Some of you may have noticed that I don't make a habit of posting tons of pictures of Declan. This isn't because I don't take them, or even that I don't think to, but because every time I see something I want to capture and share, I'm a little disappointed when I look at the picture staring back up at me.
The number of times I see something in Declan that I want to capture-- to freeze and pocket and hold onto forever-- is not quantifiable. From the moment he was born, I've been trying to let other people see what I see when I look at my son; but I've given up.
Because I'm his Mommy, and it's the best thing I've ever been. Because I'm his Mommy, and I think that means I get a window into the stolen precious moments God weaved into him before birth.
I don't post pictures of the way his hair curls around his ears when it's humid out, because you won't see it like I do. I don't post pictures of the way he tilts his whole head back when he smiles.
I can't post a picture of the elated look of relief he gives me when I pick him up from the church nursery, or the way he bounces up and down in his crib when I walk into his room.
A video won't let you hear his laugh like I hear it-- so intense sometimes that he actually cries and has to stop to catch his breath.
You'll never get to see understanding dawn in his eyes when he learns something new. Not like I do.
Because I'm his Mommy, and it's the best thing I've ever been.
Part of me delights in this-- is happy that these things are all mine. But a bigger part of me panics when I realize time doesn't stop for these moments-- time doesn't stop for anything.
And I know my memory will not go untouched or untainted by time's grip. And that one day these things won't be vivid in my mind like they are today. That one day he'll give that flirty grin to the woman he'll marry, and that the hand he reaches for when he's scared won't be mine.
So when I take a picture, almost greedy, almost hoping I can just keep one of these moments, I'm always disappointed.
And I don't even try anymore, because it's time wasted-- time I won't get back.
I can't hold onto these things anymore than I can hold onto water with my bare hands; but I can drink as deeply as I can while the moments still linger.
Happy Mother's Day to all you Moms who know what I'm talking about.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Friday, May 10, 2013
The Time Declan Was Almost Initiated Into A Sorority
A couple of weeks ago, Matt and I decided to take Declan to Virginia Tech's annual spring football game. It's essentially a glorified scrimage, but it was a good opportunity to hang out with some friends, enjoy great weather, and get Declan into the stadium for free. (They charge full ticket price during the regular season, which is kind of ridiculous to me.)
We were lucky enough to find parking only a few minute's walk from the stadium, which doesn't always happen, but we were a little late, so decided to take a short cut. This short cut happened to lead us right by your typical beat down, party on the lawn, bass shaking the windows type sorority house. (Or maybe it wasn't a sorority house, but there was definitely a pretty wild sorority party taking place.)
I guess they were just extremely exuberant for the spring game (again, glorified scrimage) because these girls were holding nothing back. And there seemed to be no shortage of a certain type of beverage, either. I jokingly (but not really, I was serious) told Matt that I doubted any of these people were planning on attending the game.
And I was right, because as we made our way back to the car, they were still there-- and the crowd was growing. We're having a little bit of a laugh about this until I see them-- two entirely inebriated stumbling across the street toward the house. We keep walking, only a few yards away from passing the house when one of them spots Declan who, in all fairness, was looking quite dashing that day.
It was like a tribal call: "Baaaaabyyyyyy!"
And that was all it took for about three or four of them to flock toward us. We tried to sidestep them, but to no avail. The only way to describe these girls are as follows: Drunk, Drunker, Drunkest, and How Are You Still Upright?
How Are You Still Upright: I love your baby. Like, LOVE your baby.
Me: Thanks. Me too.
Drunker: Seriously, cutest baby I've ever seen in my life.
Drunkest: Yeah, she's gorgeous.
Me: He's pretty cute.
How Are You Still Upright: Oh it's a he, guys, it's a HE.
She reaches a hand out to touch his face, at this point, and the only reason I don't stop her is because I'm busy contemplating the best ways to break her wrist if need be. She actually reaches toward Matt as if to take him from her arms, and I'm about to throw down, when fortunately Drunk steps in.
Drunk: You are NOT picking up that baby, How Are You Still Standing.
How Are You Still Standing: (annoyed) I wasn't. I babysit, so I'm good. You don't have to worry.
And she says this like, five more times, as she continues to attempt to pet Declan's hair. Fortunately, I think her depth perception was off, because she's basically stroking the air.
How Are You Still Standing: Seriously, the girl I watch is (does a mental calculation) eleven months old? Yeah. So, yeah, I babysit. I'm serious.
Honestly, I hope you're not serious because that means, A) you're frequently in charge of another human life and, B) someone trusted you enough to put you in charge of a human life. This does little to put my mind at ease.
Drunk: So are you guys Hokies?
Me: He is, I'm not. (I'm just going to start telling people I am when they ask; they'll like me more.)
Drunk: Oh okay, but, like, you like, GET IT, right? I mean, you GET IT?
That you're drunk? Yes, got that a few minutes ago.
Me: Yep, I love it here.
Drunk: (think valley girl accent) Yeah, I love it here. I (expletive) love.it.here. And, like, I have to marry a TECH MAN (eyeballs Matt, who is holding Declan in one arm and my hand with the other.)
Me: Yeah... me too.
Drunkest: But like seriously--
Me: Well, we're going to go
Drunkest: Love your baby. She's so cute.
How Are You Still Standing is supremely confused-- she looks like she has already forgotten our entire conversation, and is unsure of who we are. She moves as if to hug us, but we make our move and she misses.
How Are You Still Standing: Bye. Love you guys!
And that is how Declan was almost initiated into a sorority.
And also why he won't be going to college.
We were lucky enough to find parking only a few minute's walk from the stadium, which doesn't always happen, but we were a little late, so decided to take a short cut. This short cut happened to lead us right by your typical beat down, party on the lawn, bass shaking the windows type sorority house. (Or maybe it wasn't a sorority house, but there was definitely a pretty wild sorority party taking place.)
I guess they were just extremely exuberant for the spring game (again, glorified scrimage) because these girls were holding nothing back. And there seemed to be no shortage of a certain type of beverage, either. I jokingly (but not really, I was serious) told Matt that I doubted any of these people were planning on attending the game.
And I was right, because as we made our way back to the car, they were still there-- and the crowd was growing. We're having a little bit of a laugh about this until I see them-- two entirely inebriated stumbling across the street toward the house. We keep walking, only a few yards away from passing the house when one of them spots Declan who, in all fairness, was looking quite dashing that day.
It was like a tribal call: "Baaaaabyyyyyy!"
And that was all it took for about three or four of them to flock toward us. We tried to sidestep them, but to no avail. The only way to describe these girls are as follows: Drunk, Drunker, Drunkest, and How Are You Still Upright?
How Are You Still Upright: I love your baby. Like, LOVE your baby.
Me: Thanks. Me too.
Drunker: Seriously, cutest baby I've ever seen in my life.
Drunkest: Yeah, she's gorgeous.
Me: He's pretty cute.
How Are You Still Upright: Oh it's a he, guys, it's a HE.
She reaches a hand out to touch his face, at this point, and the only reason I don't stop her is because I'm busy contemplating the best ways to break her wrist if need be. She actually reaches toward Matt as if to take him from her arms, and I'm about to throw down, when fortunately Drunk steps in.
Drunk: You are NOT picking up that baby, How Are You Still Standing.
How Are You Still Standing: (annoyed) I wasn't. I babysit, so I'm good. You don't have to worry.
And she says this like, five more times, as she continues to attempt to pet Declan's hair. Fortunately, I think her depth perception was off, because she's basically stroking the air.
How Are You Still Standing: Seriously, the girl I watch is (does a mental calculation) eleven months old? Yeah. So, yeah, I babysit. I'm serious.
Honestly, I hope you're not serious because that means, A) you're frequently in charge of another human life and, B) someone trusted you enough to put you in charge of a human life. This does little to put my mind at ease.
Drunk: So are you guys Hokies?
Me: He is, I'm not. (I'm just going to start telling people I am when they ask; they'll like me more.)
Drunk: Oh okay, but, like, you like, GET IT, right? I mean, you GET IT?
That you're drunk? Yes, got that a few minutes ago.
Me: Yep, I love it here.
Drunk: (think valley girl accent) Yeah, I love it here. I (expletive) love.it.here. And, like, I have to marry a TECH MAN (eyeballs Matt, who is holding Declan in one arm and my hand with the other.)
Me: Yeah... me too.
Drunkest: But like seriously--
Me: Well, we're going to go
Drunkest: Love your baby. She's so cute.
How Are You Still Standing is supremely confused-- she looks like she has already forgotten our entire conversation, and is unsure of who we are. She moves as if to hug us, but we make our move and she misses.
How Are You Still Standing: Bye. Love you guys!
And that is how Declan was almost initiated into a sorority.
And also why he won't be going to college.
Monday, April 8, 2013
Where Does The Time Go?
As the weather starts to warm up (although in VA it doesn't 'start to warm up' as much as it goes from snowing to 75 within 24 hours) I can't help but remember this time last year.
We'd just gotten back from a crazy trip up north-- one that involved an ambulance transfer to Boston and a 2 day stint at Tufts Medical Center-- and were praying for the safe arrival of our baby boy.
He's currently napping upstairs in his crib... (Well, he's actually screaming bloody murder, but he's safe and healthy.) I know that not all of my friends believe this has anything to do with the power of prayer, or with the providence of God, but I do, and I'm thankful every day for it. Matt and I spent seven months of our pregnancy worrying that something was going to be wrong with Declan. We only had two positive reports throughout the pregnancy, and I had two ultrasounds every month. I'm sure I'd feel grateful for a healthy baby even without such a scary pregnancy, but every day I see him learning and growing, my heart glows. I wasn't sure if we'd get to see him doing the things he's doing.
Already he's taking steps (definitely wouldn't call it walking-- he looks like he just got off the Mayflower when he does it), climbing on anything and everything, mimicking the sounds Matt and I make, feeding himself finger foods, clapping his hands when he's excited, putting toys back into his toy box when he doesn't want them (this is really funny to see), and using "nice hands" with our kitty. (He's not using nice hands with my hair yet, but we'll get there.)
The people at his pediatrician's office finally learned how to pronounce his name. (Well, all except one of the doctors, who refers to Declan as 'Butterball.' Not sure if that's affectionate or an indicator that Declan needs to be eating less.)
He's fast approaching his first birthday, and today is just one of those days when I wonder where the time went. I am proud of our Love Bug and thankful to the Lord for all He's done for us!
We'd just gotten back from a crazy trip up north-- one that involved an ambulance transfer to Boston and a 2 day stint at Tufts Medical Center-- and were praying for the safe arrival of our baby boy.
He's currently napping upstairs in his crib... (Well, he's actually screaming bloody murder, but he's safe and healthy.) I know that not all of my friends believe this has anything to do with the power of prayer, or with the providence of God, but I do, and I'm thankful every day for it. Matt and I spent seven months of our pregnancy worrying that something was going to be wrong with Declan. We only had two positive reports throughout the pregnancy, and I had two ultrasounds every month. I'm sure I'd feel grateful for a healthy baby even without such a scary pregnancy, but every day I see him learning and growing, my heart glows. I wasn't sure if we'd get to see him doing the things he's doing.
Already he's taking steps (definitely wouldn't call it walking-- he looks like he just got off the Mayflower when he does it), climbing on anything and everything, mimicking the sounds Matt and I make, feeding himself finger foods, clapping his hands when he's excited, putting toys back into his toy box when he doesn't want them (this is really funny to see), and using "nice hands" with our kitty. (He's not using nice hands with my hair yet, but we'll get there.)
The people at his pediatrician's office finally learned how to pronounce his name. (Well, all except one of the doctors, who refers to Declan as 'Butterball.' Not sure if that's affectionate or an indicator that Declan needs to be eating less.)
He's fast approaching his first birthday, and today is just one of those days when I wonder where the time went. I am proud of our Love Bug and thankful to the Lord for all He's done for us!
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
The Christian Culture Phenomenon
Something that I've become increasingly aware of since leaving the "Liberty Bubble" is the fact that, in many ways, I've been more a member of Christian culture than a member of the Church for much of my walk with Christ. I've hopped on board the devotionals, charity efforts, new music, and lexicon like the rest of my Christian peer group only to see that, in retrospect, many of these things were trends-- fads that perhaps started out being about Jesus but ended up being about Christian culture.
Since leaving college, I've attended two churches-- neither of which are contemporary in nature, and neither of which are chalk full of other people my age. The result has been really interesting. In some ways I feel like my faith has suffered as a result; contemporary music connects with me so much more than hymns. I'm not sure why, but it just does. There are some weeks where I go an entire service without really paying attention to a word I've sung. In that regard, I miss being in a contemporary church. In many more ways, however, the experience has been invaluably eye opening.
My pastor does not preach from a stool, basking underneath a smokey purple hue on a stage, latte in one hand and ipad in the other. The people who sit in the pew behind me are, on average, at least twenty years older than I am. There is a box of donuts sitting in the foyer as opposed to a cafe. The people who make the most effort to connect with the college group are grandparents. The only context in which I see an acoustic guitar is in my office collecting dust.
When somebody gives a mission report at our church, they're not wearing cutoff jeans or a backpack, and they're not sporting some trendy tattoo or piercing that screams "look, I've assimilated into another culture! you wouldn't get it." They don't talk about how they "loved on kids" (because trendy Christians can't simply say "loved" without a preposition immediately following), or how they experienced some really big "God things."
The absence of all of these things has really made me see that while I was in the presence of them, I was more concerned with "Jesus culture" (pretty sure the Biblical term for this is actually the church, but hey, you just do you) than I was with Jesus. And to be honest, I can kind of see why the rest of the world gets a little annoyed with "Jesus culture" at times.
Let me be clear, I'm not attempting to say that the things I've described so far are wrong, or that they don't have a place in the Church, because that's not my point. I think the point I'm trying to make is that these things, while they're permitted in the church, AREN'T the Church. And if you're unable to worship without them, you're probably not really worshiping in the first place.
It's getting under my skin more and more to see posts on facebook or twitter about rallying behind big causes, not because doing so is wrong, but because I get the feeling most of the people who are "disappearing for a day" from facebook in honor of those in slavery (that'll show 'em!) are really only doing so because some pastor at some conference caused an emotional reaction, and plus all you're friends are doing it too. It's not wrong to start caring about a cause because somebody brought it to your attention, but it is wrong to just hop on a bandwagon. Are you contributing to causes like these because the Holy Spirit has convicted you to, or to make yourself feel good about the things you're doing? It's a fine line.
And all of these catch phrases are driving me crazy. "Love God, love people." Okay, I get it, you've minimized Luke 10:27 to make it bumper sticker worthy, but in doing so, you've also minimized the charge of the Gospel; is that really something you feel comfortable doing? If the Bible was supposed to fit on a bumper sticker (not even a long one-- one of those new oval ones you can stick on your back window) I don't think God would have taken as long as He did to compile the thing. Sorry to have wasted your time, canonization committee, but we're going in a different direction. Bright side: we'll send you a T-shirt.
We've taken the Christianity of the Bible and turned it into a culture. And some people are able to exist in this culture and still pursue the teachings of the Bible-- which is great-- but many more are not. Many more come through the doors of the church and leave without ever really knowing what the Bible actually says.
Something I miss about the north is the fact that people who said they were Christians actually followed Christ, and the people who didn't just didn't. There was no confusion about. There were very few people who were convinced they were following after Jesus when, in all reality, they were playing "Chubby Bunny" at youth group.
So in all that, I guess my point is not to let anything hinder you from pursuing Christ-- not even His people.
Since leaving college, I've attended two churches-- neither of which are contemporary in nature, and neither of which are chalk full of other people my age. The result has been really interesting. In some ways I feel like my faith has suffered as a result; contemporary music connects with me so much more than hymns. I'm not sure why, but it just does. There are some weeks where I go an entire service without really paying attention to a word I've sung. In that regard, I miss being in a contemporary church. In many more ways, however, the experience has been invaluably eye opening.
My pastor does not preach from a stool, basking underneath a smokey purple hue on a stage, latte in one hand and ipad in the other. The people who sit in the pew behind me are, on average, at least twenty years older than I am. There is a box of donuts sitting in the foyer as opposed to a cafe. The people who make the most effort to connect with the college group are grandparents. The only context in which I see an acoustic guitar is in my office collecting dust.
When somebody gives a mission report at our church, they're not wearing cutoff jeans or a backpack, and they're not sporting some trendy tattoo or piercing that screams "look, I've assimilated into another culture! you wouldn't get it." They don't talk about how they "loved on kids" (because trendy Christians can't simply say "loved" without a preposition immediately following), or how they experienced some really big "God things."
The absence of all of these things has really made me see that while I was in the presence of them, I was more concerned with "Jesus culture" (pretty sure the Biblical term for this is actually the church, but hey, you just do you) than I was with Jesus. And to be honest, I can kind of see why the rest of the world gets a little annoyed with "Jesus culture" at times.
Let me be clear, I'm not attempting to say that the things I've described so far are wrong, or that they don't have a place in the Church, because that's not my point. I think the point I'm trying to make is that these things, while they're permitted in the church, AREN'T the Church. And if you're unable to worship without them, you're probably not really worshiping in the first place.
It's getting under my skin more and more to see posts on facebook or twitter about rallying behind big causes, not because doing so is wrong, but because I get the feeling most of the people who are "disappearing for a day" from facebook in honor of those in slavery (that'll show 'em!) are really only doing so because some pastor at some conference caused an emotional reaction, and plus all you're friends are doing it too. It's not wrong to start caring about a cause because somebody brought it to your attention, but it is wrong to just hop on a bandwagon. Are you contributing to causes like these because the Holy Spirit has convicted you to, or to make yourself feel good about the things you're doing? It's a fine line.
And all of these catch phrases are driving me crazy. "Love God, love people." Okay, I get it, you've minimized Luke 10:27 to make it bumper sticker worthy, but in doing so, you've also minimized the charge of the Gospel; is that really something you feel comfortable doing? If the Bible was supposed to fit on a bumper sticker (not even a long one-- one of those new oval ones you can stick on your back window) I don't think God would have taken as long as He did to compile the thing. Sorry to have wasted your time, canonization committee, but we're going in a different direction. Bright side: we'll send you a T-shirt.
We've taken the Christianity of the Bible and turned it into a culture. And some people are able to exist in this culture and still pursue the teachings of the Bible-- which is great-- but many more are not. Many more come through the doors of the church and leave without ever really knowing what the Bible actually says.
Something I miss about the north is the fact that people who said they were Christians actually followed Christ, and the people who didn't just didn't. There was no confusion about. There were very few people who were convinced they were following after Jesus when, in all reality, they were playing "Chubby Bunny" at youth group.
So in all that, I guess my point is not to let anything hinder you from pursuing Christ-- not even His people.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Just An Update
Hello all!
Declan is finally napping for the first time today, my classes for the semester wrapped up yesterday, and I finally have a free moment to update on life.
We've been pretty busy lately, but, honestly, who isn't these days? Easter is fast approaching, which means we're getting ready for some much looked forward to time on Cape with my family. It's crazy to think that the last time everyone from that neck of the woods saw Tutter, he'd just gotten proper head control. Now he's crawling all over the place and even trying to walk.
Having a mobile baby is an incredibly scary thing. I kind of joke about not being excited about his first steps, which obviously isn't true. I'm so proud of my little guy and am in awe of the way he's grown in the past eight months. (Let's be honest, I'm in awe of the fact that neither Matt nor I have broken him yet.) But in all seriousness, there's a part of me that just isn't ready for him to be moving as much as he is. Praise the Lord we decided to convert our dining room into a play area, because without that I shudder to think of the kind of trouble he'd find around the house.
I keep having nightmares that he's crawling around the kitchen, chewing on bottles of Windex and pressing his hands to a hot oven. I guess it's time to baby proof... which leads me to our next piece of big news.
We're moving! (Again...) At least this time I'm not 8.5 months pregnant. It was something we prayed about doing in January, quickly decided it wasn't a good time for us, and then re-considered again when we found the right house. It's newly renovated, has a new kitchen, and 4 bedrooms. The biggest bonus is the fact that it allows us to reduce our monthly payments by a significant amount. If all goes well, we'll hopefully close by April and slowly start the moving process. (The last time for at LEAST five years, thankfully!) We feel really blessed that God opened this opportunity up for us. Needless to say, this house is a good deal more baby-friendly than the one we're renting currently, and we'll be able to baby proof once we start moving in.
Declan is now awake and wants to say hi: yunnyn
Words of wisdom.
As he is now currently wobbling around the playroom like he recently got off the Mayflower, I'd better go assist him (find a helmet that fits him).
Declan is finally napping for the first time today, my classes for the semester wrapped up yesterday, and I finally have a free moment to update on life.
We've been pretty busy lately, but, honestly, who isn't these days? Easter is fast approaching, which means we're getting ready for some much looked forward to time on Cape with my family. It's crazy to think that the last time everyone from that neck of the woods saw Tutter, he'd just gotten proper head control. Now he's crawling all over the place and even trying to walk.
Having a mobile baby is an incredibly scary thing. I kind of joke about not being excited about his first steps, which obviously isn't true. I'm so proud of my little guy and am in awe of the way he's grown in the past eight months. (Let's be honest, I'm in awe of the fact that neither Matt nor I have broken him yet.) But in all seriousness, there's a part of me that just isn't ready for him to be moving as much as he is. Praise the Lord we decided to convert our dining room into a play area, because without that I shudder to think of the kind of trouble he'd find around the house.
I keep having nightmares that he's crawling around the kitchen, chewing on bottles of Windex and pressing his hands to a hot oven. I guess it's time to baby proof... which leads me to our next piece of big news.
We're moving! (Again...) At least this time I'm not 8.5 months pregnant. It was something we prayed about doing in January, quickly decided it wasn't a good time for us, and then re-considered again when we found the right house. It's newly renovated, has a new kitchen, and 4 bedrooms. The biggest bonus is the fact that it allows us to reduce our monthly payments by a significant amount. If all goes well, we'll hopefully close by April and slowly start the moving process. (The last time for at LEAST five years, thankfully!) We feel really blessed that God opened this opportunity up for us. Needless to say, this house is a good deal more baby-friendly than the one we're renting currently, and we'll be able to baby proof once we start moving in.
Declan is now awake and wants to say hi: yunnyn
Words of wisdom.
As he is now currently wobbling around the playroom like he recently got off the Mayflower, I'd better go assist him (find a helmet that fits him).
Thursday, February 7, 2013
The Dunham Family Lexicon-- Declan Edition
Have you ever had a friend with whom you've almost developed your own vocabulary? And then you occasionally use terms from aforementioned private vocabulary in front of other people and they think you're crazy?
Me too. Except I'm married to that friend, and it dawned on me the other night, when we had a house full of people over for the Super Bowl, how incredibly ridiculous we must sound sometimes. This has always been a quirk in our relationship, but it has gotten like... fifty times more ridiculous since having a baby. I'm not sure why. Here are some of the following terms you may here in the Dunham household on a regular basis-- and these are just the ones that refer to Declan.
Bink That Baby: (verb) Refers to a time during which Declan is screaming, usually at the top of his lungs, and either Matt or I need to go put his binky back in his mouth. We'd hoped this term would eventually expire as Declan learned to Bink His Own Person, but now he's developed the habit of throwing his binky across the room.
Unbinkable: (adj... actually, technically it's a nominal, but whatever) Unbinkable is a state of being during which the baby in question (Declan) refuses to be soothed by his binky. Typically a baby is unbinkable because he is holding out for a bottle, or for Mommy cuddles. This manipulation tactic is ineffective on Daddy, but gets Mommy every time.
He's Been Raptured: Being Raptured refers to a time during which Declan has moved out of the camera's view in his crib. Very frequently we'll look at the video monitor and only see his binky. It looks like a cheesy scene from the Left Behind Series.
Tuttin' It Up: I'm not sure how this happened, but over a series of much evolution, Declan's nick name has become "Tutter." (i.e Tutter Butt, Tutter Butter). Kids do weird things to you-- that's my only defense. But I digress. "Tuttin' It Up" refers to the transition time between being put down for the first time and Bink That Baby time. Tuttin It Up is a happy time of much cooing, squealing, scratching the walls, chewing the crib bars, and just generally reveling in not napping. Never try to Bink That Baby while he's Tuttin' It Up; this is ineffective at best, and it will make a baby Unbinkable at worst.
Real Live Declan Toots: This pretty much just refers to Declan toots-- also known as a "false alarm." I'm not sure why we felt the need to modify this; it's not like he ever has tape delayed toots, but we always refer to it in this manner anyway.
Those are all the major key terms. Be prepared to hear them if you ever come over. I'm thinking of publishing pocket editions of this to hand out as door prizes upon entrance to our home.
Me too. Except I'm married to that friend, and it dawned on me the other night, when we had a house full of people over for the Super Bowl, how incredibly ridiculous we must sound sometimes. This has always been a quirk in our relationship, but it has gotten like... fifty times more ridiculous since having a baby. I'm not sure why. Here are some of the following terms you may here in the Dunham household on a regular basis-- and these are just the ones that refer to Declan.
Bink That Baby: (verb) Refers to a time during which Declan is screaming, usually at the top of his lungs, and either Matt or I need to go put his binky back in his mouth. We'd hoped this term would eventually expire as Declan learned to Bink His Own Person, but now he's developed the habit of throwing his binky across the room.
Unbinkable: (adj... actually, technically it's a nominal, but whatever) Unbinkable is a state of being during which the baby in question (Declan) refuses to be soothed by his binky. Typically a baby is unbinkable because he is holding out for a bottle, or for Mommy cuddles. This manipulation tactic is ineffective on Daddy, but gets Mommy every time.
He's Been Raptured: Being Raptured refers to a time during which Declan has moved out of the camera's view in his crib. Very frequently we'll look at the video monitor and only see his binky. It looks like a cheesy scene from the Left Behind Series.
Tuttin' It Up: I'm not sure how this happened, but over a series of much evolution, Declan's nick name has become "Tutter." (i.e Tutter Butt, Tutter Butter). Kids do weird things to you-- that's my only defense. But I digress. "Tuttin' It Up" refers to the transition time between being put down for the first time and Bink That Baby time. Tuttin It Up is a happy time of much cooing, squealing, scratching the walls, chewing the crib bars, and just generally reveling in not napping. Never try to Bink That Baby while he's Tuttin' It Up; this is ineffective at best, and it will make a baby Unbinkable at worst.
Real Live Declan Toots: This pretty much just refers to Declan toots-- also known as a "false alarm." I'm not sure why we felt the need to modify this; it's not like he ever has tape delayed toots, but we always refer to it in this manner anyway.
Those are all the major key terms. Be prepared to hear them if you ever come over. I'm thinking of publishing pocket editions of this to hand out as door prizes upon entrance to our home.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
The Weekend I Didn't Bubblewrap My Son
This weekend I have become very aware of the fact that God has taken me on an incredible journey throughout my Mommyhood thus far.
For example, yesterday afternoon I realized that Declan was probably getting sick. I knew this because my son, the Big Hungry, was content with only half of his usual hulk sized bottle. And then he didn't scream bloody murder for solid foods. To top that all off, he actually took a regular sized baby nap. So either somebody swapped my baby out for a fairly normal one, or DJ was feeling under the weather.
Matt laughs at me almost every time I decide to take Declan's temperature. In Matt's defense, this is because I took it so much during the first three month's of DJ's life that the poor thing was probably starting to think the thermometer was a permanent annex to his buttock region. Even Matt, however, was shocked to see that little digital number climb all the way to 102.6.
Now, keep in mind that the woman writing this is the same person who literally took Declan to the emergency room the first time he coughed and spiked a whopping fever of 99.4. So, the fact that I wasn't dousing Declan in ice water while calling for the ambulance is quite an accomplishment, in my opinion.
I did, however, call the after hours line at our pediatrician's office. In case you've never called an after hours line before, if you ever do, don't expect a concerned soul on the other line. I guess these people are probably used to frantic mothers calling about more pressing issues, but when I began explaining Declan's fever to the woman on the other line, she responded, in her charming chain-smoker tones with "I don't need to know that. Date of birth of the child?"
An hour later, I still hadn't heard from a doctor, who was supposedly going to call me back within the next half hour. So I called again.
Me: Hi, I called about an hour ago about my son, Declan, and I still haven't heard from a doctor. He has a pretty high fever, and it's still spiking, so--
Chain-smoking Call Center Girl: Still don't need to know. Repeat your number for me, and I'll send the page out again.
Two hours later, after still not hearing anything, I called again. Apparently enough time had elapsed that there was a shift change, because a fairly timid man picked up this time. I explained my situation again, not bothering to hide my distaste for the great raspy wonder I'd spoken to earlier, to which he replied, with fear in his voice, "Oh, you spoke to Clarrise, didn't you?"
When the doctor finally did call me back, I took her casual tone as affirmation that Declan was probably going to live and my mind was finally a bit more at ease.
So, in six short months I feel I have graduated from the "seriously considering bubble wrapping my son" club, to the "eh, rub some ibuprofen on it. He's fine" crowd. Oh how times change.
And, for the record, Declan is feeling much better today. I'm glad we saved ourselves that emergency room bill this time.
For example, yesterday afternoon I realized that Declan was probably getting sick. I knew this because my son, the Big Hungry, was content with only half of his usual hulk sized bottle. And then he didn't scream bloody murder for solid foods. To top that all off, he actually took a regular sized baby nap. So either somebody swapped my baby out for a fairly normal one, or DJ was feeling under the weather.
Matt laughs at me almost every time I decide to take Declan's temperature. In Matt's defense, this is because I took it so much during the first three month's of DJ's life that the poor thing was probably starting to think the thermometer was a permanent annex to his buttock region. Even Matt, however, was shocked to see that little digital number climb all the way to 102.6.
Now, keep in mind that the woman writing this is the same person who literally took Declan to the emergency room the first time he coughed and spiked a whopping fever of 99.4. So, the fact that I wasn't dousing Declan in ice water while calling for the ambulance is quite an accomplishment, in my opinion.
I did, however, call the after hours line at our pediatrician's office. In case you've never called an after hours line before, if you ever do, don't expect a concerned soul on the other line. I guess these people are probably used to frantic mothers calling about more pressing issues, but when I began explaining Declan's fever to the woman on the other line, she responded, in her charming chain-smoker tones with "I don't need to know that. Date of birth of the child?"
An hour later, I still hadn't heard from a doctor, who was supposedly going to call me back within the next half hour. So I called again.
Me: Hi, I called about an hour ago about my son, Declan, and I still haven't heard from a doctor. He has a pretty high fever, and it's still spiking, so--
Chain-smoking Call Center Girl: Still don't need to know. Repeat your number for me, and I'll send the page out again.
Two hours later, after still not hearing anything, I called again. Apparently enough time had elapsed that there was a shift change, because a fairly timid man picked up this time. I explained my situation again, not bothering to hide my distaste for the great raspy wonder I'd spoken to earlier, to which he replied, with fear in his voice, "Oh, you spoke to Clarrise, didn't you?"
When the doctor finally did call me back, I took her casual tone as affirmation that Declan was probably going to live and my mind was finally a bit more at ease.
So, in six short months I feel I have graduated from the "seriously considering bubble wrapping my son" club, to the "eh, rub some ibuprofen on it. He's fine" crowd. Oh how times change.
And, for the record, Declan is feeling much better today. I'm glad we saved ourselves that emergency room bill this time.
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