Softy

Hotel [Insert Name Here]

Since visiting friends in Knoxville and Kansas City this summer, I think I've decided the perfect vacation with little kids is visiting friends with little kids (or fully prepared for little kids, aka "grandparents").

When you're staying in someone's home, it's not a big deal if you forget something. In fact, there is far less to remember since they already have a pack-n-play, high chair, strollers, utensils, etc. They have a fully-stocked kitchen, the host has planned the meals, you're not eating out all the time (always stressful with a 2-yr-old who does NOT want to sit), and you can put the kids to bed and stay up eating, talking, and watching movies.

Speaking of putting the kids to bed, in a house there's much more opportunity to sleep apart from your kids than in a hotel. Closets, offices, playrooms, guest rooms, basements - it's amazing where you can fit a pack-n-play or sleeping bag so the 2-yr-old's midnight crying jag doesn't wake e-v-e-r-y-o-n-e.

Not only that, they have toys (legos!), built-in playmates for our kids (big and small), and know all the local toddler hotspots: the mini ride-in train, the restaurant with chalkboard walls for kids to color, the neighborhood pool, the town parade including 9 (9!!) firetrucks, the backyard playset, and the bbq restaurant where kids eat free including ice cream.

Finally, I learn a lot from the host families - from visiting their churches to reading their books and trying out their cooking tips. As soon as we got back from Kansas City, I went right out to Target and bought the best kids thermoses (keep milk cold all day long) and water wings (I can take both boys to the pool on my own without panicking). Thank you, Steve & Ginger! Since returning from Knoxville, I've spent hours reading and wrestling with some fascinating and challenging ideas that have already impacted my decision-making. Thank you, Mark & Katy!

All of which makes me sound like the biggest mooch ever. But I like to remind them we were technically invited - and that hopefully they'll come visit us so we have a chance to pamper them as well as they've pampered us.

'Cause we do love y'all. And your households.

For My Fellow Travelers on This Road

Noah was probably 4 months old. I was leaning on the granite counters of a friend's kitchen, talking with a third young mom whose oldest was 3, when she said, "You're not balding. It happens to everyone. All the hair you kept during pregnancy is finally falling out. It'll stop in a couple months, and then you'll be back to normal. Well, you know..."

I did. Now. And I left that playdate with a lighter heart.

I can't tell you how many times something like this has happened. I walked into Bible study crying because I'd just had to discipline my 2-year-old and another mom told me I'd done the right thing. Or I got called out of small group because the same 2-year-old had bitten a friend over a toy firetruck - only to return to my small group and have the other boy's mother shrug it off as no big deal. A FB friend asked for school lunch ideas and 15 people offered suggestions I've been using ever since. A moms' group speaker shared her meal swap experience and a tablemate offered to start a swap with me. I posted a blog entry about night terrors and two friends replied in the same boat. Or Sunday morning in the nursery, a mom of 5- and 7-yr-old boys handed me a shopping bag sagging with 2T-4T boy clothes. And I can't even count the number of times a mom I trust has kept my kids or I've kept hers.

This is community in action. Full of blessings. Especially for moms who don't know [you name it]. How are we supposed to know what's normal? How can we keep perspective when we spend the day with toddlers?

In my experience, books are helpful, but they have to take the most conservative approach to avoid liability. And the ranges they share of "normal" are usually way too narrow. Not to mention they feel the need to address the exceptional emergencies possible with any issue, adding to a mother's fears rather than calming them.

If you know me, you know I love to read and have found parenting books extremely helpful. But I think that's because I have been able to read them in the context of a community of moms who help me evaluate what I read. It's the real-world experience of other moms that makes the difference.

And at this stage, I don't think one or two friends is enough. "It takes a village" to find someone who's going through the particular issue I'm dealing with at any given moment - and to make sure the two of us don't go off the deep end together. It also spreads the burden of any particular need.

I've been thinking a lot lately about why I am so passionate about reaching out to other young moms - working, at home, wherever. And I've realized it's because I've seen the dangers of isolation and the benefits of community. It is hard to get out of the house. It is easy to feel inadequate or guilty or tired. But participating in community can offer more benefits than hardships -- especially a loving, Christian community like I've found at our church. These girls know about grace, are welcoming, and don't jump to conclusions. If you have the chance to join a community like that -- and if you feel isolated from other moms -- I urge you to take it.

It may be uncomfortable at first. Your kids may get sick in the nursery. You may have to give up another activity. And you may encounter some people you don't like. But the more I invest in one community, the more I've discovered a diversity of friendships, the more I find comfort, encouragement, support, mentoring, meals, playdates, relevant adult conversation, and opportunities to feel useful to someone else (over 3 feet tall). When I'm sick, I can call a friend to watch my kids. When I read something disturbing, I can hear another perspective on it. And when a friend feels like she's getting swallowed up by 1,000 Why's, she has somewhere to go.

Some seasons are more isolating than others. And I'm certainly not trying to heap more busyness on anyone who's already frazzled. But I can't stand the idea of someone thinking they have to go it alone. If this is you, please make it a point to find a friendly community of young moms and jump in. And if you live in the Nashville area, feel free to join mine. You are always welcome.

And if you need more than my word for it, here are some amazing words from a far better source...

In this way we are like the various parts of a human body. Each part gets its meaning from the body as a whole, not the other way around. The body we're talking about is Christ's body of chosen people. Each of us finds our meaning and function as a part of his body. But as a chopped-off finger or cut-off toe we wouldn't amount to much, would we? So since we find ourselves fashioned into all these excellently formed and marvelously functioning parts in Christ's body, let's just go ahead and be what we were made to be, without enviously or pridefully comparing ourselves with each other, or trying to be something we aren't.

Don't burn out; keep yourselves fueled and aflame. Be alert servants of the Master, cheerfully expectant. Don't quit in hard times; pray all the harder. Help needy Christians; be inventive in hospitality. Bless your enemies; no cursing under your breath. Laugh with your happy friends when they're happy; share tears when they're down. Get along with each other; don't be stuck-up. Make friends with nobodies; don't be the great somebody.

Those of us who are strong and able in the faith need to step in and lend a hand to those who falter, and not just do what is most convenient for us. Strength is for service, not status. Each one of us needs to look after the good of the people around us, asking ourselves, 'How can I help?' That's exactly what Jesus did. He didn't make it easy for himself by avoiding people's troubles, but waded right in and helped out. "I took on the troubles of the troubled," is the way Scripture puts it. Even if it was written in Scripture long ago, you can be sure it's written for us. God wants the combination of his steady, constant calling and warm, personal counsel in Scripture to come to characterize us, keeping us alert for whatever he will do next. May our dependably steady and warmly personal God develop maturity in you so that you get along with each other as well as Jesus gets along with us all. Then we'll be a choir—not our voices only, but our very lives singing in harmony in a stunning anthem to the God and Father of our Master Jesus! So reach out and welcome one another to God's glory. Jesus did it; now you do it!

-- Romans 12:4-6, 12:11-16, 15:1-7 (The Message)

Avalanche

Last week was not a good week to be my friend.

On Saturday, K's father died suddenly of a heart attack. Tuesday, J started having contractions at 19 weeks. Wednesday, (a different) J fell down the stairs with her 11-week-old in her arms. Sunday was the 1 year anniversary of V's father's death. Monday, T's son ran into a post and had to get staples in his head. Also Monday, my Aaron fell head-first off a kitchen stool.* It was an avalanche.

Thankfully, all the kids are ok now. But I'm pretty sure the adults are taking longer to recover. So if you have a moment, please pray for these women. That we would have wisdom and strength in parenting our kids, loving our parents, and being good friends to one another.

"He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young." -- Isaiah 40:11

*Before I get a flurry of emails, I should note that 3 different doctors (Josh & friends) agreed we did not need to take Aaron to the ER as he was not exhibiting any serious symptoms of injury. He was fussy and pitiful and uncomfortable all day, which tied my stomach in knots, but apparently he was never in real danger. And by Tuesday, he was fine. It was probably made worse by the week of trauma I'd just witnessed. But it ended well. Thank the Lord.

Granted

Ok, so if the Fathers' Day pics proved that Josh is a great dad, then Friday reminded me to tell you that he's also a great doctor. We didn't always know if this would be true.

During med school, Josh spent hours at our tiny kitchen table, laboring over his decisions past and present. Was his passion for computers going to waste? Should he quit med school to get into the booming tech industry? If he stuck with medicine, which specialty? Nothing seemed to utilize all his strengths.

Until the second month of his last year of med school. He decided to spend a week shadowing a Vandy internist so he could choose between internal medicine (adults) and pediatrics (kids). In God's providence, that internist is also a biomedical informatics researcher. "Biomedical informatics" is literally "a discipline at the intersection of information science, computer science, and health care." Kabam.

Not only had Josh suddenly been introduced to an emerging field that perfectly fit his skills, he was also studying at the top institution in that field. Vanderbilt has the largest Biomedical Informatics department in the country.

Six years later, Josh had finished his residency in internal medicine and fellowship in biomedical informatics. He took a job at Vanderbilt, seeing patients, teaching, and researching ways computers can improve healthcare.

Three years after that, he applied for his first major federal grant (he's part of many other grants, but this stands in a class of its own). An R01, and a practical necessity for any tenure application. Josh's application was reviewed over a year ago, given a great score, and then shelved. That's right, nothing. No word. Every few months, he'd check in with the committee, but with a major budget battle going on in Washington, it didn't look good.

Which brings me back to Friday. He got it. He GOT IT! Woohoo!

Someday I'll tell you more about the ground-breaking research Josh is doing, how many lives it saves, and how good he is with patients and programmers alike, but today, let me just tell you: I am so glad the U.S. government finally got off its tush and recognized that this guy deserves this grant for this work. Because it is amazing. And so is he.

(Celebrating at Cheesecake Factory.)

Happy Day, Daddy!

I don't talk about Josh enough on this blog. Perhaps because he's my partner in crime (er, parenting) or perhaps because if I told you how wonderful a father he is, you wouldn't believe me. So here's a little proof...


 

Trucks, Guns, & Milk

Yesterday, Noah happened to be talking to me while I was near my computer, so I started taking dictation. Before I offer this peek into the mind of my 3-year-old, let me just say that while we do technically live in the South, we live in one of the least Southern cities in TN, do not own a gun, have never seen a monster truck, and are not campers. Needless to say, that has not stopped our son from spending hours talking about all of the above.

"All monster trucks are made for good guys. They're high up so bad guys can't get in them. Most monster trucks are too high for bad guys. All bad guys are small - like my GI Joe soldiers. They have to point their guns way up high (demonstrating) 'cause they're so small.

"One day I saw a policman drive by and he was way up high in a monster truck. He was in a pickup monster truck with a door on its back so he can carry stuff around, but he was carrying nothing around. He was just driving around. I didn't know where he was driving, but I just saw him. And then he stopped his truck. Then he opened the passenger door. I don't know why he opened the passenger door. But then he shut it back up.

"GI Joe soldiers speak Spanish because they don't know what the other GI Joe soldiers said. GI Joe soldiers sing songs about God differently from us. They sing like this, "Rur, rur, rur, rur..." (singing like a dog). They stop in the middle of the song because they don't know the whole song, so they can take a rest of singing the song.

"GI Joe soldiers eat food too, 'cause they don't want to die. And they try to stay away from bombs*. One day, a bomb exploded and someone shot the fire with their guns and the fire was dead. But they didn't realize there were some people confused by the explosion. I saw an explosion and a black ball came out, but it didn't have any spikes on it so I thought it was a golf ball. I was camping with my Daddy when I heard the explosion. We had some real guns in our tent so we could shoot anything like a bomb.

(Listening to his preschool's Bible song CD)
"Do you know who else sings the song about Adam and Eve?
Captain Hook. He likes to sing about Adam and Eve. He thinks it's fun."

And lest you think we're all about violence, last night's family movie was Mary Poppins, and the boys LOVED it. We also had a blast with friends at a local dairy farm last week. We can do wholesome. Between conversations about bombs. ;)

*I have to mention that we do NOT watch videos with guns or bombs. He learned what a bomb is from Peter Pan (the Golden book), and he learned about guns from friends.