VERY advanced

I think our baby is learning how to whistle...

How are YOU?

I overheard an interesting exchange yesterday when I was paying for purchases at the student store. It went like this:

Cashier - "Hey! How are you doing? What's new with you?"
Customer (whom she obviously knew) - "Oh, not much. How about yourself?"
Cashier - "Oh, I'm fine. And you?"
Customer - "Great. How are you doing?"
Cashier - "Uh...that'll be $6.98. Do you need a bag for that?"

I started laughing a bit. I wondered if they realized that they had each asked the other how they were doing twice and answered the other about how they were doing twice. And I realized that I do the same thing myself. How often do I ask someone how they're doing without listening to (...or maybe even caring) about the response? And how often do I just toss out "fine" as a response without really thinking about if I'm really fine at that moment? I think I want to make it a goal to listen to the answers of others when I ask how they're doing and answer honestly when asked. So test me out next time I see you.

Clarice

Fun with cherries

The other day I was driving home and I stopped next to one of the folks you see in the medians of the roads selling fruit. It was a particularly hot day. She was looking forlorn, and I was craving fruit, so I bought a bag of cherries. It turned out to be a rather unique bag of cherries. There were at least a dozen "special ones" in the bag. Makes you wonder what kind of chemicals the cherries got. We ended up turning it into a Rorshach test of sorts. It was more fun than looking for shapes in the clouds.


We thought the upper left one looked like a cherry with a cucumber...or perhaps a person with a nose like a muppet. The upper middle one looked like it had a jalapeno pepper attached. We also thought the whole thing looked like a bird of some sort. The upper right one was a cherry with a heart on the outside. The lower left was just siamese twin cherries...or a butt. And then there was the one on the lower right.... What do you see?

Clarice

Growing up

Jackson slept through the night last night. Actually, that makes it 4 nights in a row. We put him in his crib between 8:30 and 9:00 PM, turned off the light, and walked away. No crying, no fussing. Just the sound of a thumb being sucked, followed by silent slumber until 7:00 AM, when he woke us up with his morning call and morning smile. I was ecstatic at first. Thank you Babywise!! Continous sleep!!! But now I'm a little sad. Feeding time was my special time with him. And it used to happen 7-9 times a day. Don't get me wrong. I'm not asking for middle of the night awakenings any more, but now he's down to 4-5 feedings. And because I'm back at work now, more than half of those feedings are with a bottle...with Ian. Meanwhile, I feed "the pump." I think I'm also sad because I'm struck with the reality that my baby's growing up. Next thing you know, I'll be doing the mother-son dance with him at his wedding. He's only 3.5 months old and he's already outgrown some of his endearing newborn behaviors. No more mildly squeaking monkey. Now he's a screaming banshee. No more endearingly dependent floppy head. Now he's a bobble head. No more burrowing into our necks to sleep. Now he wants to crane his head around to look at everything. No more pacifier checks every 5 minutes. Now he finds his own thumb. No more startling assplosions to let us know when to change his diaper. Now he stealthily unloads his bowels right before we enter public places, or worse...closed quarters. Everyone talks about how fast they grow up. I just didn't expect to be agreeing with the fact so soon.

Clarice

Jealous Cousin

Jackson met his "cousins" Peanut and Olivia for the first time a few weeks ago. Peanut and Olivia are my brother Randy and sister-in-law Amy's chihuahuas. It was such a fun thing to witness. Jackson has been demonstrating an interest in seeing new things. I don't know what he thought of the dogs, but he kept staring at them.



I think they were rather intrigued with him also. Peanut's always mellow, so he plopped down next to Jackson. Olivia's more hyper, but she paused for a few minutes in her usual romping around to stare at him for a spell.

Peanut and Olivia came back to visit again last week. We couldn't wait to see how Jackson would react again. Turns out Olivia's reaction was more interesting. You see, Olivia's always been a significant center of attention. Randy adopted Peanut from Amy's parents when he was already 9 or 10 years old and slowing down a bit. But Olivia was born into the family and has always been such a comic figure that we've enjoyed countless hours petting her and vying for her attention.

Then came Jackson... The first human grandchild. On this visit last week, Olivia pranced in as she always does, running around in circles, greeting everyone. But not long into the visit, she ran to Amy and hid her face in Amy's neck. Every time we brought Jackson around to get a better view of her, she turned away, refusing to make eye contact with him. Apparently she pouts like this whenever she's not the center of attention. Who knew dogs were like this too. Well at least we've had a preview of sibling rivalry.

Clarice

Spring Onion Squash

I had a really weird dream the other day. I usually don't remember dreams, but this one stayed in my memory after I woke up. The dream started with me somehow being in charge of a bunch of prisoners. Apparently they were low risk prisoners, because the prison looked like a barn, with each inmate housed in a stall in the barn. They were all dressed in street clothes instead of prison garb, so don't ask me how I knew they were prisoners. Then for some reason, I took off all my jewelry and left it on the windowsill of one of the stall/cells because I had to go hang out with the actress Clare Danes, who was working at some kind of cosmetics store. Huh? After hanging out with her, I went back to the barn/prison to check on the inmates and I realized that although my necklace and watch were still there, my engagement and wedding rings were missing. So I yelled at all of the inmates and threatened to feed them food that would make them gassy as punishment (perhaps my subconscious mind sympathizing with my poor little boy boy, who screams as if tortured when he has gas). After interrogating each prisoner, I find my rings, which have simply dropped out of sight near where I originally left them. Then at the end of my shift, I go home and find Ian feeding Jackson his first meal of baby food. I'm a little peeved in my dream, because Jackson is 3 months old and I've read that most parents wait until their babies are 6 months old before starting with semi-solid food. Then I ask Ian what kind of baby food he's feeding the baby. He says that it's spring onion squash. First of all, what is spring onion squash? Does it even exist? Second, who would put onions in baby food? And third, why in the world would I actually remember that? So that's my weird dream. Any dream interpreters out there who can tell me what kind of madness my sleeping mind has cooked up?

Clarice

Grandfathers

Jackson has 4 living grandparents and 1 great-grandmother. We've been trying to figure out what he should call them. We're still trying to figure out the grandmothers, but I think we have some good ideas for the grandfathers.

Ian's dad, John, is from England. Apparently, the preferred name among the Brits is Granda. That didn't stick so well with his 2 other grandsons (who can talk). I started calling him Papa John when Ian and I got married. I think Papa John will stick for Jackson as well.

My dad, Timothy, is from Hong Kong. In Cantonese, the maternal grandfather is called gung-gung (as opposed to yeh-yeh for the paternal grandfather). It works sometimes. But since my father has been so very, very, very active in capturing Jackson's every move in digital form, we think maybe we'll have Jackson call him Papa Razzi.

Clarice

Vegas with infant

Just got back from a 5-day trip to Las Vegas. It was for business, not pleasure. I went to attend an Orthodontist's convention. Since Ian could only come for the weekend, my parents joined me to share in the care of Jackson while I was in lectures. Going to Vegas was a rude awakening for me. I really, truly realized that I'm not single anymore.

I know it may seem a bit belated that this past weekend was when the alarming reality hit the hardest. Yes, I've been married 15 months now. But the first few months were the honeymoon period, the next few were dealing with the shock of getting pregnant, and the rest of the time was focused on preparing for Jackson's arrival and tying up loose ends with work so that both of us could make time to be at home with him. Neither of us really made major changes in how we lived our lives with so many other things to distract us. We were like two single people living together. And, yes, I've been a parent for nearly 3 months now. But since I'm on maternity leave, I haven't yet re-entered the world I'm familiar with. It's like I'm in vacation mode without it being a vacation. Having Jackson to care for is a pleasant, but surreal existence right now.

Going to Las Vegas reminded me that I'm not single anymore. I've been there many times since coming of age. It's familiar, with activities and a lifestyle that seems distinctly associated with my single life in my mind. In Vegas, you can stay up all night, lounge around the pool, and sleep until the sun goes down again. There's the surfeit of buffets to indulge in (and I like eating), a wide range of shows for entertainment, and bright lights and loud sounds to engage the senses. In Vegas, alcohol flows freely and clouds of smoke pervade the environment. And of course there's the allure of gambling (I'm a sucker for video poker and craps). And I missed just about all of it. One buffet and one show in 4 days. I don't really count the 9 hours of orthodontic lectures I attended among the fun things. My friends invited me out, Ian had some ideas for a date night (which we did), and even my parents made some suggestions that I enjoy myself. But there was someone I was with who needed me every 3-4 hours for nourishment and needed a nap at just the right time and wasn't allowed in the casinos and got fussy when out too long and was at a developmental stage where he couldn't take all the smoke and noise and needed diaper changes every so often and... who I love. So this time I didn't experience Las Vegas as I have in the past. Don't get me wrong. I don't actually need to do all that happens in Vegas. And most of the time, I don't even like to do all that happens in Vegas. But I think I like having the freedom to choose to do some of what happens in Vegas. And that came and went with my single life. Because now I have not just one, but two other people I have committed to serve.

So for just a moment while holed up in a timeshare in Vegas, I mourned the loss of the freedom that came with my single life. But then I thought about the way Ian greets me when I come home, the way he offers to do the things I don't like to do (like going grocery shopping and taking out the trash and lifting heavy things), the way he warms up my side of the bed for me when it's cold, the way he laughs at my dumb jokes, the way he doesn't get mad at me when I get mad at him. And then I thought about the way Jackson stretches when he wakes up, the way he looks at me out of the corner of his eyes when I bend over his crib because his head's too big to hold in any position but off to the side, the way the top of his head smells, the way he hyperventilates and windmills his arms in excitement when he realizes that I have a load of milk to feed him, the way he coos and smiles in response to my smile. And it is all so worth losing the life I had before.

Clarice

Cutest baby in the world

Yep, another Jackson post. We just can't help ourselves. Could you resist with such a blessing?

I was recently reminded by my friend Amy about a conversation we had about 5 years ago, when her first child, Zane, was born. I was admiring him (I think), when she gushingly proclaimed, "Isn't he the cutest baby in the world?" I was a bit flummoxed regarding a correct response, as I recall. I did indeed think he was a very cute baby, but I wasn't sure if I could confidently agree that he was the cutest baby in the world. After all, I hadn't actually seen all the babies in the world to know if it was true. If I said yes, I would be lying (because I'm certain that among all of the kids who were babies at the time, there would have been at least one to rival Zane's cuteness). If I said no, she might take it the wrong way and think that I thought Zane wasn't cute (which wasn't the case). Apparently I replied, "I'm sure that all parents think their babies are the cutest in the world." When I look at that response in text, I can see how it might have seemed cruel or sarcastic. Pretty dumb response at any rate. But Amy reassures me that I said it in the most diplomatic of ways. I'm certain that I must have meant it in a way that confirmed Zane's cuteness.

Well Jackson and I took a trip to the Grove on Saturday. We were on a mission. We had exactly 72 minutes to buy birthday presents for his Grandma and his Auntie Cal and get back home before he would have a hunger meltdown. But all these people kept hindering our mission because they wanted to coo at him and tell me how cute he was. I was happy to agree (in spite of our rush), because Ian and I happen to think he's quite cute. In fact, we make sure we declare it to each other at least a few times a day just in case the other forgets this fact. Back to the Grove... After the 894th person (perhaps an exaggeration) stopped us to comment on his cuteness, I thought to myself, "Do all babies get this kind of response? Could I possibly have the cutest baby in the world?" Then I was horrified. My fear was only partly because I had joined the ranks of those parents who think their babies are the cutest in the world (which would actually put me in pretty good company). Actually, I was quite fearful about the idea of actually having the cutest baby in the world. Well... not really (because I'm sure there's at least one other baby who may be cuter), but I was a bit dismayed about the idea of possibly seeing my cute little boy turn into a knockout of a man.

It probably sounds ridiculous that the idea that this child might grow up to be attractive puts me in a pensive mood. It's just that I've been thinking about what kind of values I want to instill in my son. I really want him to be concerned above all else about the content of his soul. I want him to pursue the character of Jesus. But living in Los Angeles is so counter to this idea at times. There are beautiful people all over the place who place such high value on being beautiful. And people seem to treat the attractive differently. I sometimes wonder if growing up with the kind of special treatment afforded to those with outer beauty does something to the mind. Neither Ian nor I had this problem. I was rather average looking as a baby, gawky as a child, and surly as a tweener. Not much on the outside to draw positive attention. Ian was a cute baby and child, but had dreadful fashion sense to tone down his cuteness. Adolescence was an entirely different story for him. Let's just say I'm glad I met him when he was done with puberty. But neither of us really had to deal with people responding positively to us based only on our external appearance. We basically had to merit any good will. So I'm spending a few minutes thinking about this for our son. How can I teach him to value internal beauty over external beauty? Well, I guess I have a few years before I have to worry about this. Or...he may lose his cuteness and I won't have to worry about it at all. In the meantime, I'm sure I'll think of other weird things to obsess about regarding his future.

Clarice

Happy Birthday, Little Man!

Monday was Jackson's 2 month birthday. I don't usually celebrate such landmarks. In fact, I sometimes forget the yearly birthdays of family members, let alone friends. But Monday was one remarkable day.

It started with a visit to the pediatrician. Jackson's gone from his birth weight of 6 lb, 4 oz to 10 lb, 8 oz. That takes him from the 10th percentile to the 25th. We have a good eater. His "height" (if you still call it that while they're still vertical) went from 18.5" to 22". He's stayed in the 10th percentile, but the pediatrician said she's not worried about his height considering his parental height. And she was impressed with his developmental landmarks. He can hold his head up quite well and has turned over from belly to back 5 times. We swear the little sounds that come out when he smiles are signs of laughter. Ian and I are convinced that he is (in the words of the proud mama of Zane and Audrey) quite "advanced."

After the pediatrician, Jackson and I went to visit our friend McCall, who is expecting one of Jackson's future girlfriends any day now. It was fun to compare pregnancy notes and to hear that baby Harper does a lot of the same things Jackson did when he was in my womb. I'll have to blog about that some other time.

Then that evening, Jackson slept from midnight to 7:00 AM. That means Ian got 7 hours of sleep. Me, I woke up at 5:00 AM expecting to feed him. Instead I was elated that he didn't need to be fed, and bummed that I had wasted a possible 7 hour stretch of sleep by getting up. FYI, I think he was teasing us that night. He's since gone back to waking up at 4:00 AM and resisting going back to sleep.

Overall, I'm absolutely amazed at how fast babies develop. Just over 2 months ago, he existed in a waterly world, with an umbilical lifeline to feed him 24/7. Now he knows when he's hungry and knows how to alert us of the fact. He can interact with us after living almost 5 times as long quite happily in isolation. Since he's no longer the eating, sleeping, pooping creature that he was when he was first born, I am amazed at how he's becoming a little person. And I am amazed at the signs he demonstrates of what kind of person he will be. It's utterly fascinating to me that this little person came from one cell that I contributed and one cell that Ian contributed. All testifying to the amazing abilities of the Creator!

Clarice

I'm Popeye

Just like his Eyre cousins, Jackson has a blocked tear duct, resulting in the worst eye poop imaginable. We have to clean his eyes every couple of hours. He also has long eyelashes, which trap the eye poop and paste his poor little eye shut. But it sure has a cute result, doesn't it?


Clarice

First Pair of Pants

Jackson's outgrowing his newborn sleepers. So we washed some of the pants we had received at his baby shower (thanks, Aunt Sharon and Aunt Helen and anyone else I may have forgotten!!). Apparently, there are waistline issues when you have to pull pants over diapers. We thought this was rather entertaining. He looks like a little old man with his bald head and his pants pulled up so high.


Clarice

Easter Thoughts

I was reading Hebrews chapter 12 yesterday and stopped to consider verse 4, "You have not yet resisted to the point of shedding blood in your striving against sin" (NASB). Have I ever struggled so hard to defeat sin in my life that I bled? Not even close! In fact, I can’t imagine that it would be possible for me to stress that much, although it is medically possible to sweat blood under extreme circumstances. Did the author of Hebrews have first hand knowledge of striving against sin to the point of bleeding? What could this mean?

Then I remembered a passage where Jesus bled. I re-read Luke 22:39-46, where Jesus prayed before His crucifixion, asking God to “remove this cup from Me; yet not My will, but Thine be done” (verse 42). Verse 44 says; "And being in agony He was praying very fervently; and His sweat became like drops of blood, falling down to the ground." I always thought Jesus sweated blood because He was not looking forward to receiving God’s wrath for my sin and all the sins of all the people of the world. That, to me, was a stressful enough circumstance for a person to sweat blood and I’m sure that was part of it. But, the context of the passage is Jesus warning His disciples to pray against temptation. Reminds me of 1 Corinthians 10:13, “No temptation has overtaken you but such as is common to man; and God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will provide the way of escape also, that you may be able to endure it.”

The connection I made between Hebrews 12:2 and Luke 22:44 is that Jesus was also praying against His own temptation. The temptation to quit the calling the Father had given Him - to suffer and die for us that we might have access to His righteousness and therefore His heaven, among many other blessings. In verse 43 an angel strengthens Him. He could have asked God to send angels to save him from the coming death, but this would have been sin to Him – disobeying His Father. Out of his love for us He strove against this sin to the point of shedding blood. What greater temptation than to skip out on experiencing the wrath of God for the sins of the world, but He resisted for our sake! Fortunately, we don’t have to deal with the temptation that Jesus faced – we would not be able to endure it.

Jesus took God’s justice on Himself out of mercy for us (Isaiah 53:6). Amazing Love!

Ian

Thank you, Paloma Race!!

I forgot to blog about our adventure last weekend. I had read on my friend Amy's Xanga blog that there was a drive-in theater in Los Angeles that played first run movies. Last weekend, I was quite stir-crazy. After a lifetime occupied by school and work and ten years engaged in the incredibly dynamic community of people at Mosaic, I've been feeling housebound since my maternity leave began. Sure, I've been to work a few times to catch up on some can't-miss meetings, to church, and to people's homes. But we hadn't really done anything date-like since before the baby was born. OK, we did go to the movies one time while Ian's parents were here, but since the live-in grandparental assistance has left and we've been on our own as parents, we haven't done anything fun together.

So last weekend, we packed up the baby, popped some corn, threw a 2-liter bottle of Coke in the car and headed to the City of Industry. We picked up some burgers and parked the car to watch "Inside Man."

OK, so it wasn't a picture perfect date. Jackson got fussy partway through the movie and earned himself a "snack" to quiet him so we could hear the dialogue. Then he leaked through his diaper onto Ian's sweater and earned a messy diaper change in the driver's seat of our cramped Beetle. But it was sooooooo nice to be doing things that people do when they're not in the fog of caring for a newborn. And going to the drive-in was rather nostalgic. Last time I did that, I was in the back seat of my parents' Lincoln Continental with my brother, both of us wearing footies pajamas, watching a Bruce Lee movie. I think we'll be going back to the drive-in again. I highly recommend the experience. Only $7 per person for a double-feature. Can't beat that!!! You can even bring your own food without the shame of having to sneak it in inside a large purse.

Vineland Drive-in
626-961-9262
443 North Vineland Avenue
City of Industry, California

Classic Drive-in that was expanded to 4 screens,
with an overall capacity for over 1500 cars, which
still draws fantastic crowds on most weekends,
as the Los Angeles area's nearest operating Drive-in.
Open year-round, with 4 sets of double features,
and audio provided by FM stereo radio broadcast.
Admission: $7.00 (ages 12&UP); ages 11&under free.

Clarice

"Is he adopted?"

Some of my friends and family have been teasing me about my "little white kid."


I will admit that Jackson looks more like Ian than he does me, with the light hair and blue eyes.


Here's the infant evidence.


I don't mind the joking at all. I mean...he does look like a white kid. To me he doesn't have strong Chinese features. But last Sunday, I got thrown for a loop. Ian was sick so Jackson and I went to church without him. We were sitting out in the courtyard after service enjoying the sun and conversations with people I had never met before who suddenly got friendly when they saw my little cutie. Sandra was holding Jackson...Sandra, my fair-haired, fair-skinned friend...when a woman came by to look at Jackson. She said he was cute, then asked Sandra if he was her first. She looked aghast for a moment, then pointed her thumb in my direction. I replied for her that Jackson was my first. The woman looked at me for a moment, then asked, "Is he adopted?" I wasn't sure exactly what she was thinking. I saw her scan my face and my belly, so I quickly replied, "Yeah, he got all my husband's genes, then sucked all the extra weight off me." I'm guessing she either thought he was too fair to be mine or I was too skinny to have given birth 5 weeks prior. I really don't know. For the record, I'm happy Jackson looks like Ian. A boy should look like his daddy. I'm just baffled that the laws of genetics didn't play out. Oh, well. I guess things don't always go the way they teach it to you in science classes.

Clarice

Our son, the lima bean

Silent for over a week. Wasn't sure quite how to top Ian's last post. Can't top it. Happy not to try to top it. Elated that my husband has committed to fathering in such a way. Makes mothering much easier. So how about something completely different...

Ian's been talking about how Jackson looks like a lima bean. I wasn't quite sure what he was talking about. Was he referring to color? To shape? To texture? Finally, he explained that there was a Veggie Tales movie about Jonah where the Ninevites, who were (apparently) fish-slappers (I don't know what that means), were portrayed by a special cast of lima beans. So here's the photographic evidence.




I'm somewhat convinced, although reluctantly. What do you think? Jackson the fish-slapping Ninevite lima bean?

Clarice (the lima bean's mama)

Dear Jackson

Dear Jackson,

My son, I am your father. I conceived you in love with your mom and I witnessed your growth in her tummy. You brought us so much joy then as you do now, kicking and squirming and hiccuping. When you decided to leave the warmth of your cocoon I caught your head and cradled you. I witnessed your first breath and scream and tremblingly handed you to your mom, the woman who so lovingly cared for you in her womb and brought you into this world with much strain and pain.

My son, I am your provider. I will sacrifice my own needs to meet yours. I provide you with my name, which is my reputation, and I pledge to live above reproach and continue to become conformed into the image of Jesus so that you will see God in our home and desire to be like Him, too. I will hold our family together by placing God at the head and loving and serving your mom that our marriage may be strong to support you. I will pass on the wisdom that my father gave me. I will lead our family to impact the world for Christ and I dream that you will one day become a spiritual leader for you own family so that every generation to follow will seek God’s Kingdom first over all.

My son, I am your protector. As an infant you are fragile and needy. One day I may be fragile and needy and I hope you will take care of me. I will protect you from harm and from the pressures of this world. I will teach you how to think and to digest everything that goes in your eyes and ears and filter out the lies of this world using the Truth of God’s Word. I will protect my marriage so that you will seek the same and will avoid the pain of unhealthy relationships.

My son, I am your priest. I will daily intercede for you to the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. I pray for your relationships, your education, your future wife and children and your opportunities to serve others with good works to the glory of God. I will pray with you that you may learn how to talk with your Creator. I pray that you will fear the Lord your God at an early age and that, with childlike faith and the intellect God has given you, you will become confident in the truth of God’s Word and share it joyfully.

My son, I am your prophet. I will teach you the difference between right and wrong and how to live with a clean conscience. I will teach you the Scriptures that you may know God’s love letter to you and I will teach you how to hear the Spirit of the Lord when he speaks that you may follow Him all the days of your life.

My son, I am your professor. I will teach you the wonders of this marvelous world that we live in. I will teach you to work hard, to play hard, to honor the sanctity of sex, to seek purity and integrity and to lead a life of selflessness and generosity, that you will not hoard your blessings but share them. We will explore the universe together and discover the wonders of science and math and art together. My fridge will display all your creations. And you will teach me again and again, through the mind of a curious, innocent, imaginative and loving child, how marvelous is our God and the world He has created.

My son, I am your pal. There will be times when my job is that of a disciplining parent, but there will be times when we can be best friends. We will go camping together, I will be at many of your ball games and I will teach you to ride a motorcycle and fly an RC glider. I will treasure the memories of the times I spend with you that we may always share and remember the life God has given us together.

As God has adopted me into His family and loved me before I was capable of loving him, I too love you before you are able to love me. While I may disappoint God at times, although He chooses to only see the best of His Son Jesus in me, and I know that you will disappoint me at times, I choose to love you unconditionally for as long as I live. You are my family and I cannot stop loving you and seeking the best for you. You are my son!

Love, Dad

The Little Things

A couple of weeks ago, my friend Darlynn stopped by to see Jackson and to bring dinner for us harried new parents. She brought her 22 month old son. It was so fun to see how her son has grown in the 10 months since we first met him. And it was fun to see what is to come for our little one.

I had to snicker to myself a few times that night though. Apparently, Darlynn's son is learning how to jump. Most of the time, it looked like the physical action of a jump, with no actual progress. But once in a while, he would actually leave the ground a bit. On those events, Darlynn would proudly encourage him, "Great job! You got some air that time!" I thought it was funny because Darlynn, for as long as I've known her, has always been a no-nonsense, tell-it-like-it-is person. I had a couple of middle school aged orthodontic patients who had her as a teacher when she was teaching social studies. She was well-liked (as she deserves) and had a reputation among the students for her biting wit. So it was fun to see that she has melted into a tender-hearted mom.

Now a couple of weeks later, I'm rather surprised to hear what comes out of my mouth, as well as Ian's. Both of us have always prided ourselves on being logical and unemotional, but these are the little things that make us excited now:

"Ooo! Excellent burp! Give me another just like that"
"Hey, did he just smile? I don't think it was just gas. Do it again. Come on, smile, smile, smile!"
"That's it! Turn your head! Lift it up! Now rotate!"
"Hey, I think he just discovered his hand!"
And the classic..."My, that was a productive poop! You're such a good eater!"

All of our happy observations seem so appropriate now - for us as well as for our son at his developmental stage. I just hope nobody catches us saying these same things in 18 years.

Clarice

Before the baby came I used to joke that when the baby came I could regress my maturity to the baby's level and then mature with the baby as he grew. Therefore I could have a second chance to grow up. My wife put an end to my joke after hearing it for the third time. (Three is the magic number for her to start connecting my jokes to my bahavior and wondering if I have core value issues.) I mean, how ludicrous to think that I would really dream of regressing to infancy and start spitting up on myself and pooping in public and then spend 18 plus years growing up to the level of maturity I had when I was that age. Now that the baby has come, we celebrate our baby's infantile behavior but my wife hopes we don't get caught celebrating these things in 18 years! Let's hope we both mature again faster than our baby. :)

Ian

Crossing the street without looking

I read an editorial today that reminded me of something that stuck in my mind about a month ago. I was leaving work and getting ready to cross the street to get to the parking structure where Baloo (my cute single girl's car that is now quite inconvenient for our growing family) was parked. There was a group of 4 or 5 students walking in front of me. The lone girl in the group stepped out into the street without looking. She didn't even wait to get into the crosswalk. Not too big of a deal, except a car had already started to turn left into that lane. She didn't even see the car, she was so busy talking to her friends. One of her friends reached out to stop her and the car slammed on the brakes. And the girl? She walked on, clueless and unfazed. For some reason, I seethed inside. Maybe I was shocked at her lack of caution. I grew up being taught that crosswalks weren't magic. There was the chance that a driver might not be paying attention so I still had to protect myself. Maybe I was annoyed because I've had to slam on the brakes a few times when somebody (usually talking on a cell phone) decides to cross the street in front of my right turn just when the white man turns into a blinking red hand. Most likely, I was frustrated by the lack of consideration she was showing. Consideration was at the core of the editorial I read today.

We as a country (or maybe even a human race) have seemed to have lost a value for consideration. Instead, we continually talk about "our rights." And rights seem to be about the importance of what I want instead of what you may want (or even need). I read an article about Constitutional rights a while back by Walter Williams. The excerpt that struck me was this:

The way our Constitution's framers used the term, a right is something that exists simultaneously among people and imposes no obligation on another. For example, the right to free speech, or freedom to travel, is something we all simultaneously possess. My right to free speech or freedom to travel imposes no obligation upon another except that of non-interference. In other words, my exercising my right to speech or travel requires absolutely nothing from you and in no way diminishes any of your rights.

Nowadays, it doesn't seem to matter what others may want. If a group of people want something, they'll try to push it through loudly with political means despite potential infringement on the rights of others. It kind of bugs me that special interest groups will take issues to the Supreme Court that have already been decided by the Legislature. Even when a majority wins a decision, the minority often wants to impose its desires on the rest of the country. Kinda inconsiderate. I've noticed the loss of consideration in social aspects also. People seem to flaunt their rights to free speech. You know, like having to listen to the sexcapades of a neighboring group of people in loud, off-color language. What if I don't want to hear what you did last night? ...Or what you think of this or that? Can be inconsiderate also. I've even seen the focus on rights enter into the church setting. You know, when people insist that church should be done a certain way. Or that they would best be served if the church did this. What about people who have no experience of church? What if they would actually consider God if we weren't so hung up on what we want? Inconsiderate? I'm starting to see how culture is swinging toward a norm where people feel more and more comfortable demanding their rights at the expense of others. And we are growing less and less considerate.

I think I get so hung up on the battle between rights and consideration because it's a battle in my own life. I'm a structured person. I like things just so and I think I know everything. And sometimes, I forget to (or don't bother to) consider that others might not like things the way I do. So the example of Jesus keeps banging me over the head. He knew what His rights were, yet He chose to consider those rights as less important than serving people. If that's what Jesus did, then I have no justification to think that my rights are more important than someone else's. I wonder what this country (this world) would be like if we all chose to look not only to our own interests, but the interests of others. Less controversial Supreme Court decisions? More congenial relationships with strangers? More growing churches? Perhaps it could just be easier to drive without worrying about hitting people who aren't looking before crossing.

Clarice

Ian's last post

Can you believe what Ian wrote about on his last post? The last time he blogged was almost 4 months ago. He's had plenty of ideas for posts - mainly involving motorcycles, fire, explosions, coal trains, and other manly shenanigans. Meanwhile, in his absence, this blog has moved distinctly toward the feminine. To all of Ian's buddies, take note, Ian's been slightly domesticated by his man-child. He's writing about diaper changes and bath time. Who's next?

Clarice