Monitor Mayhem

I used to be a hard sleeper. As in, prop me up against the wall and I could probably get a full 8 hours of sleep. Heck, I slept an entire winter outside in below-freezing temperatures while surrounded by ten shoeless, at-risk teenage girls and never missed a wink.
Not anymore.
Since we brought Noah home I have had this slight concern about how far his room is from ours. Granted, our house isn't THAT big, but his room is all the way across the house, with two thick wood doors between us at night. Hence, why he slept in our room until just after Christmas. I was the one not ready for the transition, he did great (as he does with just about everything). And I was really starting to get used to it. Chris and I really enjoy having our room to ourselves again so our nightly routine could commence.

Get your minds out of the gutter.

We like to read favorite books together and have long conversations. About dreams and goals. About the future. About how we have the cutest little guy ever. Ever.

All was well, we were getting back to normal. And getting some sleep. Until last night.

Noah went down around 9pm and we followed around 10:30pm. This is a new bedtime for him, he had been going to bed around 11pm (or later some nights) and we were beginning to think we were raising a teenager already. That being said, with the adjustment he's been waking around 3am to eat and then goes right back down. I know he will eventually just drop the 3am feeding, since he had previously been sleeping from 11pm-9am, it's just a matter of adjusting.

So we turned on the monitor and hit the hay. Or so we thought.

I stirred around 3am, as my body is used to this, and no noise from little guy. I rolled over and went back to sleep.

I stirred again around 6am, no noise from little guy. I rolled over, but couldn't go back to sleep. Something didn't feel right. Something didn't sound right. I couldn't hear him sleeping on the monitor. So I tried to convince myself, in a sleepy daze, that I was over-thinking things, that this was probably Noah getting back to sleeping through the night. I laid there a little longer, 20 minutes or so, and just couldn't shake the thought that something wasn't right. Something didn't sound right. I couldn't hear the hum of the monitor.

I couldn't hear the hum of the monitor.

I quickly hopped out of bed, went over to the monitor, and sure enough, nothing. No noise. Nothing. The green light was on but there was no static, no white noise. Nothing.

Remember, it's now 6:30am, he normally stirs around 3am. You can imagine the thoughts running through my head. With cat-like speed I scurry to his room to find him on his back (other mama's, don't freak out, but we sleep him on his tummy because he breathes better) squealing, not upset, just making noise. I scoop him up and take him back to our room. He eats for about 15 minutes and dozes right on back to sleep. Like the amazing baby he is.

I will never know what happened between the hours of 3am and 6:30am. I can only hope that he just slept on through because I would have never heard him if he was crying. I will tell myself that he was happy, talking and singing to himself like he usually does. That's the story I am going with.

But the huge wet spot in his crib from drool and probably (sigh) tears may prove otherwise.

Poor baby.

Something Profound

I have no idea what I want to ramble about today.
But I feel like rambling.
I read others' blogs and envy their life. Their ramblings. Their freedom.
Freedom.
I wouldn't trade my life for anything else in the world. Ever. I love my husband. I love our baby. I love our ministry. I love our family and friends. I love our pup. I love our situation. I realize how fortunate I am to have the life that I do. But I miss my freedom sometimes.

Freedom to:
- Sleep in if I want to (not with a 4 month old singing in his bed at 7:30am)
- Take a shower without a whole lot of thought/planning
- Pursue endeavors on a whim
- Support people I love and what they do
- Have a bigger budget (would it then be a budget?)
- Read a book for more than 15 minutes, uninterrupted
- Start and complete a project in the same day
- Randomly road trip. Anywhere. Anytime.
- Follow ambitions. Photography. Sewing. Coffee Shops.
- Make a difference for others. Peace. Love. Hope.

I could still do those things. Well, maybe only a few.
I know that God is bigger than me and bigger than the limits I put on myself. The question is where do I start and how? I would trade the sleeping and showering to be a part of something bigger, something significant. It's as though, at times, I have too many options of where I can pour my energy and passion. Right now, a little fella about 2 feet tall consumes the majority of that energy and passion, which is fine by me. He can have all of me and my love as long as he lets me share it with his daddy. I just yearn to do more. To be more. Do I better myself at the things I know how to do? Or do I take on something new, a random adventure, and hope that it works out? Will it be fulfilling or will it just fill my time?

To fill or fulfill, that is the question.

It's like spring cleaning. You try to get all of the unnecessary junk out of your closets, cabinets, storage bins. You either give it away to someone who could use it more, love it more, need it more or you throw it away if it's no longer any use to anyone (like those select articles of clothing you've been carrying around since high school that will NEVER fit again, time to pass those on). I think I need to do a figurative "spring cleaning" of the things that clutter my life. It seems I try to dabble in too much, and it all ends up being mediocre. Blah.
I want to be great at something. It's like I can't focus on any one thing. You should see our house. Sewing projects. Photo projects. Crochet project. Cleaning (not my fave) projects. Organization projects. All undone. Unfinished. Unraveled?
I mean, read this post again. It's all over the place.
Much like my life.

I suppose I should be thankful. Thankful I can be selfish; though I should not be so selfish, I can be if I want to. And I am. Thankful and selfish.

For this:

And this:

This too:

Her, too:

These as well:

 And especially this:

And for all the things and people these represent.

And for all the things they don't.

Baby Wine-O?

Noah is taking after his Ford side of the family and their love for a good glass of wine a LITTLE young. Maybe its the bright, shiny glass. Maybe it's the glass' resemblance to his (ahem) current feeding vessels. Maybe he just has good taste.

Peek-a-Boo

Cutest laughing baby ever. Seriously. Ever.

 

Spare Time

Spare time... is that a joke?
Anyway.
I have been trying my hand at sewing projects, to learn more and hopefully get better. I have been toying with the idea of trying to find local co-ops that would sell my projects or even putting together an etsy site. That would require me to come up with some sort of catchy name for my stuff, and right now that seems overwhelming. Any thoughts?

I wouldn't say that I am GOOD yet, but I am getting better. I mean, I would buy what I make, but I am also not a hard-to-please person. My labors-of-love have a handcrafted look to them and I try to make each one unique.Something about someone putting time and care into their creation makes it that much more beautiful, and in my eyes, so much more valuable. But that's just me.

As our budget allows I hope to expand my horizons, but for now it's what I can find on clearance or the remnants bin. I think I have been pretty successful so far with what I've worked with. I bought 8 yards of felt for less than $10. Not too shabby. Here are a few samples of what I've started putting together:

 

 Green Flower

Black BubbleTree

The Fight

Over the past three months Chris and I have been kicking butt and taking names of people/places who like to disrupt a sleeping baby. Okay, maybe not kicking butt, but definitely taking names. It's been mostly during our travels to here, there, and everywhere when Noah has just nodded off or we are counting down exits to our final destination and BUMP BANG BUMP. Daggum. There is also the occasional individual contributor who lets out a HOOT or HOLLAR equaling a waking baby. Daggum.

Joining the Fight: (if you are on the list, we still love you even if you are loud at times):
* Departments of Transportation (of several states) & your road work
     - Georgia
     - Alabama
     - Florida
     - South Carolina
* Wal-Mart and your bumpy ground outside the front entrance
* Matthew Cushing with your love and devotion to Alabama football (you've improved from SEC to BCS)
* Gramma Nan with your excitement for Florida State football
* Papa Bowen with your home improvements (much appreciated and welcome anytime)

And when you are tempted, just remember this face:

And know that this one is taking names, and just might start kicking butt:

Birmingham Bliss

On our way back from Pensacola for Turkey Day, we stopped in Birmingham so Noah could meet his Uncle Sean & Aunt Jen, the first of friends/family we've asked to be his godparents! Sean and Chris grew up going to camp together at Camp Weed, were college roommates at Florida State (where Chris successfully caused the break of Sean's wrist), were in each others' weddings, and in many ways are soul mates...not joking. I've never been around two guys who love each other more than these two. Regardless of how much time has passed, which is usually too much, it's as though they just saw each other yesterday, never missed a beat.  Sometimes Sean gets better embraces than me...And Jen, Sean's awesome wife, I met when Chris and I first started dating in 2006, and she was very welcoming and so comfortable to be around in the new (sometimes overwhelming) group of folks I was spending time with. I rather enjoy her sweet and gentle spirit and the laughs we've all shared. They are a lot like us in the way that they are boy/girl versions of each other, love each other with passion, are kids in adult bodies, love to have fun and laugh, value family and friends, and we know they will love Noah as he grows up. We are honored that they accepted our request to play lead roles in our little guy's life and to be a part of our crazy family (not that we didn't already consider them family). We look forward to making many more, and more frequent, memories with them. Here's to the Palmers and the joy you bring to our life, for which we are eternally grateful:

 

You have no idea what we went through to get these photos...

You see, Sean doesn't like to keep his eyes open...

By the way, Sean will now be further referred to as "The Godfather", hence the face in the last picture.