Mickey Mooch

It has been more than a year since I've blogged. I blame my lack of writing on hormones, being a first-time mom, having 2 full-time jobs - one in ministry and one as a mommy, moving to a new town and much more that I can't even remember. It hasn't really bothered me, until I started to look back at iPhone photos of the last 14 months - watching my little Mickey Mooch go from a wrinkly, lop-sided, squinty newborn to a full-speed ahead, solid as a linebacker, good eatin', good sleepin' talking 14-month old. I can hardly remember the days and nights (they all run together) of bouncing a newborn while sitting on the exercise ball. It's the only way he could be soothed. Wrapping that swaddle (baby burrito) for the millionth time - even up to 6 months old. Croup. First teeth. First rolls. First words. Firsts. And it makes me kind of sad. I never thought I'd forget, but mommy brain cells really don't come back. It's the truth. You continue to lose them until you're driving around town with your coffee on the roof of your car, your underwear on backwards and one brown and one black shoe on. So for the sake of my memory, for the sake of time moving at warp speed and for the immeasurable amount of love I feel for my sweet boy, I'm going to challenge myself to document each day. I don't want to miss a moment. I don't want to forget how special each day is and how fast he's growing. Here's my mommy brain dump for the last 14m to my Michael, my Mickey Mooch: - Mommy had bad post-partum depression with you. I loved you more than life itself, but anxiety and insomnia really overwhelmed me. Thank God for pharmaceuticals. Don't let me forget to tell you about the doula who came over to help...ca-razy! - I had a great labor and delivery - broke my water, gave me a low dose of Pitocin and minutes later my contractions were a minute apart. Stopped the Pitocin, gave me an epidural (took 3x to get it to work) and you were here after 20 minutes of pushing. The doctor almost didn't make it! - Nursing didn't go so well for us, but I blame my mental state and the mastitis. But you've always been my big eater. You would nurse for 30 minutes on each side, then I'd feed you some formula while I pumped, then give you that. You loved to eat! You still do :) - Around 5-6 months, you really became my good sleeper and have been a rock star since then. We had to sleep train you though. The first night, you cried until you threw up and so did I. But the second night, you whimpered for 5 minutes and the next night you were golden! Now, at 14m, you go to bed at 7 and sleep till 7:30 the next morning! - You cut your first tooth around 6.5 months and now have 8 teeth! You love to brush your teeth each night. - You did an army crawl until you were 10m old. Then all of sudden you got on all fours, then starting standing and at 13m you took OFF. In less than a month, you're running every where. We just got you your first pair of shoes - size 6!! - You will eat just about anything! Although, for some reason, you don't love strawberries. I can't keep enough bananas, oranges and blueberries in the house. - At your 12m appt, I told the doctor that you were saying close to 10 words..and it's the truth. You say; blueberry, ball, bubbles, bird, mom, dad, nana, eye, shoe, tata (for your grandma DD), moon. You growl when you see a truck...good ole motor noises. - You are obsessed with balls, dogs and trucks. - When we play in your playroom we'll say "DJ, drop me a beat." And you'll run over to your exersaucer and hit the little piano that plays a latin jam. We have a miniature dance party until it's time to do it again. - You love to wrestle and explore. You're a creature of habit and pretty much follow the same routine of playing every night. Tent in the playroom, DJing, looking out the window, playing with the coasters, in the kitchen cabinets, to the dining room, up the stairs to pull out the nightlight, then running in each room, finally into the tent in the boys' room and then to bath time. - Just last week, you started putting your face in the water and blowing bubbles in the bath tub. - You don't like to be rocked at night. You want to get in your pjs, get your paci and be put to bed. I think that's enough for now :) I will keep peppering these entries with my memories of you, sweet boy. I cannot even express to you how much your dad and I love you! You are the fulfillment of my heart's desire. You are the answer to prayers that started LONG, LONG ago. You are the embodiment of one of God's promises to me. I love you.

Eucharisteo - 1000 gifts

"In the original language, "he gave thanks" reads "eucharisteo."

"The root of the word eucharisteo is charis, meaning "grace."

"Eucharisteo, thanksgiving, envelopes the Greek word for grace, charis. But it holds its derivative, the Greek word chara, meaning "joy."

"The only real fall of man is his noneucharistic life in a noneucharistic world...Non-eucharisteo, ingratitude was the fall - humanity's discontent with all that God freely gives."

"How in the world, for the sake of my own joy, do I learn to use eucharisteo to overcome my one ugly and self-destructive habit of ingratitude with the saving habit of gratitude - that would lead me back to deep God-communion?"

"Joy is the realest reality, the fullest life and joy is always given, never grasped. God gives gifts, and I give thanks and I unwrap the gift given: joy."

"Gratitude for the seemingly insignificant - a seed - this plants the giant miracle...if I miss the infinitesimals, I miss the whole....and when I give thanks for the seemingly microscopic, I make a place for God to grow within me."

"The act of naming grace moments, this list of God's gifts, moves beyond the shopping list variety of prayer and into the other side...the inner walls of His powerful, love-beating heart. This list is God's list, the pulse of His love."

"It really is a dare to name all the ways that God loves me."

This is what I read in the beginning of Ann Voskamp's book 1000 Gifts that stopped me in my tracks.


I picked up the book because I had seen numerous Facebook updates about it. I had seen the #1000gifts hashtag used behind updates that said things like "Sunrises on foggy mornings #1000gifts."

I was curious. Did I feel like I needed more joy in my life? Like I needed to live life to the fullest? Not really, I kind of already felt I was there. Sure, I wanted to spend more time with God each day, but outside of that, I was feeling pretty good about things.

And then January 13th came and went. Baby boy's due date. And I was kind of irritated.

Then my appointment on the 18th came and went with a "let's ride this out" prognosis and I was flat out pissed. I had to have a pedicure and some alone time to get out of my funk. Why can't anyone help me take control of this situation and get this baby out? Sure, I'm only 5 days late, but come on folks, this is getting ridiculous! I'm a ticking time bomb of placenta and amniotic fluid and C4-like hormones.



Eucharisteo.

Not cancer. Not home foreclosure. Not nuclear holocaust. I'm 5 days overdue with my first child. Totally normal. Even expected actually.

So why was I being such an ill pill about it? (Please see above note about C4-like hormones.)

Because of my non-eucharisteo, my ingratitude.

So, today, I take the challenge to learn gratitude by listing my 1000 gifts. Not in one day, but to chronicle how God is working in the coming months, in my heart and in my head.

I realize that once Michael gets here, some of my ingratitude will be replaced with the miracle and wonder of ten tiny fingers and toes. But what happens when he has his days and nights mixed up? When he blows out a diaper in the middle of the night? When Mike has been traveling for a week and I feel overwhelmed? Will I lose my ability to give thanks for the "infinitesimal and miss the whole?"

I can't let that happen. God is too good and loves me too much for that kind of indifference, that kind of neglect, that kind of blatant adolescent obstinance. I choose thanksgiving, grace and joy - eucharisteo.

I want to make room for God. I want to be a wife and mom that loves You with all her heart and finds joy in the grace You give me each day. So Lord, rid me of myself.

So here I start with #1.

Thank you God for this squirmy, overdue, 8lb baby in my belly. Thank you that I have been able to sustain this pregnancy and that both he and I are healthy. Thank you that he is his father's namesake. Thank you for this time that I have gotten to know him - how he like to have his heiney rubbed, how he loves M&Ms and country music. And for how he is getting to know me, because like You, he has heard the beating of my heart from the inside. Thank you for this lesson in patience. What better lesson for a new mom of a little boy. Patience.

Evolution

Just noticed that my last post was May 2011 and now it's now January 2012. That's quite a few months! Jeez Louise!

I should apologize - not that I have any readers, or that I necessarily want an audience - but to myself for the lack of blogging discipline. And I've had some really good material too :)

Here's a quick update on where I've (more like we, Mike & I) have been since May.

- Right after my last blog post, I learned that we are pregnant! Our little peanut was due January 13 (that's right, 6 days ago), but he's still baking away. Hopefully, this time next week Junior will be here!
- Mike began a new job that requires him to travel...A LOT. Like 18 days out of the month a lot. It's a great job and he really likes it. And if I can brag, he's doing great at it! This was a good set-up for me in the beginning of this pregnancy when all I wanted to do was lay on the couch, watch Law & Order SVU and eat weird combos like canned oyster stew and fruit smoothies - soon to be replaced by an insatiable hunger for chocolate chip cookies.
- In August, my mother-in-law lost her battle to brain cancer. It was a sad but very beautiful time for us. We each got to spend some time with her and I have no doubt in my mind that she is with our Heavenly Father - happy, healthy, whole. She told me once, that she has known since she was a very young child that she was chosen as God's daughter. It's been an interesting ride since then, but our memories of Moomie are strong and resilient just like her!
- And because God is so good, he fulfilled Zechariah 9:12 for our family. Return to me all you prisoners who still have hope (that would be our family for sure) for this day I declare that I will give you two blessings for each one of your troubles.

We count little Michael as the first blessing for our family. The second is a miracle. My sister and brother-in-law who struggled for many years with infertility - to be blessed with twin boys 6 years ago - found out they are having a little girl. No medical intervention, no planning, just a gift from God. Our babies will be (at this point) 3 weeks apart! Two blessings for each of your troubles. Thank you God.
- My middle sister is now engaged and getting married in November.

So, yeah 2012 is going to be a busy one.

Which leads me to the title of this post "Evolution." I started this blog out of a desire to write, a sense of loneliness at my old job, an urge to feel challenged, to find something to fill my time. And it did that for a few good months - but it felt very "me" focused.

Now, I want those things to change. I want this blog to be a place of family history - documentation of our days. The small, funny things that happen to a new family with a little boy. The journey God is taking us on.

Not necessarily to be shared, but to be the stable for all our great family memories and photos. If friends want to read, GREAT! But I also know that it could be boring. Example: Little Michael had diarrhea today and I washed 8 loads of sheets. Titillating right?

So that's the evolution of this lil ole blog. Hopefully you won't hear from me for a while because I'm birthing a baby. But at this point, I may be the first human to have the gestation period of an elephant.

Ten Second Tom

I'm back! I hate that I've had such blogging amnesia. It's like I created this little account, blogged a couple of times and then poof - I was ten second Tom - only remembering what happened 10 seconds ago.

Since my last post - which I just re-read to even remember the who, what, when and how of this here blog - I've had some major life change. I left my little desk at the end of the hallway in the industrial park in the hood (complete with feral dogs and tent cities) to my dream job. My career. My calling. My ministry.

In January, I started as the Director of Communications at my church - a church with three locations, more than 5,000 attending on the weekends and a pastor and leadership with a true heart for what God has called us to do. Every day I am humbled that I get to come work here each and every day.

I work with some wickedly funny people. Can you use "wickedly" to describe church folk? Hmmm...do't know.

They are genuine and caring and fun and real. They love coffee, good music and Jesus. I get to wear jeans - not just on casual Friday but every day...WHAT?! Jeans & Jesus? Yup, that's right!

Mike and I celebrated our year anniversary on the 20th. It's been a great year but a really tough one too.

In September, his mom was diagnosed with a malignant, inoperable brain tumor after having what we think was a seizure. It's been a year where we have had to learn how to be caregivers (when we're in town), interpreters for a very articulate woman who is now struggling to find her words and her memory, cheerleaders for a family that's looking for God's grace and mercy in an insanely difficult and plan UGH SICK time - and navigators through healthcare lingo, grief assimilation and the sometimes turbulent newlywed waters.


And while this is not a good situation in any way shape or form - we've gotten to spend some really valuable family time. I've gotten to know his mom in a deep and intimate way. Mike and I have learned how to support each other - learning how much we really need each other.

Since September, among the other craziness, we both have changed jobs, I've run a 1/2 marathon, and I'm sure there are some other amazing things in the pipeline for our little family.



Because God is good. God is infinite. God is faithful. And we are chosen, holy and dearly loved. He will not forget us.

And I will not forget my blog. Amen.

O.M.G.

O.M.G. - and I mean that. Not in the preteen, Justin Beiber "I can't believe it, gag me with a spoon!" way. But in the "Oh. My. God." divine intervention kind of way. That's what happened to me this morning on the way to work. A ginormous O.M.G.
>
> This week has been tough for me. I have felt really sad, lost, frustrated - like an Eeyore version of my tapioca pudding-blob self. Like I am some sort of gray vapor - just existing, waiting for God's next big move to come and save me. I have been complaining, pouting, playing the blame game and just being rotten - mostly to myself. It's not that I don't believe God will come through - it's that I just can't stand to be where I am anymore and it's rotting me from the inside out.


>
> This morning, I got up early and read the first chapter of John Burke's book "Soul Revolution." A lot of what he talked about was having a relationship so deeply rooted in love and trust for God that we begin to feel alive. ALIVE! I like the sound of that. That we begin to have a life that - and I quote - has "excitement with peace, adventure with security and lasting intimacy with contentment."



>
> And while all of that could've contained its own O.M.G., it was only the beginning. He then focused on our willingness to hear God. Reading this, along with some really thought-provoking, soul-baring, vat of coffee requiring questions - had my wheels turning this morning. I felt, for the first time, in a long time, that what I was doing was not working. I needed to fire myself. So I handed it over... for about an hour and ten minutes at least. Until I turned out of my neighborhood.
>
> I made the turn out of my neighborhood and started heading the back way through Ballantyne to Starbucks (like I needed additional caffeine at this point!) My nasty, rotten egg voice started chiming in: I hate my this. I hate that. Why is my life like this? How did I get stuck here? Ugh. Groan. Despair. Yuck. Puke. Blah. And then I stopped and said out loud - No more. No more.
>
> At this point I had made the turn onto Lancaster Highway and my pep talk was going along swimmingly. I sound so manic don't I? Up. Down. Up. Down.
>
> On the left hand side of the road is an old abandoned house that I've never really noticed before. The windows are boarded with plywood. The yard is overgrown. The paint is peeling. At one point in time, it was probably a beautiful little country home with a family and a dog and maybe someone who played guitar on the front porch. But it looks like that family just up and left.



In the split second I pass this house, I hear a voice in my heart that says "I wonder what treasures lie inside?" And like a pin prick to a water balloon, I immediately burst - into big, fat, meaty tears. And I'm not a crier.



>
> I cried because that voice wasn't mine. I know it wasn't mine because if it had been mine, it would have rambled. It would have wondered about the possible vintage furniture and dishes still inside. It wouldn't have been succinct or even grammatically correct.
>
> It was God. And He wasn't talking about the house. He was talking about my heart. He was talking about my every day struggles. "I wonder what treasures lie inside?"
>
> O.M.G., right? I've never had that happen before.
>
> And while I know I will continue to ride the rollercoaster of doubt and faith, I arrived at my desk - at the end of a hallway, in an industrial office park, in the hood - thinking...I wonder what treasures lie inside?
>
> Thank you God. Thank you.

Serve.

A couple months ago, our church introduced a 21-day experiment in prayer to the women attending Women Under Construction one night. Basically, each day, you prayerfully read one of John's 21 chapters. After reading, you jot down a verse that jumped out at you. On the flip side of the paper, you write down three prayer requests and pray that verse over those requests throughout the day. It was A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!

So I'm doing my own little 21-day experiment in prayer - except for it's in Philippians instead of John and it will last however many days there are chapters - I'm wild, I'm crazy, I'm a regular Thelma and Louise (add in some Jesus, subtract some Brad Pitt.)



I was reading Philippians 2 this morning and thought it was a wonderful reminder of why it's so important to serve others.

In this book, Paul is in jail, literally in chains, and writes to the church in Philippi. He has all these incredible instructions on how we're supposed to live as Christians. Talk about a lemons into lemonade kind of outlook. I'm not sure I would have been as hopeful and positive if I was in some stony, cold, damp, dark, musty jail cell.

(This is a photo of what they think is the actual jail cell Paul was in. Imagine some brawny Roman soldiers and some sort of anti-escape barring across the doors.)



Philippians 2: 1-3 jumped out at me this morning:

If you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any fellowship with the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves.

The rest of the chapter talks about imitating Christ and how he was the ultimate servant and our lives should reflect that. And when it does, we will be like shining stars in an extrememly dark night. I just love that image!



Imagine what it looks like to the outside world when you hold the door for a stranger. Give someone a sincere compliment and don't expect one in return. Make a meal for a friend who's struggling. Send a care package to a soldier. Visit with an elderly neighbor. The list goes on and on.

For more ideas on how and where to serve, checkout Hands on Charlotte.

The Reason God Gave Me Teeth

A few images from the carnal eating extravaganza that was our Fourth of July trip to NYC/Hoboken. In case you must know the origin of the culinary lovefest above - steak for two at the famous Peter Luger steakhouse in Brooklyn and the equally famous (at least to Mike) Vito's sub from Vito's Italian Deli in Hoboken... Washington Street to be exact...run, don't walk.

In addition, we consumed:
- No less than 3 slices each of pizza from Benny Tudino's. That doesn't sound like much to the layman, but to those in the know, you understand that Christopher Columbus had oceanic maps smaller than these slices.
Insider tip: Should be consumed after 9 p.m.

- Three plates of mussels in a white wine-garlic sauce, 5+ baskets of bread from Dom's, veal, chicken, eggplant and wine from Leo's

- Long Island Sounds' finest clams from Biggie's Clam House. Mr. Biggie is a tad scary to this southern girl, but he can shuck a mean clam.

- Corned Beef on rye at Yankee Tavern - stop the madness

I know I'm forgetting something...hmmm? I'm pretty sure there's a piece of prosciutto pressing my temporal lobe causing this unfortunate memory lapse.