Just Because

It’s been a little while since I posted pictures of Emry. I guess we haven’t been taking quite as many since we haven’t done anything real exciting lately, but we do have some cute ones I’ll share…

Playing with the hippo and duck Grandma Sturm sent us.

Reading our “Pat the Bunny” book by ourselves!

Modeling the dress Aunt Jenny made for us.

Our first Dunkin’ Donuts coffee – we liked it! (Just kidding…but we did like Papa’s hashbrowns.)

Off the Charts

Yet another colloquialism in our English language: off the charts. We all know what it means. And, we all want to be there. It’s our human pride that tells us we don’t need to be where everyone else is. We need to be “off the charts”, somewhere in a grand place that makes us different and better. Of course, there are a couple of things wrong with that idea that immediately come to mind. One, if everyone is “off the charts” then aren’t we all on the same chart? And two, what chart are we measuring on anyhow?

In my life, I will probably never be off any chart. I’m pretty average in just about everyway. Average clothes size, average shoe size, average income, average height and weight, average skill set. And most days, that’s perfectly okay. I’m quite happy 99% of the time to fly under the radar. But I now have one thing to claim: I have a daughter who is off the charts.

I’m talking about those charts health professionals use to tell you what “percentile” your baby is in. This is a very wide chart of averages based upon a baby’s height, weight and month of life compared to all the other babies in the world of their same month of life. And considering there is a 100% bracket your baby can fall into every month, it doesn’t seem like a wonderfully accurate way of averaging your baby. (And who wants their baby averaged anyway? Don’t we all think each of our babies as being uniquely special and they are?) But doctors use them every time you step into the office.

At her fourth month appointment, Emry was way off the charts. At a mere nine pounds, fourteen ounces I could see the doctor’s concern. And yet she was happy, healthy and her low weight matched her tiny, petite features. I just needed to make sure she truly was eating enough.

Fast forward two months to her six month appointment this week. Emry has been eating solids for just over a month – bananas, peaches, carrots, yogurt, apples and (her favorite) butternut squash. Plus she does pretty well with chasing Cheerios around and shoving them into her mouth. To me, this little girl has grown like a weed. She’s heavier to carry around, she has nearly outgrown all her 0-3 month clothes and she just looks bigger. I’m almost worried she eats too much. I put her down on the scale at the doctor’s office and she weighs in at a whopping 12 pounds, 1 ounce – finally outdistancing her Uncle Caleb’s birth weight by an ounce. She has put on just over two pounds of weight. No wonder she feels heavy!

Then the doctor pulls up her chart on her computer and says, “She is still off the charts – well below the average.” And she is. You can see her little dot on the chart off in a white section all by itself. “But,” the petite little doctor continues, “she has grown well at her own average and seems to be quite healthy.”

And she is. She eats well. Her teeth are no longer bugging her. She got over her little illness. So, she’s back to being her happy, smiling, talkative self. She pushes herself around on her belly to get to the things she wants, she is now quite ticklish on her belly and she sleeps and naps well. And by the time she reaches 7 months next week, I think I will have packed away all her newborn clothes, although she swims in her 6-month outfits. Oh, well.  She is happy and healthy….and off the charts!

A Long Week

It’s been a long week. I guess it kind of started out long – if that’s even possible. And I guess, technically, this week is no longer than any other I’ve ever lived. But you know how it is. Some weeks just seem to drag on forever. Especially when they start out rough.

Emry hasn’t been feeling very well. It’s hard to tell exactly what has been bothering our little peanut. She can’t very well say how she feels or what hurts. You just know she’s not at all herself. She doesn’t smile as much, she’s fussy, and I’ve spent three nights up with her for an hour or more, trying to coax her back to sleep. This from the girl who has slept through the night since she was six weeks old!

Mostly it seems to be her teeth. Her gums are sharp enough to chew food, but not one pearly white has peeped through yet. Meanwhile, she pulls at her ears, and chews on everything and it can really hurt to feed her! And people tell stories of their kids teething. The son of a guy I work with had nine – NINE – come in at once! I can’t imagine that, but sometimes I believe Emry might be in enough pain for nine…

Then she started running a fever on Saturday. I thought it might be related to the teeth. Now I’m not so sure. It was a little frightening, holding our little peanut while she burned like she was on fire. I was ready to call the doctor Monday morning, but the fever broke Sunday morning. By that afternoon, she was much more herself. Except she woke up that night at one in the morning, screaming. It was a long night…

The teething seemed to continue, but on Monday afternoon she started getting a rash. At first I thought it was just the warm water in her bath, but by Tuesday morning, it was all over her chest, belly and face. I called Ed at work, and he said he had noticed it, too. Except that she continued to be fussy (but was that the teeth?), the rash didn’t seem to bother her. So, we decided to wait it out before we called the doctor. (Since she has an appointment on Monday anyhow…) I looked online just to see what it might be. I know you shouldn’t diagnose from Google, but everything I could find pointed to a thing called Roseola, which is a virus that has a fever and then a rash that doesn’t seem to bother them although it might cause them to be fussier than the fever. There’s no antibiotics to treat it, it goes away once it runs its course in a week or less and if the child has it, she’ll be immune forever. Meanwhile, we had another long night…

Sure enough, by Wednesday morning the rash was clearing up. I gave her a warm water bath (no soap, except to wash her hair because it needs it every couple of days) and by that afternoon, there was just a few spots on her chest that cleared up by the evening. She was happier, more her playful self and I picked up a natural teething rub to try to help with that little problem. That night, she woke up for about fifteen minutes, but she wasn’t screaming. I rubbed her little, sharp gums and put her back in bed where she promptly fell asleep.

Thursday morning we awoke with a smile – not screams. We played happily, took a good nap, tried yogurt, made all the noises Papa is teaching us and Mama hopes we sleep through the night completely tonight! But whether we do or not, it is an answer to prayer to have our happy, smiling, little girl back well and healthy – even if we still don’t have any teeth showing!

Celebrating Death?

This morning, Emry and I went on a run. It’s been nearly a week since we’ve been on a good run. She’s had a cold and I didn’t want her out in the cold, frosty mornings. But this morning wasn’t as cold, she’s better and we were both glad to be out in the fresh air.

I think autumn is my favorite time to run. It’s cool and crisp. I can see the puffs of my breath. And the leaves are lovely to look at as they change colors every day. However, the beauty of God’s colored creation is somewhat marred as we run up and down neighborhoods, admiring the reds and oranges and,,,oh! The inflatable spiders, skeletons hanging in trees and makeshift tombstones with creepy faces and spider webs covering them.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve noticed that recent years have sparked more and more décor for Halloween. I’m even beginning to think that more “decoration” is put out for this holiday than for Christmas. Which is more than a little disturbing. I don’t really like those huge inflatable things people tie down in their yards (especially when some yards in Pittsburgh are hardly big enough to hold one), but I’ll take a cute polar bear in a Santa hat over creepy black widow spiders any day.

I’m not here to get on a soapbox and say Christians should avoid Halloween like a black plague. They shouldn’t take their kids trick-or-treating. If trick-or-treaters come to their house, they should shoo them away anyway possible. They shouldn’t let their kids dress up and should write letters to their teachers explaining why their kids don’t celebrate Halloween and how evil it is. Instead, we should celebrate the Reformation, and memorize the 95 Theses, and have an extra prayer night for all those evil people out there (other Christians not as holy as we included) who are out dressed as a princess getting candy in a sack. Since Emry is far too young to be dressing up and doesn’t even know what candy is, the questions that arise with Halloween are not a bridge we have to cross yet. I know people I admire and respect on all sides of the Halloween coin. So, I will leave such decisions up to Christian parents who truly want to glorify God and respect them for the conclusions they prayerfully come to. Just as I do about other things like clothing, schooling, vaccinations and eating organic food.

However, there is one thing I want to say. As Emry and I were out this morning, we passed a small yard decorated (can you even call it that?) as a graveyard. Of course, it was one of those silly ones versus scary ones – one that had funny names on the “tombstones” like I.B. Dead. Still, it got me to thinking about death.

Honestly, graveyards don’t scare me. I find them interesting, reading names and epitaphs and wondering who those people were and what sort of life they lived. But I would still never put one in my yard. Why? Because, to me, it feels like you’re trying to celebrate death.

But don’t Christians celebrate death? I asked myself. I mean, when a fellow Christian dies, we rejoice that they have gone to Heaven to be with our Savior.

Exactly. We’re not celebrating their death – we are celebrating their life. Their eternal life.

We as Christians honor, respect and preserve life. That is why abortion is so evil. Why euthanasia is so horrible. Why suicides are sad and murders so hateful. Life is precious. God Himself created life. He breathed it into Adam and Eve. And He desired to preserve it…until sin entered the world and brought death. Heinous sin seeks to snuff life out. It wants to destroy what God has created. And so, God gives eternal life to those He has chosen. Death’s victory is destroyed. When a Christian dies, he simply discards the shadowy life he held precious on earth for the glorious life with his Savior. And that is worth celebrating.

So, regardless of where you stand in the mix of Halloween, I hope you will step back and remember what we should celebrate: life. Life here on earth, yes, but more especially our future life in Heaven. I can’t wait.

Another First

A lot of times, I tend to think of Emry having firsts as something good. She rolled over for the first time. Tried bananas for the first time. Sat up by herself for the first time. And soon she will have her first Thanksgiving, first Christmas and first New Year. All kinds of fun things to watch and enjoy with her. But there are certainly other firsts to be had.

At the end of last week, Emry had her first cold. We think Ed brought the germs home. After all, he works with lots of people in a big store with lots of customers. But he didn’t get it too bad. I was the one who went through a whole box of tissues, and nearly lost my voice, and tried to keep the house clean by wiping down everything and putting the hand sanitizer in an easy-to-reach place. I’m not usually so OCD about germs. After all, the cold will pass in it’s own time and who have I got to share it with? Except now I have Emry.

In the back of my mind, I knew the little girl didn’t stand a chance. For the choice is easy: stay away so she doesn’t get the cold and let her starve or feed her. Needless to say, I chose the latter – although I was very careful to wash my hands, and not sneeze on her, and even try not to breathe too close to her. But she awoke Thursday morning with some sniffles. And by Friday, I had to get the nose-bubble-thingy out and persecute her as I tried to clear her nasal passages. It’s just a good thing we don’t remember what are parents do to us as infants…

She’s still waking up a bit congested in the morning, but all-in-all she has survived her first cold with very little trouble. (And since she’s also teething, sometimes I couldn’t pin down if her moments of fussiness were her cold or her teeth). We’ve been keeping warm, and have our humidifier on, and even having our nose cleaned out isn’t as bad as it was the first day.

A first cold is inevitable (as is a second, and third, and who knows how many a person has in their lifetime). And even though she was worn out the first day, I would not call our little girl miserable at any moment. Somehow, this little girl always finds a reason to smile and be happy. And best of all, she actually wanted to cuddle a little. A rarity I treasured for a few hours!