thursday morning stuff

When I walked into M's room this morning I was greeted with, "WHOA, Mamama!"

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While we brush M's teeth daily, I think it's time to step up the dental care routine. He was climbing over me this morning when suddenly my hair burst into flames (which is actually OK with me since I have now grown weary of my new short tresses). I questioned, "Could that REALLY be his breath that rivals the stench of a city garbage dump?"

So I decided to investigate...without being obvious, of course. No sense in making him paranoid about his hygiene before the age of 2. So, as he proceeded to use me as a StairMaster, I tried to smell his breath. The research took longer than expected because he kept trying to bite my nose.

Finally, the verdict was in...my baby needs some breath mints!

Anyone ever try to crush Altoids into your baby's morning milk?

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If I am ever going to learn to photograph people in manual, I seriously need to hire a model. Scott and M are just not willing to make the sacrifice to help me achieve my personal goals. Selfish, huh? So...I'm taking applications. Interested parties must be willing and able to sit still for long periods of time while I try to focus...

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M was in time out for throwing my lens cap across the room because I wouldn't let him put it on the camera. The light is blinding, but his face is funny!

hanging outside

Yesterday M and I were hanging outside so I thought I'd snap a few photos. I didn't actually look at the photos until I got inside...and was bummed to see they were either not in focus or had a big circle right on M's sweet face! Bummmmmer.

smooch

home now...missing my sister. the boys are both asleep, and i've grown used to chatting til the wee hours of the morning.

smooch was somewhere in between M and scruffy in the "cooperative modeling" department. for every smile she gave me, she threw in at least two crazy faces. i'm saving those for future blackmail opps.

scruffy

since my boys aren't here to photograph, i had to snap pics of my family's dog...she was a much more patient and cooperative model than M...though I'm sure it had something to do with the treats in my hand

water baby

i took these photos before i left. love M's face as he tries to get a drink.






TRIP UPDATE:
Flights were smooth. My gates were within feet of each other. Fastest trip to IL I've ever had...so I was very grateful. I actually read a book. A WHOLE book. Well...because I'm so used to reading things quickly now, I should say I scanned a book. Spending my time in bed next to my mom. Praising God for His goodness.


How precious [is] Your lovingkindness, O God!
Therefore the children of men put their trust under the shadow of Your wings.
They are abundantly satisfied with the fullness of Your house,
And You give them drink from the river of Your pleasures.
For with You [is] the fountain of life; In Your light we see light. Psalm 36:7-9

off again

I'm headed back to IL early tomorrow morning. Just a short trip because Matthew is staying home with Daddy. This will be my first time away from M for anything longer than a few hours. Feels strange. But I am confident that Scott will do a far superior job of mothering than I do, and I know that M will thoroughly enjoy having Daddy all to himself.

Here's the possible trip buster...as much as I tried to avoid it, I have to fly through Chicago. As in O'HARE.

Insert scary music here. Or a shrill scream. Then maybe some more scary music.

I only have 40 mins between my flights on the way there. Of course coming back I have 2+ hours. Can't they just add the layover times together and divide by 2 to make it less likely that I miss my connecting flight? With it being such a short trip, I don't want to miss any possible moments with my mom.

Here's a photo from our walk this morning...which looking at reminds me that I need to cut M's hair before I leave.


Blessings to you all!

soft kids

Anyone up for a discussion? (Jenna, I can see you raising your hand right now!).

This morning in my Compassion Magazine I read a story about 13-year old Melaku who, at the age of 4, was given by his mother to a couple who both lost their legs from leprosy. Melaku's mother allowed Taye and Seged to adopt the boy because she knew they needed help for daily survival.

Melaku attends school with the help of Compassion and dreams of being a doctor. For now, he fetches firewood and water, cleans the one room hut, and cares for his disabled parents.

I was recently having an email conversation with Rachel about M's sleep issues...and discussing how, even though it's tough, I really don't know the meaning of the word.

I am spoiled, pampered, living in comfort.

I am soft.

I don't know what it's like to go hungry so my kid can eat...or to work in a rice field with my baby strapped on my back...or to walk a mile to the river with my laundry piled in a pack on my head....or deal with a sleepless child in a one room hut!

I am soft.

Which made me think about Matthew. He never has to sleep in blazing heat or frigid cold...his room temp is always "just right." Even when we get into a hot or cold car, the air or heat are immediately turned on. He never experiences hunger pains because he's fed before they occur. And he has variation in his meal plan. He never has to go for long without someone or something to play with...to entertain him. He has a variety of toys to choose from. He has an abundance of clothes, and all are clean and in good-repair. His days are spent in play and fun.

I'm not necessarily saying this is bad. But is it completely good?

Of course as a mother I want to make sure he is comfortable, well-fed, clean and happy. These are blessings that I am sure any mama in any country would love to give her child. And I don't think we should feel guilty for living in a blessed country.

But what about beyond meeting our child's basic needs? How do we keep from raising soft children? How do we live in the comforts of America and yet instill strength, resilience, contentment, sacrifice, endurance and mental and physical toughness?

I sometimes wonder this...if M wanted to be a missionary in another country, would the lifestyle change be SO dramatic that it might cause him to turn back from his decision? Would the loss of the comforts that are so ingrained into our daily lives be such a shock that physical would take precedence over spiritual? Or what if he were called to defend our country in a war...guard our borders...protect the lives of others?

Would he be too soft to serve?

edited2add: better say up front that i don't lose sleep over this at night...just something i thought would be interesting to discuss!