Childhood innocence? Hardly...

William Blake is famous for his Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience poetry. To give a simplified explanation of his views, I'd say that he believes children are born innocent, then life happens and they grow into experienced (and often bitter, cynical, jaded, corrupt) adults.

Blake is a gifted writer, but there's one thing I strongly disagree with him about (actually, there are several things, but we won't go into all of them right now). Children are so NOT innocent. They're little heathens. And my little sinner is already showing me evidence of the selfish human nature he was born with.

Today, for example, Perrin scooted himself across the floor and found my laptop power cord. He reached out for it to take a little taste, and I grabbed it away from him and said firmly, "No." We did this about five times, and when Perrin realized I really wasn't going to change my mind, he flopped on his back, threw his arms and legs out, and screamed as if I'd shot him with an arrow or something. (On a side note, I didn't think I'd have to deal with temper tantrums until he was at least two or so... I guess we're getting an early start. ::sigh::)

I know some people would say, "But he's just a baby; it's not like he knows that he's doing something wrong." That's sort of true. But he knew he wanted to eat the power cord. He knew I didn't want to let him eat the power cord. And he threw a fit because he didn't get his way. Does that sound innocent? I don't think so. Granted, in the grand scheme of things, it's not a big deal. But it's interesting to see that a baby who can't even walk or talk or feed himself can still exert his self-will.

I love my little sinner. He's cute and smart and wonderful. But he's not innocent.

When tragic things happen

A friend of mine lost her husband in a car accident a few days ago. She's a stay-at-home mom with a two-year-old boy and a three-month-old baby girl. I can't imagine what she's going through. She's not only grieving for herself, but for her children who will grow up without their father.

When I hear about things like this, I can't help but wonder what if that happens to me? I really have a hard time figuring out exactly how I should respond or what perspective I should have. I feel like I could never, ever go through something like that--I'm just not strong enough. And yet I know that God would give me supernatural strength to go through the pain, as I know He must be doing for Sabrina now. Still, who wants to have to go through anything that requires that kind of strength?

There's a verse in Ecclesiastes that says that the day of death is better than the day of birth. Truthfully, that verse used to really make me angry. How could a day of death be better than a day of birth? I think about the joy I had when Perrin was born, and I compare that to the sadness of a funeral. It's a clear choice in my mind.

But the verse goes on to say, "For death is the destiny of every man, and the living take it to heart." So that's the explanation: It's better to go "to a house of mourning than of feasting" because it makes us think about the temporary nature of life. Depressing? Yeah, most definitely, if you think that death is the end or if you're not sure what happens when you die. Otherwise, I think it helps us appreciate what we have in life now and be thankful that, in Christ, there really are no goodbyes.

God doesn't prevent every bad thing from happening. Tragedy is just part of living in a broken, fallen world. But as followers of Christ, we have the promise of comfort and strength to get through it now and the knowledge that one day "he will wipe every tear from our eyes." Not to mention that when bad things happen, God shows up in a mighty way. I'm thinking of some examples right now and smiling in amazement. I know God has some big plans for Sabrina. It's not the life she would have chosen, undoubtedly, but I know he'll use this in her life to bring about something good and beautiful.

We can't go through life always worrying about the "what ifs." It's tempting when we hear about tragedies like this to succumb to fear and wear helmets and bullet-proof vests and call our loved ones every five seconds when they're traveling to make sure they're still alive. But what kind of life is that?

I'm praying daily for Sabrina. She has a very tough road ahead of her. But I'm thankful she has a strong faith in the only one who can provide for her, protect her from a life of fear, and carry her through safely to the other side.

Lessons in crawling

Perrin is sooooo close to crawling. He pushes himself up on all fours and rocks back and forth like he's trying to figure out how to make his legs take him places. This past week, he figured out that he could push with his arms and slide himself backwards across our wood floors. So while I can't technically say he's crawling, he's definitely mobile. On the down side, he's discovered our DVD player and has an overwhelming temptation to mash the buttons. But the good news is our floors are looking cleaner every day!

Today he took it a step further... watch and enjoy!

Ugh

I've enjoyed almost all of Perrin's "firsts"--his first smile, first big boy bath, first laugh, first time to roll over, etc. But we're going through a not-so-fun "first" right now--his first cold.

He's almost 7 months old, so it was bound to happen sooner or later. I chalk it up to the wonders of breast milk that we've gotten this far without so much as a sniffle. But alas... our baby is now sick. And cranky. And covered in snot. (Seriously... I found a huge booger in his hair after getting him out of his crib this morning. I can only assume he sneezed and then rolled in it.)

I feel so helpless. There's just not much you can do for a sick infant except for suction his nose and cuddle him and pray that he recovers quickly. In the meantime, we're all miserable and sleepless. Plus I have this strange and irrational temptation to keep vigil by his crib all night long to make sure he's really going to be okay.

Having a sick baby is so sad. On the bright side, at least we're not both sick. Although I've probably just jinxed myself.

Sneaky, sneaky

Our pediatrician recommended that we start giving Perrin a vitamin supplement occasionally to make sure that he's getting enough iron. So we went out and bought infant vitamin drops for him. The only problem is he HATES it. I mentioned that little problem to doctor Davis, and she recommended that I mix it into applesauce to help mask the flavor. It worked! He made a funny face at first, but he was a good boy and ate all of his applesauce. Score one for mommy!

Funny thing is, I do the same thing for Trey. For example, we have some cauliflower in the freezer right now. Trey swore to me he wouldn't touch it with a ten-foot pole. So I steamed it, mashed it, and mixed it into mashed potatoes. Trey ate every bite. Score one for wifey!

I just have to make sure the two most important guys in my life are getting all the nutrition they need. So if I have to be a bit sneaky about it, so be it. And if anyone else has good ideas for masking veggies, send them my way! (Just don't tell Trey!)

Geek in training

Trey and I really enjoy technology, so it only makes sense that our son would follow in our footsteps. He is absolutely fascinated with my laptop. I downloaded a program for him called baby smash that lets him smash away on my keyboard while fun letters and shapes show up all over the screen. The only bad thing is that the last time he was playing it, I looked down after a while and realized I was missing the "H" key. I managed to extract it from his clenched fist and reattach it, but I'm a bit more diligent about watching him during these smash sessions.

Anyway, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to post some pictures of our little tech wiz: