Tag Archives: God

Alice is . . .

A thumb sucker.

DSC_0185A toe sucker!

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Very bendy.

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Eater of anything crinkly.

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Fierce chewer of books.

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Eater of pages.

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Reader of books.

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A solids enthusiast!

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No longer this small.

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Or this small!

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Loved by her grandma Sara!

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Pretty.

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Happy.

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Talkative.

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Sleepy.

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Big enough to sit up in the Target cart.

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Always interested in new surroundings.

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A scrump-diddly-umptious little beach baby.

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Make that a sand-eating scrump-diddly-umptious little beach baby.

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Make that a roly, poly, roliest, poliest, bathing-suited sand-eating scrump-diddly-umptious little beach baby.

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I WANT TO EAT THIS BABY RIGHT UP! Is what I’m trying to say.

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There’s just something about babies in bathing suits with their roly poly little baby flesh just begging to be kissed and snuggled.

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Mom?

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Mom? It’s time to get on with it.

Okay, the baby is right. Time to move on.

Where were we? Oh.

Alice is . . .

My little office companion.

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Able to pull herself up! (When did this happen?)

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A Chicagoan.

DSC00223Blue-eyed.

DSC_0460Dimply.

DSC_0009Mine!

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Mine, mine, mine!

DSC00229Okay . . . and his.

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Ultimately, God’s.

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And then she smiled

The past few weeks have been hard. A combination of work, remodeling noise in the office that has interfered with Alice’s napping, and new mobility that has rendered her travel bed obsolete for naps in the office (she can crawl right out–and does!) has made me a little crazy. In the head.

Picture this: a baby is crying for all she’s worth, covered in snot. She’s exhausted but won’t nap, and is wailing like it’s the end of the world and mama has left town without her. The phone is ringing and it’s a customer who is particularly needy. My boss is leaving for a trip the next morning and at the last minute needs me to put a presentation together. Which I need to finish before he leaves the office in an hour so that he can print it (and yes, my baby is still crying). My boss bought lunch for us, but it’s 4pm and I still haven’t had time to actually eat it. I can’t mother Alice like I want. I can’t focus on work and get it done efficiently like I want, and I think my head might actually explode this time.

At the height of my mental chaos, when I feel like I’m about to fall into a hundred pieces, I cry out to God: help me. Sometimes that’s all I can do, but if I have a little extra in me, I add, keep me from sinning. Because I can sense that I’m about to scream, or swear, or give myself over to anger/despair/panic.

I trust in his providence that he is using this time to sanctify me. I always comfort myself during hard times by saying “God isn’t letting any of my suffering go to waste. He’s going to use every ounce of it to accomplish something.”

I’m not sure what, but he won’t let it be for nothing, I’m convinced.

And let me add on to this: I am so thankful. I don’t feel thankful when I’m caught up in the tornado of emotions of a bad day, but as soon as I have a minute to compose my brain and think a coherent thought or two, I remember that all of the things that feel like a disaster are actually a blessing. I have a healthy, gorgeous baby. Case in point:

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I have a boss that allows me to bring her to work. Add to that a job that is normally quite calm and manageable.

I get to leave around 2 or 3pm every day and then work from home until 5pm. I get to work from home all day on Fridays. I have a boss who doesn’t mind the wailing of a baby, and has done absolutely everything to accommodate the two of us.

God is good!

And of course, when I see this little face, my heart sings.

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And when she smiles . . .

DSC_0015. . . my cup not only overflows, but I see that it was overflowing all along.