Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Wriston Wednesday

We've been stuck in the house for the week. Elijah has some strange sickness that gives him fever and headache and a generally terrible attitude. It's pretty sad to see him begging for more blankets when he's wearing a fleece sleeper and covered in a sheet, a quilt, and a fleece blanket. It started Sunday afternoon after his nap when he couldn't stop talking about his neck hurting. I knew he was getting sick, but I had no idea it would mean fever till Wednesday. 

Wriston has been a trooper even though I know he's tired of being cooped up inside. He did just tell me his neck hurts, so I'm steeling myself for this being a wasted week. (I'm supposed to host my book club for dinner and discussion tomorrow night, and I'm seriously debating whether that's a good idea and if I should ask to cancel.)

Anyway, Wriston has been amazing me with his words lately. If he can't say something correctly, he'll try it over and over until he does. He's just now moving from calling Elijah "Yi-ya," and it's so funny to hear him enunciate it. Especially when he walks in and says something like this:

"Mommy? I like Santa."
"You do? That's great. Santa likes you too."
"Yep. Santa loves me. He loves me and Yi - he loves me and Yi - he loves me and Elijah and me. He does."

Monday, June 3, 2013

Lessons for the Week[ends]


*Before you scramble around to put on a bra and sweatshirt so you can go outside to clean up the toys in the yard [that you should have cleaned up yesterday], make sure the mowers are actually in your yard and not next door. Because that's a lot of wasted energy for nothing. Although, I guess now I don't have to clean up the yard later.

*Being depressed about your own lack of close friends is one thing; fabricating the fear that your children won't have close friends is a whole new level of sad. And terrifying. And pointless. But no less real.

*Alcohol and I don't really get along anymore. We haven't for a while, but I need to admit it out loud. I'm getting too old for his antics.




 Today I am going to start immersing myself in the Word. I have been neglecting it for months for various reasons, all of which seemed legitimate, but which I think have been distracting me from feeding my spirit. Instead of taking a shower before Elijah's swim lessons this morning, I choose to sit down with my Bible. Maybe I won't get to read much, but it's worth a shot.

We stayed out late this weekend. Friday night was Wrigley's birthday party, which was wonderful. We went mini-bowling and then to Pie in the Sky for pizza. We didn't even leave the party until 9 p.m., so the boys were already tired for the weekend. Then last night we went to life group at 4:30 and followed it up with the young adults gathering at the Wilchers' house. We didn't leave there until 8:30 or so, then stopped for gas, so the boys went to bed late again. Wriston has been crying all morning out of sheer exhaustion. Elijah has been surprisingly happy, but I think it'll catch up to us after he exhausts himself at swim lessons. It's only 30 minutes long, but I think it will tire out his little brain. He loves the water, though, so I'm hoping this will be worthwhile and he'll gain some good skills. Let's just hope he can keep his hands to himself while he's in the water.

This week starts our real summer schedule: pool time (lessons are just this week), fun church events (dinner and a movie in the building this Wednesday), music class on Fridays, and occasional playgroups (the splash pad downtown this week). I'm liking not having to rush around to get Elijah to school, but I'm wondering if he'll tire of just me at some point. I guess there's only time will tell. I foresee a lot of Cars and Team Umizoomi in my next two months.

Thursday, December 13, 2012

Sick day.

Up until 5 am today, Elijah had only thrown up once in his life. As of 9:45 am, he's up to four.

I've been dreading this day for a while. I kept wondering if it would be hard or sad or whether I'd know what to do. Turns out that the hardest part is trying to get him to sit still (no, Elijah, you CAN'T ride your big wheel; trust me, you'll regret it). It is pretty sad to see him begging for food and crying because he can only have one sip of Sprite. But he's handling it pretty well, I think.

We've gotten in some good snuggles, and he's enjoying unlimited tv access. I turned on the Christmas episode of Super Why!, and that sparked an interesting exchange.

Elijah: Is Santa here now?
Sarah: No, he's at the North Pole getting ready for Christmas.
E: Will he come today?
S: No, he'll come on Christmas Eve.
E: What's Christmas Eve?
S: The night before Christmas.
E: Oh.

[10 minutes later]

E: I wanna be a night before Christmas.
S: You do? I want it to be that night too.
E: Yeah. You be a knight, and Daddy will be a knight, and I will be a knight. We need shields.
S: … Yes, I guess we do.

Boys.



Thursday, November 29, 2012

Lessons for the Week

This world. This one here? Whew. Is it sad. And sometimes there is nothing else to say except that we long for the day when we can be in the world that is the way God always intended. This is not the way it was supposed to be. "For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies" (Romans 8:22-23).

I am not special. I'm not. And that's okay. I am special to God, and He loves and appreciates me for my purpose, whatever that may be (I don't think I have that figured out yet). But I am not an extraordinary human. It is a daily line in my head that I repeat over and over -- I am not special.

BUT. But. I am important, and I am necessary in the larger story in which I choose to live. And I am loved. Isn't that all I need?

Regardless of how much I may want it, not everyone will be my friend. Nor does everyone want to be my friend. Isn't that silly? They don't even know how awesome I am. :) But truly, I am trying to come to terms with the fact that I will not (and cannot) be friends with everyone. And even if I think I have room in my life and want to be there for someone, they don't necessarily need or want me. And that's okay too. Because when I feel the desire to be a friend to someone, I can pray for them and be a friend who asks for nothing in return. And - BONUS - they don't even have to know I'm their friend. I can just be the creepy girl who stares at (and prays for) them.

Lessons for the Week have gotten a little depressing. Maybe it's all this "self-reflection" and "growing" I've been doing. Gross. I should stop that.

I am sick of baby food. I am sick of buying it, of serving it, of wiping it up. See, there's this sweet spot with babies where they want to start eating as much finger food as possible. If you take advantage of that sweet spot, they transition easily and naturally to table food. BUT, if you get lazy with your second kid and that sweet spot hits on vacation, and you keep feeding him baby food because that's what you have, you may be screwed. Like me and Wriston. So I need to stop being so lazy and start figuring out more table food to feed him that doesn't include hot dogs, chicken nuggets, or peanut butter. Because I have enough mommy guilt about Elijah's diet already.

You cannot heat milk in a teapot. Unless you're ready to pick it up right before the whistle blows. Otherwise, you'll end up with boiling milk all over your stove and slightly over-chocolate'd hot chocolate because you don't have enough milk left.

Don't try to force memories. Just don't. Because then you'll end up having two super-stressed parents, an exhausted toddler, three broken ornaments, and a happy, happy baby crawling away with things off the tree. Next year I'm just going to put everything on but one ornament for each boy. And I'm going to do it all while they're asleep.

Monday, November 26, 2012

Christmas Traditions

We didn't have a lot of traditions growing up, but the ones we did have are some of my fondest memories. So I'm testing things out this year in an effort to start some of our own O'Dell traditions.

I didn't plan very well this time, because the same night we promised Elijah that we'd put up the tree is the last night a friend is in town, so I'm heading out for dinner as my boys sit down to eat, watch "Elf," and drink some hot chocolate while wearing their pajamas.

That all sounds so cozy, doesn't it? I used to babysit for a lady who said she was striving for coziness all the time. I think that's a worthy goal.

I think this year I get a pass, though. Elijah doesn't realize that we can decorate the tree tonight too, so he's content that we got it put up. Maybe we'll start another tradition - one where we decorate the tree three days after putting it up. Because that's going to be our first opportunity this year. :)

Sigh. I love Christmas.





Sunday, November 18, 2012

Our Own Lazy Sunday

I love Sundays.

I used to dread getting up on Sundays. I used to whine and gripe about having to wake up early, having to get Elijah ready and get him out of the house at nap time, having to "lose" a day to sleep in. We were lucky to get to the 10:30 service on time. The 9:00 service or class? Yeah, right.

I'm not exactly sure what changed. One day early this Fall I asked Michael if we could start going to a class, which necessitated going to early service. Suddenly, I'm working the nursery for early service once a month, our kids are adjusted well to being in the nursery and class for 2.5 hours, and I'm loving it. We're up at 6:30 anyway, so we might as well be doing something productive.

We're meeting tons more people, we feel involved and invested in the church community, and everything is just lovely. And then we come home, have a quick lunch, and all four of us get naps to recharge and refresh us for the coming week. On two Sundays a month we host or go to Life Group, which is a great group of families that I know God deliberately placed in my life.

Sundays are just lovely.

Today Michael is making chili (he invited some neighbors over for dinner without consulting me, which I'm trying really hard to have a good attitude about), the boys are playing happily, and I'm lounging in my comfy clothes while the sun starts going down.

It's a good day.