Lunch, aka the Messiest Meal Ever

Welcome to our kitchen table. Micah has entered a lovely little independent stage of toddlerhood. She wants to do everything herself, including eating. For the most part, it's not a big deal, but today we had spaghetti for lunch, and I knew it was a disaster waiting to happen. So what did I do? Grabbed the camera and turned it into a photo op.

Go ahead, Micah. Shove it in. Why use a spoon when you've got 10 little fingers? She likes holding her spoon and will protest loudly if she's not given one. Sometimes she allows me to help her put food on the spoon and guide it to her mouth, but for the most part, she wants no assistance whatsoever. Inevitably, she gives up on the spoon and uses her hands; they're so much easier to control, you know.

We went straight from the highchair to the bathtub. Nothing a little soap can't fix. Yes, that is a ring of spaghetti sauce in the tub. No, it wasn't there before I bathed her.

All fresh and clean, ready for an afternoon full of play.

Until next time, grace and peace.

Taking Things in Stride, Part Two

So, yesterday was what I like to call a character building experience. Basically, the whole day was an "opportunity" to practice the finer aspects of my character like patience and calmness. In other words, it was one of those days. Sigh. It started out well enough. Even though I have a sick baby, I decided to salvage the day, head to town, and run some errands. The plan was to snatch Micah out of bed after she woke from her morning nap, run up to the local Mexican place for a quick lunch, then drive to Corinth for shopping at Walgreen's, phone perusing at AT&T, a little gift card spending at Kirkland's, and grocery buying at Kroger. By my calculations, we would be able to do all of those things and make it back home just in time for Micah to take her afternoon nap.

What I didn't account for was the faceplant Micah did on the sidewalk between the AT&T store and Kirklands, the bloody mouth that followed, and the emergency trip to the dentist to make sure that her teeth weren't going to fall out of her head. Before you get too worried, I'll go ahead and tell you that everything's fine. She probably just scraped her gums (ouch!) on the concrete, hence all the blood, but her teeth were fine.

Since Dennis met us at the dentist's office, we decided to make the Kroger run a family trip. We loaded up the cart, got all our coupons ready, checked out and headed to the car to load the groceries in Polly's (that's the Honda's name) trunk. Except I couldn't find my keys. A sinking feeling washed over me, and I peered through the back window. There they were. Right next to Micah's carseat. Anyone else ever been there?

Thankfully, we had both cars there, so Dennis loaded the groceries into his vehicle, drove the 30 minutes home to Iuka, put away the refrigerated groceries, retrieved the spare keys, and drove 30 minutes back to Corinth, during which time, Micah and I slowly wandered up and down the aisles of Kroger again.

She was exhausted by the time we made it home, as was I. What day, y'all. Are there any remaining doubts that God's trying to teach me how to take things in stride? It's times like this that I would like to throw my hands up in the air and shout, "Lesson learned, God!" But I know that won't work. It won't be over til it's over.

Yesterday was a day full of mishaps, but we all survived, and I think I did a pretty good job of keeping calm and moving on. Wonder what God's gonna throw at me next.

Until next time, grace and peace.

A Sick Baby

Welp, when I told you that God was going to work on me about taking things in stride, I wasn't kidding. Last week, with Micah at my parents' house, I managed to complete two major writing assignments, fill a slew of etsy orders, straighten up the house, tackle a pile of laundry and, wait for it, sweep and mop the kitchen floor. Exciting, I know.

Life around here had been restored to order.

And then we picked Micah up, and she had a nasty little cough that has only gotten worse since then. Dennis took her to the doctor Sunday morning (yes, our pediatrician is open), and although he didn't say the word out loud to Dennis, on our copy of her chart, he checked the box next to bronchitis. My poor baby sounds like she's going to puke up her guts every time she coughs. It's awful.

Apparently, as the medicine does its work and loosens up all the gunk in her chest, it will get worse, which is no fun. I'm actually hoping that she throws up soon just to get some of it out of her system.

All of that to say, when God wants to work on something with you, he doesn't play around. If it's not one thing, it's another.

Micah's handling it better than I am, I think. I feel so badly for her when the coughs rack her body hard enough to throw her down. But it hasn't really slowed her down. She coughs and gags a few times, then she goes back to playing. She's a livewire, I tell you.

Anyway, if you're the praying type, we would greatly appreciate your prayers for our little girl.

Until next time, grace and peace.