Jodilightful!

This post is in honor of (Oh) Amanda, who was just blessed with her second little bundle (a boy whom she fabulously named Asa) and whose first full day alone with a toddler and a newborn went less than swimmingly. So, in the spirit of “We’ve all been there, hon, and someday you’ll be able to look back on it and laugh blog about it without crying too much”, I commend to you an honest memoir of my early days as a mother of two.  (By the way, Shanna did it first, and I am totally stealing her idea.)

On the whole, I don’t look back at any of my postpartum periods as “difficult”.  I know I have had a much easier time of it than some.  God doesn’t give us more than we can handle, and He must know I have a pretty small plate, because I seem to keep having easy pregnancies and recoveries and low-maintenance babies.

BUT, the circumstances surrounding Romilly’s first weeks were, in hindsight, *insane*.  She arrived 12 days late, which meant that the visit from Trevor’s family (mum, dad and two teenaged brothers) that was supposed to commence two weeks after she was born ended up happening two days after she was born.  Let’s just say the hormonal fog was still pretty heavy, and I was not at my loveliest physically or emotionally.

Pippa, who was 17 months old at the time, had some sort of bug when Ro was born (we now know it was probably RSV, but more on that later).  It was more or less just a cold, but since her babyhood, Pippa has had the unique talent of gagging on her food to the point of vomiting whenever she is congested.  Charming.

One evening we had all sat down for a beautiful meal prepared for us by my mother-in-law.  I believe I had already excused myself at the beginning of the meal to nurse the baby, so by the time I got back, I was *starving* and not a little bit (that’s British for *a lot*) grumpy about it.  I sat down, and Pippa threw up about three days worth of food all over her high chair.  I have never seen its equal.  It was the kind of disaster that required nothing short of stripping her down and sticking her straight in the bath.

Naturally, I did the only thing a new mother of two can do less than a week after giving birth: I burst into tears right there in front of my (I’m sure traumatized) brothers-in-law, grabbed my daughter out of her high chair, dripping with partially digested food, and stormed into the bathroom in a fit of temper that my dinner was being delayed *again*.  (I hope that Adrian and Nathan will have blocked this memory by now and will still go on to marry and have children of their own someday.)

My mother-in-law, bless her,  assumed I was crying out of concern for Pippa’s well being.  She followed me in to help with the bath and offer comforting words about Pippa’s health.  But I knew she was fine.  I was just hungry.  And tired.  And done.

A few days after our visitors went home, Romilly (aged 11 days) was diagnosed with RSV and its accompanying bronchiolitis and admitted to hospital for six nights.  I stayed with her on a little cot by her bed every night but one.  Trevor was home with a pukey Pippa, a tummy bug of his own, and latterly, my mother, who had travelled 3500 miles to spend *one week* with her new granddaughter (and more importantly, with me!) both of whom were stuck in the hospital for half of her visit.  Oh, there were so many tears that week.

Eventually, the dust settled.  I had two beautful little girls… And a dog.  In a third storey apartment with no elevator.  I had to master the precise protocol for getting dog-on-leash, baby-in-papoose, toddler-in-stroller (after stroller-out-of-basement-lock-up, of course) in order to leave home, which had to happen at least once a day (rain or shine) for the sake of the poor neglected dog.  If anything happened out of sequence, it all fell apart.  It was physically intense, but it became routine, and then normal, and gradually a cherished part of my day.

By the grace of God, the fog does lift, and life does become not only normal, but abundant again after each new little one upsets the delicate balance for a time.  It gets easier, and better, and wonderful. (And harder, too, but in different ways that have been so far manageable when they’ve come.  I’ll leave that for another post maybe. Probably down the line a ways, since I know I am only at the beginning of the road myself.)

Hang in there, Amanda: you have hard days and nights ahead, but amazing years to come!

(This is how we’ve found the big girls two nights in a row.  We think maybe they like each other.)

For more Wordless Wednesday, click here.

Fall is an exciting and busy time for our family.  Not only have we begun homeschooling in the past few weeks, but all of our usual activities that took a break for the summer are now back in full swing.  I didn’t realize until I got back to them just how much I was missing the fellowship and encouragement of my two Ladies’ Bible studies at church.  One meets every other Sunday evening (and my sweet husband willingly gets the little ones to bed by himself!), and the other meets on Thursday mornings with nursery provided for the kids.  (I promise I don’t just go for the opportunity to hand my daughters off to someone else, although, you know, it does feel a bit like a trip to the spa to get two straight hours without anyone saying “I need to go potty!!!”)  Although each class has met just once so far this term, I have already caught a glimpse of what God’s getting at by placing these two particular studies in my path at the same time, and of how richly I am going to be blessed by the collective wisdom of the godly women who lead and attend the studies.

This term the morning Bible study is looking at the book of Galatians, while the evening one is discussing a book called Lies Women Believe: And the Truth that Sets Them Free, by Nancy Leigh DeMoss.  The premise of the latter is that the world we live in is feeding us a steady diet of lies.  Satan is the father of lies and he wants nothing more than to use the world, the media, any source he can to lure us away from the Truth of God’s world.  They’re not all big, obvious lies like, “Hey, go ahead and murder someone – it won’t hurt you!” (although I’m sure he still gets some mileage from that one); they are subtle, pretty lies that are all around us, but they are nevertheless keeping us from living the joy-filled life that God longs for us to have, and more importantly from giving Him the glory He deserves.  This book will (I’m sure from the quick glance I’ve given it so far) open my eyes to many subtle half-truths that I’ve been buying into and living according to.  It won’t be about lies *other* women are believing, but about my own little pet sins and blindspots.  It might not be a fun process, but it will be good.  However much the truth may hurt, I’ll take it over a lie any day.

Meanwhile, in Galatians…  I laughed when I read this book again before the start of the study (yeah, I really should really have already known what Galatians was about, but I guess that’s why I have to keep studying the Bible over and over).  It’s about *the same thing*.  (Remember how I told you God always teaches me the same lesson from several angles when He really wants me to get the point?  Well, here we go again.)  Galatians is the sternest of all of Paul’s letters (I know this because I also re-read all of his other epistles by way of a comparative study it says so in the introduction to our study guide.)  It skips all the nice “Well done!” type statements he usually starts off with and gets right to the “What are you thinking?!?” bit.  In this case, after receiving the gospel of Christ from Paul (that salvation comes through faith alone by God’s grace through Christ’s death on the cross for our sins), the Galatians had been “re-taught” by a group called the Judaizers that they could not be saved without also adhering to certain aspects of the Jewish law, namely being circumcised.  Now there is nothing wrong with being circumcised, but as far as salvation goes, the New Testament is clear that it doesn’t mean a thing one way or the other: it is only Christ’s work on the cross that secures our salvation.  In other words, the Galatians had been lied to, and they just ate it right up and asked for more.  Maybe it was just a little more comfortable for them to believe they were contributing something to their salvation somehow (can’t we all relate to that?), but this deadly little spin on their faith in Christ meant that they were no longer walking in the Truth – it traded the gospel for one that was “no gospel at all”.

So, it looks like I’ll be getting a crash course this fall on How to Tell a Lie From the Truth.  Sounds simple enough, but I have a feeling it’s not going to be easy. I am encouraged (but infinitely more challenged and convicted) by these verses in Acts 17 about a group of new Jewish believers called the Bereans:

11 Now these Jews were more noble than those in Thessalonica; they received the word with all eagerness, examining the Scriptures daily to see if these things were so.

I pray that this will be a key verse for me over the next few months, as God teaches me the lesson of spiritual discernment.  What a blessing it is to have, in the Bible, a ‘truth manual’ to test every notion against.  What a shame, too, that I so often take for granted that everything I hear or read or even *think* (thanks, Cindy!) is true without first testing it against what I *know* to be true.  I’ll try to remember to pass on all the little lessons I learn along the way!

We interrupt our regularly scheduled lack of blogging to bring you this breaking news: Little Miss Trix took her first steps this weekend!

On Friday, September 19, 2008, aged 14 months and 12 days, Beatrix took one lone step between the coffee table and me in the presence of our dear friend Megan (though sadly, not Trevor).  She has repeated the experiment several times over the weekend (including plenty of shows for Daddy) with increasing success and delight, and now loves to stand unaided for as long as she can and smile her biggest smile.  Her record still stands at just two steps, but we’re quite sure that record will be blown out of the water in the days and weeks to come.  She wants to do nothing more during her waking hours than to perfect this fabulous new skill she’s discovered.

For the record, this makes her our “middle walker”.  Pippa took her first steps at 13 months and 8 days, while Romilly kept us waiting until the ripe old age of (one day shy of) 16 months!  No motor skills prodigies here, but that just makes these big milestones all the more celebration-worthy when they come.

Pippa’s homeschooling curriculum includes one memory verse each week.  She is also required to learn a verse each week for Awana, including the reference now that she is a big “senior” cubbie.  It’s a rigorous pace for a newly-four-year-old to keep up!

Today, while we were enjoying an absolutely perfect early fall afternoon, I couldn’t resist capturing the results of all Pippa’s training and hard work on film.  We think it’s awfully sweet.  Oh, and by the way, you’ll notice Pippa is not in this video.

Here’s a transcript of the verses to help you follow Romilly’s two-year-old-ese.  Rest assured, even if you can’t make them out, every syllable of every verse is present and accounted for.

Pay attention, my child, to what I say.  Listen carefully.  Proverbs 4:20

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.  Hebrews 11:1

God loved us and sent his son.  1 John 4:10.

Apparently, homeschooling is highly contagious, and I think we will be very hard-pressed to keep these girls the two years apart in school that they’re supposed to be.   Nevertheless, we are incredibly thankful that both girls are hiding the Word in their hearts at such a young age (and that their mommy is being forced into better habits as well!)

I hope you’ll forgive me for inundating you with photos again.  It would seem that’s the only kind of blogging I do these days.  Maybe it comes from the guilt of not having updating our main webpage with new photos for 6 weeks (but don’t worry, those are coming, too!)

Anyway, Pippa had her long-awaited birthday party on Saturday.  It was very low-key and almost exclusively family, but everything is much more fun when you’re a purple princess, so we spiced it up a little that way.  (If only I had thought to get the grown-ups to dress up, too…)  In any case, a wonderful time was had by all. (Click thumbnails to see full-sized photos.)

On Sunday, we went to Carson-Simpson Farm after church for our annual church picnic (a first for our family – I have no idea why we missed it last year…) .  It was in the low to mid-90′s with a heat index over 100.  Very odd, since it was not hot on Saturday, and it was back to being normal September weather again yesterday, but on Sunday, it was crazy hot.  I fear I must have looked very sweaty and overwhelmed all day and had the whole church wondering what we’re thinking having another baby, but actually we all had a lovely time.

P.S.  Trevor tells me that perspiratious is not a word, and that there probably is a correct word that would fit with my alliteration scheme, and I should make the effort to find out what it is.  But I’m going with: I like it and I think it’s cute.

Pippa and Romilly gate crashed another church's party games - oops!

Trevor got his first crack at a real, live softball game, and he rocked!

Pippa and her best friend Rosie. Aww

A week ago today, an enormous box arrived on our doorstep from Sonlight Curriculum.  Our plan was to start school Monday, but all four of us girls were so excited to see what was in the box that we spent most of Friday (and some of the weekend with Daddy) looking at all of our new books and getting excited about our new adventure.

As I looked through the weekly schedules and the books we will be working from, I was overwhelmed with a sense of peace about our decision to do this this year, and I spent the weekend looking forward to getting stuck in on Monday.

Monday came quickly (as it always does), and by 9 AM, Bea was down for her first nap and the big girls and I were all dressed and seated at our freshly cleaned (thanks to Pippa) work table, ready to start “school”.  Our first task was to introduce this week’s memory verse.  ”Pay attention, my child, to what I say.  Listen carefully.  Proverbs 4:20″  We each colored a picture to “illustrate” the verse and we learned actions for each part to help us remember it.  Both girls can say it perfectly now, including the reference, and I really ought to have a video of that, because it’s awfully cute.  If that had been all we accomplished this week, I would still feel it had been a good week, but of course, that wasn’t all.

Each day, we read wonderful stories, nursery rhymes with *all* of the original (British, much to Trevor’s delight) verses (who knew Jack and Jill was five stanzas long???), a little snippet of science Berenstain-Bears-style, and a Bible story.  I was surprised at first how much of the curriculum is simple reading aloud, but as I experienced the caliber of the literature they’ve collected, I have come to understand why the emphasis on reading together is so strong.  We never just read a story – each one opens up many opportunities to expand, ask questions and apply.  It is certainly time well spent.

Pippa’s only scheduled written work for each day is a page or two in her “Developing the Early Learner” workbook, which we save for Ro’s naptime.  I have so been delighted that each day when Pippa has asked “What will be my fun thing today?” (She always gets to do at least one “fun thing” with just Mommy after Romilly goes for her nap, before Pippa begins her quiet play time) that she has been thrilled with my answer, “Should we do some school?”

And the workbook *is* fun.  The whole year’s exercises emphasize perception rather than learning actual letters and numbers, though we will do more of that as well later in the year.  Some of the exercises are more challenging than others, but there’s always at least one page a day that requires real, “classroom-style” interaction from me, like showing her a series of objects and having her identify what’s missing or reading her specific directions about what colors to color certain objects.  It keeps us both engaged and she’s loving it.

All things told, it has been a fabulous week.  As an added bonus, having this extra bit of structure in our days seems to have helped me organize the rest of my time a bit better, so it would seem, for now, that homeschooling is benefiting our whole family.

When we blogged about homeschooling a couple weeks ago, Trevor and I were both very much on the fence about it.  Much reading and discussing and praying later, we have both come to think this may be a part of our lives for more years than we thought.  Of course, we will continue to prayerfully consider the decision for each child and each new year, but for now, this is where we are and we’re very happy to be here.

(But it didn’t hurt, either!)

Scottish Irish Festival 2008

For more Wordless Wednesday, click here.

Saturday was Pippa’s fourth birthday.  I don’t even know what to say.  I am the mother of a four-year-old.  I am constantly looking around my life and asking myself how I got here.  I put together a little montage of Pippa’s life in honor of her birthday, in large part so that I can watch it and go, “Oh, yeah.  That’s how.”

(Click the link to view.)

Four Years of Pippa

I feel so incredibly blessed to be this amazing little girl’s mother.  I can take credit for absolutely nothing about her (except for maybe the nail-biting and the curls), but I am no less the proudest mother in the world.

Banana muffins are perhaps the one aspect of my hectic life that are always perfectly under control.  I don’t do much baking, except when necessity or occasion calls for it, but the banana muffins always get made in an organized and timely manner, and they’re pretty yummy, too!

I was reflecting to a (IRL, but also new to blogdom) friend yesterday that I only ever make banana muffins when I have bananas that I need to use up in a hurry.  In hindsight, this may not be the right thing to tell someone immediately before offering them a banana muffin, but to my surprise, she told me that she does the same thing.  I was truly shocked, because this girl bakes!  But I guess the banana muffin is one thing that waits for no (wo)man and keeps us all on the same schedule.

You might have noticed a recurring theme on my blog lately: I have a little trouble with motivation, particularly as regards all things domestic.  My beautiful, tasty banana muffins got me thinking, wouldn’t it be great if every part of my life had a natural deadline?  I mean, I guess there are things like: it’s time to do laundry because we have no clothes, or it’s time to tidy up because I can no longer walk from one room to another without breaking my neck.  But I mean natural deadlines that roll around *before* the sitaution has gotten entirely out of control.  I’m sure there are more, and I will be keeping my eyes open for more banana muffin-style built-in deadlines.

In the meantime, the Lord called this to my mind.

From Colossians 3

23 Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, 24 since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.

I need look no further than this for motivation for everything I do in my home and for my family.  Ultimately, I do it all in service to the Lord who created me and loved me enough to die for me.  He deserves more than occasional banana muffins, and so do my family.  He deserves my whole heart, and that means finding ways to do things joyfully, and sometimes without exterior motivators like nearly rotting fruit.