of the blood changes from that of the mother, to a self-sustaining baby." Zola thought, "That's the Day of Atonement, when the blood was taken into the Holy of holies!"
Next, the gynecologist said, "On the fifteenth day of the seventh month, the lungs become fully developed. If born before then, the baby would have had very difficult time breathing." And Zola thought, "That's the festival of Tabernacles, a time of celebrating the Temple , home of the Shekinah glory or Spirit of God." In the New Testament, the Greek term pneuma, normally translated as "breath," is applied to the "Holy Spirit."
Birth takes place on the tenth day of the ninth month. Eight days after birth, in Jewish families, a son is circumcised. Zola noted that the eight days of Hanukkah are celebrated right on schedule, nine months and ten days after Passover.
No human being could have understood the gestation period 3,500 years ago. The establishment of the Seven Feasts of the Lord was given to Moses by the Lord Himself. Its correlation with the human gestation period is not only remarkable; it proves "Intelligent Design." It proves that there is a Creator God that guides the affairs of man
I do have that great song from Fiddler on the Roof in my head...."Tradition! Tradition!....TRADITION!" thanks to my friend over at matthewswifey.blogspot.com Per Anna's suggestion, I am going to post one of my favorite Christmas traditions.
A little over a week ago, we (my mom, my sister, and I) took I & F to see the Nutcracker Ballet. It was a big deal for the three of us women, to be passing on one of our very favorite Christmas traditions. Was it a crazy idea? Of course! Was it a bad idea? Never! We got all of our Christmas finery put on, some emergency snack equipment (which would turn out to be a mistake) in the big leopard bag, and we braved the ice covered walkways in Sherman Hill.
Ever since I can remember, my parents have taken us to see the Nutcracker. We have seen many different ballet companies perform it, in many different cities, and as we have grown up with seeing the Nutcracker each year, and it is always the same in that the music, the story and the dancing just carries us away. It has also been different each year, with a twist on the story, a live orchestra in most places, the venue could be Hancher, or somewhere in Chicago or Denver, Clara and the Prince could fly away in a sleigh, be pushed on a sleigh, take off in a hot air balloon...sometimes they don't even leave. The props and scenery have been extremely elaborate all the way to barely there. I have been terrified or enchanted by Heir Drosselmeyer. Every year, it is something new but we always go with great anticipation.
I have missed the last couple of years (being pregnant and having small babies) but the first year that Husband and I were engaged, we went to see the Nutcracker at Hoyt Sherman in Des Moines. With all of the years watching professional ballet companies, namely the Joeffry Ballet, perform with exquisite precision, and most of the time listening to an official live symphony perform Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker Suite, I was slightly...OK I confess...I was greatly disappointed that year watching Ballet Des Moines. The company hired professional people to play the very important lead rolls like the Sugar Plum Fairy and the Cavalier, but the rest of the performers were young girls taking on (what I had always seen as) these huge roles as the Chocolate from Spain, the Coffee from Arabia, and many other rich and . The second act in the Land of the Sweets has always been my favorite, but I left that performance less than satiated. My expectations were snotty. I know it is because, I confess, am a Nutcracker snot!Even though this year was probably very similar to the year that Husband and I went, in my new role as a Mama, I was so impressed with the young ballet company performing all of the parts that I had always seen adults perform. Ballet Des Moines has grown with precision and poise, and I was teary eyed watching little baby mice and gingerbread babies come scurrying out on stage and hoping that one day my little babes could have a chance to at least try out. Unfortunately (or fortunately) Freud was standing next to me in line for the potty at intermission, and she said, "Can you imagine all of the kids that were cut during try outs?!" I immediately shot back at her, "Yes, and imagine all of the kids that wanted to try out, but didn't meet the requirements to even audition!" She looked at me puzzled, and I said, "I always dreamed of being in the Nutcracker, but I was always too tall, so I couldnt' even try out." She just said, "Ohhhh." In some creepy, cleansing way, I was able to let a complete stranger in to my tormented dreams of always wanting to be in the Nutcracker. I seemed to grow every year, and finally I stopped asking my mom to measure me...or maybe I didn't, but I just always expected that maybe I hadn't grown out of the requirement height boundaries. I was so delighted to realize that this local production might possibly be the "recital" for all of the young dancers. How wonderful that their solos, duets, group performances were all a collaborative end of year production that had some purpose! Now that I am officially too old, too tall, and too large, oh and too old to ever be a ballerina, I was completely able to enjoy the dance at any level.Iain, on the other hand, told me in line for the potty, "Mama, no more princess show." Uh oh...
This year, as the curtain was lifted, I was again transformed into a wide-eyed child with the party scene and all of the festivities that come at Christmastime. I was able to see through the eyes of my Iain who quietly sat on my lap, engrossed with all of the children dancing and playing on stage. I loved pointing out all of the little nuances of the ballet that have always been my favorite, and he nodded with his thumb resting quietly in his mouth. A quick glance down the row of seats, and I saw my darling Fiona perched on her Mana's lap, watching all of the moves and jumps of the "princesses" in all of their costume finery and pointy toe shoes.I + F made it as far as the "Waltz of the Flowers" and it was time to sneak out of the theatre. I was a bit depressed that we were making too much noise and had to leave, so I looked at my sister and mother and whined, "This is my favorite part coming up...the Pas de deux!" My sister whined with me and said, "Mine too!" Mana was so gracious and said we could sneak back in and watch a bit more. We were just standing in the aisle, and giggling at each other as we were getting our own fix of tradition. How could we be there, hear the music, and not want to see all of it?! Pretty soon, we heard little voices reminding me that the almost 3 year old and 1.5 year old did very well by sitting through almost 2 full hours of ballet. That is more than most grown men can handle! So we scooted out, to take little people home for naps.Husband and I say each year that we need to start our own traditions at the Little Josephs. Each year we battle each other's own family traditions, and if there is stress it is that difficult time when we have to release some of our own childhood traditions and build with each other for traditions we make with our own babes. We are keeping some, and modifying others. This year has been a tear jerker for this Mama as I hang up my own childhood Christmas ornaments along side with the collections that have already begun for my children. Each one of mine has a special memory for me, and each one of theirs has a special memory for me too. I am afraid it will be all too soon, that our tree will become naked as they go off and need their own ornaments to decorate with. Their little voices speak truth about the baby Jesus and the angels, and their excitement just pours out when we sing "Chri-me-mas" songs. As we get close to another turn of the calendar, God is so good. That is all I know today.
I am having some serious struggles with my little man today. Disobedience, defiance, laziness, back talking...the list goes on and on. We had to leave the house today. The days inside on the sub-zero days, I know we need to stay inside. I can barely let the dogs out without my skin instantly freezing. It would be too difficult for me to take I & F anywhere productive, and there is always that thought in the back of my head: "What if the car dies? What if we get a flat tire? What if someone else slams into us as we are driving around?" The confines of our warm home are fitting on those days, but with the forecast today...we could reach 20 degrees and the sun is shining, it was time for an adventure.
There are all sorts of things in our community for those cabin feverish days. I had been reading through our community datebook and found that there was a story hour at the nature lodge. We went a couple of weeks ago, and this over critical Mama was very disappointed at the organization (or lack thereof) of the program, the wasted time during this "story hour" that the coordinator spent eating her microwaved lunch and sucking down her Diet Coke for 30 minutes of the story hour did not sit well with me. We were in a rather small room which housed many different creepy crawly creatures on the perimeter. The rodents that Iain was interested in, I was disgusted with, and the reptilian and amphibian life that didn't bother me as much was terrifying him. He couldn't listen to the two stories that we heard because he kept realizing that he was "scared" with this little snake that was 4 feet away from him, in a rather thin looking plastic type cage. The sun was starting to hit this cold blooded guy, and he was becoming quite active in the short amount of time we were sitting there. We then cut out snowflakes, but in my cloud of negativity, I couldn't handle the spray adhesive fumes that were apparently necessary for the glitter on the snowflakes, so we high tailed it out of there, grasping for fresh air.
Today, I was directed to a Christian bookstore, that had a story hour, with coupons for purchases made, free cookies for the kids, and a very fun, fume free craft for the babes. We had true Christmas stories that were beautifully illustrated, full of truth, and oh yeah! lots of words! I forgot that the lady at the nature lodge, picked up a book, but put it down after she started it and said, "This book has too many words in it!" Iain did not want to participate at this story hour at the bookstore. Fiona was sitting on my lap, and being relatively good, and she patiently waited while Iain fought with me during our candy cane pipe cleaner craft. Iain was pouting and complaining, if a two year old can pout and complain...yes they can! and asking to go and ride the choo choo train at the mall. I promised that if he behaved and obeyed we would go after the time we had looking at books. Fiona diligently strung alternating red and white beads onto the pipe cleaner, and would only allow me to hold it steady for her. Any time I tried to help her, she would say, "No Mama! I-do-it"
Iain continued to do everything I asked him not to, and after the final fight to get into the car, I told him that there would be no train ride today. He had a mini-tantrum, and as we got closer to the house, he told me "I bad. I choo choo train." When I told him he had been bad, he finally realized the fight was over. We had situations during lunch, and then he went down for an early nap with Fiona.
The ritual started, and he needed to be tucked in, a kiss, a hug, and "Pray Mama." We prayed, and I asked Jesus to help Iain with his attitude and to be obedient. About 30 minutes into the nap, he came running down the hallway to tell me he had to peepee. Excellent! Let's go! We were productive, and then it was time for the nap. In the bathroom, he asked for another hug and kiss, and for me to pray again. It is all very cute and sweet, and his requests do tug on my heart strings, but I also know that these requests are stall tactics and he will take hug after kiss after prayer all night and all day so he doesn't have to go to bed. So I had the idea to have Iain pray on his own.
He took my hand and said: "Jesus, a bleda rocha (toddler babble) I bad today and a no choo choo train, a blah blah bleh bleh (more babble) and Poppa working, at the jewelry store, a diamonds, a be good, and Jesus Amen!"
About 20 minutes later, more frantic clambering down the hallway, "Mama! I go kaka!" Excellent! Great! Let's do it! Again, he was productive, but kept starting and stalling, and there was lots of wiping, and getting up in between...more stalling. "Iain, time to get down to bed and take your nap." "Ok Mom!" He starts to run into his bedroom, and turns around to asks to be tucked in, another hug, another kiss, and more praying. Again, I know that I will want him to ask me for hugs and kisses someday, and I love it when he does, but he is sooo clever with the stall-outs! I told him to pray again. "OK mom! A dear Jesus, I bad today and no choo choo train ride. Mama! A close eyes and down head! Babble babble...and Poppa working, at the jewelry store, and Foner asleep, and Eenie asleep, and Jesus AMEN! I pray Mama!"
I am amazed to see how his little heart was convicted, because during our first prayer today, I prayed that the Lord would work on his heart so that he would be obedient and follow directions on the 1st time and not waiting until the 5th time...it seemed that he must have understood that my final resort, and should have been my first resort, was to talk to Jesus about Iain's behavior. The little man is sleeping, and obediently staying in bed. The nap interruptions today were those wonderful bathroom requests that we have been working so hard to accomplish, and praise the Lord for those heart changes as well! So my little sponge was outpouring today, and from his mouth there is truth to be heard and growth in his soft little heart.
Mornings in my 9th month of pregnancy
Helping clean the kitchen-this is pre-Christmas, hence the tree still up
