1.

Started the day with husband arms wrapped around me and tiny girl curled up in my own.  It is going to be a very good day. 

2.

This study on the significant rise in myopia over the past thirty years was in the Parade section of the paper last Sunday.  Some suggest that:

  "Societal trends may be
playing a part. Far more children today grow up in front of computers
rather than on baseball fields; instead of tracking down balls hit from
afar or seeking out each other in sprawling city parks, they're
following the movements of a cursor only a foot or so from their eyes.
Such early activities, Vitale said, shape visual acuity."

You know what that means don't you?  Dr Raymond Moore and other 'better late than early' camps may just have it right after all.  It is a shame Dr Moore is not with us yet to see his theories proven correct. The rest of us ought to take note.  Backing away from the computer is not enough.  Time spent using our distance vision is more important.  

Short answer?  

Go outside. This is good. : )  

3.

"Photography is a foreign language everyone thinks he speaks," once commented Philip-Lorca diCorcia. If you are interested in becoming truly fluent these tutorials are a good place to start:

Kaboom

SmugMug help

Digital Photography School - sign up for the weekend challenge mailing!

4.

Thought about this verse this week:

"…to be sensible, pure, workers at home, kind, being subject to their own husbands, so that the word of God will not be dishonored."  Titus 2:5  

We tend to disregard verses that we have heard a thousand times but I think this bears a second look.  Do you have a question about curriculum? About home management? About childrearing? The answers are not here nor inside this screen anyplace. They are only to be found on your knees, in your home, with your family.  As one mom lamented, before she truly took this verse to heart she was constantly telling her kids "Just a minute" while she sat at the screen "looking into all the world" for the answers to her questions.  : / 

There is merit to the idea of letting information 'rest'. God knew what He was doing when He gave us all this work to do. It provides good respite from over-thinking and keeps us busy in our own homes with the work He gave to us, which is where our focus ought to be. The unexpected result of diverting our attention back to manual labor is that often when we return to the question at hand the answer is often very clear. If not, and we are blessed to have one, husbands have an uncanny knack for discerning the answers right quick. Other moms, no matter how seasoned,  have not been given the grace to make decisions for our family.  And vice versa.

And vice versa. 

Your way is probably the right way, as Anna of Pleasant View Schoolhouse says. At least this is what I have thought this week. 

5.

Birds of a feather, flock together, right below my kitchen window. Looked out the other day and there were dozens of um, whatever these are. Theresa? Macbeth?? One of you must know. I caught them just before they noticed me and took off all at once as a group. And look, you can't really tell how spotted up my window is either.  Cool. 

6.

A very funny video for you married types.  HT Joanna from FB ; )   I laughed hard.  Laughing is good. But you may have the chorus running through your head for days.  Its like that lol. 

7.

It is Valentine's Day Sunday. A very good day to review what love is.  Our friends and Aidan's Godparents Ann and Mike were teaching catechism class for second graders many years ago.  The director insisted they must create and post a set of classroom rules.  They were puzzled at first and then settled on a poster board with verses from 1 Corinthians 13 .  Ann related that after rereading this passage it pretty much covered anything that might arise.  Love is patient, therefore we can wait our turn – wait for the bathroom – wait.  Love does not boast, even when one does something much cooler than one's neighbor, nor is it jealous when tables are turned.  Love does not insist on its own way, even when that way seems exceptional. It does not delight in evil.  We do not relish seeing our neighbor fall. It keeps no record of wrongs.  Messed over?  It happens.  Let it go. Irritable?  Don't be. 

Yes, Ann and Mike were onto something.  I always said I was going to copy down the whole passage and use it as our primary character training tool – for myself first.  The older I get the more wisdom I see here.  For Valentine's Day the best gift I can think of is to really REALLY think hard on this definition of love and see how I am measuring up and what needs improvement. Heaven knows there is room for improvement. Heaven always knows. 

1 Corinthians 13:1-13

Huh.  I looked back through the archives and I don't think I have told this story. I would tell you to stop me if I have, but you sorta can't, can you?  It's a funny one.  In retrospect anyway, where things tend to be funnier. <g>  

In early 2002 I was expecting a very nice Valentine, my seventh baby – a boy.  We were living in Virginia in base housing and had been visiting the midwives at the base hospital preparing for his arrival. I was relieved to have access to a team of midwives since our previous birth, our first midwife attended birth, was so different from all the others. I knew what I wanted and what to expect.  By number seven you think you have things pretty well figured out.  (We will call this mistake number one. )

My general plan of attack for laboring was to soak in the tub during early stages then head over to the hospital when it started getting unpleasant.  Rule of thumb was to transport while I could still walk and talk.  At least mostly.  

A little background here.  I have a lot of contractions while pregnant.  That sentence alone does not do justice to the situation. Phenomenal number of contractions – frequent, sometimes quite rhythmic,  and often painful.  They have to be exceptionally all of those things in order for us to sit up and take notice.  Therefore when I woke up at 1am on Feb. 7th with a whopper I didn't think too much about it.  When I had another on my way to the bathroom I didn't think a lot about it.   When I had another on the way to the kitchen to start brewing raspberry tea to make things more comfortable I was not registering that this could possibly be labor.  Real labor does not start with contractions three minutes apart.  People KNOW these things.  It was Braxton Hicks and goll darn it they hurt.  Make some tea. That was the plan. 

I made the tea noting how fast the contractions were coming but still not completely sure this was 'it'.  After all we had a false alarm the week before that wound down eventually.  I was pretty sure this would too.  However at 2am I was starting to wonder – and worry.  If this WAS real labor it was not resembling any recent births and I was already really uncomfortable.  I decided to wake Allen up for moral support.  

We decided to try the tub for a bit and see if that slowed things down.  You would have to have seen this tub to appreciate what was necessary to make that happen.  The vintage 60's tub had an overflow drain no more than a handful of inches from tub bottom.  You know your husband loves you when he is duct taping overflow drains at 2am.  So fine, tub was taped up and I slipped in.  (we will call this mistake number two)

Allen was off to pack bags.  Guess that would be mistake number three.  I am not sure when exactly I had been planning to pack that bag.  But, since I had not and it was looking like we were gonna need it, he packed.  While he was packing I was clinging to the bottom of the shallow tub, my neck crinked into an impossible position.  It was there that I recognized that telltale sign.  No denying it.  My water broke.  That was bad.  Way bad.  My labors have all taken variable amounts of time from beginning to that point, however none of them had gone more than 45 minutes AFTER that event.  At that moment, the clock starting ticking.  I knew this.  I knew I had to get out and move quickly.

Moving quickly is not something a waterlogged pregnant women does especially well.  They say you are virtually weightless in the water but I don't think that applies to pregnant women. In pregnancy the water has a nearly magnetic pull which defies all normal laws of gravity.  Then there were the contractions.  I stood up and had a contraction.  Grabbed a towel and had a contraction.  And so it went.  Which is why it took me some time to get back to the bedroom where I met a dumbfounded husband.  "I thought you were soaking in the tub?"   I broke the news to him after which he could only say, "PLEASE get dressed!"  Looking a bit nauseous himself he grabbed the bag and began to warm up his small truck.  I worked on dressing, which was a lot easier said than done. 

He returned and announced cheerfully that the truck was started! That was very reassuring to the man. It meant I would soon be in it and on my way.  On my way out of the house and into the hospital.  He still looked fairly certain it could be done.  

I waddled out to the driveway where he ushered me to the truck door.  Almost there.  I could see the promise of relief coming to his face.  It was riiiight there.  Home stretch. Until I sized up the truck angles and compared them to my own and told him no can do.  Undaunted he said, "No problem!  I get that!  We can take the Suburban. There is MUCH more room in there!"  I stood and worked on breathing while he shuffled around the vehicles in the single car driveway.  He reappeared by the door, opened it, and waited expectantly for me to embark.  I considered that option.  I really did.  At that moment, it no longer seemed possible.  Not even a little bit.  Poor guy.  His face fell.  "What do you mean you can't get in the car? SURE you can get in the car! You get in the car all the time."  True that.  But not this night.  What exactly did I have in mind he asked?  I didn't.  Clear thought was completely escaping me.  He wondered should he call an ambulance?  Noooo I said.  I just needed a minute to sit down.  In my room.  I would be right back.  

He knew. He called.  Now we had logged a lot of hours of Rescue 911 episodes in the nineties. We knew exactly what happens.  A nice dispatcher answers, they open their flip chart and tell you exactly what to do while the paramedics speed through town to save the day.  I mean EVERYONE knows this right?  So he called. He called and got……. put on hold.  Hello?? Was he seriously on hold?  Yes.  Never mind the fire station was two blocks away.  No, it would be better to send the county crew over.  So hold please.  

Meanwhile I had wandered back to our room. I was truly on autopilot by then.  It became suddenly really clear that the reason I could not sit was that there was a baby being born.  That minute.  I yelled for Allen who threw the phone-on-hold to teenaged son and came in time to catch the baby.  We looked at each other stunned.  It was 3am.  Two hours after I woke up uncomfortable. We had a baby.  He cried, he sucked his thumb. He was beautiful.  Paramedics were still figuring out what to do on their end. 

Fifteen minutes after the birth the county crew arrived.  Not a one of them had ever had a baby much less delivered one. They were visibly relieved it was already over and wrapped us both up to show the baby to the children now awake and puzzled. We transferred to the hospital. 

A few days later the base newspaper sent a reporter and put our story on the front page.  That would be our five minutes of fame. : )   Kieran has been a delight since day one.  Still full of surprises too. 

Whenever I think I have things all figured out I remember this night.  We make plans and God laughs. 

That was then:

Poor Allen still looks stunned in that picture.   And I look…. fully dressed.  What a night. 

And this is now:

Hope you had a Happy Birthday, dear boy! (And yes, his mother should have noticed her clippers missed those stray hairs. Ah well.  He is still darn cute.)