An open letter to my 5 month old.

Dear Bo,

Today, you are five months old.  It has been almost half a year since I first laid eyes on you.

Gratuitous newborn photo.

In many ways, you look exactly the same.  {You'll always be my baby.}  At the same time, you're filling out.  You're developing facial expressions.  You're becoming more and more handsome.  {You'll still always be my baby.}

You've pretty much mastered rolling over from front to back.  Back to front is more difficult - or you're less interested.  {I'm not sure which.}  

You are much more interested in the world.  You're constantly looking around. You discovered Gus Dog.  He's happy that you finally petted him - even if you pulled his fur and accidentally poked him in the eye.  You love having your brother and sister here.  Des thinks you're the cutest thing ever.  Tyler thinks you're heavy.  You made friends with your cousin Aubrey.  She calls all babies Bo-Bo now.

Cousins are our first friends.

You love your feet.  You hate socks.  You're stubborn like your mama persistent. 

You've really found your voice.  You talk.  A lot.  Like your daddy.  I love your gurgles.  It reminds me of that night 5 months ago - the first thing I heard when you were born was a gurgle.  It terrified me - but you were perfect.

Last gratuitous newborn photo.

Okay, Okay - Back to now.  You sound like a baby wookie. {Still cute.}

As of tonight, I noticed you really putting weight on your feet.  You put your feet down in my lap and pushed yourself up.  I downloaded a Fisher Price app for you on my phone.  It has lots of animals.  You touch the screen to make them change and you smile.  Our favorite is the bear.  He is really funny.

You have finally started taking an interest in our food.  I let you drink water out of my cup, and now you're insatiable.  We plan to start you on oatmeal on Saturday.  You're currently hovering around the 5th percentile for weight {95% of babies weigh more than you at your age.}  You're just above the 50th percentile for height, though!  The doctor calls you lean and mean.

You saw your first snow.

You like going to church.  The ladies there love on you a lot.  Plus, they have this thing.

Can't blame you. I'd sit in one if I fit.

I promised you that I wouldn't get all mushy mushy on you again.  It's just that I want you to have this.  I want you to look back one day and know that every day with you was exciting.  I want you to know that from the beginning, you were smart and funny and determined and handsome and loved.

Always,

Mama

Rocking the winter.

I don't like winter.  Outside of holiday celebrations, it's a bleak time.  There is not enough sunlight.  It's too darn cold.  The days are too short.  It's dark when I leave for work, and it's getting dark again when I get home.  For most of my life, I've been content to hunker down and survive winter.  If hibernation were an option, you'd find me in a cave... and probably furry.

This year, though, I had a bright spot.  There is a tiny baby who isn't fussed about the winter.  His world is exciting and new.  His happiness is contagious.  Because of him, I've soldiered on.  I can't put off my life until spring.

I walked again today.  I'm almost at 4.5 miles for the week.  I headed for the Silver Comet trail at lunch and then took a quick post dinner stroll with the bebe.  

We're cruising towards the weekend now - Journey group tomorrow, a visit from the newly engaged Polly and Jason on Friday evening, and then a birthday party for a dear friend on Saturday.  

Challenge accepted.

I had the joy of having a whole 15 minute conversation with the one and only OneRadMother today.  For once, there was no Bo screaming or Marshall babbling or husbands vying for attention.

She sent me some clothing last week - I love it when she cleans out her closet.  In the box of clothing, there was a fabulous red jacket.  Only recently have I embraced color in my wardrobe, and I am positively dying to wear this coat.  Unfortunately, the COAT OF ONE AMAZING COLOR is too small.

Pregnancy is a funny thing.  I cried when I had to start wearing elastic waist pants, but now?  Seriously - they're just comfy.  Bo will be 5 months old on Thursday, and I think it may be time to retire them.

OneRadMother is somewhat of a workout junkie/gym rat.  In all the time I've known her, she's been that girl.  I think part of it is that she's so dang competitive.  Seriously.  If there is no one to compete with her, she'll compete with herself.  She threw down the gauntlet.  We're going to walk 10 miles this week.  Next week, she'll probably want to bump that up, but she'll drag me across that bridge kicking and screaming when we get there.

I started tonight.  Bo and I walked 2.1 miles.  I took a screenshot of my Runkeeper app and texted it to OneRadMother.  Not quite as good as walking together, but we can motivate each other from opposite sides of the state regardless.

So now - who's coming with us?  Anybody else wanna get in on this?  If there is any response on this, I'll post my before photo in the beautiful red coat here.  You wanna see?  You've gotta walk for it.  I'll text you my numbers and bug you for yours.  What else are friends for?

One more milestone.

Bo has gotten pretty skilled at rolling from his tummy to his back... but he hadn't rolled from his back to his front.  Until last night.

I woke up this morning, and as I always do, before I started getting ready for work, I peeked in on him.  Check his breathing.  I know it's morbid.  I don't know why I do it - I just do.  I'm sure I'm not alone in this.

When I peeked in his room, something was different.  He was face down with one little arm up.  His hand was so cold.  I picked him up and he stretched and then he smiled.  He must have slept well.

Congrats on the milestone kid.  Thanks for the heart attack.

More cuteness than you can possibly stand.

It was an exciting weekend full of adorableness at the Anderson household!  I hope this makes a rainy Monday morning a little brighter for you!

On Saturday night, our friend Ava came to visit.  We played telephones and She-Ra and had so many tea parties that Cameron couldn't take the excitement and "fell asleep". Ava took care of it, though.

Bo has been putting EVERYTHING in his mouth lately - and as of this weekend, that includes my cup.  When I take it away now, he screams like a banshee.  I've created a monster.

I'd love to write more - including some kind of a four month update for my child, but it'll have to come later.  For now, I have to work.  

Oh - and GO FALCONS!  :)

Red Letter Revival

We just got home from the last night of a very powerful revival at Crossview Community Church.  It was 7 nights of awesome preaching and fellowship.  Because I'm still getting up once a night to feed the little one and get up at 5:15 AM for work every morning, by tonight, I was feeling exhausted.

I sort of zombie walked through my day today, yawned all the way to church, and then halfheartedly nodded at everyone that I passed on the way in to the service.  I had the guilty thought that tonight was the last night, and that I'd rest tomorrow.  I'd leave work and head home and I'd crash.  As I was sitting, thinking of all the things I'd do, Nathan Galloway from Cedar Ridge Church began to speak.  

God has spoken, but what are you going to do about it?

It was then that I realized that if I was living right, then I'd be rested after 7 nights at church, because the real work happens when we leave.  

Christianity is exhausting.  It wears you out - and I guess it should.  When you're working at something difficult - or in this case, unattainable - then by the end of the day (or maybe before you even leave the house for work), you're going to be be run down, bone tired, and ready to drop.  

It's easy to glorify Him at church with praise music blaring and a pastor praying over you.  It's easy to glorify Him when you're surrounded by other believers.  It's not so easy once you're out in the world.  

What makes this really hard for me personally is that I want to be the best.  If I can't do something well - if I am not reasonably confident that I'll succeed, I'm probably just not going to do it.  It's the reason that I don't scrapbook or play basketball.  I know on the front end that I'm not going to like the outcome.  

I have to let go of that, though, because I will never - not for 5 minutes on my best day - be good enough to deserve the grace that Christ showered upon us when He died for our sins.  Every morning, I pray that God will help me to be the wife and mother that he wants me to be, and every evening, I pray that He will help me to do better the next day because I never seem to get it right.  

As Christians, we have to get used to failure.  We have to look to Him for the strength to get up and start walking the walk again.  If we constantly strive to walk closer to Him - if we pursue him with vigor in every one of our waking moments, we are going to stay worn out.  

As much as I don't like the sound of it, maybe it's what we need.  We never seem to be as close to Him as we are when we really have to fall on our faces and admit that we just can't do it - that we need him, and then rejuvenated by his grace, forgiveness, and promise of better things to come walk just a little bit closer to Him.

The cuteness slays me.

This weekend, Uncle Kevin came to visit and I tried to cut off my finger chopping carrots.  The two things are fairly unrelated, but highlights nonetheless.

There was cleaning and couponing and... napping.  There was a glorious Sunday afternoon nap.  I haven't napped like that since... I have no idea.  It was good.

And now - it's a Monday.  There's much work to be done, but I had to take just a minute and share a little cuteness with you.  Enjoy!

Twenty-12

It was an interesting year for sure.

I was pregnant for most of it.  It was one of the hottest summers of my life.  I'm blessed to have awesome family and friends.

Hubs got attacked by some bees.  It's unreal how many hits that post got. Maybe the blog would be more popular if I start a weekly feature of Hubs getting hurt.  (Seriously, there's something wrong with you people.  Get help. Or go watch America's Funniest Home Videos.  Someone's always getting hit with a bat there.)

I started a blog, and joined the world of IPhones.

None of it really shines until the day Bo joined our family.

Since then, it's been an explosion of milestones, pictures, and gushing about how I just can't get enough of him.

Hubs and I celebrated our one year anniversary.  No clue where that cake topper is.

Looking back through the blog has reminded me why I do what I do.

I should blog more.  Here's hoping for Twenty-13.

  

2013: Just Do It.

Yeah.   Right.

You know what I'm going to do in the New Year?  I'm going to keep going. I'm going to make progress.  I'm going to set goals, and I'm going to accomplish them, because I'm just not going to quit.  

I love New Years.  I love fresh starts.  I love new opportunities and planning and then when it comes to following through, I just don't.  As soon as I fall short of perfection, I fall apart.  

My husband is an incredibly pragmatic person.  He sees a problem; he analyzes the problem; he tells you how to fix the problem.  Everything with him is very black and white.  

     Me: I think I'm going to go back to couponing.  We could save a lot of money!

     Hubs: GREAT!  *hands me the scissors*

     Me: Whoa, whoa, whoa.  First I have to plan.  I need to find a new binder and get my hole puncher and research the BEST couponing websites and download a few new apps and collect EVERYSALEPAPEREVERPRINTED. 

{{I spend a month and a half collecting circulars and unclipped coupons and stashing them in a corner of our living room in a pile that I swear to myself and to hubs is organized, but we both know I'm lying.  I stress over the mess and the guilt of not following through.}}

     Hubs: *eyeing the towering pile*  So - about this couponing thing...

     Me: I'm getting to it!!! GET OFF MY BACK! 

In another couple of months, all the coupons that I collected have expired, and I throw the entire pile away.  Not to worry, though!  In another month or so, I'll decide to try again.

You know what my problem is?  I should have taken the scissors when he first handed them to me, clipped a Tide coupon and run out to the store to pick up the detergent that we needed.

And this year, that's what I'm going to do.  This year is not about perfection or being the best at everything.  This year is about not making excuses.  This year, I'm going to mess up, but I'm not going to give up.  This year is about doing it.