Glamour Mom

When I was delivering Doodlebug, my obstetrician's cell phone rang a couple of times. His ringtone/song or whatever it is called these days is the James Bond 007 theme song. I had forgotten about this, but Daniel brought it up again yesterday. I thought of it again this morning. I could just see Dr. A on a secret 007 mission or him thinking that he was on one. I mean, he went from delivering one baby straight into my room to deliver my baby, and as he entered my room, this funky music started playing. It was just funny to see him enter the room with covert music beginning to play. I began to think that he sorta has a glamorous job. He gets to be on a mission and deliver babies and "save the day."

When I was little, I liked mysteries and spies and thought maybe I could be a detective or lawyer and solve cases like Matlock, Perry Mason, Nancy Drew, or the Sweet Valley High Twins (they were my favorite!). There is a small part of me that likes to be sneaky. I probably had a million and one dreams of different things I could be, but this was a pretty intriguing idea back in the olden day.

In general, I am not someone who likes to be in the spotlight. As I've gotten older, the spotlight has bothered me less. After all I blog and I seek readership of my blog, which tends to put you in the spotlight. But, if you can imagine the quietest, shyest person you've ever known, I was that girl in the past and still have tendencies toward her. :) I step out of my comfort and share for the glory of God, hopefully.

Anyhow, even though I never liked the spotlight, I did make good grades, and one does not make good grades and try to be the best without hoping to be recognized as the best. So I did like recognition and being in the spotlight for a moment (as long as the light shone on me and I didn't have to talk).

I grew up and forgot most of my childhood desires of things to be when I grew up like detectives on secret missions, and instead, I became an engineer, which was not anything I had ever dreamed and was not a glamorous "dream job" either. In college, I felt called to missions. There is a lot of glamour and appeal and on occasion recognition in being a missionary. Maybe this is partly why it appealed to me. But though I waited, God did not send me down that road of glamour (I'm still waiting though). In many jobs, there can a small amount of glamour and a small amount of recognition. So whatever glamour I had as a civil engineer who occasionally oversaw drill rigs, played in the dirt, wrote reports, and made recommendations, I gave up when I decided to become a stay at home mommy.

There is very little glamour in motherhood. I have yet to hear about the red carpet rolled out for the mommy awards in Mommywood. My kids are very rarely going to thank me for disciplining them and making them do and learn things they really do not want to learn and do. As the parent, there is rarely anyone else standing on the sidelines completely cheering me on driven by the same desires and opinions. I will rarely, if ever, be wearing fancy gowns and traveling to exotic places. In fact, my wardrobe may include baby spit up, dirt, food, pee-pee, and poop from whatever secret mission my little ones have been on during their day.

But, mommyhood is a dangerous job. It requires creativity and sneakiness and covert operations. It requires investigations and solving mysteries - the mystery of who your child is, what drives them, and how can you get them to be who God wants them to be. God has given you the clues, you get to solve the mysteries. You get to be your own 007 agent. You might be blessed like me and have a cute little husband to help you along the way. I hope you are. If not, as a single mom, your assignment is even more treacherous. Every day I get to save the day - if only with a kiss, a special treat, a hug, or a kind word. I'm a secret agent too, and I was thinking of making the James Bond 007 theme song MY theme song too. I may not get recognized, but this girl has got secret glamour too. And as a mommy, so do you!

"You will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving." Colossians 3:24

One Week Old

Speed Racer's Makeover

While I was in the hospital, Speed Racer's hair exploded. We knew that as soon as possible, daddy needed to take him to get a haircut. We both like his hair a little longer. I think it probably makes him look a little more on the baby side of things as opposed to the little boy side of things. But, we had been thinking that in the spring we would get it chopped off little boy style. Daniel took him to get his haircut, and he came back a big boy. Of course, my baby boy had already started looking like a giant since Doodlebug's arrival. The haircut made me sad because it sorta represented a new era, BUT I think it looks great. See for yourself.

Before:

After:

Firsts in the First Week

First things in the first week:
First car ride.
First time at home.
First, second, and third walks around the neighborhood in the baby sling.
First and second trip to the pediatrician's office.
First trip to Wal-Mart.
First time home alone with mommy.
First time home alone with everyone except daddy.
First diaper change in the car.
First family of 5 outing to Aldridge Gardens.
First cry in the car experience.

Doodlebug has jaundice just like her brother and sister did when they were newborns, so she got to sleep on the bili-light at home for a couple of nights. She is off of the light already. The downside to this is that she has had her heel pricked every day since Thursday. (5 times)

However, Life is good!

Doodlebug is Here

Our newest addition is here: Doodlebug!

She was born April 13, 2010 at 2:05 pm. She weighed 7 lbs, 10 oz.

Both mommy and baby are doing great. Doodlebug is sweetie pie.

Blessed Assurance

My only assurance is found in Him.

Easter family photo

My Favorite Things (Speed Racer)

Speed Racer might be a mess, but he's the most lovable little boy I know. What they say about boys and their mommas is true. I never expected that I could have as tender of a relationship with my little man as I do. I know that it will all change when he gets older and stops talking and communicating and becomes a man.

But for now, this is what I love to hear him say:

"Momma, I need you!" with arms stretched wide.

"Momma, can I tell you something?" What? "I love you!"

"Momma, I want you!" once again with arms stretched wide waiting for a hug.

"Momma, I need another one" talking about a hug or a kiss.

"Pow, Pow, Pow" with his finger pointed toward me and in an attack stance.

Millions and millions of questions - why this and why that? Okay mommy. I love you mommy.

And although I don't always appreciate it, it always makes me smile that Speed Racer can turn any inanimate object into a toy. His imagination always cracks me up. Anything can zoom, crash, pow, and be fun. And he is generally happy unless we happen upon a toy in a general store, which I will rarely buy him, and He fusses like a mad man. He is all passion, I must say. His enjoyment of life is contagious, and I am glad God blessed me with such a passionate boy who is so full of life and reminds me to be the same. He loves with all his heart and that is the kind of love God demands of us. I am excited to see where this energy gets directed as he gets older.

His latest attempt is to get mommy and daddy to buy him a Buzz Lightyear rocket ship. He came up with that idea after naptime yesterday for no known reason, and he thought daddy would change shoes upon getting home to take him to find his toy. When mommy left later, he just knew that today he would see a Buzz Lightyear rocket ship somewhere in our home.

We've never had a child make a toy list before, so we are crossing into new territory.

A Trip to Alfredo's

I stink at meal planning and am even worse at it when I'm pregnant. I'm frankly not good at much of anything but being pregnant when I'm pregnant and in the final stages. Hubby has been improvising on meals a lot of nights. Last night we went to Alfredo's Pizza Cafe in Pelham. It's inexpensive and if you know what to order, you can get some pretty good food too. But that's really beside the point.

Hubby gets Baked Ziti. I get a spinach and meatball calzone. Princess gets a slice of cheese pizza, and Speed Racer gets a slice of pepperoni pizza. Unless we have a coupon, these are the things we would always get. Very often the kids are forced to try things out of their comfort zone due to our frugality. Last night we had no coupon, so no forcing of new things was endured.

Hubby very often likes to use his straw paper as a projected missile towards my cleavage. He very rarely rings said target, so it is always a fun game for him. Last night, he launched the missile, and Princess saw the paper being hurled toward her mommy. She said very adamantly:

"DON'T THROW THINGS AT MOMMY! SHE'S YOUR GOOD WIFE, AND YOU LOVE HER!!"

Then she proceeded to ball up her own straw paper and hurl it at hubby and said,

"NOW. IT IS FINISHED!"

We got a good laugh at her defensiveness of mommy.

I didn't realize I was about to encounter another bloggable moment, BUT I did.

The food arrives, and hubby grabs a napkin and begins to blot Speed Racer's pizza. Unfortunately or fortunately, I'm not sure, this is one of hubby's quirks. He always blots the pizza before eating it, especially if said pizza is of the pepperoni variety. So he was thinking that it was an act of kindness to be blotting of his son's pepperoni pizza. Then Speed Racer grabs his own napkin and begins to blot his pizza on his own. Daddy lies and tells him it was only to help cool down the pizza. All of the food is piping HOT, so then Princess decides to grab her own napkin and begins blotting her pizza to help cool it down.

I am literally just staring in amazement at what is going on. Hubby is slightly embarrassed, and I have to explain that no blotting does not really cool down the pizza. Hubby then explains that he just wanted to get the grease off of the pepperoni - that Princess really has no need for blotting. It was a very strange moment. I'm not sure if I would like my kids to follow in the blotting tradition, but they were very blindly doing what daddy does, which had some sentimentality attached to it.

{My brother in law and I are known for ribbing Hubby for his practice of blotting, even though I do understand that sometimes it is necessary with pepperonis.}