Life with Josie

Now really Josie, you aren't a dog. Our canine friend Toby has returned after a month's "vacation" on Vancouver Island with his former housesitting friends. She's a big depressed, but getting used to us again after being with her favorite people for the last month. Poor Toby. Josie has been quite happy though, when she is awake, that is.

Last night was an exception to that. With four stubborn teeth making their way down into her mouth, she screamed last night from the time she went to bed (9:00 pm- late because we were at Bible study) until 1 am. She let us sleep for 4 hours before screaming again from 5:00 am on. Dave got up and fed her around 6:00, as he had to get to school early and take a final exam. Poor guy, running on 4 hours of sleep. I got up when he left and there was Josie at the table, happy as can be feeding her cheerios to Toby and shrieking with glee. Soon though, she was curled up in my arms, nursing and fell into a deep and peaceful sleep- for 3 hours!!! At least I took advantage of the rest too for an hour.

Then our well rested little girl found what she could do in common with Toby.

First, here you see her telling her to "sit" (really, she was saying that though I have no idea if she knew why). And when she got bored with the standing at the door action, she began moving around seeing what else she could find. Splashing and drinking from the dog dish, and after I moved her away from that I thought she was happily playing with the various toys on the floor. I looked up from my veggie chopping soup preparation to find this.

That's the almost empty dog food bin. She somehow opened it and was eating the crumbs out of it.

Gross.

Seriously Josie. Yuck!!

To her credit though, she was probably hungry. We've run our of our staple baby foods that I usually have pureed in the freezer and she had only had bananas and cheerios that morning. But dog food? Needless to say, I made some lists and went shopping this afternoon. Now there's a big pot of apples simmering on the stove ready to be pureed. And broccoli soup ready for dinner. So, I did get a couple of things accomplished after all.

This past weekend my "adopted" aunt Janet Taylor came for a visit. It was so nice- she definitely spoiled us with going out for dinner and lunch, as well as some much needed fireside counseling (she does that for a living) and wonderful conversation. It's kind of amazing, because we have a lot in common-- both in China for substantial periods of time, both at Regent for school, both part of the Taylor clan (me by association) and with a heart for the world. It's nice to have people that tie the loose ends of your life up by being in and experiencing the places and adventures that not many do. It's always encouraging to see her. :)

In other news, I had my first ultrasound last week. It was a bit unnerving at first as here the computer screen is turned away from you and the technician says nothing until she takes all the measurements. I laid on the table, waiting. Finally, after watching her frown for some time and watching her move the Doppler around for different views I asked if everything was alright. She said yes, it was just hard to get the right readings because the baby was moving too much!! Well, that's good news. And the baby measured at 12 weeks and a day when I went in at what I thought was 12 weeks exactly. So, I think we are on track:)

I'll leave you with this image. Josie just dumped out the dog dish again. Just when I thought I had a moment to update the blog... ha. Now off to but those cooked apples in the processor!

She's only still when she's sleeping

Josie at 10 months. Need I say more?

"I'm stuck!! Help!"

egg hunter

I'm not sure when this happened, but somewhere in the last 10 months our little baby became a little girl. A little girl who is into everything, pulling herself up on chairs and tables and ottomans. A little girl pulling silverwear from the dishwasher and crawling around corners to play peek-a-boo and laughing hysterically when she is "found" by her mother or "finds" mamma behind the counter.

So, in anticipation of the egg hunt we were going to go to Saturday, I began "hiding" eggs around the kitchen to see if she would "find" them.

Oh, and she did. She wouldn't let them go!! She shook them like rattles to any rhythm she made up or that was playing on the stereo. She threw them so that she could go after them. She rolled them on the ground and cuddled them to her chest.

So, when the big egg hunt approached, I was confident she'd make a decent showing, even with other more experienced egg hunters.

So, we began. And she wasn't at all interested in the eggs.

Not a bit.

But the toy cars, you betcha! And the blocks, and the barn and the toys on the floor.

But not the eggs.

I finally picked up the eggs (only 3, and definitely NOT the ones with only stickers inside, no, I found the heavy, candy laden ones for sure) to put in our basket.

I was glad for that at least. And when we were removed from the toys, and with eggs in hand, so was Josie. And especially glad for her first taste of chocolate. Plain M&M's to be exact. The best kind.

insignificant significance

Dave wasn't home by 10:15 pm on Saturday night. He had worked hard all day trying to keep up with the pile of readings, papers, and looming exams by spending the day in the library- plus he had to fit in 5 hours of janitorial labor in the library after it closed Saturday evening. I thought he might have been home by now. So I called him from the comfort of my fireside seat. He answered and I could hear the wind whipping the phone and the storm in the background. He was looking for Josie's lost baby blanket.

Earlier in the day we had gone to some friends for an Easter egg hunt and brunch, and I Dave dropped me off near to home on his way to school after we were done. Being a windy day out, I was thankful for the dear knit baby blanket made by "Grandma Taylor"- my 90+ year old "adopted" grandmother in the car to wrap Josie up in. I put Josie in her stroller and when the blanket was wrapped as tightly as possible, we made our half mile trek home.

I wasn't until we were 100 meter from home I realized that the blanket was gone and Josie was beginning to throw a fit both because she was tired, and by this time, getting cold. I jogged back down the muddy trails, looking for this blanket-- so upset that I would have lost it. How could this have happened? We backtracked most of the way to a park, but with screaming reaching new pitches and the wind picking up, I decided to lift up a prayer and run back later possibly when Dave was home or possibly in the morning.

It seems a small thing to pray about, but that blanket had real significance to me. I really didn't want to lose it, and so I prayed that it would be found. It seems that prayer has been my real work lately. Much of my time is spent at home with Josie, so the outwardly exciting life that I used to live has been much adjusted as I move to the rhythms of a 10 month old and to my own exhaustion of being 3 months pregnant. I've been convicted to pray, and the list has grown long with so many deep and heart wrenching needs. Needs that I feel so helpless to do anything about. Prayer has been the only thing connecting me. So, when this little thing, a small knit blanket lost becomes the focus of my prayer life, I felt a little sheepish, but hopeful, in offering up my request.

I told Dave around dinnertime about the blanket and my plans to find it when it was light out again. But when he wasn't home at his 10:00pm expected time, I wondered if he was out looking for it. And I was right. Out in the dark and the rain, retracing my steps though the neighborhood, though the park, under the trees. I called while he was searching and had a thought that if someone were to find this little treasure, they might just hang it on something visible. I told Dave to go look at the playground-- a little ways out of the path I had taken home, and within seconds, a laugh, a "I think we're in luck" and a pronouncement that the small, white, hand knit "buggy blankey" was hung over a park bench.

A funny think to cry about, but tears did come. Overwhelmed by the kindness of Dave to go searching in a late night storm, and for the person who hung it up so we could find it, and others who left it to be found. And of course for answered prayer. It seems such an insignificant thing, compared to the other needs, compared to the struggles and questions of who God is in my own heart, but somehow a message loud and clear "I love you".

And that's all I really needed to know.