I'm over it

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Celebrating Wren

Our little Wren turns ONE today!
How can this be? I cannot say.
She will not recall that you were here,
After all, she's only a year!
But greater friends are not to be had,
And we'll remember, her mom and her dad.
So celebrate the special day that little Wren flew our way!

This weekend we celebrated our beautiful, fast growing, one year old daughter! It was so fun to have a little birthday party for ourselves. I mean, for her. She only knew that everyone was doting on her all day, but that was nothing new really. It was a beautiful day for a morning brunch, here are some pictures in very random order.

I'm a Little Smaller Today

Today I sat in a spot I have been many times before. Fourth pew back, large sanctuary, a thousand others filling the rows. We are away from home, attending a couple of conferences, then Georgia for a week, then a family cruise. I haven't had time for expectations on this trip. Just planning, packing and being nap-food nazi for my kids has kept me too busy to adequately prepare myself for these events. I'll even go honest here, after dropping the kids off in childcare I was just looking forward sitting empty handed for a while.

Here is where I'm not going to say anything stereotypical about southern baptist mega churches. I'm not going to mention that a person might expect them to be impersonal and sterile, or that the pastor could be expected to be flashy and insincere. I'm also not going to describe how some believe that they are lovers of money and do little for their community or the world unless it benefits their own interests or name.

All that not being said, a spirit of humility and encouragement came to me as I sat in that sanctuary. I felt that the Father gave me a brief glimpse of the bigger picture. This was the church, my church and the world church. I saw myself as a little notch on this great timeline of eternity, with past quickly retreating and future speeding my way. I sat there believing what I tell others and what the bible tells me, that I am an eye and the missionary two pews back from Iran is a foot. The sweet elderly ladies with the covered dishes are hands, and the non-flashy pastor is perhaps a tongue. One day my way will be obsolete, but my life won't, my work will remain. Others will flash to the forefront for their brief blip on the eternal timeline, and then fade with the Spring.

I love this, I love the way I'm sometimes cosmically put in my place. It makes sense when the God who tinkered the gears of the world into motion opens the hatch and gives us a peek. I'm so thankful to those who have supported us in all kinds of ways over the nearly eight years we have been at it. Its the way of the Christian I think, to come under someone when they are new and wobbly. Then to hold their hand when they are more steady but ready to walk. Then maybe they still need someone to watch them from a distance just to make sure they make it home alright. I'm sufficiently chastised by this experience, I hope I can be this sort of Christian to others.

I wish I had more pictures of our trip, but her are a few. One of the highlights was when my dear friend, Courtney drove down from Nashville to hang out with us for a day. It was WAY too short and I'm already scheming about a weekend away with her sometime. Finn and Carolina came too, Maggie was in school, we missed her.

I'll post some pictures of the fun cruise soon.

Potty Training

I said I would wait until he was three. I said I would wait until after we returned from traveling next month at least. My strategy was to not have a strategy. I thought that if I just casually mentioned the potty from time to time (like four times a day), and if I didn't pressure him to use it (except to bribe him with matchbox cars), then he would just one day wake up and ask to use it and I would not have put any effort into potty training at all. I figured that if I started talking about it now, he could just take the next few months to think it over and formulate his own plan. Look, I really want him potty trained, I just didn't want to potty train him.

The thing I didn't count on from this whole non-plan was that it would work so quickly. One day I was monologuing about underwear to him and happened to mention that there was statistical evidence that a person could run nearly three times faster wearing underwear over diapers. I also quoted the sage, Henry, from the time honored classic "The Potty Book for Boys". He states, "I'm a big boy now, I can run and jump and play. I don't want a wet diaper to get in my way." The illustration on this page clearly shows Henry running much faster than he was three pages back wearing his diaper. That was the clincher. Jude put on a pair of underwear and ran up and down the hall (really fast) for a half hour while I folded laundry and congratulated my unsuspecting self.

Since then, which was about a week ago, we have been engaged in what I can only describe as an in depth, nearly scientific, exploration of bodily fluid. Now, my parents will tell you that when I was a child I would cry if I got my hands dirty until they cleaned them. I may or may not still do that. See, diapers I have never loved. But at least they are absorbent and have a waterproof outer, and armed with a pile of wipes I can count on one hand how many times in the past two and a half years that I have actually made contact with any...er...fluid. I'm really careful.

He's been great for the most part. My non committal approach seemed at first to have been golden. He wet his underwear just once in the beginning and just a little. He figured out quickly that he had the power to hold it and would do so until I made him sit on the potty. Day two he was telling me when he needed to go. I was about to start writing my book, "Lazy PottyTraining, They'll Go When They Want To" when the poo hit the fan.

I'm not going to go into tremendous detail here, I don't think my fragile tactile sensibilities can handle the painful memories. The last two days have humbled my potty training victory considerably. All of a sudden he has become afraid to poo. I mean, red faced, shaking, screaming, tears, bucking bronco petrified. He actually held it for two and a half days. And this kid is way beyond "regular". Needless to say he was pretty uncomfortable. When it became apparent that it was coming out whether he liked it or not, we had to cancel our plans for the day. All day. We stayed in and he screamed and pooped. All day. And we went through six pairs of underwear. And I emptied the potty 5 times. And there was an incident that ended with both of us in the bathtub. On a scale of 1 to delightful, potty training has been truly disgusting.

Now, I think we've turned the corner. I'm praying he doesn't regress when we travel. Regress. That's a term used a lot in potty training, apparently it happens enough. His diapers have been dry after naps and in the morning but I'm not ready to go there yet. I packed away the cloth diapers, there is no going back. My favorite part is that he is unbelievably cute in his tiny underwear.

Boxer briefs.

Ok, the underwear picture is at the bottom, I'm still trying to figure out how to edit my blog with the iPad. Here are some Wren pictures in a crazy mismatched outfit. I'm not sure what happened that morning...