25 Million Dollars

Tonight my friend Melissa asked me what I would do if I had $25 million dollars every year for the rest of my life. What would I do with it? Though I couldn't tell her right that second what I would do, now that I've had time to think about it, I know a few things I would do with it:
1) I would first make sure to put my home and family in order. I would build the house of our dreams, a modest one that would be sufficient for our needs and have a few extras. I would never want my children to know from the way we lived that we had a ton of money. I would also figure out a budget for our costs of living and set aside in savings the amount of money we would need to live without income or the ability to buy food, etc. for two years. This would include an amazing food storage, 72-hour kits for the number of children we want to have, money for missions, education, etc. It would also include plans for/money for my childrens' extracurricular interests, talents, and hobbies. I don't want to spoil them -- they'll have to work for things and learn that life's decisions (daily decisions) have consequences, but I also want them to have opportunities to develop themselves and share what they have to offer the world in the best way possible.

2) I would buy my mom and dad homes on land that they could do whatever they wanted with and would never have to worry again about rent or being homeless or not being able to live freely. I would also make sure all of their medical expenses were taken care of. The rest would be up to them.

3) I would set aside enough money to send 10 missionaries on missions every year so they would have the opportunity that someone gave me to share the gospel in spite of economic circumstances that might otherwise not allow it.

4) I would establish a printing and editing company, with a dual emphasis on good children and young adult literature and higher education.

5) As part of this company, there would be a charitable foundation on the side. From this, I would finish setting up the program for impoverished youth that I began to design while I was in Virginia before I came back to Moscow to date and marry Dave. The focus would include education, leadership, talent development, and community involvement and volunteerism.

6) I would set up a scholarship fund for non-traditional students (like my brother) to help more people be able to have the jobs they want and not just the ones they have settled for in order to have a pay check to take care of their families.

7) I would set up an orphanage project to send students to work for a semester to a year in an orphanage in a third-world country. This project would have to include a focus on educating the children and preparing them to succeed in the world (if they don't get adopted) after they grow up and move on.

8) I would take my family on a family vacation every year to a new place, somewhere we had researched and learned about for the entire year before.

9) I would start a chain of bed and breakfasts with rates that corresponded to the guests place in life/economic circumstances. For example, I would have excellent student rates and excellent rates for young couples with young kids that need to reconnect as husband and wife. I would also have great rates for empty-nesters because they need to reconnect as well and probably wouldn't have any money after getting their kids out on their own. ;-D

10) I would purchase a life-long membership in a gym. Or, better yet, I would start a gym specifically designed for new moms and moms with young children and busy husbands. That way, they could have a place to come and get away without worrying that their children are being neglected and could pull themselves together enough to have the energy to go back and give to their families.

Well, Melissa, that's what I have thought of in the last hour.

What would you do?

Eight Items

My friend Summer invited me to do this -- not sure when, but I saw it today on her blog. So, here it is:
1. Answer the six "8" items
2. Let each person know they have been tagged

8 Favorite TV Shows
1. T.V. - what? I don't even have t.v.

8 Things I did yesterday
1. Sat up with a sick baby all night
2. Watched the old school "Miracle on 34th Street" - yep, black and white version
3. Caught up on some sleep
4. Snuggled on the sofa with Dave
5. Worked with Dave on an Emergency Preparedness 72 Hour Kit list for FHE tomorrow
6. Talked to my Monique on the phone
7. Ate choc. chip cookies (we tried sub. apple sauce for half the butter - interesting)
8. Read an article from the Ensign

8 Things I look forward to
1. Seeing my family this weekend
2. Christmas break
3. My babies' smiles
4. My Anniversary
5. Time at the Gym
6. The day I don't have any more post-pregnancy OR pre-pregnancy weight to lose
7. Seeing my husband every day
8. An end to all the pending house projects (kitchen island, pantry, painting, organizing babies' room, etc.)

8 Favorite Restaurants
1. New Garden (Chinese Rest. that's so good!)
2. Olive Garden (don't eat there much, but I love their food)
3. Wolf's Lodge in Spokane (the only place I actually enjoy eating a steak)
4. Appleby's (Half-price appetizers . . . mmmmm)
5. Hmmmm . . . I don't eat out much. That's all I've got.

8 Things on my wish list
1. Piano music
2. Harp lessons
3. New makeup
4. Highlights in my hair
5. A marathon - if I could swim, I'd shoot for a triathalon; but I can't
6. Publishing children's books with Anne
7. A family portrait
8. Children who love the Lord, love us, love each other, and always want to come home

8 people I tag (if you choose to participate and haven't already done so)
1. Monique
2. Katie
3. Debi
4. Meagan
5. Amanda
7. Sarah
8.Tennille

Pictures -- The Latest

Joy in Living

It has been a while since I have written anything. Last Sunday we had a little experience that really threw me for a loop. We had just had dinner with some friends and came home to meet with our home teachers before Dave went home teaching.
*(Side note: In our church we have a program where the members are assigned a partner and families to visit once a month. You go to their homes, share a spiritual thought, and just visit, find out what is going on with their family, if they need anything, etc. It's our way of making sure everyone is taken care of, I guess you could say. When the men go out, they are called Home Teachers and visit families. The women also go out and visit other women, and they're called Visiting Teachers. So every home potentially gets two visits a month. I would venture to say that the Visiting Teaching visit is a little longer and lets you find out a lot more because we need girl time and love to talk a lot more than boys! ;-D)
Anyway, after our visit with our home teachers, Dave ran out the door to meet his companion and go visit his families. I sat down to feed Abby. When I got done feeding her, I had to run to the bathroom, so I propped her up on some pillows.

I could hear her starting to cry, and I was hurrying, but when I was finishing washing my hands, her cries turned into uncontrollable screams. I ran out and picked her up, thinking there was surely something wrong. But as far as I could see, she looked fine. Still, she was screaming and almost in hysterics.

I pulled her towards me and a few seconds later, her screams were cut off and followed by silence. I pulled her back and looked into her face to see her wide eyes filled with fear. Her face was turning red, and I realized she was not breathing. I said her name over and over and asked if she was okay. I pulled her into me and tried patting her back, wondering if she needed to burp or had some air stuck or something. But what was running through my mind was, "What in the world? What can I do? What will I do with Isaac? Could this really be it? No time to prepare, no time to say goodbye? Dave isn't even here, and he won't even see you. Could it really be over this quickly?"

Just then she coughed and then let out a short, loud scream. I started looking for my phone to call Dave and tell him to come home immediately, just in case it happened again. My phone was dead! I ran into the kitchen and plugged it in and dialed his number. He didn't answer. I hung up and dialed it again, but then her cry stopped short again, and I looked at her to see her face was again turning red. I hung up and pulled her to me and started patting her back. It kept getting darker and darker - nearing what you might call purple. I started to cry and pray. I didn't know what to do.
Just then she again coughed and then started to cry. Dave called back a second later, and I told him what had happened and asked him to come home right away. He did. But she didn't do it again. She calmed down, her coloring returned to normal, and she looked at her crying mommy like, "What's going on, Mom? Life's good. I'm fine."
Megan (the wife of the family Dave was home teaching) called and told me Dave was on his way and asked if I wanted her to send her husband over to give Abby a blessing with Dave or have her come and sit with Isaac while we took Abby to the hospital. I told her I'd wait and see what happened when Dave got home and how things looked.
I called the Family Birth Center and explained what had happened, asking if it could have something to do with the new formula for her reflux and what we should do. The nurse shrugged it off, saying she probably just didn't like the taste of the formula. Okay - dumb answer. Check. Don't call Family Birth Center next time your child stops breathing.
Dave got home and rushed over to me, taking Abby from my arms and cuddling her and talking to her and telling her over and over how much we loved her. Then he got online and researched to see if he could find anything similar out there. We found out that it is common for babies with reflux to stop breathing and can last anywhere from 25 to 45 seconds. It didn't look like there was really much we could do other than prop her up (which we already do) and just watch her. Great. Just what you want to hear as a parent, right?
To be honest, I was still a wreck. Just looking at her moved me to tears! I really had been so scared, and it really had thrown me that it all happened so quickly -- was even over so quickly. We called Megan back, and Jason came over to give Abby a blessing with Dave. The Spirit was so strong, and I felt really calm, really peaceful, reassured that it was going to be alright. Again, I was so thankful for the power of the Priesthood in our home and what it meant that frightening night.

You know, this is the first time I've looked death in the face on these terms. Granted, my daughter wasn't really that close to dying. But in my mind, it was a possibility. And the only other times in my life when it has been a possibility happened to people who were either older or had been sick for years. I can take death on those terms because I'm ready for it and I know what happens after one dies and where they go and that they will be resurrected and I will see them again. No big deal, right? I mean, you will miss the time you want to spend with them here, but you know you will have them again and that they aren't that far away. And for the most part, they've been people who have watched over me in life, so I easily assume they will watch over me and be near in death.
But a child? My child?
It hasn't been that long since she entered and -- some days at least -- took over my life. To think that it could be over in the blink of an eye . . . . It just really reminded me that life is fragile. There are no guarantees on our time here.

I once read a talk by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland (one of the 12 Apostles in our church) in which he said that God keeps in His hands control over when we enter this life and how and when we leave it. He doesn't give that power to anyone else; our life is a gift from Him. Some may try to take that power over ending life into their own hands; but they commit one of the greatest sins in doing so. It is a sacred power that belongs only to God. And when we, as parents, decide to become parents, we share that sacred power of creating life with God. And then we share the sacred responsibility over that life with Him for the duration. I guess that means we also have to trust the other side of it -- when He will decide to take that life away. But it wouldn't be easy at first to trust Him.
Even so, I know that after a time, I would find great comfort in the Atonement of Jesus Christ. I would find greater comfort still in the knowledge I have that Christ overcame death and that I would have my daughter back again. Even now the thought of having to rely on that knowledge to find peace were my daughter or son to be taken brings tears to my eyes. But at least I would have that knowledge to rely on. And after the tears subsided, or at least decreased, I would find joy in that knowledge as well.
I am so thankful for the Atonement, for my Savior, and for the opportunity that I have to live and to create and grow in this sometimes fragile life! And today, that brings me so much joy -- joy greater than whatever else might have been troubling me! It is so great to be alive!

The Priesthood in My Home

Abby was in a lot of pain from the shots she got the other day. Granted, it took me until 11:00 last night to figure out what was wrong with her; but at least I figured it out. She had been crying almost non-stop for a couple of hours. I had fed her, swaddled her, given her time in the swing, rocked her, and laid her down in the cradle with her pacifier. I thought she was just losing her pacifier when she kept screaming, but when I went to put it back in her mouth, it was usually already there. Anyway, I was changing Isaac's diaper and noticed that his leg was red with a white spot in the center (I assume where the shot had been injected). It was like a lightening bolt to my brain. I said, "Dave, I wonder if Abby's legs are bothering her." We looked, and sure enough, her leg was swollen, and she flinched when I touched her legs to change her diaper. So, I looked at the sheet from the doctor's office, ran to Safeway (at 11:45 p.m.) to get some Tylenol, and ran back home. When I took her from her cradle to give her the medicine, she was just sobbing, and her bedding was a little wet from her tears. I, of course, started to cry. I apologized over and over and over. I felt so awful!!!!

Then I looked at Dave and asked, "Do you think you should give her a blessing?" He said, "Yes - that's a good idea, actually. Let's do it right now." So, I took her over to his side of the bed, and I held and rocked her while he gave her a blessing of healing and comfort. I, again, cried through the whole thing. I returned to my side of the bed and rocked and bounced a bit until she calmed down. Then we laid down together and fell asleep. She didn't wake up again until 4:00 for her "regular" feeding.

I was trying to think about how I could explain the role of the priesthood in the Latter-Day Saint perspective to my friends who are not members of that church. I found this explanation on lds.org:

The priesthood is the eternal power and authority of God . . . .

Although the authority of the priesthood is bestowed only on worthy male members of the Church, the blessings of the priesthood are available to all—men, women, and children. We all benefit from the influence of righteous priesthood leadership, and we all have the privilege of receiving the saving ordinances of the priesthood.

The most important exercise of the priesthood takes place in the family. Each husband and father in the Church should strive to be worthy to hold the [Priesthood]. With his wife as an equal partner, he presides in righteousness and love, serving as the family's spiritual leader. He leads the family in regular prayer, scripture study, and family home evening. He works with his wife to teach the children and help them prepare to receive the ordinances of salvation. He gives priesthood blessings for direction, healing, and comfort.

Many members do not have faithful Melchizedek Priesthood holders in their homes. However, through the service of home teachers and priesthood leaders, all members of the Church can enjoy the blessings of priesthood power in their lives.

For me personally, I grew up in a home where my dad didn't live with us; so we did not have the power of the priesthood in our home on a daily basis. At one time, my mom was really sick, and my sisters and I had to move in with another family. I remember feeling so safe and secure in that home. The father presided with love. Their family had daily prayer and scripture study together, no matter how busy they were. If a child was struggling with something or really sick, he/she could go to the father and ask for a priesthood blessing. They didn't have to go to someone else to ask for one or wait for someone to have time to come to them. And the spirit of love was so strong in that home.

I determined then and there that I would never live without the priesthood in my home again. And I am so thankful that I have a husband who is worthy and willing to use his priesthood to bless our family every single day.

My tears before that blessing that Dave gave to Abby were tears of sadness and pain because of her pain. My tears while Dave gave that short, sweet blessing of healing and comfort were tears of love and gratitude. There we sat, mother and father, me cradling her in my arms, Dave sitting on the bed; and there together we did all we could to bless our little baby. We weren't in a church or even in a predominant place in our home; we were in our humble little bedroom, lit only by the light of a lamp by our bedside. But our location didn't matter. Our surroundings didn't matter. What mattered was our love for our daughter and our faith -- and Dave's worthiness to act. I love that Heavenly Father has made it possible for me to have that power in my home, to bless my children and, in turn, to bless His children wherever they are, in everything they may ever need.

Drifting Along with the Rambling Tumbleweeds

I don't know how many of you know this, but I have been doing some freelance editing/writing since I graduated. I guess that was kind of my "big dream" from forever ago, and since I didn't get the "professional" experience most places wanted to hire me permanently, I decided to get my own experience. I have mostly done things for people I know. It's been really great! I've done papers, a book, chapters for an anthology, dissertations, theses, and even done some technical writing.

My thesis focused a lot on literacy. It's a HUGE topic, and there really isn't a general consensus on what it means to be literate. You can ask a million questions about it, like literate in what respect? Literate to what end? Literate in what genre? Literate regarding written material? Literate regarding your ability to perform in a technical world (that's for you, Shawna)? Literacy has become a VAST and BROAD topic in America. And it is fairly controversial on all fronts. However, as I have edited student papers and even professional papers that professionals have written and feel are ready for and worthy of publication, I find myself thinking that there is a need to emphasize and focus on academic literacy. Literacy in its most basic sense could be just the ability to read and write. Literacy in an academic sense would be the ability to read and write (i.e. converse and communicate) in an academic setting. In fact, if I were to do my thesis again, I would focus on this. I think that this specification is what was missing from my thesis to connect all the dots and get one committee member in particular off my back! ;0) Still . . .

I am surprised that you can graduate with an M.A. in English without ever having taken a grammar course. In fact, the only grammar course I took was Advanced Grammar in the T.E.S.L. (Teaching English as a Second Language) curriculum. And that class was not a required course for me to take. I don't consider myself the all-knowing on all things grammatical. Just reading this blog entry should more than demonstrate that. However, that's okay in this setting because of my purpose and my audience. I'm not writing for an academic audience. I'm not writing to convey an academic idea. I am not citing sources or trying to prove anything. I am just writing stream-of-consciousness venting ;-D. So I can get away with imperfection here. However, the papers I am editing are written in and published for an academic audience. And the message is often lost in the delivery. In fact, in some instances I wonder if the author even read over the work being produced or simply threw it together and expected to have some sort of license because of his/her title, reputation, etc.

That is what I find so amazing. People are graduating, even writing papers as professors in their fields, without having a knowledge of how to manipulate and work the English language in order to communicate an idea to a specific audience without losing that audience in all of their contextual and grammatical errors (including but not limited to run-on sentences; dangling modifiers; lack of cohesion and, sometimes, coherence; lack of parallelism in lists, etc.). And yet, perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps what is missing is not a knowledge of HOW to do this but an accountability for applying that knowledge. Though I am thankful for the paycheck I get every once in a while to correct these mistakes, I would much rather have my faith restored in the Educational System and its ability to EDUCATE and hold people responsible for applying, not just acquiring, that education.

My sister would be one, as many of the rest of you probably are, to disagree with me. Or at least she would say that she herself cannot do what I say needs done. Why does she feel this way? Not because she isn't very bright and capable but because the system has failed her. It has decided that it isn't necessary to focus on such things, that the general public cannot learn such things, that it is only haughty intellectuals and purists that would ever suggest such a thing is necessary, and that it is just a waste of time, as study after study has "proven," to even try to educate the "general" academic public regarding such things.

Still today, two years after my thesis defense, I hear these arguments and see them as nothing more than society's way of not being accountable for its past actions while simultaneously being unwilling to just accept responsibility for and admit to having made mistakes. In all fairness, I guess that's what an emphasis on Writing Across the Curriculum is trying to accomplish; yet there are still so few who adopt and apply that practice. I don't know; I just don't know. And I don't want to join the ranks of those who point fingers without offering solutions; but acknowledging a problem must always come first. I guess I just come back to monitoring what is taught in my home and to my children in their schools. Sometimes that's really the best you can do anyway.

Bathroom Battlefront

Okay, so in June when we moved into this condo, it was basically disgusting!!!! Emphasis on the DIS-GUS-TING. Seriously, folks! So we (my mom and I) went to the store and dug out every combination of cleaning products possible. I must have spent at least $100 on just products to try to clean this place up. Anyway, my sister had told me to use Lysol Toilet Bowl Cleaner with Bleach to clean the toilet. Said to leave it on overnight and then - Viola!!!! - scrub clean for a perfectly white toilet bowl. Well, that was the one thing we got and tried that actually worked.

Then, with our heavy-in-iron Moscow water, I was noticing that the toilet bowls were getting yellow again. So, I bought more cleaner. I had noticed, however, that the cleaner just got to the water line and then disappeared in the water instead of cleaning the actual bowl. So I asked Dave -- casually, mind you -- this morning if he could turn off the water for me and get the water level down.

He cheakily said that it wasn't dirty enough to warrant that DEEP of a cleaning, but that I just needed to put it on it, let it sit for a few minutes, and scrub it off. I felt like he was wrong, however - long story short - he was right before in the cleaning marathon when I was freaking out about the tub being clean enough to bath babies in and spent days scrubbing it with my mom, and then he just went in and scrubbed for like fifteen minutes and had it sparkling!!!! Grrrrr. . . .

So, I told him that I hated it when he treated me like I hadn't worked on cleaning everything for days and didn't know anything.

Without me knowing what he was doing, he went in, got the cleaner, sprinkled it on the toilet, came out and ate breakfast, and then went back in and pretended to go to the bathroom while scrubbing the toilet bowl for like two minutes - TOPS. Know what -- he was right!!!! Again!!!! Not that I'm complaining about him scrubbing the bowl or anything, but sometimes it just kills me that he is so dang smart and so often right about everything.

Then again, perhaps I've found a new technique for getting out of cleaning the bathroom! ;-D

Shot to the HEART!!!!

So - Abby and Isaac got their first post-hospital shots today. I never understood how much it hurt the parent until today! Abby cried so hard, and her face got so red. Then tonight when I removed the bandaids I noticed a bump as big as her whole thigh! It made me almost cry all over again. They got shots in the leg -- I got a shot in my heart!

It made me remember when I was little and HATED getting shots. One time, my brother Troy and I decided to hide. They found me, unfortunately. But Troy was never discovered. Then we were all loading into the car and he ran out from behind the bushes and said, "Wait for me!" They took him right in to get his shot. It was a really good effort, though. He almost made it! I also remember someone telling me, "Don't tense up, Melinda, or tomorrow morning when you jump down from your bed, you'll jump right back up again it will hurt so badly." Oh - injections! I'd love to say I've gotten better since then, but the truth is, I still hate needles! When I went in to have Abby and Isaac and they put the I.V. in my arm, I thought it stung so bad and almost said, "Forget it! This isn't worth it!" But then I realized I'd have to have an I.V. either way and might as well just stick with the one that was already in my arm. I told Dave in the moment that I was SUCH a baby, and I knew it, but I HATE needles in all forms. Needless to say, I soon learned that THAT pain was NOTHING!!!! Still, I'll never say, "Bring on the needles!" Some things just don't grow on you. And knowing that there is a worse pain doesn't make a bit of difference in that mindset for me!

Isaac and Abby

Well, this is my first official post. What am I saying? Official or not, this is my first post. I finally decided that I need to start writing -- and I'll figure out how to put pics up and other fun stuff later. But you have to start somewhere, right? And I need to give Monique something to read so she'll start visiting my site again! ;-D

It has been quite a busy two months. I say busy, but even then all I can account for are 8-10x7x8.5x2 feedings, give or take a few; at least that many diaper changes; the more than occasional blowout; probably just as many hours of rocking and burping and coaxing through gas bubbles and constipation cramps; and, unfortunately, about 1/2 to 2/3 as many hours sleeping. ;-D

Take away all of that, and I can only attempt to put into words the millions of reasons -- infinite, if you will, and thus unable to put into a mathematical equation -- that I am completely in love with my family.

First of all, Abigail. The first thing that stole our hearts with Abby was her very well formed nose. I know it may sound silly, but she came into this world with the cutest little nose! Add to that her very large blue eyes, her somewhat olive skin tones (not sure where she got that from), and her cute little ears that stand out from her face just enough to stand out without it being so much that you think, "Wow - she has really big ears!" Yeah, she has a little pixy face, whatever that means. For some reason, that's just what comes to mind when I look at her. She is just a cute little girl in every way.

Abby started out being a very "colicky" baby. I cry even as I write this just thinking about the last eight weeks with this precious little girl. She has had a difficult time adjusting to this mortal tabernacle that her spirit has recently occupied in a new, unexplored way. And that has been hard for her and also hard on me, not going to lie. I remember many nights that she would wake up screaming, and I would go to the crib or the cradle and look into her face and see her whole face scrunched up in pain. It was awful! And many times I myself broke into tears at the mere sight of her discomfort. We would cry together -- which, as is generally the case with females, has led to some very intense female bonding in the wee small hours of the morning -- and then I would just sit and hold her and rock her and go through the bicycle motions with her legs to try to help her work through it. I write in the past tense, but the truth is that we are still doing all of this to try to work through it; but it's getting better!

Our first friend in working through all of this was Daddy. I remember the first week after we got home when Dave was just getting ready for his first day of school. He came in while I was feeding her and asked, "Can I burp her--- puhlease?!!!!!" My heart melted and I laughed and told him that of course he could. And that was neither the first nor last time that he came to my rescue with this little girl. Abby loves her daddy!!! The next friend in working through this little kink was Grandma White. She was followed by a bottle of gas drops. Then Monique came and put in her share of nights just rubbing and coaxing and rocking this little girl. Now it is a swing that an angel of mercy gave to us a few weeks ago (thanks, Shawna!!!). I'll put her in the fetal position in the swing, bundle her up really well, and let her just try to work through it while the swing does the rocking. And she has stolen all of our hearts as we have tried to ease her transition into this world.

Aside from that, though, things with Abby have just started to get really fun. She is one of the cutest, most fun to watch babies in the world! She will sit, sometimes for five minutes or so (which is a lot for a newborn) and just smile the biggest smiles, coo the cutest coos, and make faces that would make you think she was talking to you with the best of them were you to view it on a silent movie. A few times we have even gotten some giggles! It's so cute! And, yes, to our delight we have found she has her mom and Grandpa White's dimples! ;-D Lucky girl! She's well on her way to stealing many a male heart - her daddy's being the first! At Stake Conference on Saturday night, I think she was even singing the closing song with her dad. It was just so incredibly fun and just so cute! We can't get enough of watching her during those moments and even watching her constantly in anticipation for those moments.

Next is Isaac -- our little man. If you were to spend two minutes with him, you would soon see why we call him our little man and that there couldn't be a more accurate or appropriate description than that for him. He is seriously one of THE cutest little babies ever!!!! His smiles don't come as often or as easily as Abby's, but when they do they just steal your heart! His whole face -- generally serious with a furrowed brow that lets you know he is working on solving all the world's problems and cannot be disturbed -- relaxes, and you see this cute, sweet little boy in him come out for just a moment. However, I'm kind of glad that we have the furrowed brow moments. It just adds that much more personality to our little baby boy. You could literally sit and watch him for hours, watching his various "thinking at you" faces, as his daddy calls them. And you would laugh the entire time. Again, I get jealous when other people get to sit and watch him and quickly cue in to not miss a single moment of his glances, looks, furrowed brows, and occasional smiles.

Isaac is more of the strong, silent type already. He has also struggled with the gas and constipation, but instead of crying through it, he just furrows that brow and concentrates silently until he either falls asleep or works through it. Sometimes when you hold him, you can just hear the bubbles rumbling through his tummy. Other times, more than an hour after I have laid him down and thought he was asleep, I'll go in and check on him only to find that he is wide awake and "thinking." Consequently, he has become a self burper! It's really funny! He'll be eating right along and then back off a little, burp, and get right back to eating.

Sunday night we were at our friends' house and I looked over to see David staring at the top of Isaac's head. He said, "Look." And I looked over to see his heartbeat in the soft spot on the top of his head. It was really crazy! Oh the fun things you don't think about getting to see when you're a parent.

As I said before -- I am in love with my family: David, Isaac, and Abigail. They steal my heart day after day, over and over again!