Legacy

I like a song with great lyrics. Songs that can come to life are the best ones- the ones that speak to your heart. It's not a secret that I like songs that you can sing along to, but when they actually have a meaning, it's all the better. However, I'll admit that I have sung "baby hit me one more time" more than my share. Anyway...

The song "Legacy" by Nichole Nordeman will make you think about your life and it's direction. Having children will change the way you view yourself and how you view the world. This song definitely makes me think of where I'm going and how Benjamin is helping me get there. Several of these lyrics are paraphrased and they are how I fit them into my life.

What kind of Mother do I want to be? I want to be one that leaves a legacy.

How will he remember me?

Did I point to God enough to make a mark on things? I want to leave an offering.

Will he be a child of mercy and grace who blesses God's name unapologetically?

Am I leaving that kind of legacy?

You could take my picture and hang it in a gallery of all who's who and so-n-so's that used to be the best at such-n-such, but would it really matter if I didn't leave a legacy?

In the end, I'd like to hang my hat on something more than the temporary trappings of this world.


One day, if somebody asks Benjamin to describe his mother, I'd like him to say, "One that always put her family first... one that left a legacy."

continuous travel

I was browsing through some of my pictures on Facebook, and I saw my house and didn't realize it was mine. That's how long we've been gone! Not really, but it feels that way sometimes. In all honesty, I just didn't recognize the floor in one picture. It is still somewhat new to us, afterall.

We're in Indy now for the next two weeks and it should be a fun time. Bp is doing well and continues to make me smile. He had quite a nice conversation with the other little boy today sitting next to us at the breakfast restaurant. Benjamin is quite vocal to say the least. The other boy didn't say a word and sat there with an interesting look on his face...almost as if he thought bp was some sort of alien. I for once want to be in a restaurant where another child is louder than Benjamin. It makes me wonder why some kids are quiet and others are loud. We're not loud people, so why would we produce a loud child? Do loud people produce quiet children? Hmm, perhaps someone should do a case study on this and get back to me.

*I* want to be the parent of the good, seemingly quiet child at a restaurant sometime. Of course, what then would I smile at? Who really wants a dull kid?

Maybe just a dull kid in a restaurant would be okay every now and then.

Athens, hurray!

So yesterday I dropped my baby sister off to the University of Georgia. This is her second year there and she was WAY beyond excited about going back. Almost a bit too much for our parents' sake if you ask me, but what can you tell an 18 year old? Oh well, we still love her.

My parents kept bp (the p is for Parker) for the day-turned-in-to-night-trip and apparently he was an "angel". How could this be? Where is this angel during the days I am with him?? Still amazes me how this could be the truth. This is the same child who screams when I walk out the door, but is strangely perfect for hours on end ten minutes later. Somebody should write a book about what all babysitters/grandparents do to our children to make them behave, because it's obvious that we as all parents are just doing it wrong.

Or perhaps our children are just spoiled? Yes, that's the ticket.

Oh well, he'll have the rest of his adult life to overcome the mistakes that Warren and I make. Aren't we all doing just that? This of course is a rhetorical question because my parents are perfect. :)

Hurricane Benjamin

To say that today has been destructive is an understatement, and it's only 12pm. As mentioned earlier, Benjamin and I are staying with my parents in Georgia. This house has not had a baby in it's presence for any length of time in about... oh... 50 years. So, needless to say, Benjamin has had quite an affect on many of the furnishings. We like to call him Hurricane Benjamin.

1. The grandfather clock which was one of the many possessions my parents inherited when moving in this house, has a section on the bottom which is made of this woven cotton feeling material. Apparently, this is a perfect spot in which to poke your finger through if you are 18 months old. Interestingly, Benjamin has this condition in which once he makes a hole in something, he is required to make it irreparable. Warren calls this condition "baby crack". (Have I ever mentioned how funny my husband is? Well, he is. Another story perhaps.)

2. When I am here alone, I am forced to drag Benjamin in the bathroom with me when I take a bath. So we're in there and I'm washing my hair, and I hear the sound of tile falling from the countertop. There are these tiles that are sort of hanging from the top of the countertop. They are about 1/2 inch long and are only meant for decoration. Anyway, so one of them falls and Benjamin of course has to investigate immediately. I can see his mind racing at this point (I'm across the room mind you. This bathroom is huge.) and he snatches several more of them down before I can get out dripping wet to stop him. My only fear is that he will continue to try to pull more them all down every time we go in there. Good times.

So this is more than enough destruction for one day.

Mark Harris

I think this song is a dedication from all mothers to their children. I absolutely adore it. I can see myself 20 years from now when Benjamin is grown and me still crying listening to it thinking he's a baby. It makes me tear up now just listening to it.


Mark Harris: Find Your Wings.

It's only for a moment you are mine to hold
The plans that heaven has for you
Will all too soon unfold
So many different prayers I'll pray
For all that you might do But most of all I'll want to know
You're walking in the truth
And If I never told you
I want you to know
As I watch you grow

Chorus: I pray that God would fill your heart with dreams
And that faith gives you the courage
To dare to do great things
I'm here for you whatever this life brings
So let my love give you roots
And help you find your wings

May passion be the wind
That leads you through your days
And may conviction keep you strong
Guide you on your way
May there be many moments
That make your life so sweet
Oh, but more than memories

Chorus: It's not living if you don't reach for the sky
I'll have tears as you take off
But I'll cheer as you fly

amoxicillin

I have to share my experience with this so-called wonder drug that all doctors from here to India give all children with any form of bacterial infection: amoxicillin.

Sunday: A couple of week ago, poor Benjamin wakes up at 4am on our big day to see very-pregnant Beth with a fever of 102. (To be honest, my first thought was, "Please God, not another stomach virus. I just can't live through another day/night of hotdog all over me.) Of course this was a Sunday because ALL children get sick on the weekends when it's next to impossible to see a doctor for a routine sickness.

Monday: We go and see a doctor here in town and they give the wonder drug amoxicillin for his ear infection. Yes, I did forget to mention that that's all it was, so thank you God for keeping the hotdogs in his tummy and not all over mine.

Tuesday: Happy baby! All was proclaimed well and our trip was rescheduled for the next day. We went to eat mexican partly to celebrate this event and partly because I will turn into a Gremlin if I go longer than a week without cheese dip. No idea why, this is just part of my life that we all have to deal with. So lunch was a fun trip and I even have a picture of this delicious dip all over Benjamin to prove how much fun we had. Thirty minutes after lunch, Benjamin starts grunting and crying uncontrollably and quite frankly scared the beejesus out of me. He was turning red and getting on all fours like an animal and rocking back and forth. REALLY weird. Mom came home from work because I was frantic and called the paramedics because we were concerned he was having trouble breathing. They get here and in not so many words call me crazy because he calmed down a bit by then and almost fell asleep. Now, I know my child and this was not any sort of behavior that was remotely normal, but yet they continued to look at me as if I were the ignorant "new mom". Oh well, I'm just glad that all it turned out to be was a "stomachache" from the cheese dip. (I can't even tell you how many times he's had cheese dip.) We call the Dr who saw him and she recommended that we "cut down on milk and all dairy". The problem with this is that Benjamin loves milk. It was a bad night, I tell ya.

Wednesday: Benjamin is now drinking Lactaid (which btw he is still on and it is working quite nicely) and has mysterious looking bumps on the back of his neck. I thought it was from the tag on his new shirt. About ten minutes later, the bumps were all over his chest, back, and creeping in on his face. He appears healthy otherwise. I of course immediately thought it was from the medicine and read the side affects and "severe stomachache" and "rash" were two of the most awful ones listed and "discontinue drug" posted right beside it if problems arise. What the heck was this doctor thinking? Stomachache from the cheese dip my ***.

We went to the ER and he was placed on a different antibiotic for his ear infection, which had almost cleared up completely by this point, and he has been happy ever since. Doctors sometimes really should listen to parents a little more closely.

This is sooooo not the first time that I knew something was wrong with my child and I was labeled a "new mom".