Easter Weekend

We had a big Easter weekend, if big means we tried a lot of new things. Some were fun. Some were…well, maybe not quite so fun.

We discovered that we like basketball. We went to eat at Red Robin on Saturday afternoon. The women’s college basketball March Madness was on. Emry sat in just the right spot that she could see the television and she was glued to the game. When it ended (Uconn stomped Mississippi – no surprise there) and the commentary came on, she became quite frustrated that they were no longer showing the game. Although she is quite tiny, we may have a future basketball player on our hands.

After some errands, we went by a park called Settler’s Cabin. We found a very nice play area to enjoy. First we were going to try those newer form of “baby” swings, the kind that look like you’re strapping them in to launch them into space (or, at least, a rollercoaster). We soon discovered that Emry is much too small for those (unless the shoulder bar is supposed to come down over your face…) So, we found an older set of swings that had the old fashioned bucket seat thing. Emry can just see over the top of those and doesn’t fill them by any means, but we thought we’d give it a shot. Although we did not cry in protest, we didn’t like it very much either. So, we just swung with Mama for a little while.

It might be a little while before we like swings…

 …but it’s not too bad if Mama holds us.

Next we went back over to the play area. Emry was quite excited to see all the other kids. She kept pointing at them and shouting “Hi!” to them. We picked a smaller slide to try sliding for the first time. Ed took her up and I stood at the bottom. We did it twice, but we were not very excited about that either. Maybe it was the sensation of sliding, or maybe it was the way the static made our hair stick out on end. Whichever it was, we were much happier when it was over and a dog came to visit. Dogs – not slides – are one of our favorite things.

On the slide with Papa.

  

Although we have an Easter basket, we didn’t hide or hunt for eggs this year. (Although we have been playing with the Easter eggs all week long.) For one, we simply didn’t have time. By the time we get up, and have breakfast, and take time to get all lovely it’s time to dash out the door for church. After church, we went up to the West End Overlook where you can see the three rivers meet and the city of Pittsburgh to take some pictures in our first Easter dress. Since church interferes with our morning nap (and we will not be held and fall asleep during church), we’re lucky if Mama can keep us awake so we can get home and into our crib before we’re out cold. Then it was off to Grandma’s for the afternoon where we tried ham for the first time. And since one nap a day simply isn’t enough, we came home and were put to bed as soon as Mama could get us there. Still, we had a very nice first Easter.

 Playing Peek-a-boo!

 He is risen indeed! Happy Easter!

Happy 21^st Birthday, Caleb!

Mine

You don’t have to have a sibling to be selfish.

I didn’t have a sibling until I was 2 ½ years old. For quite a while, I didn’t have to share my toys. I didn’t have to share my parents. I didn’t have to share my room. Everything I had was mine. And mine alone. I remember when Katey was born, but I don’t remember if I had trouble learning how to share. But watching Emry, I’m thinking I probably did.

Emry has entered the stage of knowing that something belongs to her. She knows that the little fork in her hand is hers. And so she gets mad when I take it from her to help her stab her green bean. Emry knows which toothbrush is hers. And so she gets angry when I take it because five minutes is quite long enough to clean two small teeth. Emry also knows that almost every toy in this house is belongs to her. And so she cries when I start putting them away so we can go to bed.

You don’t have to have a sibling to be selfish.

Maybe it’s our sin nature of denying our sin nature is really that bad that we think an only child isn’t as selfish as the child with a sibling. After all, an only child doesn’t really have to share anything. And you’re not selfish if you’re not required to share, right? Sometimes you really have to laugh at the creative ways we can come up with denying our own sin! Because while Emry may not have to share her dollhouse, or her fish sticks, or her Easter eggs with anyone; not a day goes by (as late) when we’re not crying because we want something Mama says we can’t have or we’re done playing with.

You don’t have to have a sibling to be selfish.

Like us all, Emry is learning the hard way that not everything in her little realm is “mine”. Truthfully, nothing is “mine”. It might be in our care, but everything we have is a gift from God and belongs to Him. And as my not-quite-one-year-old learns this all important lesson, I am daily reminded of how I still need to learn this lesson. That I am innately selfish. And it is good to share.

Thine

I’ve never been afraid of the water. Maybe because I was born on an island surrounded by water. Probably because my dad had me in the water, jumping off the sides or diving board and making my way back to the edge before I was a year and a half. At age six or seven, I was flying off high dives with little thought of the dangers water can pose. I could swim. Even when I knocked the breath out of me once, I made it to the side. And scrambled back up the tall ladder as soon as my belly stopped hurting.

I can remember once, though, being knocked completely off my feet by an incoming wave at a beach in Florida. Water is powerful. We harness it to make electricity. And yet we can’t hope to contain a tsunami, watching helplessly at it destroys everything in its path. When that wave caught me off guard and knocked me under, I scrambled to find my way back to the surface, unsure of which way was up as slight panic set in. It was scary. Once I got my feet under me and knew I was okay, I stayed in to ride more and more waves. But, obviously, I haven’t forgotten that moment of fear.

Life has waves. Life has billows. Sometimes we’re in the midst of the water, riding waves and thinking we’ve got this when one comes up and sweeps us off our feet. Other times, we think we’re safely on the shore simply watching the tempest when, out of nowhere, a wave knocks us over and takes us out to sea. Our pleasant life becomes a storm. We don’t know which way is up. Fear sets in. We’ve all been there. And, doubtlessly, we’ll all be there again.

Is there comfort to be found in the midst of those waves? When even the strongest of swimmers can’t get their bearing? When we arise long enough to calm down, only to realize we’ve been swept so far up shore we don’t know where we are? The simple answer: yes.

Psalm 42:7 tells us “…all Thy waves and Thy billows are gone over me.” (Emphasis added). It doesn’t say there won’t be waves or billows. It doesn’t say the waves and billows will miss us. It simply states to Whom they belong. They belong to their Creator. They belong to our Creator.

So, the next time that wave sweeps you off your feet or that billow goes over your head leaving you unsure of which way is up, remember: this is God’s wave. This is God’s billow. He sent it. He sees me in it. And everything will be well.

Life Goes On

It has been one of those weeks when nothing truly exciting or inspirational has occurred. No epiphanies. Emry hasn’t started walking yet. And, honestly, not even my few readers want to read about my vacuuming, laundry or filing. Let’s just say no one is going to make a reality television show after my life. Which is perfectly okay. I’m not at all suited for the tabloids.

Of course, Emry is ever filling life with new things as she gets older. I’m quite sure she’ll be a late walker. We try to work with her every day by standing her up on her feet just so she gets the idea of standing on them. Since she has no interest in crawling or reaching for things out of her range, she doesn’t even attempt to pull up and try to stand. I’m not too worried about it. Even though having a little walker would have it’s fun moments, at least I never have to worry about leaving her alone in a room on a floor.

What I love the most lately is how she recognizes things and can even tell you about some of them. She has known “duck” for quite a while, but now she also points to pictures of dogs and says, “Ooo! Ooo!” (Which is her version of “Woof! Woof!”.) She can find me many of her toys if I ask her for them. And she loves to “read”. She will now sit with one of her board books, flip the pages back and forth and talk a mile a minute in her own little language.

Although she seems to have plateaued in her weight (according to my scale at home, which I won’t claim is 100% accurate, she hasn’t gained any weight since her last doctor visit), she is now big enough to enjoy riding in the “big” stroller. She seems to love being able to see the world now, hardly ever relaxing as she looks about her on our runs. And as she eats well and is happy, I’m not overly concerned about her weight. It’s just an excuse to have more ice cream, right?

Emry after a morning run.

Eleven Months!

It is hard to believe that this time last year, I was hoping the next six weeks of my pregnancy would go by faster and Emry would arrive a bit early (which she did!). Eleven months today…where has the year gone?

At eleven months, we have two teeth and might be getting more for we drool a bit, tug at our ears and press our palms up against our cheeks. On the other hand, the two we have took so long coming it might be July before we actually see anything more.

We eat lots of different foods. Just today we discovered Sloppy Joes and strawberries. Hands down, our absolute favorite is clementines. We can eat them way faster than Mama can peel them. We also make a bigger mess with our food as we push away what we don’t want. But after some discipline, we mostly understand not to throw it to the floor.

As you will see, we do have moments of getting upset. Just in the last week, we break down in tears whenever something is taken away from us – our toothbrush, a phone or just anything we have to put down so we can go get something done. We seem to have the Sturm trait of looking perfect to the world, but at home, well…

We love to point – at just about anything. We talk quite a lot and some of the words actually make sense like “duck”, “hi”, “go” and “Papa” (which we always whisper). Mama could have sworn yesterday that when she said she was going to look something up on her phone, we said “Google”. (Not only are they born knowing how to use phones, they speak the language!) And we relate words to things. We can find our toes, our nose, our baby (in the dollhouse), our ducks and most of our usual toys if asked. We’re very good at putting the circle piece in our puzzle and when helping Mama fold clothes, we try to put our clean socks on our feet. And since it’s been so nice out, we have discovered bubbles and bugs.

Truly, it’s amazing to watch her grow (well, that’s a bit relative as she’s still tiny), learn and put her little world together. And even when her sin nature shines through, she is still just a blessing!

Eleven Months Old!

The photo-op is a hundred times harder now that we know the sticker is there and want to take it off.

Yes, people, we do cry when we don’t get our way!

Finally, one picture with the sticker intact (more-or-less) and Sock Monkey.

To Pray, To Look Up, To Answer

“I have often heard persons say in prayer, ‘Thou art a prayer-hearing and a prayer-answering God,’ but the expression contains a superfluity, since for God to hear is, according to Scripture, the same thing as to answer.” – Charles Haddon Spurgeon

I was struck by this quote of Mr. Spurgeon from his thoughts on Psalm 3:4 in his The Treasury of David, vol 1. I have had this volume (and the other two) on one of my shelves for many years. It was left behind at my parents as I moved about for a while, but now that it is with me again I thought I would take a courageous step and read it this year as part of my devotions. So, instead of reading five psalms every day to read through the psalms in a month, I am now reading five psalms in a month. For Spurgeon has much to say on every psalm, plus he has gathered together the writings of many ancient saints on each of the psalms. It is a treasure trove – one you can’t possibly hope to spend in a lifetime.

But is not God’s word a treasure trove? One I often take for granted, having grown up with a Bible, and church, and Sunday School, and family devotions, and memorizing, and reading over and over again. Sometimes it takes the writings of men like Spurgeon to help me see a verse over again. And to be reminded of the greatness of God and the importance of prayer.

Spurgeon’s quote makes my head spin a little, just as meditating on God’s sovereignty often does. For a finite creature like myself can have but a taste of understanding an infinite God. I don’t comprehend how exactly prayer “works” when God is omniscient, sovereign and knows the first from the last. But it is a comfort to know that when God hears my prayers, He has already answered. I just have to, sometimes, wait.

And look up.

Psalm 5:3b says, “…in the morning will I direct my prayer unto Thee, and will look up.” Spurgeon points out that too often we rush into prayer…and then rush back out. We don’t take the time to beseech our Heavenly Father for our very heart’s desires or the struggles we face. And even if we do, we more often leave our requests on the altar and bolt off into our day, heedless of the fact that we ought to look for the answers we so desire. Or, if you’re like me, you pray for something and then go off trying to figure out how to answer the prayer on your own. “Oh, ye of little faith!” For God to hear is for Him to answer. For us to pray is for us to look for that answer. To hope. To have faith. God heard. The answer is coming. Look for it!

In our home, we have a prayer box (given to us on our wedding from a godly couple I greatly admire who are like second parents to me). In it are little scraps of paper with requests on them. Every night after Ed reads a portion of Scripture, Emry gets to pick a prayer for the box (which she gets very excited about). Some of the requests are “simple”. Some are huge. But all are answered. To date, we have seen but one answer, yet I must have faith that the others are on their way. I must look up. Hope. Trust. For my sovereign God has heard. He has answered.

Fun Things

Emry is at that age when nearly every day is an exploration into something new. From seeing something she hasn’t seen before, to learning to point so she can share that thing to chattering a hundred “words” a minute trying to tell us about that thing. And all these new things are fun, and interesting, and exciting to her. It’s rather sad that one day she will look upon them as mundane, ordinary and even a chore.

Like brushing our teeth. Oh, how we love to brush our two teeth! We love it so much, we cry in protest when Mama finally takes away the toothbrush…

We also know where our toes are. We have been watching exercise videos from the time we were born. (And hearing them in the womb…) Mama is forever bouncing, running, pushing and pulling at something. So, naturally, we know how to touch our toes with Mama when she’s stretching. Funny, but it doesn’t take as much effort as Mama seems to give it.

The funnest thing is how much we understand words now. We know where our “duck” is or our “baby”. We say “Papa” (although, interestingly, always in a whisper). And we know “toes”, “nose” and “hands”. We also know “Katy”. I don’t know why for we only read this book once and we knew “Katy”. Every time Mama asks where Katy is, we point at her. We might have to get a copy of Katy for our own.

And this week we licked beaters for the first time! Mama made cupcakes to take to a family that just had a new baby. At first, we weren’t sure what to do with the beater…but we quickly learned! (And, thus, made a mess. Yea!)

Secret Questions?

We all know we live in a day and age when we have more passwords, usernames and pin numbers to remember than there are days in the year. Once upon a time, this wasn’t too difficult. Now, though, every password you make up has to have this, that or the other and can’t be like the last million passwords you forgot. Which is just helping us forget them again. (Hence, the sole reason I’ve changed my iTunes password twenty times in the last year.) I think hints like “one lower case, one upper case, one number, one special character, one letter from the obscure Phoenician alphabet” might be helpful underneath those boxes asking for your password. Because if I can’t even remember that, there’s no way I’ll come up with the right combination.

The other day, though, I had one that might just be the icing on the cake. I was in the midst of updating my boss’s tally of points on airlines, rental cars and hotels she’s registered with. It never fails that one of them is going to ask me to change a password. This time it was United Airlines. Okay, no big deal. Right? Well, then they ask for “secret questions”. And we’re not talking two or three…we’re talking five or six.

Now, first off, who wants to hack into United Airlines anyhow? Southwest maybe. United Airlines? Never. That being said, my boss never books her own travel (not business or personal) and really doesn’t care what her usernames or passwords are, so I knew it was left to me to answer these “secret questions” as best I knew how. Or not…

Yes, we all know that “secret questions” aren’t really secret at all. If someone hacked far enough into our account to get that far, they (like us) would see the questions in drop down boxes. Nothing secret about that. They should more accurately be called “secret answers” since those are what is supposed to be known to us alone. (Although if you named your first dog “Bozo”, there are probably quite a few people who remember that little fact.) But United Airlines decided to make the whole thing simple: not only are your “secret questions” in drop down boxes, but so are your “secret answers”.

I kid you not. This is how it went: What is your favorite dog breed? Followed by a drop down box of a whole list of possible answers. You could not answer with any honesty (unless you like the typical Golden Retrievers, Pit Bulls or Yorkshire Terriors). You couldn’t say Pughauhau, or Great Dane-oodle or whatever lovely made-up named mutt you have. Nor could you simply say “I hate dogs”. You had to choose.

And what if your first car was a Model T? Not on the list. Or your first house was purple? Sorry. Blue might be close enough. First major city you visited? Some of those cities listed I didn’t even know what country they were in and what if I had been a farm girl whose largest “city” was St. Cloud, Minnesota? Well, I’m simply out of luck.

To top it all off, I kept thinking this was supposed to help keep my boss’s “secret information” safe? A patient hacker would have only to run through all the possibly combinations for answers to eventually get to the right solution. And since that’s what hackers do anyhow…I can’t say I felt very safe. And this wasn’t even my account!

But don’t worry about it. I’m not. My boss hasn’t flown United since I started working there. Nor is she about to. We typically stick to Southwest. It’s easier to fly…and easier to login to!