Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow.

There are so many things I love about Ben. Those eyes. Those dimples. The cheeks. Those sweet little lips. The hair. Oh, the hair. The hair gets me every time.

The hair seems to be the first thing everyone else notices. He's gone through several hair phases in the ten short months he's been alive. He was born with lots of hair, but it looked like most other baby hair.



After just a month, it looked like this.



It's looked like some version of that ever since. We never know what it will do from one day to the next, but it certainly keeps us laughing. It's poofy. Kinda got the Donald Trump thing going some days. We part it on the side and comb it over and the crown sticks straight up in one big mass. He's got volume and body, for sure.



We've trimmed Ben's hair ourselves several times, mostly just to keep it out of his eyes, but yesterday Tim uttered the words I've been dreading. "Should we get his hair cut?"

GASP! All the breath from my lungs. "Should we? I don't know. Is he old enough? Are we ready for this?"

Alas, Tim was headed to the barber shop and he said, "Let's just take him and see how he does."

Twenty minutes later, we had this:





He (understandably) wasn't sitting really still, so I put him in my lap. He wasn't loving the cape, so we took it off. Somehow, I ended up in the chair with a cape on and he ended up in my lap with no cape. There was hair everywhere.



Doesn't he look excited? The hairdresser sprayed his hair with a squirt bottle and combed it all down. She was patient and wonderful and took plenty of time and the whole while I was thinking, "Let's hurry this thing along before we have a meltdown, lady!" I think she could sense my anxiety, because at least twice she told me not to be nervous.



Ben was really great, but getting a ten month old to hold still without a tranquilizer dart is next to impossible. Desperate times call for desperate measures, so the hairdresser broke out a butterscotch dum-dum. Ben was paralyzed by the sweet little ball of American nostalgia.



Ben held perfectly still and sucked on that lollipop while drool gushed from his mouth, down his chin, and all over my hands. Wild, flowing rapids of butterscotch drool. Worth it.

Just a few minutes later, my very handsome boy had his first very handsome haircut.



And a certificate to prove it.



Thanks to Hudson's Barber Shop (they've promised to put his picture on their website) for making the experience minimally traumatic for this mama. I'm completely ignoring the phrase "graduated from babyhood" on the certificate.

So, to recap...

Before:


After:


Wadda ya think?

Starting a Family

I read this book by Steve and Candice Watters right before I got pregnant with Ben. Over the last year I've been convicted about many of my thoughts and attitudes in regard to having children.

I'll admit there were other things I wanted to do before we had kids. Tim wanted to get his degree after finishing with the Marine Corps. We wanted to buy a house. I wanted to spend some time actually using my degree in the work force. We wanted to take a few vacations. I think this is a fairly typical checklist for young couples.

I knew that having children would complicate things. After all, even people from church told us not to rush into having children. We heard lots of things like, "Once you have kids, you can't give them back," and "You should spend some time getting to know each other before you throw kids into the mix." Those things made sense.

Tim and I really enjoyed the time we spent just the two of us. We had fun and we had freedom. We had disposable income.

Looking back on the first seven years of our marriage, I get a little sick when I think of how presumptuous I was. I just assumed that God was standing by, waiting to bless us with children whenever we decided we were ready. I took so many things for granted, and I bought into more than a few lies about where my priorities should be. I was so nonchalant about the whole thing, but God blessed us in spite of my ridiculous attitude. Grace.

God has used Ben to show me the truth of Psalm 127. Children are a heritage of the Lord, and they are a reward. They are a blessing. Are there any other blessings in my life that I choose to accept only on my own terms, in my own timing?

I heard Steve and Candice Watters on Family Life Radio yesterday, and I identified with much of what they shared:

"Children are redemptive. They redeem us from ourselves—from a self-centered life."

"I fear that there is a generation of young couples, starting out their marriage, that are selling God short here. They don't realize the tremendous privilege that He's given parents—that we have a chance, as a couple, to join with God in creating life. What an unspeakable privilege!"

"I think there's a design flaw in current marriages. We are pitched the idea that marriage should really be about this companion— a high, intense, emotional connection between this couple. We've got this concept of the soul mate and how marriage should be about this person completing you. We've lost the sense of how children are a part of the design and were meant to bring a new life and depth to the relationship."

"The sad thing is that so often faith is not what is carrying us. So often, in the Christian body, the things that are forcing our decisions about children aren't God tugging at our hearts as much as it is our hearts being conformed more to the image of the culture around us. We hope to call more people to reflect deeply— to actually go back to God and say, “God, what is Your heart here?”

Ten.

You are TEN months old today. Double digits, buddy! You've had a major growth/development spurt lately, and although I should probably be sad that my baby is less and less a baby every day, this age is just too much fun!





This month has been one of runny noses, doctors appointments, green beans, the Super Bowl, spaghetti, sing-alongs, "I'm gonna get you," valentines, spashing in the tub, a trip to Austin, a visit from a Great-Grandma, open cabinets, open cupboards, open drawers, crawling fast, pulling up, your first tooth, and bed-head. Lots of bed-head.
















I saw something the other day that said,

"If I could go back in time, I'd have found you sooner so I could love you longer."

Every day Dad and I talk about how parenting is so much better than we could ever have imagined. Sometimes we do wonder why we waited so long before deciding that we were "ready" for kids. What could we possibly have had to do that was so important? Travel, careers, vacations... any other experience pales in comparison to the chance to love you. Ultimately, we believe that God gives life and His timing is perfect, and it was much less "up to us" than we often acknowledge. Whatever the timing, we are so thankful He gave you to us.

Almost time to start discussing that birthday cake, little boy...

Call First.

If you're coming to our house, you should call first.

If you don't call first, we won't know you're coming.

If we don't know you're coming, there won't be anyone waiting anxiously at the door.









You wouldn't want that, would you?

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall...

I hate Valentine's Day. I'm good with Mother's Day and Father's Day (although my hunch is that they, too, were created as a conspiracy by Hallmark) but I just don't like Valentine's Day.

What really bugs me is the idea that Tim would buy me flowers and candy and take me out to dinner because he feels obligated to. Now I know, I know, I know, that he loves me and cares for me and just looks for great opportunities to shower me with affection (right?), but I want him to do it because he wants to do it, not because the calendar tells him to.

Every year we have the same conversation the week before Valentine's day. I say, "I really, really, really, don't want to do anything next week. Please, pick any other day of the year to write me a card or buy me candy and tell me how much you love me (as a matter of fact, the candy can be a weekly deal), but not on Valentine's Day."

It took a few years for Tim to figure out that I wasn't trying to trap him, but now he is willing to honor my request. And he is great at doing thoughtful things year-round. I am certainly not starved for love or affection, and I am thankful.

Tim used to write sweet notes to me on our bathroom mirror using either my eyeliner or my concealer (I don't wear lipstick). It got expensive. One day I put a jar full of markers on the counter.



I started with Crayola magic markers, which work great and are nice and bright (easy to read) but if the bathroom got too steamy they started to run down the mirror. I switched to dry erase markers, which don't run and are easy to clean, but aren't quite as bright or fun. What a conundrum, huh?

Anyway, the markers allow us to leave each other notes. They are a simple thing that keep us connected (and laughing).



We doodle and play hangman, too. I always win.



I frequently draw mustaches and glasses over Tim's sink. I'm not very good at it.



I let the mirror get pretty full of graffiti before I wipe it off and we start with a clean canvas again.

I love the fun, funny things Tim leaves for me to see, and there's nothing sweeter than waking up to find a quick, thoughtful note from my guy. Just not on February 14th, please.

Six Words.

After Bible Study this morning I made my way to the nursery to pick up my little nugget. His sweet teacher gave me the usual report; he'd eaten all his oatmeal, had a little juice and fell asleep in the swing. She commented on how he is really starting to move around and pull up. "He'll be walking in no time!" I smiled and acknowledged how big he's getting, and as I reached down to pick up his diaper bag, she leaned in and whispered, "You are a really good mommy."

I didn't realize until after she's said it how much I needed to hear it. I don't know what she's seen in me, or Ben (if anything) that prompted her to say it. She knows Ben is my first, and maybe she knows that my sleep is broken, my shirt has boogers on it, last night's dirty dishes are still in the sink, and my living room resembles a Babies R' Us that's been ransacked by monkeys. And this is a good day.

Motherhood has surprised me in so many ways. I never knew I had the capacity to love another human being as much as I love Ben, yet never before have I felt so completely in over my head. I do lots of guessing, lots of hoping, lots of reading, lots of praying. I am so thankful that Ben is mine, but sometimes I feel like he deserves better than me, a veteran mommy who is more relaxed, has stronger instincts, and could anticipate his needs and decipher his cries more quickly. He deserves someone who knows what she is doing.

Those six little words buoyed my mommy heart. She took three seconds and one breath and gave me a gift. It is so true that money and "things" aren't the only resources we have to give generously to others. We can use our time, our words, our energy, and our attention to lavish little blessings on those around us. I'm so thankful Miss Karen did that for me today.