Thursday, February 28, 2008

What will Sam see in his lifetime?

Do you ever get the feeling that certain technologies are just passing you by? Some of you may be reading my blog thinking, "Yeah...what the heck is a blog?" I understand that. The internet is a scary world full of endless possibilities and countless dangers...only if, of course, someone would explain to you what an html code is and how to get one. I'm that way with little things. Products. Services. People posing solutions to problems I didn't realize that I had. For instance, did you know that after 45 minutes, you stop smelling your air freshner? That's right. Apparently your nose has a 45 minute tolerance of faux floral smells. Well, thankfully, they have invented a plug-in scented air freshner that has a rotation of 3 scents. Yup, every 45 minutes your nose can be re-awakened with an entirely new smell so that you will never forget the fact that you have to simulate the smells of nature to cover up the random odor coming out of your 25 year old garbage disposal. Upon learning this, I feel that there is no need to worry about silly, insignificant things like the presidential election...Glade has solved all of our big problems. Thank goodness someone is tapped into the pulse of the American people.

Seeing that commercial and thinking back to my version of "simpler times", I was reminded of what my grandfather said as he watched Sam playing on the floor one day. "What will he see in his lifetime?" Such a great question. What did we know of the Glade Plug-in twenty years ago? My grandfather saw a lot. He was born in the 20's. From then until now, I imagine he has seen a lot of things change, improve and even get more complicated. Yes, "What will Sam see in his lifetime?" I have to be honest, that question scared me a little.
You watch the news and read the paper (or the internet version) and its very easy to get worked up about the state of our world. After all, the world can be a depressing place. Ask anyone who TIVO's Dr. Phil. It sometimes even makes me afraid for my son. I want to keep him indoors with a helmet on and a disaster survival kit strapped to his back. What kind of world will he grow up in? What things will he have to endure. What will make him sad? Will I be there to protect him from it all? Then I remember the most important job that Andy and I have as parents (and no, its not to make sure that everything he's ever licked wasn't made in China). As parents, we are supposed to "train him up". Our job is to make sure he learns about the love of Christ.

After all, when you have a Christ-centered life, you don't fear the world around you. You light it up! You are the Christ that the world sees...and what a wonderful time to be that light. How honored I feel that Sam was born for such a time as this and it reminded me of a card I received from my aunt when he was born: "Just Think: Your son is here not by chance, but by God's choosing. His hand formed him and made him the person he is. God compares him to no one else-he is one of a kind. Your son will lack nothing that God's grace can't give him. God has allowed your son to be here at this time in history to fulfill His special purpose for this generation." - Roy Lessin

As long as I remember that, I don't fear for Sam. I know that God has his eye on him...even when I don't. It makes me think about the question "What will Sam see in his lifetime?" and instead of cringing, I can adjust that sentence...it should be "What will Sam get to see in his lifetime before he joins God and the rest of his family in eternity?" Now, is that so scary?

Now I leave you tonight with a homework assignment...reread the quote above and replace all of the "your son's" and the "hims" with "you" and go light up the world today!



Sam's mom

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Day to Day...Sam's Mom Speaks

Routine? What is this? In the first three months (or every month your little one isn't sleeping through the night) you think your life will never be the same. And, truthfully, it won't. But what will happen is the agony and fatigue of the first few months will ever so slowly morph into something that appears to be a routine. You won't realize you're getting sleep at first...but one day you look at your husband and you see that he's sitting in the room watching tv WITH you instead of hiding out in the back where the other, smaller tv is in hopes that you won't notice he's not there. That is the sign. You are no longer an intimidating, big haired, raving mad woman on day four of the same pajamas. You have returned to the woman that your husband married. Okay, get up off the floor...you're right, I'm kidding. While you are no where near the woman that your husband married...you are at least barely tolerable. You have exited the newborn baby blahs where your child is adorable but its very hard to give it its full appreciation when you are crying in the kitchen because you ran out of coffee filters or you're blubbering in the bathroom because the towels don't wrap around your waist as tight as they used to. You have joined the land of the living...and that is where you begin to value your routine. Once you get there...being a parent seems almost managable. My mother-in-law did say..."If you can just get a good nights sleep, you can handle anything." I whole-heartedly agree with that statement.

For me, I'm in bed by 9 or 10. At six, Sam is up and hungry. From there you get your morning jog in by frantically running into the kitchen, making the bottle, grabbing your glasses and a burp cloth along the way so you can get into the nursery before Sam's hunger whimper turns into a Ravenous Rage...you know the kind when the neighbors call. And its not about him crying...I'm really fine with that...there's just something about waking up to a temper tantrum that will get your day off to a frazzled start.

I think the most precious time of my morning is when I get ready to leave for work. The last thing I do is take my precious Sam, and put him in the bed with his daddy in hopes that he'll shut his eyes for another few moments. Those two, facing each other, falling back sound asleep in the "big bed" is the kind of moment that makes you stop and thank God for your "boys". This morning, I couldn't resist...I had to get a picture of it. What a precious sight before I head off to the grind...kissing my boys goodbye!

Thank God for your family today,

Sam's Mom





Monday, February 25, 2008

To catch you up...


Samuel Andrew was born on November 18. He weighed an amazing 8lbs 8oz. The nurses dubbed him "Stubborn Samuel" because of his less than willing attitude about being born. It's funny, looking through the photo album of that morning, Samuel is the only one that looks bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Everyone is seen, holding him in all his newborn glory, a short twenty hours after arriving at the hospital with glazed over looks and red eyes. Yet, there is our little bundle of joy...the only one that is rested and raring to take hold of life. Not now, Sam...everyone else needs a nap...THEN we can take hold of that life thing.


Despite the fatigue, we all got our naps and Sam has kept us on our toes ever since.


I do want to mention one thing that I will always remember about my son after he was born and up until a month ago...his hands. He had the most graceful, expressive hands. He would lift them in his sleep in response to someone daring to cough, put them over his eyes when he was tired and gently lift one hand in his Nana's face when her singing got too loud. Oh how I fell in love with those beautiful little hands.


Graceful hands soon gave way to beautiful smiles. Smiles of someone who doesn't know a thing about traffic and electric bills. Smiles of someone who 100 percent trusts those around him and loves them fully...well maybe he only loves the person with the bottle in their hands...I'm not sure.


Present: Now I am back to work, finished with maternity leave. This was a sad transition but was made easier by the fact that Sam chose to start sleeping through the night the day before I returned to work. So while I miss my son terribly, I am thankful to have my precious sleep back. I'm also thankful for two wonderful grandmothers who are more than willing to entertain Sam one day a week each so that mom can go have adult conversations and try to remember what she does for a living.


That's us up until now. I used to spend my Sundays watching HGTV and surfing the net...now I sing BINGO and make stupid faces at my beautiful Sam while he's in his bouncy seat with the band that plays kids songs...and as a matter of fact, I do believe I actually know the "Muffin Man" now...he lives on Drury Lane.


Well, good night everyone!


New to this world...

"You should be journaling..." Those are the words I know are true but don't inspire me to journal. I've never been good at journaling or taking pictures. Well, Sam solved the picture taking...there are plenty of those. But as far as journaling goes...this is as far as I go with it...I will go the blog route. Much like journaling only a lot more generous...others can now keep up with the many adventures of Sam and his parents.

Sam's parents...funny. These people used to have names. Parents used to say hello to these people when they entered a room...now we are Sam's parents, or more commonly, Sam's shuttle service.

I guess that as of November 18, 2007, there is nothing Andy and I'd rather be considered. Sam has entered our world and it has been turned on its head. We spent the first few weeks of parenthood, sterilizing binkies and making sure our friends dipped their hands in rubbing alcohol before they touched our child. We worried that picking him up the wrong way would do some sort of permanent damage. Well, we're not perfect, but we're not paranoid anymore either. The rubbing alcohol has been replaced with a simple request, "Please don't lick our child."

Parenthood is fun. It is a blessing in ways that I never could have listed under "pros" on a sheet to determine if we should embark on the journey or not. It's a day to day miracle (mixed in with spit-up, diapers and so much baby gear that we can't walk through our tiny house).

But if that's what it takes to be Sam's parents...Andy and I are all aboard.


Now, let's meet Sam!