Day 3: my inlaws and my parents

Paul and I are blessed to have two sets of wonderful parents who are great examples of how marriage can work, both in different ways.  Paul's parents were college sweethearts who have been married for 50 years.   This is a second marriage for both my parents but they have 33 years under their belt.  May we be as blessed to have all those years together--and still seem to enjoy each other as much as our parents do.

Since Henry has been thrown into the mix (it always come back to him, doesn't it?), I truly have realized how much my parents did for me, growing up and now.  I think Paul would say the same thing.  I'm not sure I understood pre-child how much parents do give up just in terms of their time and their beings.  Paul and I still go and do individually but it's definitely takes so much more planning and arranging that I never realized.

I'm so thankful that the couple of times Henry has decided he needed to be sick, a grandparent has been around to help us out--mostly one of our moms but Paul's dad will happily take a sick Henry too.  Just this week, Henry decided he needed to run a little fever.  Not enough that we would have had to keep him home from daycare but we knew he would get better quicker if we did.  Paul's parents came over to deal with a feverish Henry yesterday and his mom was here with an ornery Henry today.  And we were able to be at work knowing Henry was getting plenty of attention and affection.

Day 2: for my husband

It has been twelve years since we got married and sixteen years since we started dating.  It is hard to believe when I see that written down or say it aloud.  Sixteen years!

One of the things that made me fall in love so many years ago was just how thoughtful he could be--not big gifts because honestly (and I think he'll admit this),  he's not that great with the presents.  But he does do little things that are always so thoughtful.  He bought me a new umbrella in college after mine was broken in a wind gust because he knew I needed it.  When we were dating in college, he left very quickly following the completion of his thesis to move back to ABQ and start work.  He had about a week but because of his parents' schedule, it was only about two days between when he finished and when he moved out.  I was heartbroken that he wouldn't be around all the time any longer and was moping around the apartment when a knock came at the door.  Paul had driven back to Lubbock from ABQ because he hadn't said good-bye.  :melt:  That's when I was pretty much a goner for that silly boy.

He leaves silly little notes around the house or does something to catch me off-guard (because it's totally normal to open the fridge and find a game piece dwarf fighting the gallon of milk).  Once or twice week, I'll get a picture of he and Henry doing something in the morning when I've already left for work.  My email is always filled with links he think I'll like or funny pictures.

I'm constantly challenged, frustrated, amazed, comforted and cheered by Paul and I'm so thankful to have him in my life.  He never fails to make me smile (even when I'm trying not to) and seeing him interact with Henry never ceases to fill my heart with joy.

Day 1: Thankful for Henry

I'll sneak back into the world of blogging to list my 30 days of gratitude for November and hopefully get back into the habit of posting over here.  So much has happened in the year since I last wrote anything.  I keep intending to write down all the wonderful/amazing/funny/fabulous/unbelievable/etc. things he does every day.  This morning, Paul and I were chatting on the phone after I'd gone to work and he made a comment that maybe it was a just a parent thing but he was so amazed with what Henry had done this morning while playing.  He was getting all his Little People and lining them up very precisely on the shelf by the stairs.  Admittedly, not that amazing, but still!  In a nice neat line.  And getting more of them to line up!  This evening, he took the all down and put them in the bus to put them away.  We find ourself in awe of what he does and learns every day.

So today (and every day), I am thankful Paul and I have been given the chance to guide this amazing little creature through his life and help him discover all the little bits about the world while he's teaching us so much more.

Perhaps a too-adventurous undertaking to start with

As I told Paul when he got home this evening, I'm not sure what crack I was smoking to think the following would have gone well.

I am, generally speaking, not much of an arts and crafts kind of person.  I know how to knit and can do a little sewing and embroidery if called upon but general crafts have never been my thing.  I usually end up hurting myself if a glue gun is involved and I am often too much of a perfectionist for other little handicrafts so I normally shun most types of these things.  However, apparently sleep deprivation and hormones and motherhood have made me think I can be an artsy-craftsy person, doing little handy projects with Henry for various holidays and events.  Felt banners and May Day baskets.  Decorated cookies.  Fun stuff like that.

On this note, I saw that Pottery Barn Kids had available little kits for making handprint ornaments out of plaster.  Easy enough to do, I thought.  What a great present for grandparents, I thought.  This would be perfect for Henry's "First Christmas" ornament, I thought.  So I bought three kits determined to make sweet little handprint ornaments that we could all oooh and aaah over in years to come.

And then I actually attempted to make these sweet little ornaments.  I hadn't taken into account that Henry likes to grab things.  Things like gooey plaster.  Let's just say that things did not go as planned.  While one ornament actually was made, the salt shaker was broken in the process (flailing, very strong 9-month old + quartz countertops).    There was plaster all over the counter, all over Baby, all over me.  Baby was crying, I was cursing, the cat had fled the scene wary of flinging bits of goo.  Grandparents will not be getting their plaster handprint ornament.  I found another little non-plaster kit I might try if Henry and I both seem recovered from this particular incident.  It might make a great Baby's Second Christmas ornament.

Henry's Baptism

We've discovered one of the joys of having a child who has yet to be able to verbalize his clothing desires and choices (aside from some disagreements when getting dressed/undressed) is that we can put him in whatever we want, including little bitty tuxedo t-shirts.  One Sunday during the summer, Henry was dressed in such a shirt (classic black with the red carnation) while at church the discussion of his baptism came up.  Paul and his dad agreed that it would be really neat if Henry was baptized in a tuxedo shirt and the pastor said he'd never baptized a baby wearing a tuxedo t-shirt before (not the encouragement that was needed for Paul).

Fast forward a couple of months to Henry's baptism.  I'd found a couple of sweet little outfits I thought would be perfect for Henry to wear (one a cream sweater knit one-piece romper, another a sweet smocked overalls outfit).  Paul was still holding out for the tuxedo t-shirt but I thought it was a bit irreverent for the solemnity of the event.  Finally, I found an outfit that I could agree to and a tuxedo top that was little classier than the cheese-tastic black shirt.

On Sunday November 21, Henry was baptized during one of the morning church services.  We'd arranged the date back in September and I asked the pastor several times if there was anything we needed to do to prepare.  It just seemed like we should do *something* prior.  He reassured us several times that because we were regular church-goers, he wasn't too worried about us not knowing what we were agreeing to during the service.  I did have a pre-baptism dream a week prior--one of those wacky panicky dreams that often happen before a big event in which when we got to church, no one knew who we were or why we were there.  Dream Henry was properly baptized but only after much pleading by his dream parents (again, reassured by the pastor that they knew who we were and why we were there).

For several Sundays prior, our pastor (Craig) had been wooing Henry--standing near him, chatting with him.  On the 14th, I offered to let Craig hold Henry who generally will go to anyone.  Craig wears a short beard and Henry was absolutely fascinated with it.  I'm not sure who was having more fun--Craig, Henry, or the bystanders--as Henry was rubbing his forehead on Craig's beard and patting it.  It was amusing to watch and gave us hope the next week would go off without a screaming infant.  Thankfully I was correct.


Henry was fidgety during the readings but once Craig took him and Henry saw the beard, he was fine.  I didn't see it but apparently Henry gave quite the look to the associate pastor who was holding the bowl of water.  Craig took Henry down the aisle to show him off to everyone as the congregation sang Jesus Loves Me.  As I was taking Henry back at the end of the baptism, Craig told everyone how fidgety Henry had been and that he doubted Henry would make it through the sermon (he was right).

Paul and I were so touched by the baptism service.  In addition to the baptism service typically done, Craig added a nice little homily about the importance of celebrating baptism, how different faiths approach it (a nod to my Baptist upbringing I believe) and why the Methodist church does baptism as we do.  (Please don't ask me to repeat what he actually said though--while I was there and heard the entire thing and was trying to listen and take it all in, nerves meant the retention wasn't what it might have been).  As we were discussing it afterward with our parents, both Paul and I said it seemed that Craig did more than usual--maybe it was because it was our first time to be involved as more than congregant.