Sunday School Rebel

the post christmas update, and a happy new year!

Heavens.  There is so much to update, as far as all the holiday celebratin', and all the stuff going on afterwards, which mostly involves things like laundry, and going to the movies, and oh yeah, the baby has THRUSH. I've been working on this post for DAYS, in between a visit from Beaux's mom and I can't even remember. 

But let's start from the beginning, shall we? Which, officially speaking, was Christmas Eve. 

I spent some time working on Thomas' stocking, which was really just a store-bought one that I added felt letters to. Felt letters that I cut with my own two hands, for better or worse. 

Crafts = just another way to procrastinate cleaning the house.  Which I had to do, since my parents and brother were coming to have a snack supper, after Christmas Eve service at church.  Beaux was the donkey (again) in the play at the children's service, which of course Thomas and I could not miss.

There was also someone very special at church -

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Who could it be? Who is this kid, who is far too excited about her Charlie Brown Christmas card (that lights up, and really that is why she loves it)?

The Green Bean Kid, of course!

Then it was time for the Candlelight Service, the service I love with my whole heart.  This was the first time that I've sat in the congregation instead of the choir, and my mom and dad came, too.  It was magical and full of grace, just to have our family all in one place. 

 

Babies and candles don't mix. 

After church, my parents and brother gathered at our house, for far too much snack food.  I've decided that next year, we've got to cut back on the meatballs.  Not that they weren't delicious, but next year my Mom is officially off the hook for Christmas Eve, bless her heart.  After everyone left (including my brother's DOG!) we collapsed on the couches and fell asleep.

The next morning, I got up and finished Thomas' stocking while drinking my morning coffee. Our first Christmas morning was very relaxed and easy, just like we hoped for.   

I got the loveliest gift from Beaux - a much longed-for superhero necklace!  I have worn it every single day since.   What a lucky girl I am. 

We journeyed down the road for Christmas with my parents and grandparents, and the traditional turkey and dressing Christmas meal.  First, of course, was presents - Thomas made out like a bandit - lots of new clothes, and his first set of TRUCKS.  He also now possesses a piggy bank bigger than his body, and many loud, electronic burbling toys.  Pray for me.      

Christmas with a baby is fairly exhausting, simply because everything is out of your routine.  I'm so glad we started out the day at our own home, even though it meant that the rest of the day was fractured between mine and Beaux's families.  I'm sure we'll figure out how to distribute our time more equally in the future - there's just only SO much time in one small, precious day. 

The day after Christmas, I was longing for my Carrie Bell, and so Thomas and I hung out with she and Bella Rose for most of the day.  That night, Carrie and I escaped to the movie theater, where we caught P.S. I Love You.  I do recommend it - it's not as goofy or sad as the commercials portray.  It's really very, very good - definitely the best romantic comedy I've seen in years. Also, the guy who plays Denny from Grey's Anatomy is in it - YUMMY.  And best of all, he has an Irish accent.  It's fairly impossible not to melt into a puddle with all of that, I tell you. 

Since then, it's been all laundry and hanging out at home in my pajamas as much as possible.

I plan on participating in Christina's Create Every Day in January, so today I dedicated myself to working on the cover of my new journal - I'm feeling very inspired and creative lately.  A recent documentary on Walter Anderson has spun me into a blissful, wonder-filled state - I feel juicy with possibility. 

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  So, with that, I wish every single darling one of you a lovely, happy New Year!

merry christmas!

merry christmas!, originally uploaded by sundayschoolrebel.

Wishing each of you much joy! Have the most wonderful day!

month five: early bird edition

This didn't start out as an update, and now I can't put it into letter form.  I've decided that if it was a letter, it would say: Dear Son, Please go back to sleep. Whatever happened until sleeping until 7 a.m.? Those were the fun days, huh? Love, Mama.  P.S. You are very cute.  But cut it out.

So, for the past week, Thomas has been waking up, as my dad would say, at "o-dark thirty".  That means very, very early, which in my book, is anywhere before 6 a.m.  Six o'clock in the morning is a reasonable time for waking, a nice, early start for nearly anyone's day.  But before six? Is really quite unnecessary, in my opinion.  NOT HUMANE, in fact. 

There is no reasoning with a five month old.  And so o-dark thirty it is.  Of course, the kid only stays up long enough to play in his exersaucer, poop within the first ten minutes - before I can even have a cup of coffee - and then start looking sleepy-eyed within an hour.  In fact, I just put him back into bed with his daddy, as he was rubbing his eyes and exhibiting all signs of going-back-to-sleep.  Then he was NOT tired.  I went in to discover he was trying to make a break for it, all wiggly baby escape artist, only to run into the safety gate that attaches to my side of the bed.  So now he's up, chomping on the end of a blanket, and now eagerly investigating those funny lights coming from the Tivo box.

It is very, very good that he's so dang cute.

Lately, he breaks out a smile every time I bring out my wonderful, beautiful new camera. 

As this has turned out to be a good time to talk about all Thomas is doing, I want to say that it seems like he's doing EVERYTHING. He rolls off the blanket, roly poly all about, and if you're not watching him, it seems like he must have gotten up and strolled to a new spot.  If you watch (instead of halfway watching out of the corner of your eye while you try to catch up on blogs) you see that he scootches his booty up in the air, and wiggles around until he falls into another roll, and so on.  Now, when I put him down anywhere, I make sure that there are toys for him to roll towards.  He happily grabs for them, and stuffs them into his mouth.  Sometimes he gets stuck and frustrated, and that means it's time for me to reposition him, and start fresh. 

Caught in the act! If loving this bunny is wrong, I don't want to be right.   

We can now set him down in the sitting up position, and he stays there, steady, for a few minutes.  He always looks thrilled with this new vantage point.  At first I surrounded him with throw pillows, sure that he was about to fall back hard on his sweet noggin, but gravity is kinder than my imagination.  He usually collaspes into a side roll.

Exhibit A: sitting up

Exhibit B: falling over! but happy about it!

   

Another totally adorable development:  he takes his pacifer out of his mouth, and bats it around like a cat with a mouse.  If there happens to be a forgotten pacifer lying about on his blanket or in a bed, he goes for it, as if to say, o! my lost paci! reunited at last! Sometimes he sticks back in his mouth, all crookedy, and we combust from the combined forces of his cuteness and intelligence.

He still wakes up very happy and chatty, all oooh and more oooohs.  There have been several mornings (not this week!) where I open my eyes and he's just looking at me, a smile on his face, as if he's been willing me to wake up, but he's using his special mind reading skills instead of babbling. In fact, what I think he says to me, in that mind reading sort of way is this: Wake up, Mama, you are so beautiful.  And smart. Have I ever told you that your morning breath smells like sweet, sweet roses? He does best if we linger in bed, lots of kisses and playing before we face the day.  Of course, when insists on the five o'clock hour wake up routine, this is not happening.

Remember the whole co-sleeping debate? (As well the night feedings? Did I mention that?) Obviously, we're still co-sleeping.  I absolutely could not handle removing him from our bed, emotionally, and after many discussions with Beaux, we reached an agreement on the issue.  (Not that Beaux was after me to kick the kid out of our bed, he just listens to authority more than I do. Or, he thinks more logically about issues.  Something like that.)  I do try to lay Thomas down in either his crib or Pack n' Play, especially if he's not totally zonked out, because he does tend to thrash about and wiggle, and I am afraid of him rolling off the bed.   There have been several nights where he starts out in his Pack n' Play (which is in our bedroom) and then I move him to our bed at some point.  I'm starting to wonder if when he starts his early bird wiggly wake up routine, I should move him to the Pack n' Play with a couple of safe toys to keep him happy, if only to catch a few more minutes of sleep.

I have attempted a going-to-sleep ritual, including Good Night Moon, which sometimes seems to work, but I'm not very consistent, as our schedule is all funky.  Now may be a good time to working on implementing it, as I am on Christmas break and can focus on a routine.  Perhaps starting the 26th, as that is when life will settle back into Normal, and Non-Holiday-Madness.

First Christmas ornament, brought home from the preschool nursery.  I nearly cried.  

I know that this update has a rueful tone, and part of that is because it's been a long, hard week.  Beaux has been working like crazy on two group projects for his online classes. By necessity, his head has been inside the computer monitor.  It's pretty much been all me, when it comes to parenting. I'm ready for both a break (movie date with Bella!) and a shift back into normalcy.  But let me say that I adore this kid, and am falling in love with all of who-he-is, each day, more and more.  His funny, sweet personality dazzles me.  He's becoming such a little person, with a distinct personality and aura.  I truly do enjoy all of Thomas-ness, and am having a ball learning who he is.   Yesterday I dragged him around town with me, running necessary errands and Christmas shopping, and he was a joy.  He cooed over the books and the lights and flashed charming grins at old ladies. There was a small meltdown in the bookstore bathroom (the loud, abrupt flushes scared the crap out of him and then add insult to injury, the electric hand dryers) but other than that? He was the best little companion.  A heavy companion, yes, but one happy little dude.

And I am his happy, lucky little mama. 

Thomas Tuesdays: the Wednesday edition

in the bathtub, originally uploaded by sundayschoolrebel.

Yesterday was the first time I dared to even attempt taking a picture of my kid in the tub. Awhile ago I had the notion, when faced with bathing a wiggly baby all by myself, to let him sit in his Bumbo seat in the tub. We don't worry about pesky recalls around here - he only ever sits in his Bumbo while on the floor or in the tub. Okay, and once in the middle of the bed, surrounded by pillows. But back to the tub - it's a good way to free up both hands, which is helpful when there's a wet, squirmy kiddo.

He adores those bathtub letters - usually they are on the floor of the tub, since they fall off the walls if they dry out. He sits in his seat and happily kicks his feet at all the letters swirling around in the inch or so of water in the tub. Then I stick them on the walls, and with each letter I tell him a word - "L is for Lovie, D is for Daddy" and so on. I'm finding that bathtub is a great way to spend the better part of an hour, and I get a clean kiddo in the end. Everyone wins.

still alive, and twenty-nine

December hath come with a vengance, and there is so much LIFE going on right now.  Lots of things and activities are keeping me busy, away from the computer.  So, I will do my best to update y'all on everything going around here in the Rebel household, while I anxiously count down the hours until I will be free at last, on Christmas break.

First and foremost, my birthday was Saturday! Hooray for my birthday!

Except that it was fairly boring, because Beaux had a mountain load of homework and boring online class stuff to do.  I even had to make my own breakfast. when, usually, we have Beaux's homemade pancakes on Saturday mornings. Welcome to adulthood, right? Just because it's your birthday doesn't mean it's a national holiday. (Even though it should be, absolutely.) We did go out later in the afternoon, for a visit to Target and the bookstore, topped off with a delicious steak supper.  Steak and lobster and risotto and a brownie sundae. All mixed up with Little Wiggly, who was determined to dive bomb into his daddy's salad.  The only thing that distracted him was the margarita menu. 

(Which, oops, I did have a pomegranate margarita. I'm not sure that it exactly goes with steak, but who cares! Pomegranate! Margarita!)

So, all in all, it wasn't half bad.  But, it never truly feels like my birthday until I have my family celebration, and so yesterday found us swooping down the highway, for a monumentally delicious lunch and time with all the pater familias.  And, last but not least, presents, new books, of course - The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett (I'm a sucker for Oprah's book club) and Sena Jeter Naslund's Abundance, all about Marie Antoinette - my long awaited new camera! Which means, of course, pictures:

Beautiful, non blurry pictures!

And also, Sudoku.  I'm the last person on Earth to learn to play, it seems.

Okay, so they're not blurry, but he can throw his body outside the frame faster than I can click.

I'm terribly in love with my new starlight Christmas lights, so much so, I had to share the love with Baby Jesus. 

I'm determined to send out Christmas cards with Little Wiggly's picture in it, so here's some reject shots:

A little too close, not to mention random background objects that drive me crazy.

Charming, whatwith the obvious fake Christmas tree pole, don't you think?

hip hip hooray!

For terribly exciting news, jump over to Rookie Mama (that would be the Green Bean Kid's Mama) for the scoop!

As Ramona Quimby would say...YEEP!

Thomas Tuesdays: the impossible shot

the impossible shot, originally uploaded by sundayschoolrebel.

As you can tell, I'm revelling in my state of post-NaBloPoMo. One whole week has passed without updating my blog, and it's been rather freeing. I have lots of things jostling in my brain, plenty of posts have been formulating and percolating - but for now, I'll continue on my quiet spell and leave you with a funky under-the-Christmas tree shot of Thomas. His raspberries are so adorable, I wish I could package them up and give them as gifts.

month four and a half

Dear Thomas,

You are now four and a half months old, and I'm just now getting around to a letter.  Welcome to the rest of your life.  Your mama is a world class, should-have-a-gold-medal procrastinator.  But I can promise I won't procrastinate on the really big stuff, such as, your birthday.  While I can imagine that I would send cupcakes with you to school oh, a week or two late, because I couldn't find the PERFECT frosting or cupcake holder thingys, I do swear that I will try very hard not to do so. 

Also, maybe I won't send cupcakes at all.  How about brownies? I like brownies.  Just thinking ahead, here.

In the past month or so, you've monumentally changed. You are suddenly, very you, very Thomas - a funny little guy. This is simply the natural order of things, but as I look back at the few things I remembered to write down at the beginning of month four, it seems like old news.  Your fingers are constantly in your mouth. You got your shots, they sucked, and that's all we need to say about that order of business. You now know the joys of Benadryl, as we've dosed you off and on, trying to dry up the congestion that comes with Mississippi's funky non-wintery, schizophrenic weather system.  There was the week you discovered your feet -what a great week, I know! You loved your feet.  They were the best toys in the universe, handcrafted by God.  Now they are old news, who cares, everyone has feet.  Even though today, when we were shopping and you woke up, I pulled off your socks and kissed your feet, right in the middle of the Hobby Lobby aisle.  I'm sure people thought I was crazy, but they don't know just how kissable your feet are, and how I have to do it now, before your whole foot is bigger than my face.  This could happen before I know it, say, before you are out of diapers.

This past month is the month where you truly entered into your own laughter.  Many things will spark it, usually Daddy making ridiculous faces, and he will do anything to make you laugh.  Your laugh is deep, like dark, rich chocolate.  We like to laugh in this family - in fact, it's a major component of your Dad and I's relationship.  Laughter is a must, a constant.  You make us laugh on an average of a hundred times a day, your smile in the morning, your face happy to see this two funny people who make silly faces all the time.  You see, laughter is connected to joy - and you bring constant joy. 

There was also the week where you figured out how to HOLD ON.  You're now a biggish baby, where I can hoist you on my hip.  You bop along with me, and at first you held out your other arm, like you were navigating our path, finding your balance.  Now you're reaching for objects, such as, banana pudding.  You will grab my placemat or dangerously wave your hand towards your daddy's coffee.  While I love coffee with the kind of love that is reserved for long term relationships, and that means that I want to share its joy and goodness with the world, I will take many more years before you are allowed to have coffee.  It's a rite of passage, little dude.

Speaking of rites of passage - this past month, you were baptized.  This is something very special - mysterious - holy.  For years I have experienced and promised alongside our church family to "so order my life after the example of Christ" as I watched child after child be baptized - sung "Come, Be Baptized" for umpteen other children - and now, it was your turn.  Your turn, to be consecrated, to dedicate your life towards this faith, this God - the Word that was and is and will be - this Christ, who makes all things new - that we believe in.  Of course, I firmly believe that you have been God's child, all this time. I simply have the privilege of loving you and taking care of you while we walk this Earth.

There are moments, shattering moments, where the love I have for you is so wide and deep that whoever I was before you arrived, fades away, and I am merely an earthbound mama, a woman who will give her life for yours.  They say that your fumbling understanding of God's love changes when you become a parent, and I can testify to that.  It is as if I now have a wide-angle lens, and I see a sliver of the panoramic cosmic scene, a whole new solar system. God's love is so extravagant and extraordinary, and for some crazy reason, he loves us. The wonderment I experience, when I look at you and puzzle over the fact that I grew this YOU in my own body, that love borne love - I know the magnitude of love I feel towards you is just a fluttering of His great love for all of us. After all, the act of creating a child is exactly that - a creative act - and I imagine God at work, with his great paintbrush, his whizzing, dazzling mysterious ways, shaping your soul. 

When we baptized you, it was a symbolic gesture, but symbols hold great power.  Choosing to baptize you as a tiny baby affirms our belief in God's ongoing promise towards you, towards all of us. And believe me, in this world we live, we need this hope.  Our hope is that you will grow up in this atmosphere of love, and whatever path you go on, you will never remember feeling anything but loved, loved so powerfully that you cannot imagine any way other than a life with God.  He will always be with you, and we do hope and pray that you will joyfully choose Him, as easy and naturally as you reach for us, that you will reach towards a loving God.

I love you like crazy, sweet baby.

Love,
Mama

explanation

In case you're wondering why it seems like you have twenty of so new posts from me in your feed reader - I had to go back and straighten out my post dates for NaBloPoMo.  While I will swear on the very name of JESUS that I posted every single gosh-darned days, because of the way I had my publish time zone set, Typepad would often post my posts with the next day's date.  (I averaged posting around 11 p.m., which is why it would go over.) I caught it once before, but I didn't realize the extent of it until I was double checking everything (and finally figuring out how to do the image link thingamajig, you know? they have help forums? and they do help?!) and there you go.  I don't want anyone to think I am fudging on this, because I POSTED EVERYDAY.  Sometimes I posted with my eyes half open, which explains the whole mess, doesn't it?  I don't usually CARE what day I post, until I'm up for PRIZES.  Not that I was doing it for the prizes, but if I were to miss out on a really cool prize because of something stupid like this, it would be one of those things that will pop in my brain when I wake up in the middle of the night, only to drive me crazy.

Sigh.  Anyway, I just wanted to be clear and not look dodgey.  Remember what I said about caring very much what the Internet thinks?

May Eden have mercy on me.  Amen.