Happy New Year!

We ordered Chinese food and watched "Grown Ups." We are exciting people...

I am definitely looking forward to this year! It is going to be challenging but rewarding. It will have it's ups and downs and ins and outs yet, it will be beautiful. When I wake up tomorrow it will be here. The new year. A fresh start.

Oh, how I feel I need it sometimes!

Hustle and Bustle

I'm sitting here getting ready to wrap Christmas gifts and I think "ugh, why didn't I start this earlier?" That thought led me to "it's interesting how everyone wants to get everything done early so they can relax and enjoy the holiday." My question is what does that really mean?

To me, the shopping and baking and cooking and wrapping and decorating IS enjoying the holidays! It's the hustle and bustle of it all that makes it so exciting. As we get older we tend to get cynical and "damn commercialism" about Christmas. Is it all a part of losing our innocence and naivety (thanks Uncle Lloyd for such a great word) with age? Am I saying that I have not fallen victim to this harsh cynicism myself? By no means! Christmas definitely loses some of that magic to it as we get older but so do a lot of things in life! If we happen to lose a tooth when we're 30 we're not going to be excited to find a quarter under our pillow - we'll complain about the dentist bill! When the power goes out for hours on end it's not eerie and mystical - it's annoying! We worry about spoiled food, not having any electricity to cook food, no heat, etc. We learn a sense of responsibility with age. The same goes for Christmas. It becomes more of a responsibility than an event to take part in. When we get married, have our own children, and our own homes, it falls on our shoulders to create the magic of Christmas.

So in the hustle and bustle of cooking and baking and cleaning and shopping and wrapping and hosting we should stop and think how all that we're doing is shaping Christmas in the eyes of the next generation. My chocolate peanut butter balls bring joy to my brothers, so I make them (as tedious as they are.) I wrap every single gift, even after a long hard day at work and proceeding to take care of my son. I do it because it fosters an atmosphere of contentment and warmth. It brings Christmas to my home.

And I enjoy it!

A Child's Christmas in Wales

This poem/story has always been one that my dad loves. I remember it as something he wanted to watch when I was younger but it always seemed somewhat "boring" to me. Now that I am older I have fallen in love with it! I bought the movie myself last year and am enjoying it now as I write this. It will always be one that makes me think of my dad. One that we share together. It is long but well worth the read!

A CHILD'S CHRISTMAS IN WALES

One Christmas was so much like another, in those years around the sea-town corner now and out of all sound except the distant speaking of the voices I sometimes hear a moment before sleep, that I can never remember whether it snowed for six days and six nights when I was twelve or whether it snowed for twelve days and twelve nights when I was six.

All the Christmases roll down toward the two-tongued sea, like a cold and headlong moon bundling down the sky that was our street; and they stop at the rim of the ice-edged fish-freezing waves, and I plunge my hands in the snow and bring out whatever I can find. In goes my hand into that wool-white bell-tongued ball of holidays resting at the rim of the carol-singing sea, and out come Mrs. Prothero and the firemen.

It was on the afternoon of the Christmas Eve, and I was in Mrs. Prothero's garden, waiting for cats, with her son Jim. It was snowing. It was always snowing at Christmas. December, in my memory, is white as Lapland, though there were no reindeers. But there were cats. Patient, cold and callous, our hands wrapped in socks, we waited to snowball the cats. Sleek and long as jaguars and horrible-whiskered, spitting and snarling, they would slink and sidle over the white back-garden walls, and the lynx-eyed hunters, Jim and I, fur-capped and moccasined trappers from Hudson Bay, off Mumbles Road, would hurl our deadly snowballs at the green of their eyes. The wise cats never appeared.

We were so still, Eskimo-footed arctic marksmen in the muffling silence of the eternal snows - eternal, ever since Wednesday - that we never heard Mrs. Prothero's first cry from her igloo at the bottom of the garden. Or, if we heard it at all, it was, to us, like the far-off challenge of our enemy and prey, the neighbor's polar cat. But soon the voice grew louder.

"Fire!" cried Mrs. Prothero, and she beat the dinner-gong.

And we ran down the garden, with the snowballs in our arms, toward the house; and smoke, indeed, was pouring out of the dining-room, and the gong was bombilating, and Mrs. Prothero was announcing ruin like a town crier in Pompeii. This was better than all the cats in Wales standing on the wall in a row. We bounded into the house, laden with snowballs, and stopped at the open door of the smoke-filled room.

Something was burning all right; perhaps it was Mr. Prothero, who always slept there after midday dinner with a newspaper over his face. But he was standing in the middle of the room, saying, "A fine Christmas!" and smacking at the smoke with a slipper.

"Call the fire brigade," cried Mrs. Prothero as she beat the gong. "There won't be there," said Mr. Prothero, "it's Christmas."

There was no fire to be seen, only clouds of smoke and Mr. Prothero standing in the middle of them, waving his slipper as though he were conducting.

"Do something," he said. And we threw all our snowballs into the smoke - I think we missed Mr. Prothero - and ran out of the house to the telephone box.

"Let's call the police as well," Jim said. "And the ambulance." "And Ernie Jenkins, he likes fires."

But we only called the fire brigade, and soon the fire engine came and three tall men in helmets brought a hose into the house and Mr. Prothero got out just in time before they turned it on. Nobody could have had a noisier Christmas Eve. And when the firemen turned off the hose and were standing in the wet, smoky room, Jim's Aunt, Miss. Prothero, came downstairs and peered in at them. Jim and I waited, very quietly, to hear what she would say to them. She said the right thing, always. She looked at the three tall firemen in their shining helmets, standing among the smoke and cinders and dissolving snowballs, and she said, "Would you like anything to read?"

Years and years ago, when I was a boy, when there were wolves in Wales, and birds the color of red-flannel petticoats whisked past the harp-shaped hills, when we sang and wallowed all night and day in caves that smelt like Sunday afternoons in damp front farmhouse parlors, and we chased, with the jawbones of deacons, the English and the bears, before the motor car, before the wheel, before the duchess-faced horse, when we rode the daft and happy hills bareback, it snowed and it snowed. But here a small boy says: "It snowed last year, too. I made a snowman and my brother knocked it down and I knocked my brother down and then we had tea."

"But that was not the same snow," I say. "Our snow was not only shaken from white wash buckets down the sky, it came shawling out of the ground and swam and drifted out of the arms and hands and bodies of the trees; snow grew overnight on the roofs of the houses like a pure and grandfather moss, minutely -ivied the walls and settled on the postman, opening the gate, like a dumb, numb thunder-storm of white, torn Christmas cards."

"Were there postmen then, too?"

"With sprinkling eyes and wind-cherried noses, on spread, frozen feet they crunched up to the doors and mittened on them manfully. But all that the children could hear was a ringing of bells."

"You mean that the postman went rat-a-tat-tat and the doors rang?"

"I mean that the bells the children could hear were inside them."

"I only hear thunder sometimes, never bells."

"There were church bells, too."

"Inside them?"

"No, no, no, in the bat-black, snow-white belfries, tugged by bishops and storks. And they rang their tidings over the bandaged town, over the frozen foam of the powder and ice-cream hills, over the crackling sea. It seemed that all the churches boomed for joy under my window; and the weathercocks crew for Christmas, on our fence."

"Get back to the postmen."

"They were just ordinary postmen, found of walking and dogs and Christmas and the snow. They knocked on the doors with blue knuckles ...."

"Ours has got a black knocker...."

"And then they stood on the white Welcome mat in the little, drifted porches and huffed and puffed, making ghosts with their breath, and jogged from foot to foot like small boys wanting to go out."

"And then the presents?"

"And then the Presents, after the Christmas box. And the cold postman, with a rose on his button-nose, tingled down the tea-tray-slithered run of the chilly glinting hill. He went in his ice-bound boots like a man on fishmonger's slabs. "He wagged his bag like a frozen camel's hump, dizzily turned the corner on one foot, and, by God, he was gone."

"Get back to the Presents."

"There were the Useful Presents: engulfing mufflers of the old coach days, and mittens made for giant sloths; zebra scarfs of a substance like silky gum that could be tug-o'-warred down to the galoshes; blinding tam-o'-shanters like patchwork tea cozies and bunny-suited busbies and balaclavas for victims of head-shrinking tribes; from aunts who always wore wool next to the skin there were mustached and rasping vests that made you wonder why the aunts had any skin left at all; and once I had a little crocheted nose bag from an aunt now, alas, no longer whinnying with us. And pictureless books in which small boys, though warned with quotations not to, would skate on Farmer Giles' pond and did and drowned; and books that told me everything about the wasp, except why."

"Go on the Useless Presents."

"Bags of moist and many-colored jelly babies and a folded flag and a false nose and a tram-conductor's cap and a machine that punched tickets and rang a bell; never a catapult; once, by mistake that no one could explain, a little hatchet; and a celluloid duck that made, when you pressed it, a most unducklike sound, a mewing moo that an ambitious cat might make who wished to be a cow; and a painting book in which I could make the grass, the trees, the sea and the animals any colour I pleased, and still the dazzling sky-blue sheep are grazing in the red field under the rainbow-billed and pea-green birds. Hardboileds, toffee, fudge and allsorts, crunches, cracknels, humbugs, glaciers, marzipan, and butterwelsh for the Welsh. And troops of bright tin soldiers who, if they could not fight, could always run. And Snakes-and-Families and Happy Ladders. And Easy Hobbi-Games for Little Engineers, complete with instructions. Oh, easy for Leonardo! And a whistle to make the dogs bark to wake up the old man next door to make him beat on the wall with his stick to shake our picture off the wall. And a packet of cigarettes: you put one in your mouth and you stood at the corner of the street and you waited for hours, in vain, for an old lady to scold you for smoking a cigarette, and then with a smirk you ate it. And then it was breakfast under the balloons."

"Were there Uncles like in our house?"

"There are always Uncles at Christmas. The same Uncles. And on Christmas morning, with dog-disturbing whistle and sugar fags, I would scour the swatched town for the news of the little world, and find always a dead bird by the Post Office or by the white deserted swings; perhaps a robin, all but one of his fires out. Men and women wading or scooping back from chapel, with taproom noses and wind-bussed cheeks, all albinos, huddles their stiff black jarring feathers against the irreligious snow. Mistletoe hung from the gas brackets in all the front parlors; there was sherry and walnuts and bottled beer and crackers by the dessertspoons; and cats in their fur-abouts watched the fires; and the high-heaped fire spat, all ready for the chestnuts and the mulling pokers. Some few large men sat in the front parlors, without their collars, Uncles almost certainly, trying their new cigars, holding them out judiciously at arms' length, returning them to their mouths, coughing, then holding them out again as though waiting for the explosion; and some few small aunts, not wanted in the kitchen, nor anywhere else for that matter, sat on the very edge of their chairs, poised and brittle, afraid to break, like faded cups and saucers."

Not many those mornings trod the piling streets: an old man always, fawn-bowlered, yellow-gloved and, at this time of year, with spats of snow, would take his constitutional to the white bowling green and back, as he would take it wet or fire on Christmas Day or Doomsday; sometimes two hale young men, with big pipes blazing, no overcoats and wind blown scarfs, would trudge, unspeaking, down to the forlorn sea, to work up an appetite, to blow away the fumes, who knows, to walk into the waves until nothing of them was left but the two furling smoke clouds of their inextinguishable briars. Then I would be slap-dashing home, the gravy smell of the dinners of others, the bird smell, the brandy, the pudding and mince, coiling up to my nostrils, when out of a snow-clogged side lane would come a boy the spit of myself, with a pink-tipped cigarette and the violet past of a black eye, cocky as a bullfinch, leering all to himself.

I hated him on sight and sound, and would be about to put my dog whistle to my lips and blow him off the face of Christmas when suddenly he, with a violet wink, put his whistle to his lips and blew so stridently, so high, so exquisitely loud, that gobbling faces, their cheeks bulged with goose, would press against their tinsled windows, the whole length of the white echoing street. For dinner we had turkey and blazing pudding, and after dinner the Uncles sat in front of the fire, loosened all buttons, put their large moist hands over their watch chains, groaned a little and slept. Mothers, aunts and sisters scuttled to and fro, bearing tureens. Auntie Bessie, who had already been frightened, twice, by a clock-work mouse, whimpered at the sideboard and had some elderberry wine. The dog was sick. Auntie Dosie had to have three aspirins, but Auntie Hannah, who liked port, stood in the middle of the snowbound back yard, singing like a big-bosomed thrush. I would blow up balloons to see how big they would blow up to; and, when they burst, which they all did, the Uncles jumped and rumbled. In the rich and heavy afternoon, the Uncles breathing like dolphins and the snow descending, I would sit among festoons and Chinese lanterns and nibble dates and try to make a model man-o'-war, following the Instructions for Little Engineers, and produce what might be mistaken for a sea-going tramcar.

Or I would go out, my bright new boots squeaking, into the white world, on to the seaward hill, to call on Jim and Dan and Jack and to pad through the still streets, leaving huge footprints on the hidden pavements.

"I bet people will think there's been hippos."

"What would you do if you saw a hippo coming down our street?"

"I'd go like this, bang! I'd throw him over the railings and roll him down the hill and then I'd tickle him under the ear and he'd wag his tail."

"What would you do if you saw two hippos?"

Iron-flanked and bellowing he-hippos clanked and battered through the scudding snow toward us as we passed Mr. Daniel's house.

"Let's post Mr. Daniel a snow-ball through his letter box."

"Let's write things in the snow."

"Let's write, 'Mr. Daniel looks like a spaniel' all over his lawn."

Or we walked on the white shore. "Can the fishes see it's snowing?"

The silent one-clouded heavens drifted on to the sea. Now we were snow-blind travelers lost on the north hills, and vast dewlapped dogs, with flasks round their necks, ambled and shambled up to us, baying "Excelsior." We returned home through the poor streets where only a few children fumbled with bare red fingers in the wheel-rutted snow and cat-called after us, their voices fading away, as we trudged uphill, into the cries of the dock birds and the hooting of ships out in the whirling bay. And then, at tea the recovered Uncles would be jolly; and the ice cake loomed in the center of the table like a marble grave. Auntie Hannah laced her tea with rum, because it was only once a year.

Bring out the tall tales now that we told by the fire as the gaslight bubbled like a diver. Ghosts whooed like owls in the long nights when I dared not look over my shoulder; animals lurked in the cubbyhole under the stairs and the gas meter ticked. And I remember that we went singing carols once, when there wasn't the shaving of a moon to light the flying streets. At the end of a long road was a drive that led to a large house, and we stumbled up the darkness of the drive that night, each one of us afraid, each one holding a stone in his hand in case, and all of us too brave to say a word. The wind through the trees made noises as of old and unpleasant and maybe webfooted men wheezing in caves. We reached the black bulk of the house.

"What shall we give them? Hark the Herald?"

"No," Jack said, "Good King Wencelas. I'll count three."

One, two three, and we began to sing, our voices high and seemingly distant in the snow-felted darkness round the house that was occupied by nobody we knew. We stood close together, near the dark door. Good King Wencelas looked out On the Feast of Stephen ... And then a small, dry voice, like the voice of someone who has not spoken for a long time, joined our singing: a small, dry, eggshell voice from the other side of the door: a small dry voice through the keyhole. And when we stopped running we were outside our house; the front room was lovely; balloons floated under the hot-water-bottle-gulping gas; everything was good again and shone over the town.

"Perhaps it was a ghost," Jim said.

"Perhaps it was trolls," Dan said, who was always reading.

"Let's go in and see if there's any jelly left," Jack said. And we did that.

Always on Christmas night there was music. An uncle played the fiddle, a cousin sang "Cherry Ripe," and another uncle sang "Drake's Drum." It was very warm in the little house. Auntie Hannah, who had got on to the parsnip wine, sang a song about Bleeding Hearts and Death, and then another in which she said her heart was like a Bird's Nest; and then everybody laughed again; and then I went to bed. Looking through my bedroom window, out into the moonlight and the unending smoke-colored snow, I could see the lights in the windows of all the other houses on our hill and hear the music rising from them up the long, steady falling night. I turned the gas down, I got into bed. I said some words to the close and holy darkness, and then I slept.

Mourning the Lost

Do you have any of those friendships where you look back and try to pinpoint the exact moment when it started fading away? You wonder "what happened?" I have a few like that. I am also becoming more aware of the fact that as I get older it will not stop or even slow down.

That awareness has made me sad yet somewhat grateful simultaneously.

Sad because friendships are such an integral part of our lives; they shape who we are and who we are yet to become. To lose one of those relationships tears into our souls and urges us to re-examine what we want out of our lives.

Grateful because that re-examination process produces a wiser, more intuitive version of myself. I become keenly aware of what I am looking for in a friendship and what I am willing to offer. I am also grateful because I got to spend however many allotted moments with that person and in some small or big way those moments changed my life. I prefer to think that the changes are good.

I look forward to the coming and going of these life-altering relationships. I will forever mourn the loss of certain friendships over the years but I will not let it interfere with the creation of new ones. I will allow them to influence the new.

For what have I learned from the former if it does not affect the latter?

My Baby Boy is ONE!

Happy Birthday to my sweet, crazy, lovable little rascal of a boy! I love you very much and you make my life brighter every day!

Changes

Tomorrow I start my new job. I'm excited but I'm also nervous and kinda sad. My whole life for the past year has been looking after Paul at home and it's going to be weird not doing that anymore. I know I'll still have days off but it's not the same. I've been a little emotional over it here and there the last few days. It comes out when I least expect it though - 2 in the morning while I'm crawling into bed, while taking a walk with Dan and Paul, tonight on the phone with my mom. I just get choked up. I know it's worth it and we need it, though. We'll settle into a whole new routine as a family. I'm also really excited for Dan - he's looking forward to taking on the role of "Stay at Home Dad." I think he'll do a fantastic job!

I should get to bed. 8-5 tomorrow...

Update

I have a new job!!

I start on Monday as the new full time team leader at a clothing store! I'm SO excited! I had been hoping for the assistant manager position but I think I'll get there one day! My manager said that they're hiring me on in this position with hopes that I will be promoted in the future, whether it's at this store or on of the other banner stores of the company.

This really is a blessing. The moment I let things go and started trusting God, I started feeling at peace about it all and He just placed this opportunity in my lap. I am so grateful!

Starting to Make Some Sense

This past week has been a mix of good and bad. I'll start with the bad.

We have been in a heat wave. Oh ya. Fun. With a capital F. *I don't think sarcasm comes through very well in writing* It has been disgustingly hot! Up to 40 degrees with a humidex of 80-95%! Blah! All I can say is thank goodness for central air! ;-)

The good is I've had a job interview! Two, actually. I emailed my resume to three different places last Wednesday and by Friday I got a call for an interview on Sunday. That went really well and they asked me back for a second one that I had yesterday. I'm REALLY hoping I get it! It's full time, salaried and is the same type of work I was doing before my mat leave. It is a MUCH better company to work for, though. Not all the B.S. I dealt with at my former job. Plus, it's enough pay that Dan would be able to stay home with Paul! He is really excited about that.

So, I've been praying and trusting and praying and trusting...and a little more of both. I'll let you know if I get it - I should know by Tuesday!

Long Time No Talk

I have gotten so bad at updating my blog. I always check all my favorite blogs that others write and when I'm done I look at mine and think "oh, I need to post...but I'm so tired! I'll do it tomorrow." This goes on and on every night until a month or more has passed.

I apologize.

Things have been a little bit stressful in the Wilson household as of late. My maternity leave has ended, no one has signed up for my home daycare, Dan is still looking for a job (no one is calling back...ugh!) so we have no income right now. We do have our child tax credit and baby bonus for Paul but that's it. It's been really frustrating. Today I went in and talked to my old manager about getting my position back (it's still not filled) and she said she would keep me in mind. I'll be handing out more resumes and we're just hoping that one of us will get a job SOON! As in, YESTERDAY!

Other than that, life has been good. We've been attending an awesome church for the last couple months and it has been so refreshing! It is exactly what we need at this time in our lives. We've already made some wonderful friends and have joined a small group.

It's been great to be a part of a family of faith again because I really need God right now. Life really hasn't been going as "planned." Well, as we have planned. On Sunday we had a speaker give his testimony and share how God really took him away from the plans that he had made and showed him that God wanted him to live a life for him; to trust Him. Well, that's what I need to do. Nothing I am doing is working. The plans I have made for my own life have fallen through the cracks. Yet I still choose to believe that I can still make it work; that I can do it better. I can't. I must let go and trust that God will put the pieces together and make my life something beautiful. Something better than I can even imagine!

I find myself being a little more emotional lately. Not just over big things but little things. Today one of my favorite sweaters accidentally went through the dryer and I cried 'cause it shrank about a half inch...yes, I cried about that. A couple days ago I cried because one of my favorite shirts of Paul's got two little stains on it. They are barely noticeable but, nonetheless, I cried. I think it's a build up of stress and anxiety. It's me trying to hold everything together and make it all work, even though it's impossible. It makes me think about those who don't believe in God and don't know/feel that there is Someone who can help them. I've been a Christian since I was about 3 years old and I know that God can carry my burden and will hold my life together for me but I still try and do it on my own. How is it for non-believers? Do they carry this burden around all the time? How does it feel to not know that there is a God who wants to take it from you and ease your load? I'm not trying to sound egotistical and like I have it all figured out, I'm just pondering.

So, that is me right now. I'm working on letting go. I feel this will be a constant battle that will take my whole life to conquer. Any relationship is give and take. If God is willing to take my burden than I should be willing to give it. Why am I so unwilling?

On a completely different subject, Paul is doing very well! He now has 5 teeth and is a little speed racer! He cruises around the furniture, he crawls in the bath, he sleeps unswaddled (he took to that like nobody's business) and is even holding his own bottle! Where has my little baby gone? He is rapidly turning into a little boy! Only 45 more days till he turns 1. Unbelievable. I'm excited for it, though. There is so much life ahead for my little man and I can't wait to watch him grow into who God intends him to be. I see his personality come alive more and more every day and I am just amazed at how wonderful he is. He will one day make friends. My baby boy will learn how to make friends on his own! I know that seems so simple and "duh" but it astonishes me that he will learn this. I'm looking forward to this journey with my son. Every single moment.

Growing Up

My little 9 1/2 month old...almost 10 months! Where has the time gone? Just today my mom and I were saying that 10 months almost seems like a milestone. I joked that 10 months for a baby is like becoming a teenager when they're older! He'll no longer be in the single digits! He's standing up to everything and crawling (on all fours) like there's no tomorrow. Life may be busier but it's also more fun! As much as I would love for him to stay small forever I very much enjoy watching him learn and grow! It just amazes me!

So for now I am soaking up every day, every hour, every minute with my precious baby boy!

Helping mommy clean her closet

Fun in the playpen

Hanging out with mommy and daddy
on the front porch

He'll stand up to anything!

He sure does love his Grandpa!

Grandma has a sweet spot for him!

Getting big!

Fun with yogurt

Day 2

We are on day 2 of no TV during the day. I am loving it! When we first moved into our house we didn't have cable and it was great. Then we started to feel like it might be nice to have it back and we could afford it. Now that Dan is out of work and looking for a new job money is tighter and we are way to hooked on it. So, we're thinking of canceling it again.

Yesterday I got so much done and when I crawled in to bed last night I felt like it was a good, full day. I want more days like that. Last night was a hockey game so we said no TV until 7pm.

I'm thinking of leaving Paul with Dan and going for a walk. Just me alone with my iPod. I need it.

Oh - Paul played in sand for the first time yesterday! He didn't seem to like it at first but he got used to it. Luckily there was only one handful to the mouth...I guess it's a right of passage!

Mother's Day

Tomorrow is my first Mother's Day. That is, my first Mother's Day with Paul outside of me. This year I get to enjoy him and cherish him. I get to hug him, snuggle him and revel in the fact that he is mine.

He is my baby boy. I carried him in my womb for nine months. I was his life line. I provided nourishment to him; warmth and security. He is the perfect mix of Dan and me.

Yesterday Dan asked me if I cared if I got any gifts for Mother's Day or is going out for dinner okay. I told him I don't need anything. I am perfectly honest, too. I know some mothers would be furious if they didn't receive flowers, a card, a gift or all three! I am just looking forward to spending the day with my two favorite guys in the whole wide world. I couldn't ask for anything better. No gift can top that!

*Insert Discontented Sigh Here*

I'm not content right now. I'm not happy with where I am at in my life. Don't get me wrong - I am happy - I am just frustrated with myself and my lack of motivation. I feel like I have no energy. If I eat better and exercise I will have the energy to do the things I want to accomplish but, I feel like I don't have the energy to jump start myself.

I was so tired today. I didn't sleep well last night and Paul was up a couple times...I woke up just wishing I could sleep for 3 more hours! I pretty much did nothing. Honestly. The only thing I accomplished today was calling and setting up a time to see something from a Kijiji ad. Pitiful.

Does somebody want to come over here and slap me in the face? Maybe there is a weight loss group in our new church! I was part of one before at another church and I loved it - gave me so much motivation. If there isn't, maybe I can start one! Hmmm...did God just put that thought in my head? Maybe...just maybe.

On another note I might have a couple kids for daycare starting in June! The woman that cuts Dan's hair mentioned that she was moving into Kingston June 1st (she lives 25 mins away right now) and she needs daycare for her two boys who are 1 and 5! That would be perfect! Please pray about this for me because my Mat Leave is up at the end of May and we need this!

It's time for bed. Well, my book and then bed. I'm so glad I have found a way to incorporate reading back into my days - usually helps me sleep better. It's the best way to get things off your mind before falling asleep. Ah - reading! How I love thee!

Okay, seriously, time for bed.

And Now For Something Completely Different

I need change in my life.

Seriously - I do.

I'm not talking little changes like "should I colour my hair?" or "let's try the bookcase over here," I mean big changes. Here are the things on my list:

1. Start running. I can't be a coward anymore. I want to do it so I just should.

2. Become a vegetarian/vegan. I may take a little longer giving up dairy, but for now I can at least cut out meat. There are some ugly truths about meat that I know yet I still continue to eat it. No more.

3. Cut out junk food. Only treat myself when I feel I truly deserve it (and that doesn't mean once a week.) I want to wait until I really, really want it and then maybe have something. It is doable.

4. Go through the boxes in the basement and only keep what we need. I can't be (too) sentimental otherwise I will get sucked into keeping too much. Not gonna happen.

5. Plan meals and stick to a grocery budget. I have done it before and I can do it again.

6. Less TV and computer and more family time. The weather is beautiful and we have a baby that is very flexible - we need to take advantage of it. Go for walks, go to the park, go for hikes - that is the reason we bought a back-pack carrier for Paul!

So, those are some of the changes I want - no, need - to make. Some of those may be small changes to others but for me they are big. I'm in need of a whole lifestyle change, really. I am also lucky to have a husband who feels the same way and is very supportive. Should I take advantage of that? Heck yes!

I don't intend to necessarily do every single thing at once, but work it all into my every day life. If I just take 10 minutes a day to do something like go through a box in the basement then that's one box taken care of. If I only check the 3 websites I usually do then close the computer and do the dishes then that is one less thing that is piled up at the end of the week! When I do senseless, mind-numbing things all day I also snack more (especially on junk) and I gain weight and don't want to get out to do things (low energy.) I need to fill my days so I'm not stuck in that vicious cycle.

I'll try and blog once a week to let you know how things are going.

The Third Day

*I know it's a little late for Easter, but I wanted to share this song. I have the album "In Christ Alone: Modern Hymns of Worship" by Bethany Dillon and Matt Hammitt. On it is this song and I just love the lyrics. I always like to share a good song when I find it!*

On The Third Day

Verse 1
Creation brings an offering,
As autumn leaves turn to gold,
The trees bow down in highest praise,
Now made bare before Your throne.
The western sky an amber blaze,
At the end of the day,
For everything must die to rise again.

Verse 2
The winter’s chill, a bitter cold,
As sin and shame leave us to fall,
The clouds now full of newborn snow,
For grace to come and save us all,
Within the darkest night of man,
Was found Your saving hand,
For everything must die to rise again.

Chorus 1
On the third day, behold the King,
On the third day, death has no sting,
On the third day, we’re forgiven and reconciled.

Verse 3
The earth it groans in labor pains,
As flowers stretch to heaven above,
Your creatures sing the prophet’s song,
To be a gift of selfless love.
The sun is rising in the east,
And Your spirit is unleashed,
For everything must die to rise again.

Verse 4
And so we wait in joyful hope,
For You to come and take us home,
And so we join beneath the cross,
In suffering from whence we go.
The greatest act of sovereign grace,
In the universe displayed,
For everything must die to rise again.

Chorus 2
On the third day, the saints rejoice,
On the third day, we lift our voice,
On the third day, united and glorified.

Spring is here, the grass is riz...

A House Full of Sickos

This really hasn't been a fun week - at all!

It all started with Paul. He came down with a slight fever last Thursday night and was coughing more than usual throughout the day. His fever was gone within a couple hours and thankfully never returned. By Saturday, though, he was full fledged sick. He was coughing a deep, chesty cough and his nose was running a mile a minute! Our good friends Rachael and Ben came to stay for the weekend and despite Paul being sick we had a great time!

By Sunday night my throat was starting to hurt. I haven't been sick since before I was pregnant - at least a year and a half. By Tuesday I was super congested and starting to cough some. OH, and my upper jaw was killing me! Thursday I went to the doctor's and found out I have a sinus and right ear infection. Picked up antibiotics. The next morning I woke up and my left ear was hurting and completely plugged up. On top of it all I stopped being able to smell or taste anything by Monday night. Just today I was finally able to smell and taste again but it is still not completely back. It comes in waves. I'm starting to get a little better each day. My left ear is still plugged up but the antibiotics seem to be working their magic 'cause my jaw doesn't hurt as much.

Now onto Dan, he is starting to get worse! He's getting more congested and his throat is really bothering him. We've kind of crossed paths - lol! I hope that he doesn't get any worse. He doesn't seem to have an infection like I do, which is good. Paul is still congested and is coughing some but he has a doctor's appointment tomorrow anyway so we'll see if it's something worse or if it's just end of flu stuff.

So, this past week we have done nothing. And I pretty much mean it. Rachael and Ben left us the first few seasons of The Big Bang Theory so we have been enjoying those - twice through! Poor Paul lost me as his fun mommy for two or three days while I was just miserable. I had absolutely no energy and I found it taxing just doing the normal things with Paul. Thankfully Dan wasn't as sick and was a big help those days. He also helped out with the dishes which have piled up over the week. Now it's my turn with them - whoopee! Now we just need to get back to healthy for Easter this coming weekend! We're going to my parents and I really hope that things are pretty much back to normal! I'll be praying!

To end it all, because it's been a while since I updated, I'll leave you with a few pictures!

Me and my baby boy! He's getting too big too fast!

My little goofball!

Spending time with Daddy and Grandpa Peter (Dan's Dad)

Who doesn't love a sleeping baby?

He has been sitting so well on his own!

He's also been creeping his way across the floor -
and the other day he started shuffling along on his little bum!

He loves hanging with Daddy!

My big brown eyed boy!

My favorite!

"Hi Mommy!"