the tree

I used to use only white ornaments to decorate the tree.

It was beautiful.

I scoffed at the idea of little hand made ornaments---perhaps I'd have a second tree hidden in the basement for such things.

Then I had children.

Whose little hands make ornaments.

And the tree takes my breath away.

when do the grown ups arrive?

Last night as I was tucking myself and my teeny baby into bed, my not-so-teeny-baby woke up with a bark and a wheeze.

Croup.

I secured the teeniest.

My husband met me at the top of the stairs. So much for his productive work evening. We were both rushing to calm the seal down the hall.

He was inconsolable and couldn't breathe. I snatched him from his daddy, and instructed him to go and start some HOT water in the bathroom. I grabbed a blanket and threw it around our shoulders and went outside into the cold night air.

GOOD EVENING NEIGHBORS!!

He calmed.

He could breathe.

I could breathe.

We stood out there for as long as I dared...my mind racing....he needs the cold to breathe....I cannot catch a chill or I will get mastitis....he needs to be held....I have a one month old that will need to eat in an hour, or less, or more....where do we go from here?

To the bathroom. Steamy and warm. Not helping.

I pulled the big chair to the window and opened it a crack. Sweet Seal clamored to my shoulder and close to the air that could get into his lungs. Cold. Crisp.

Relax.

Daddy reminds me that I can't handle the cold, and he takes my place. I scurry to the basement and bring up blankets. Lots of blankets. Once they are sufficiently mummified I start googling.

Croup.

How did I know it's croup? How did I know what to do? Was it on TV? Who knows. I was glad for the knowledge. Google told me that I was supposed to do what I did. Thank you Google. I'm a mom, you know. Somewhere along the way I absorbed something useful. Thank goodness I didn't think about Anne of Green Gables and Ipecac.

All night long, daddy and big baby sleep blankets deep in fresh night air.

I snuggle my tiny baby and pray that he stays well. It's agonizing watching a two year old gasp for air. I don't think I can handle it with a newborn.

Today was a long good day. Daddy was able to stay and help. Thank God. There was no doing today alone.

Big baby spends the day in Thomas Jammies watching movies and sleeping on the floor. He seems well now. Moments ago he walked past and said good bye and made for the door. Trying the locks, he said he was going for a walk. "Okay?"

No. It's not okay.

But you're okay.

And now, we're three quarters of the way through bath time. Another day come and gone.

Life just keeps rolling on. Little rest for the weary, but the weary are glad.

It's okay.

chained elephants

I heard the best "sermon" on the radio the other night.

It was about how baby circus elephants are chained to a stake dug deeply in the ground. They pull and pull and pull, then finally give up once they realize that they can't get loose. (That's not the great part.)

As mature elephants, they are still chained to a stake. The stake would never hold them if they tried to pull against it. They just assume that since the chain is there, and the stake is dug, they can't be loosed. So they stay. Chained.

The whole point was that we often believe some kind of lie about ourselves. A lie that keeps us chained. Held back. That if we only tried, we would find that we could be loosed.

I thought about myself. The lies that hold me back. My eating. I'm a good eater and always have been. I buy into the lie that I have no self control, and that I'm an eater and always will be. It's just who I am.

But it's a lie. I don't have to be a huge eater. I can have self control and be whom ever I want to be. No stake can hold me. I'm a huge elephant.