Happy Birthday Micah!

Before we had Micah, our lives were carefree...we could just pick up and go on trips, sleep whenever we want, and we were pretty much in control of our own schedules.

But after we had Micah, everything changed.

Since the moment we set eyes on him, Colin and I have not been the same. Micah immediately started bringing joy into all of our lives!

Suddenly, we couldn't imagine life without this little blessing, and we couldn't get enough of him.

Since April 5th, 2007, he has brightened up every day...

He has made us laugh, cry with joy, and rediscover the world around us.

Watching him learn new things has been one of the most exciting and rewarding experiences!

We know he loves us and needs us and it is hard to believe that our baby is actually old enough to tell us so now.

Micah has an incredibly sweet spirit. He loves people, he loves to try to make everyone laugh, He loves singing Psalms, he loves the outdoors and he loves to learn new things. We are SO proud of him!

We are so thankful to God for giving us these last two years, and we greatly look forward to the future. We know we have so much more to teach our little guy - and though it is humbling and challenging at times, we know it is our duty as parents and that God will be the strength in our weakness!

We love you little Micah! We know you are a gift from God to us and we could not be happier that He saw fit to make us YOUR mommy and daddy! Happy Birthday Love!



Since Micah's birth, our prayer for him as been Psalm 1:

"Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of mockers. But his delight is in the law of the Lord and on that law He meditates day and night. He shall be like a tree that brings forth its fruit in season, whose leaf shall not wither; and whatever he does shall prosper."

First Two Years

I think his first two years have been good to him...

I just can't believe tomorrow my baby is TWO!

Goodbye Crib, Hello Big Boy Bed!

I'm one of those moms who thought I would have my son in his crib until he was three...or, seriously? Until he learned how to climb out of his crib like a civilized person. Because what's more comforting to a tired momma/control freak than a safe and comfortable container for her child? I can't think of anything!

However, those days are over. My son will never learn how to climb out of his crib with skill because he learned how to throw himself head first over the edge first. And then, he did it on a regular basis, because he noticed a pattern. If he threatened to throw himself over the edge in a dramatic fit, I stayed in his room. Even if it was two in the morning. And I wouldn't leave - for hours. I noticed a pattern too: someone was in control, and it wasn't me. No longer was the crib working out for our family. The time had come for the big boy bed.

Sunday night, March 29th, was Micah's first night in his bed, and I am so impressed with how smoothly things have transitioned! We made a very big deal out of it, and so Micah was pretty excited about his big boy bed. He "helped" Daddy build it (like only a one-year-old can), and then we snuggled in to it for our new bedtime routine, which means mommy or daddy gets to be IN bed with Micah while we read him his bedtime story. Micah thinks that's pretty cool, and he has done so well. He is being so obedient, even waiting quietly in bed in the morning until I come and get him. I didn't even teach him that!

I am so thankful it has been so much easier than I thought it would be. I am convinced parenting will be easier the second time around (I think I see all the second-time moms rolling their eyes). I am just so scared of everything! I really relate to Grover in the book, "The Monster at the End of This Book." (Did I just say that?) The whole book he is scared because there is going to be a MONSTER at the END OF THIS BOOK!!! Well, in the end, the monster turns out to be HIMSELF. I think the greatest obstacle in every new parenting venture has seriously been me. Giving up nursing and the bottle and the crib, etc., would all have been much easier if I had not let fear get in the way. I make things into much bigger deals than they ever needed to be! I wonder if I really will learn my lesson the second time around?

Recent Discoveries

Lately, Micah has been discovering some new things.

For instance, blue paint. A few days ago I left him alone in his high chair for two minutes with a small jar of blue paint and a piece of construction paper. Yes, there was a paint brush, but really, I think it's clear that I haven't been getting enough sleep lately because, what was I thinking? If the paint brush got used, I'll never know. What almost two-year-old wouldn't want to dig right in? Apparently, those two minutes were just that important to me.

Another discovery? Pockets. Micah realized he had them one day and now he loves them. My favorite is when he's wearing his peacoat at church and he's got his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. He looks so Brooks Brothers!

But before you think my son is a preppy snob, let me tell you about Micah's favorite discovery: the river. He can't get enough of it! He and Daddy go down there on a regular basis to throw sticks and rocks into the water and see if they can spot a passing duck or boat. The only problem is that with all the rain, sleet and snow we've had recently, Micah's trips to the river often leave him stuck in the mud. I guess little boys' shoes were made to get dirty.

(P.S. Another thing Micah discovered how to do is throw himself head first out of his crib to manipulate me into staying in his room for hours every night when I would much rather be sleeping. Without sleep, I become a crazy person, and lets just say it shown me a lot of not-so-pretty things about myself! So Micah hasn't been the only one making discoveries around here. I've discovered that I lean way too much on my own strength when it comes to parenting. I've gotten a new glimpse at the depths of sin in my heart, which means I've also discovered a new sense of awe and gratitude at the grace that has been shown me. I've been reminded that really, parenting, and if not parenting, just living, is all about grace, grace, grace, and more grace...where would I be without the Gospel??? So, discoveries get a little more complicated as you get older - but I'm so thankful God isn't through with me yet!)

So Wuved...

This little guy is so "wuved" by his family, there just aren't words enough to tell him! He'll never, ever know just how MUCH...

Elli Came to Town!

Last week, Micah and I eagerly anticipated the arrival of Uncle D, Aunt Meg, and cousin Elli, the newest addition to our family. I wasn't sure if Micah would understand what was going on when I told him who was coming to town, but I underestimated him. The whole way to Papa and Nona's house he said, "Elli? Elli? D? Meg?" and swung his feet excitedly in his car seat while looking out the window expectantly. It was going to be a good day.

This little angel awaited us at my parents' house. She gets bigger and cuter each time I see her! I love her SO MUCH! I can't get enough of her!

Uncle B, hogging Elli. Er, I mean, holding her.

Aunt Meg is doing very well and is such a natural mother! I just wish she lived next door to me so that we could be best buds every day.

Uncle D and his little Elli.

For dinner, Uncle D grilled up some barbeque chicken. It was mighty tasty!

Uncle D was nice enough to let Micah "help" him, and all night, he told us so. "I cooked. I did it!" He even ate it. Micah doen't eat, so I definitely need to employ him in the kitchen more often.

Elli and me, at the end of the night. I was savoring every last minute with my little neice!

She was quite tuckered out. But she better get used to the parties! It's the family way.

Do YOU Pray 100 Times a Day?

This St. Patrick's Day, I pretty much had the best St. Patrick's Day ever. I was invited to Hall of Men, which, I'm sure as you gather from the name, is a strickly male event. I have been jealous of the little gathering ever since the first time they met and my dad told me about the table they sit around (carved by George Elder), the toasts, the orating, and the home-brewed beer. My time at the Hall of WOmen, as my friend Tom insightfully labeled it, was all that I hoped it would be and more. Not only did we get to hear live music, something that always entertains me, but we got to hear a very well-told story about St. Patrick (being the faithful Protestant that I am, I have to resist quotation marks there), the Namesake of this day on which most wear green, some wear orange, and some just get pinched.

Though the story was incredibly interesting and educational, one of the facts about St. Patrick that stood out the most to me is that he prayed 100 times every day. As soon as this was said, there were some "wows" from the little gathered assembly. I am sure many people felt guilty that they don't pray 100 times a day. But I, cynical person that I am, had a different thought. I thought it was weird that someone knew exactly how many times he prayed each day, especially when the number was so high. I wondered how Patrick kept track of all of his prayers. Did he count them in his head? That would be difficult to do, and someone like me would lose track well before fifty! Maybe he tallied them with a feather dipped in ink or a stick in the sand. Still, that's a lot of counting. I wondered if he could really rest each day until he had prayed his hundredth prayer. I wondered if he ever missed a day. When he did, I wondered if that made him feel like a failure.

Let me be clear: I need to pray more. It would do me well to pray 100 times a day. But praying 100 times a day will not earn me favor with God. It will probably bring lots of good things my way (communication with God is always a good thing!), but it does not make me a good person. St. Patrick's story painted him in a pretty amazing light. He definitely had a hard life and seemed to rise above the circumstances dealt him. He did some wonderful things in the name of Christ. But we have to remember that if he is in heaven today, it is not because he prayed 100 times every day. It is because he was a sinner saved by grace. It was because his old man was crucified with Christ on the cross, and it was no longer Patrick who lived, but Christ who lived in him.

It is so easy for us, as humans, to put other humans up on pedestals on which they don't belong. (I say this, not because I felt the storyteller was putting St. Patrick up on a pedestal, but because I do it all the time.) The problem is that this takes the focus off of Christ and places it on a mere man - a man who probably had a lot of selfish, sinful motives for doing all of the good deeds he did. But let this be a comfort to you, next time you hear that someone prayed 100 times a day and you think, "hm, I should be doing that. I wonder if God is happy with me?" Christ didn't come for the healthy, righteous man. He came for the sinner. There is only one way to heaven and it isn't through you. You can't work your way there; you can't earn God's favor. It is only through trusting in Christ's perfect Righteousness that one can be saved. In Christ alone our hope is found! It reminds me of one of my favorite hymns, Rock of Ages:

Not the labor of my hands
Can fulfill Thy laws demands
Could my zeal no respite know
Could my tears forever flow
All for sin could not atone
Thou must save and Thou alone!

Nothing in my hand I bring
Simply to Thy Cross I cling
Naked, come to Thee for dress
Helpless, look to Thee for grace
Foul, I to the Fountain fly
Wash me Savior, or I die!