Draw the curtains, nail down the blinds

We have a unique living situation. As you all probably already know, we sold our house at the beginning of March. Currently we are renting a house. We are renting it on a "campus." That's about as specific as I'd like to be with our living location and broadcasting it to the interweb, so if you know where we live I'd appreciate the ambiguity as well in your comments.

The reason I'm bringing it up today is because at this very moment, right outside my front door is this:


Yes. Three HUGE inflatable bouncehouses/slides. Where we live they are celebrating. A celebration that only takes place every 5 years, to my understanding. Which means, it's a BIG celebration.

And, we are not really invited to play on those lovely, fun, totally-would-wear-my-kids-out toys that are RIGHT OUTSIDE OUR FRONT DOOR. Yes, that's our lawn furniture and toys laying in the grass. Squeals and laughter are echoing through our house as the sounds of children enjoying themselves on these bounceable toys. And, there's a band playing somewhere on the not so distant lawn.

Those things pretty much make our RRIAP look like a deflated kiddie pool.

Wow. I've never drawn our blinds so tightly as I am today. I think I'll blindfold my kids and carry them out to the van 1 by 1 and leave for the entire afternoon. Thanks to a friend who will make that possible by loaning us her house this afternoon.

I sure hope no one gets the bright idea to look out the window. Something tells me I'll be playing zone defense this morning, with my zone being all the windows/doors on the front side of our house.

Bring on the meltdowns.

Her First Day

Today my 16 year old sister begins her first day of her junior year of high school. Just writing that sentence blows me away because in my mind she will always be 5 years old and look exactly like this:

I know. Kids all over the country are beginning school this week so what makes my sister so special? What makes her first day of her junior year more significant than most 16 year old girls?

Today is the first day that she will go to school without her mother alive. Today is the first day that she will realize that she is not like all the other girls anymore. When other 16 year old girls complain about fights with their moms, her heart will feel that twinge of pain and she will be reminded that she doesn't have that luxury. While other girls are reassured by their mothers that their outfit does indeed look great, she will stare at herself in the mirror and have to reassure herself. When she walks down the halls she will surely pass the nurse's office where her mother used to work. She will be reminded that her mom is no longer just a few doors away. Memories of her mom, her best friend, will flood her heart and mind, no doubt.

Today my sister becomes a woman in so many ways. Today she faces giants that seem to loom in the distance. Today she faces fears that I could never imagine. Today she faces life without her best friend.

Please be in prayer for my sister today. I cannot tell you how proud I am of the young woman that she is becoming. However, this year will prove to be the biggest test of her faith. If you have a few moments, won't you beseech the Wonderful Counselor on her behalf?

Thank you friends. Thank you so very much.

But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength.
They will soar high on wings like eagles.
They will run and not grow weary.
They will walk and not faint.

Isaiah 40:31

Colic

Dictionary.com defines colic as "A condition of unknown cause seen in infants less than three months old, marked by periods of inconsolable crying lasting for hours at a time for at least three weeks."

WebMD.com says it's "A healthy, well-fed infant who cries for more than three hours per day, for more than three days per week, for more than three weeks."

In our house, we define it as "Baby D from 6pm-12am."

A week ago, Tuesday, Baby D began his tirade of crying. It began at about 2:00pm and didn't stop until 8:30pm. Until that point, Baby D had been the easiest baby. In fact, he was so easy that it was almost like having a little babydoll. I could cuddle him when I felt like it, and if I was busy with the big kids I could put him on the floor beside me or in the swing and he'd be just as content. He only really became upset when he as hungry. Since Tuesday, July 29th our good-natured baby has been swapped for the colicky, preciousness of our new Baby D. The biggest difference?...A red face and ear piercing wails.

Seriously, Baby D has been sooooooooo fussy. During the day he usually only has 1 major spell. At night, however, it's another story. It usually begins anywhere from 6-7pm and can last up to 4 to 5 hours (he's not crying the ENTIRE time, we get 10-15 minute breaks before the next bought begins). Initially I called the doctor, worried that something was going on. They dismissed it as gas, especially since a bath almost always calms him down.

None of my other 3 were ever colicky, so this is a HUGE adjustment. It doesn't help that his "episodes" are during the most hectic part of our day: bath and bedtime. The big kids need our full attention and unfortunately one of us is almost always tied up with a screaming, trembling, red-faced baby.

We go to the doctor on Thursday and I plan on asking about a new type of formula, however, from everything I've read they'll probably just tell me to ride it out. They say it won't last longer than 3-4 months of age. What they don't realize is that this last 1 1/2 weeks has seemed like a month. It's so incredibly frustrating to watch Baby D in such pain and be unable to do ANYTHING to console him. Kisses, hugs, swaddling, gas meds, swinging, outside, walking, bouncing, singing, pacifiers, bottles...nothing helps. At some point we fall back on a nice warm bath, but at the end of it we're back to a screaming, ticked off baby.

As I bounce, rock, walk and snuggle Baby D during the most frustrating of times, God continues to bring James 1:2 to my mind:

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds,

The part that frustrates me the most is that I don't think the birth parents have the slightest clue about his colic. After each visit, I ask the social worker "So, how was it?" Each time they respond, "Great!" I keep waiting for one of them to say, "Oh he cried the entire visit. It's so unlike him."

Part of me wants him to cry the entire visit, just so they have a taste. Part of me wants him to cry so much that they hurry up and decide that they can't manage it and relinquish. Part of me wants him to be so horrible, that 20 minutes into the visit they ask the social worker to take him and leave. God has not answered that prayer yet. I guess He thinks He knows better than me...humf! In the meantime, I'll consider it pure joy...consider it joy.