3 months

You forget so soon that they come so little...

 Who is that tiny, skinny little girl we're holding??

Three months ago, Eliza was just 6 1/2 pounds. Now the little chunket has doubled her weight and she's sporting dimpled elbows, charming fat rolls on her legs, and her oh-so-adorable double chin.

Three months ago, we could barely keep Eliza awake long enough to eat. Now she's playing, smiling, and interacting with us every day. We tease her and she'll tease back. I feed her and she thanks me with smiles. I see her budding personality a little more each day.

Three months ago, the little newborn diapers looked two sizes too big on Eliza. Now she's busting out of Size 1 and I can't wait to finish off our pack and get into Size 2.

Three months ago, I wasn't sure breastfeeding was really possible. Now Eliza and I are pros and feedings take a third or fourth of the time that they used to.

The last three months have completely changed my life. And wow... what a blessed change.  I wasn't sure I could ever do this. But here I am--doing it! Thank you, Eliza, for joining our family. We love you so much and can't imagine not having you along for this wonderful ride!

Fears

My mom taught me something important about fear. She has encouraged me not to view things in life as fears to be reacted to, but rather, concerns to be proactively managed. I try to approach daunting challenges that way--with a mindset of "take a deep breath, we can take care of this." (Never mind my last post and how I told Blake I was "afraid." Ahem.)

I think it's fairly safe to say that all of my concerns generally have to do with the future. What can I say?... I'm a typical worrying female. (Sorry to all of you chill ladies out there. That was an unfair generalization.) Most of my concerns also regard raising my family safely in such a messed up world that is only getting more messed up as time goes on.

A lot can and will happen in the next five years. What will (or won't) be being taught in public schools when it's time for Eliza to start Kindergarten? Will our society have degraded so far that a public education will no longer be a feasible option?

What about pornography, immorality, and immodesty? Shielding and protecting my children at home won't help them be capable adults in this world. They have to learn to live in this world without embracing or being poisoned by its ideologies.

What about large-scale catastrophes that could completely change life as we know it? EMP's, natural disaster, biological warfare... I'm sounding like a paranoid fear-monger, but I'm not meaning to be. I just understand that we are literally in the thick of the last days. Christ IS coming (thank goodness!) but I feel strongly that the state of this world is going to get astoundingly insane before He gets here. How do Blake and I prepare to keep our family safe and provided for in these turbulent times?

***

I'm lucky. Each of the concerns I have for my future and my family's future has an answer in the gospel of Jesus Christ. Things are going to get nasty, to be sure, but we can be prepared as we "take the Holy Spirit to be our guide." We are given counsel and direction so often. Obedience isn't a safeguard against suffering, but as we follow the counsel we are give we can have the assurance that in the end, all will be well for us.

"If ye are prepared, ye shall not fear."

My Notably Quotable Husband

This weekend got a little busy, so Saturday's and Sunday's respective May-Day posts got skipped. I had been working on a list of some of my favorite quotes to share with you, but it's a bit of a jumbled mess so I'll nix it for now and maybe revisit it sometime down the road.

In light of my last post, the "quote" I'll share with you was an exchange I had with Blake last night before falling asleep that made me so grateful he's my husband. (It just so happens that this post fills my post requirements for both Saturday and Sunday. Is that cheating?...)

After a few of the things I had mentioned in our prayer together, Blake asked,

"Are you doing okay?"

"Yeah. I'm just a little afraid."

"Of what?"

"Of our life."

Now at this point, husbands, what would you say? Your answer depends on your wife--you know her better than anyone. Blake knows me well. He didn't skip a beat and somehow his simple response was exactly the calming reassurance I needed:

"Our life is perfect."

"Yes it is.   ...*silence*...  I love you."

"I love you, too."

Did he mean literally perfect? Not really. But it's perfect for us. Whatever happens in the next few weeks will be happening with Blake holding my hand. So I know everything will be just fine splendid. "Our life is perfect."

So... we're moving

Which was obviously inevitable since our dear grandparents and benefactors are returning from their mission, but I mean really moving. The last stronghold we were hoping for in our ward boundaries (3 Bedrooms, 2 Bathrooms, $500/month. WHAT?? Where do we sign?!) was taken by the couple just ahead of us in line. Apparently friends of the renting family get precedent over beloved ward associates. Weird.

So that means we're moving. Not down the street. Most likely away from Happy Valley and beyond the point of the mountain into the big, bad Salt Lake County. Why do I feel like Frodo leaving the Shire and heading for Mordor?

Okay, that's a little dramatic (Who, me? Dramatic?? What IS the world coming to?...), but I can't help wishing that we could stay. We love the area, love the ward, love the library, Beth can visit any time, it's close to Blake's family, and Eliza and I would have loved being so close to G&G when they got home. But it looks like the man upstairs has a different adventure in mind for us than we had for ourselves. I'm sure it'll be a great one! We'll find another area to love, another ward to love, I will bribe Beth to still come visit me by promising to let her bathe Eliza, and perhaps there will be another Seriously-the-Best-Library-in-the-World library where we move to. (Perhaps not. But we'll get over it.)

Buckle up--the next few weeks are going to have some wildly new things in store!

Things I Love About Eliza

I love the way she smacks her lips after she yawns.

I love the way she kicks her legs when she's really happy or excited.

I love how she bats her hands around like she's swimming or trying to box you.

I love her head on my chest when she just wants to snuggle and feel secure.

I love the way she talks to me. She's learning how conversations work.

I love that she knows who her mommy is. She hears my voice and knows that it's me.

I love that she loves me back.

I love my Eliza.

Things that make me uncomfortable...

• Having not showered for too long. 'Nuff said. (Don't point the finger of scorn... We've all been guilty at some point.)
  
• Snorkeling. I feel very uneasy in the fishes' territory. I'll give it another shot someday when Blake and I go somewhere snorkel-worthy just because I know he would love snorkeling, but I'm not sure I'll feel any different about it when that time comes. You stay on your side of the pond, little fishies, and I'll stay on my side...
• Getting Trained. Being the new guy on the job is always tough, no matter what line of work you're talking. (Motherhood included. I've said it many times in the last two and a half months, but there's a very sharp learning curve when it comes to becoming a parent. Even with all of the uncomfortable stretching, learning, and growing, the beautiful little bundle you get out of it is certainly worth the leap!)
• Conflict. It makes me want to run and hide, crawl into a fetal position, or stick my head in the ground. This is something I'm going to need to get over before raising my kids. Either that, or I'll get over it while raising my kids.
• The Unknown. I wish like crazy we knew where we were moving at some point this month. (G&G will be home from their mission June 1st!) At least then I could make plans or get used to certain ideas. I can be flexible on a dime if I need to, but I prefer to reframe my paradigms in advance.
• Driving without already knowing where I'm going. Kind of like in the last point, I want to know when I'm going to need to turn well before I need to turn. I also don't like driving with a car-full of high-energy people that are talking really loudly. (Hmm, doesn't that sound like a minivan full of children?...) I remember times in high school when I was the driver and had to ask everybody to take it down one energy level for the sake of my nerves. ("You don't know what I suffah!")
• The misuse of money. We are so blessed. This truly is the promised land. Our bounteous resources and affluence are not merely gifts from God, they are a stewardship for which we will be held accountable. I'm not saying we should live in sackcloth and ashes and give all our money to the poor. But I get uncomfortable at the thought of having a home or a car or a wardrobe or whatever that when I stand before the Lord would cause him to say, "You spent what I gave you on this? Didn't you see me naked, or hungry, or thirsty, or sick, or imprisoned? Why didn't you minister unto me? 'Then shall he answer them saying, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me' (Matthew 25:45)." I never, ever, EVER want to experience that. Nothing in this world would be worth having that painful interaction.
• The misuse of time. Like money, the time we're given is a resource, blessing, and stewardship. I struggle often to use my time wisely and to its maximum potential, and I have a sick feeling that a very similar conversation to the one above is just as possible in respect to how we use our time. It is a weakness that I'm trying hard to work on, but goodness me, it's an uphill climb! (But a climb worth making, to be sure.) Aside from making me uncomfortable, I just get cranky when I look back on my day and see how much time has been wasted on meaningless, stupid things. Thus, my New Year's Resolution to log on to facebook less than 100 times this year. That has blessed my life so far this year.
• Unrealized potential. Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing or being or becoming as much as I could be or ought to be. At times when I wonder, I often think of an exchange on The King and I. Anna is packing up her bags to go back to England after finding out the King is dying. Her son Louie asks her, "Was he as a good a King as he could have been?" I appreciate Anna's response: "I don't think any man has ever been as good a King as he could have been. But this one tried. He tried very hard." I may not be as good a mom, or a wife, or a daughter, or a friend as I could have been, but we're in mortality--hardly the setting for our finest hours if you ask me. It's comforting to know that I have all of eternity to progress and realize my full potential. And in the meantime, I'm trying. I'm trying very hard and doing the best that I can. And I am growing and developing and realizing my potential--small steps at a time. I think one of my favorite scriptures sums it up well:  "That which is of God is light; and he that receiveth light, and continueth in God, receiveth more light; and that light groweth brighter and brighter until the perfect day" (D&C 50:24). The "perfect day" is within all of our reach as we receive light and continue in God.

Introducing: The Nostalgia Expert

I've been a bit of a writing scrooge over the last few months. Sometimes I claim I'm too tired to write (which is ironic because a lot of my recent posts have been in the middle of the night), but really I think I've just been in one of those phases of my life where I don't want to share myself--my inner workings, feelings, and musings. Which is totally preposterous because I know sharing myself is so good for me. Writing is generative. It generates thoughts, cultivates life, invites connection, and even when the subject matter is heavy, it makes me feel like things are right in the world. (Or at least will be soon.) For people who see writing as a death-warrant given by professors and teachers, they probably think that last sentiment is completely bonkers. That's okay. We all have our ways of approaching life, and my approach includes words. Lots and lots of words.

So in response to this writing rut, I'm going to accept the invitation to blog everyday in May. Some posts may be better than others, but here's to writing and sharing. (*Cheers.*)

Without further ado...

Day #2: Educate us on something you know a lot about or are good at.

I kid you not that the first thing that came to my mind was changing poopy diapers. But that would increase my number of posts about poop and for heaven's sake, I can't write about poop all month long!

So I'll take something else I know quite a bit about:  holding on to {sometimes ridiculous} stuff for {way to long and for} sentimental reasons.

I took these pictures on the laptop last summer when Blake and I were farming at home for the summer. I decided to go through my closet to consolidate and de-junk some of the things that I'd been holding onto for a while. Check out some of the things that I found:

Yikes. Is that what I think it is? 

Yep. It's my bright pink cast from fourth grade. 

Nasty.

What do I have to say for myself? Nothing.
There is no justification here.

Moving on.

Specimen #2:

My very last set of brackets.

(Which, incidentally, were my first set of brackets... 

I never broke one off on a jolly rancher or some other contraband. That's right:  star braces-student.)

Hooray for awkward stages gone by!

Hooray for straight teeth!

Hooray for orthodontia!

I had to laugh when I saw this one. I know myself all too well.

Here is the inscription on the back of the Chemistry folder:

"Note: This is stuff from my junior year. I figured if I'm in a chem class in college, I'll have no idea what I'm doing and I'll need a refresher course. If I don't have a college chem class, this can be chucked without sentimentally going through it. Signed:  Annie Briggs."

How very efficient of me. Plan ahead for a potential scholastic tragedy but bypass the work of having to go through all the notes and worksheet bilge twice.

P.S. Never had to take a college chemistry class. {Angelic Chorus} That was a happy day when I came to the realization that I would never take any chem courses.

P.P.S. A huge thank you to my beloved Kate for helping me squeak by in chemistry junior year. Definitely not by strongest suit.

So I think we can all come to the conclusion that sometimes I keep things that don't necessarily need to be kept. But eventually they get chucked after the second or third round of de-junking, so that's good. 

Sometimes I keep things that really are important, though. Important for history or record-keeping, or important because when I revisit them again, I always smile and feel uplifted and lighter.

That happened to me recently, and I began a blog post about it that never made it out of draft form. Here is a quote from March 6th:

"I'm feeling very nostalgic tonight. There have been several bins sitting on our office floor that are full of things I need to sort through, organize, and hopefully dejunk. Tonight I decided to open one up and see if I could make some headway.

Every time I attempt to do this sort of thing, I am reminded of how sentimental I am and how I hate to throw away things that mean something to me. Usually, by the second round of dejunking (the things in boxes/bins having made it through the first round), I'm able to let go of things that I originally had a hard time throwing in the can. {This next bit will sound vaguely familiar.} Oh, you know, the cast from when I broke my arm, my last set of braces that were taken off when my orthodontic adventure ended, and my "first kiss"--the laminated wrapper of a Hershey's kiss that my head-over-heels crush gave me in seventh grade. *Please, do me a favor and shake your head in disbelief that I kept my cast and braces. The kiss, on the other hand, I find rather amusing and endearing and I refuse to chalk it up as preteen idiocy.* These things I can chuck. But it's the notes and letters and cards from people that I love that seem to always make the cut when deciding what to keep.

Tonight, the particular bin I opened was a little more recent--everything from college. I found a sheet protector filled with notes and cards--some from my mom, some from Beth who was on her mission, but most from the dear, dear girls of Apartment #5.

Indulge me for a moment while I invite you on a walk down memory lane.

Annie, I know today has been a little rough, but keep your chin up--you'll pull through it. Anything you undertake to do is within your power. Love,---

Annie,  'Discretion is for fools and simpletons.' Love,---

Annie, I love talking to you! Thank you for always being the rational advice-giving voice in my head. I can't tell you how glad I am to have you as my roommate!

Annie-- I didn't get a hug from you (before either Thanksgiving or Christmas break), so here it is! {New sticky note} *BIIIG HUG* Love,---

Dear Anne,     Love.    Love,---

Annie,  You are a sweetheart! I love you! Love, ---  {New sticky note} P.S. I kissed a boy so there's ice cream in the fridge. (Just kidding... about the boy.)

I could make a book with the love I've received from those girls. I wasn't always the most stellar of roommates (it was an odd stage of my life where I was sometimes more closed and guarded than I wanted to be), but they always offered me love, compassion, and tolerance in spite of my mistakes and shortcomings."

I love those girls. Way more than I think they realize. I think of them almost daily, wonder how they're doing, and pray for their success in all they're doing in life. I'm not sure how long it will be before those notes make it to the can in a de-junk round. Probably never. Unless I'm senile and don't remember who I am, let alone my college roommates. I learned so much from these girls--fierce loyalty, forgiveness, laughing through life, "following your heart," and taking advantage of all of life's opportunities. I feel so blessed to have had their influence at such an important time of my life.

I'm glad. Glad for notes, glad for roommates, and glad for sentimentality. I'm glad because a little piece of my past that I've chosen to hold onto has made my heart light my smile genuine today. It really has been a wonderful life, it continues to be day after day, and I know it will be in the future.