Friday, December 31, 2004

C.B.C.L. Anonymous

C.B.C.L. Anonymous ... the new support group I'm starting. I don't know, maybe it's more like a social club. Chocolate Bliss Cookie Lovers Anonymous is what it is!

That's right. My name is Lesa and I'm a chocolate bliss cookie addict. Chocoholic. Blissoholic. Cookieholic. I'm hooked!

Okay Deana Nall ... I'm outing you too. Deana was my original "dealer". (Although I'm not sure if she is a user as well.) She brought a batch to my Christmas party this year. I had sweet, blissful dreams that night.

I was so concerned! I wondered how many parties I would have to throw so she could bring more? I wondered if it would seem odd to call her up to see if she had any just sitting around? (In other words I wanted to know if she had a "stash"?) I thought I could offer to pay her for them. We could even meet somewhere to make the swap; or is it a drop? A parking lot perhaps or maybe a dark alley.

Thankfully I quickly learned the tricks of her trade. I found the recipe and actually had success in creating my own. I have my own "cookie house" where I can be the dealer now. I can search for poor, unsuspecting closet addicts and reel 'em in hook, line, and sinker.

Funny how sinister you can make something with BLISS in the title sound!

On a more serious note though I've really been proud of myself in spite of this new found "crush". I've been applying Weigh Down Workshop principles to my eating for a few weeks now and God is really working on me. (Even with C.B.C.'s in the house.)

I did have a funny moment earlier this evening though. I was heading for bed and realized I had not put up today's freshly baked "inventory". (That's cookies.) I started placing them in storage containers (no, not baggies) and got a little chocolate on my finger.

Now, I had already resigned myself to no more food tonight until I felt hunger pangs. I was still full from dinner and didn't require any more food. Well, have you ever seen "Finding Nemo"? Are you familiar with the scene where the shark gets a little whiff of blood and goes bezerk?

When I tasted that chocolate from the quick little swipe I gave my finger I swear I felt like that shark! I mean that whole scene immediately came to mind. I stuffed those cookies in those tubs and I bolted from the kitchen with great resolve to "stay clean and sober". Oh, but it was tough.

I'm trying hard to seek comfort in my Heavenly Father. Sometimes I forget what an incredible comforter He is. I've been so sick this week and I have really wanted to turn to food but I'm finally putting all the pieces together with a little help from above. Food is not the answer ... even if it does take the form of C.B.C.'s.

I started reading, "The Purpose Driven Life" by Rick Warren yesterday. It was the "perfect gift" from my little sister Kara this Christmas. In two days it has already started to turn my thinking around and I think that's so cool! I'm hard-headed and stubborn so it's a bit more like a miracle!

So I'll take it one day at a time, one cookie at a time if I have too. A transformation now will only bring healing and heaps of blessings. I know He's cheering for me. I don't know if I had looked at it that way before today. He's a cheerleader too. That's kind of cool.

And I'll have to "journal my journey" through this book here on my blog. I think I'm in for quite a ride. Luckily I know the driver or I'm at least getting to know Him. He makes pit stops when needed and even handles most of the maintenance. He'll keep the engine tuned and purring and I'll trust Him to take care of it all. After all, He's still working on me! - Lesa

"Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than going to McDonald's makes you a hamburger."
- Author Unknown

Monday, December 20, 2004

What Child is This?

I've been looking for titles of Christmas songs that would fit or could be finagled into the title of a post. This one sounded good today.

Will cries ... a lot. I have a policy about not letting a newborn cry for more than 10-15 minutes at a time. So, I don't get much done on the days when he cries. And those days far outnumber the quieter ones.

I was prepared for the lack of sleep a newborn brings. Actually, I wasn't as prepared as I thought. With Trini I could nap during the day when she was sleeping. You can't do that with a second child because the older one is there. However, the loss of sleep really hasn't been that bad.

The days it hits the hardest are the days filled with tears. (Which happen to be the days he cries too.) (Did you catch that?) Those days are rough. I'm surprised Trini, our dogs and myself haven't formed some kind of "gone crazy secret cult".

Actually, I think the two bigger dogs are terrorizing one of the neighbors dogs through the fence in the backyard. I saw Simba looking through a hole in the fence the other day and he just seemed to be plotting something big. But that's another story ...

What child is this? I was not prepared for the crying. Maybe I just never put Trinity down that much because I didn't have another child to take care of. Maybe I didn't have anything else in the world to do. Something tells me that's not it though.

Some days he just cries. He's fed, well fed I might add. He's freshly changed. He's been de-gasified with mylicon drops. He's swaddled up which still seems to make him very happy. There seems to be no reason for the tears. Sometimes even being held doesn't silence him. Nursing always does though. Luckily we've never had a spell that nursing wouldn't calm.

Lately he has been sleeping better at night. And, a recent development is him sleeping in his room. He's still in his carseat most of the time but he has made it to his room. I don't know how I feel about that. He's only three months old. I think I still have the need to keep him close. His needs are above mine, but I have to know as well that he doesn't need to be close to me. I'm not convinced of that yet.

He does end up in his swing in our room sometime during the night. And I always sleep a little better knowing he's nearby. He's my miracle, my gift from God. Tears or not I absolutely adore him and I am so thankful to have a son.

So I'll keep putting off all those daunting household tasks and errands and forward items in my planner to days ahead. I'll hold him when he needs it and comfort him when he cries. And when I complain I'll remember that I chose motherhood and God granted me the greatest blessing on earth. I know I'll forget on those most challenging days, but God will keep me in check. He has a way of doing that. After all, He's still working on me. - Lesa

"Mother love is the fuel that enables a normal human being to do the impossible."
- Marion C. Garretty

Thursday, December 16, 2004

Childbirth: Pain vs. Brutality

My son is 3 months old now. Gone are a lot of the pains of his birth, but there are some scars, unseen, that remain still.

Getting stuck twice for blood tests, twice for an IV, and twice for an epiduryl all in one morning is painful. Not being able to hold your tiny, newborn son is brutal.

Having adhesive tape remove every little hair on your arm along with some skin is painful. Hearing a baby cry in the hospital room next to yours while your baby is hooked up to a machine on the other side of the hospital is brutal.

Walking around with an incision across your tummy, feeling like a vital organ or two will surely fall out is painful. Watching another mother being discharged with a blue bundle in her arms as you are leaving empty handed is brutal.

Getting into a vehicle after having a C-section is painful. Looking back at the hospital while driving away in a vehicle with an empty carseat, knowing you will be miles away from your baby that came to this place inside of you; that is brutal.

There are some things that are as fresh in my mind as they were 3 months ago. In the big picture we were very lucky. Will could have had so many other complications. He could have been one of those tiny beings that were in the NICU for months on end. But that one week he was there, my life stood still. The world stopped turning.

His first five days of life were in solitude without the comfort and warmth of my arms. His first nourishment wasn't found snuggled up to me but so very coldly through a plastic tube. His room, crib, swing, and bassinet stood empty for three days we were home without him.

It was a lesson in patience and humility. I am not the driver on this road of life even though I sure can manage to muck things up with my backseat driving skills. God's mercy is faithful and His ways are mysterious. I'm forever changed by all that we endured.

I'm sure now and then I'll forget who's in control. I'll try to take over as I do too often in my life with other things. But He'll remind me, gently or firmly, whichever is needed. His reminders are necessary and I will wise up eventually. After all, He's still working on me. - Lesa

"The stars are always shining but often we do not see them until the dark hours." - Earl Riney

Friday, December 03, 2004

Jungle Bells

That's right! No typo! It's a jungle around here. All day long I hear screeches that can be mistaken for any number of jungle animals. I hear monkeys for sure. Panthers or cheetahs join in. I could have sworn I heard some sort of elephant call today too. Between a newborn who cries more than anything else and a 3 year old with a very vivid imagination, you never know what you'll hear around these parts. No jingles lately.

In the past I was always so prepared for the holidays and for Christmas in particular. This year I had all of my Christmas cards addressed by the end of August. Okay, so as I mentioned in a previous post I was on bedrest for several weeks before our son was born. But truthfully I had planned to get that done ahead of time because I knew this year would be busier than usual. Or at least more of my time would be devoted to a new baby and keeping his big sister from going postal from the lack of attention.

Well, here I am, warts and all. I never feel like I give him or her enough time. Poor hubby gets even less attention. (I surely hope he doesn't begin sucking his thumb and crying when he wants to be held.) And my house resembles more of a warzone today than a Winter Wonderland.

I can't seem to find a place for everything anymore. We did bring only one child home from the hospital, right? I feel like I wander around all day long trying to figure out where to start. I find myself pondering things such as ... to put decorations out that are on the coffee table, I'd have to find a home for the dense fog of items on my kitchen counter. And some of those things are projects in the works, but not ones that need to be finished before the one on my craft table. And well, my craft table has acquired a few new items of its own. Some of which need to go on the coffee table. Wait, where was I again?

This has all taken 10-15 minutes which is about the baby's max on remaining quiet in any one given location. So by the time I quiet him down and try to get back to the task at hand, the task is lost ... out to sea in an ocean of homeless items that clutter my home and in turn my mind!

I washed a load of dishes today. And a load of clothes. Both children and myself were dressed. Well, one child insisted that remaining in her princess nightgown for the ball she was going to counted as "being dressed". It seemed logical to me so she remained in it all day. My house and endless projects keep beckoning and I suppose I'll get to it all someday. Or at least some of it all day. Wait, where was I again?

I did snuggle with Trinity today. And I napped while Will had his hourly snack and wiggled in my arms. And I read The Little Mermaid for the 811th time ... and did the voices and sound effects. Guess I did okay after all. And tomorrow will be better. After all, He's still working on me! - Lesa

"If a cluttered desk is the sign of a cluttered mind, what's an empty desk the sign of?" - Joe Bayly