"I long for transformation"

Jo of Little Women is the one who says that (in the movie, anyway.  I read the book 3x but I don't remember if those particular words were there).  I find myself longing for similar things.  Then again, I've always identified with Jo.  She was the awkward, less than frilly girl who would rather hang with the boys than be dainty and demure.  Adventurous and a visionary is what she was.  Her hair was her "one true beauty".  She was rough around the edges but passionate about life.  I can relate to all of these.  Her struggle throughout her early years was finding her place--finding where her gifts were best suited.  She thought it would be in writing that great novel but in the end it came in educating alongside her professor husband (seeing the similarities yet??) a group of boarding children.  FYI:  Little Men is an excellent book about those boys. 

I am where I could never imagine I would be.  I am married with children.  I am content here.  I am in awe of the beauty of this calling that motherhood is.  I get to fall in love with this man that I marry.  We grow in sync and become the "bestest" of friends.  We have babies and I get to fall in love all over again.  I'm amazed at how beautiful it all is.  This is my primary calling at this point and the Lord is using this stage of life to teach me so much.  I see the fruit of the spirit that I lack and am seeing how I daily need His sustenance to bring about the needed gentleness, patience, and self-control with my children.  There is a lot of messing up going on; therefore, a bunch of repentence and forgiveness. 

Even with this hard and wonderful calling of motherhood, I find myself wanting to be creative.  I want to use my hands and brain.  If I don't get to, I begin to wither.  It refreshes me to do such things.  I dream of taking creativity to new heights.  I wonder how this desire can be used in God's kingdom.  My prideful heart wants it used in big ways where many are affected and influenced but lately I think my circle of influence is small.  Meaningful but small.  It is SO good for me.  If I were to have the sphere of influence that I want- there will be a whole load of other issues that will come with it.  I am looking for ways to use my gifts in new ways--ways that I can effectively accomplish with my primary tasks as well as encourage or inspire others (just one person is enough). 

I'm thankful that the Lord is most effectual in using His chidren's gifts.  He doesn't want them wasted.  He may give our gifts a hiatus but only to further refine them and perfect us.  So, I will wait to see how the Lord will continue to use me in my small sphere of influence.  Transformation will come, but as with dear Jo, it will likely come in a package I do not expect.

the GREAT great pumpkin

I've grown up being a Charlie Brown fan.  I read the comic strips and faithfully watched "Charlie Brown Christmas" and "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown".  Many of you have too, I imagine.  As a grown up I greatly favor the Christmas special over the halloween one.  This isn't because of any great conviction about halloween being satan's holiday or anything like that.  I just think the storyline is more smooth and connected in the Christmas special than the halloween one  (why are we watching Snoopy fly an airplane for 10 minutes???).  But it occured to me this year why Charles Schultz is a genius (and possibly why I am as dull as dirt that I didn't understand this much earlier).  I don't remember why I was thinking about the Great Pumpkin in the spring but just know that my thoughts are as random as the lottery numbers each week.  Forgive me if I insult your intelligence with my bit of enlightenment.  You might have figured this out long before but just rejoice that I finally caught on.  :)  Charles "freakin' genius" Schultz made a Santa Claus type character for Halloween.  Then proceeded to prove its illegitimacy.  AAAAND he did this without insulting any hardcore Santa people.  Let me explain.  The Great Pumpkin (GP) is a bit of lore that Linus clung to with admirable dedication.  GP brought presents to little boys and girls who believed him and were "good".  Linus stayed all night in the pumpkin patch, foregoing the pleasures of the season--trick-or-treating, costumes, candy--to please the GP.  The non-existent GP obviously doesn't show.  Mr. Schultz could never be as obvious about his views of  Santa Claus and had a successful cartoon.  People would hate him for it.  People love using Santa Claus at Christmas.  So, he was subtle.  He was slick.  He made it harmless yet he made it.  We see Linus' misplaced devotion.  We see his struggle with whether or not he was good enough to receive the approval of GP.  Ahhhh.  Hats off to you, Charles Schultz.  Well played!

let me teach you about a concept known as 'taste aversion'

If there is ever a food or beverage that you would like to eradicate from your diet than be sure to eat it then have a very uncomfortable time afterwards throwing it up.  Have you ever known anyone who drank too much tequila, got sick, and swore off tequila for life?  They developed a taste aversion to it.  All of us have had these experiences (not necessarily with liquor).  My husband got sick after eating at one of my favorite burger joints.  Now he won't go back.  Taste Aversion is such a neat survival mechanism.  In the wild, when an animal eats something bad for them and get sick they will avoid it the next time they come across it.  In fact, sheep farmers will use this to their advantage.  They will coat the sheep's wool with a chemical that will cause vomiting if ingested.  All it takes after that is for one sheep to die for all the coyotes or wolves to avoid that farmer's other sheep. 

Five years ago I made a beautiful roast with vegetables in my new crockpot.  It was my first time using a crockpot that was a wedding present from our wedding two or so months earlier.  I ate some of it for dinner and around 11pm, lots of yuckiness ensued.  I'll spare the details but just know it wasn't just vomiting--yeah, are you with me?  On top of all that ickiness, I was having a panic attack. 

T-R-A-U-M-A!

Haven't touched the crockpot since then.

Until yesterday.  Five years later, I make my attempt to use the crockpot and rid myself of this taste aversion.   For a few years, if I even looked at the crockpot I would feel sick.  The association between that crockpot (and the stewed roast) was far too strong.  I couldn't eat anything that looked like what I cooked that night too.  So, many moons later I am able to look at the crockpot and use it.  Mind you, I made my debut with a recipe that looked very different from roast and veggies.  I made a white chili that involved chicken instead of beef.  I made it.  I ate it.  I didn't get sick.  Phew!

What do you have a taste aversion to?

one of the scariest moments of my life

The scene:  Esther's home in Monroe

Back story:  David and I took the boys down to Monroe because David's longtime friend was getting hitched in Ruston.  David was a groomsman.  Friday night after the rehearsal dinner he intended to hang back while Mrs. Hogue and I (and the baby) left so that he could get some hang out time with his old friend at a coffee shop.  David planned to be home (Esther's, that is) by 12:30.  I planned to be in dreamland with both boys.

At 2a.m. I awoke.  Not so strange for a mother to wake up with young children but neither child had stirred and so I wasn't sure why I woke up.  As I settled myself back down to sleep I realized that I didn't know what time it was but thought, "David is probably back and asleep."  At the last minute, I decided to lift my lazy head up to see if he was indeed home.  I did.  And he wasn't.  No reason to panic.  I didn't know what time it was.  Afterall, I could have been asleep for merely 15 minutes.  I got up to look at the clock-- 2:05am.  I decided to see if David decided to sleep on the couch since little David was stretched out on the bed.  Not there.  I checked to see if the van was here and perhaps he was locked out and didn't want to wake anyone--nope.  As I walked by Mrs. Hogue and Esther's room, Mrs. Hogue whispered out my name.  She asked if David was home and I informed her he wasn't and it was late.  She reports that her phone rang with a number she didn't recognize but no one replied.  That was 15 minutes earlier.  Esther, Mrs. Hogue and I were all up.  All the boys (including Jim) continued to sleep. 

I left my phone in Mrs. Hogue's car so I went looking for it.  In the meantime,  Mrs. Hogue and Esther were trying to find the number on her iPhone of the call that came in about 20 or so minutes earlier.  I found my phone easily but--no calls.  The last time I talked to David he told me his phone was about to die.  (I happened to call him from Esther's phone because, again, my phone was in Mrs. Hogue's car--this is important).  I tried his number anyway and was sent immediately to voicemail--his phone died.  Mrs. Hogue poured me some wine because I was starting to panic.  Where was he?  What is wrong?  What if he is hurt?  Or worse? 

Our next plan was to try to contact his friend, the groom.  I didn't have his number but I was his facebook friend.  He is also someone who happened to put his number on his facebook page (forever grateful for that!).  I called (yes, poor guy is getting a call from me at 2:30am the night before his wedding) and no answer.  I called again and this time left a msg.  He called back.  I asked him when they left the coffee shop in Ruston and he says that they left 5 min. to midnight.  Take a half-hour out for traveling back to Monroe and he should have been home at 12:30 or so.  Something is wrong!  Now I'm visibly upset.

Mrs. Hogue suggested calling the local hospital and police station to see if there was any news that way.  Do you know how scary that is?  I didn't want there to be any news that way yet I wanted to know where he was.  No news after calling both and I'm still left without peace.  Just because he isn't in a hospital doesn't mean he isn't hurt.  The images that were flashing through my mind were terrifying me.  I prayed.  I prayed in phrases.  "Lord, bring him home."/"Mind, body, and soul safe"/"Give him wisdom"/"Keep him safe."  Pacing the floor as the calls were being made.

Images of David's car crashed on the side of the road unseen or him stranded somewhere circled.  Then I am seeing David held at gunpoint or beaten or carjacked.  I'm so scared that he is hurt.  Or worse.  Pacing.  Praying.

Esther starts getting dressed to get in the car looking for him.  I tell her that I want to go but she says I should stay in case the kids wake up and she knows Monroe better than I do.  I couldn't argue with that but I longed to get out and look for him.  As she is getting dressed, my cell rings.  A number I don't know.  I answer.  "Hello?" On the other end:  "Oh, thank the Lord."  He is alive!!  It took me a moment to recognize his voice--perhaps because his voice was tired and strained.  I was also probably half-expecting it to be someone else giving me news (bad news) of my husband.  I gave the phone to Esther so that she could give him directions and I crumbled.  I lost all control of my emotions and cried my eyes out. 

Here is what happened:  David got to Monroe--even Esther's neighborhood but could not remember the street name and could not find the house.  His phone was dead so he could not call directly.  He stopped at a gas station but their phone line was not working right because he would get an operator everytime he dialed my number (wouldn't have reached me anyway because at that time my phone was in the car).  He didn't know his sister's or mother's number by heart.  No such luck.  Poor guy was getting angrier and angrier at his circumstances.  He prayed and grumbled.  Can you imagine circling around so early in the morning?  I hated that for him (but glad it was that and not pain or death).  He then ended up at a hotel where they warily let him use their phone.  I had mine.  He assumed my phone was dead because I called from Esther's earlier that evening.  He was surprised when I picked up.  Thankful that my phone wasn't dead and that I picked up, but sad that he knew that meant that I was worried--he explained his evening.  He never called Mrs. Hogue.  So what of that random caller from a number that she could not find record of in her phone afterwards?--I believe a stellar move from our Lord who woke her up.  The Lord also woke me up to discover that my husband was missing and needing prayer.  I also needed to get my phone from the car so that I could be there to receive his call.  The Lord heard my husband's prayers (and grumblings) and worked it out for him to come home.  Otherwise, he would have stayed at the hotel and I would have been worried beyond all reason.  When he finally got home, I ran out to the car and cried my eyes out again.  I couldn't help it.  He felt so bad that we were so worried.  We offered him some liquid consolation to help de-stress him. 

He was safe and home.  Yet, I could not sleep that night.  My body was still coursing with adrenaline and, at that point, anxiety.  It would take awhile for my body to catch up with my mind and figure out that it was ok to rest.  The fear of losing my husband was less terrifying to me than the idea that my husband, that I love, was hurt, afraid, or suffering.  I could hardly stand the thought of him in pain.  It was definitely one of those moments that revealed to me just how much David means to me.  He is absolutely the love of my life.  I'm writing this a week later because I could not allow myself to think about those moments.  It was high on the scale of awful moments.  It was intense and scary plus I was helpless but for prayer.  I hope to never be in that place again.  But if and when I am I know that the Lord is watching over us.  I'm so thankful for His involvement.  Also thankful for Esther and Mrs. Hogue for walking beside me in those dark moments for me.  I'm thankful that it was a relatively short period of time.

*pop*

that is the sound of my bubble popping. it is the sound of the spell being broken. I grew up believing that the men (there were mostly men back then) with the white coats and stethoscopes had the last say on all things. they told you matter-of-factly what was wrong with you and gave you a medicine to fix it--very Norman Rockwell.

my ideas about the medical community are less than idealistic now. I'm so glad for that. It would appear that doctors don't know everything. Now--that is obvious, isn't it? But a lot of us still live in the culture that will trust the doctor to tell how to raise our kids as if they have the corner on the market on wise parenting. I now question (in my heart and mind) just about everything that they say. Ok, not everything but a lot. These folks need accountability. I want people to realize that just because the doctor said doesn't mean that it is true. VERIFY your information. Get a second opinion, for goodness sake.

I have been fortunate to have a beautiful nursing experience with both of my boys. This success in breastfeeding was in spite of my pediatrician rather than because of him. This well-meaning and very kind doctor had ancient information about nursing that, I imagine, hurt a lot of new mother's nursing experience. His inaccurate information (nurse for only 15 minutes because that is all he needs) lessened my milk supply and caused my son to stop gaining weight (of ultra importance since he was a preemie). He didn't understand the mechanics of breastfeeding. Many doctors don't, esp. those educated earlier than a few years ago. Recently, a woman in MS was told that her breastmilk was second to formula. WHAT??? This was a woman who had a good nursing relationship already going with her 12 wk. old.  It isn't like he was trying to tell her that to alleviate any momma-guilt.  That information is false and stems from a very outdated misconception dating back to the 50's.

So, pediatricians do not need to give parenting advice. Just fix my sick kid and we are good. OBGYN's and hospitals should stop dictating what a mama should do with her birthing experience (unless there is a high risk). There is so much information and research out there about what makes for a healthy and good birthing experience and it usually doesn't require as much intervention as some hospitals (or all if you are in mississippi) want to give you. Why do they want to give it? liability and greed (or is being afraid of being liable also greed?).

There are so many "booby traps" in place in hosptials that make it easy for a mama to quit trying breastfeeding. Hospitals (and obviously the formula companies) are too quick to offer formula to a mom who is frustrated b/c she is feeding her baby every hour. Why is she frustrated? Likely because some unknowing nurse or doctor told her that she should be feeding her baby only every 2 or 3 hours. that is also wrong--that is what you do for formula fed babies who take longer to digest their food. Because breastmilk is so easily digestible by the baby's tummy they need to eat more frequently. But now mama thinks she isn't producing enough milk to fill her baby so she starts supplementing with formula. The pain of nursing is also something that can be helped and taken care of yet mothers are not told that they can get around that but just opt to reach for that free sample of formula that was given to them. Some are just so misinformed about just how beneficial breastmilk is and for how long it is. (it doesn't stop being good for your baby at 6mos.-- in fact it is recommended for at least 2 years).

I'm using parenting/breastfeeding issues because I happen to come across these more often.  But it is just scratching the surface of the medical community as a whole.  Patients have to take responsibility for their health and treatment. Not too long ago my mother, who was having back/neck/knee problems went to a doctor for help. He offered her shots to help with the pain. Not novacaine, mind you, but big deal epidural type shots. He never suggested exercises, or even physical therapy. After a few months, my parents brought it up to the dr. and he said it was a good idea. why didn't he suggest that from the beginning that which was most helpful to her?

I haven't finished watching it but I plan to but I think I want to recommend to everyone to watch the documentary "The Business of Being Born". So far it has captured my thoughts about our medical system. Health care reform would not be so bad if it meant that hospitals weren't charging an arm and a leg so that third-party payers will dish out the funds. Eventually, this ups our costs of health insurance. I'm over it.

As an aside-I have trouble being coherent these days so my thoughts are all over the place. My best blogposts are composed in my head while I'm driving. Those never make it to the computer screen the same way. oh well.

P.S.  I am not a doctor hater.  In fact, I have a respect for the work and studying that goes into that profession.  I also know that there are doctors that are more humble and /or more educated than others.  It is a case-by-case basis where these individuals are actually taught poorly in schools or within their residencies. 

some encouraging thoughts (from other people)

“The great thing, if one can, is to stop regarding all the unpleasant things as interruptions of one’s ‘own,’ or ‘real’ life. The truth is of course that what one calls the interruptions are precisely one’s real life—the life God is sending one day by day; what one calls one’s ‘real life’ is a phantom of one’s own imagination. This at least is what I see at moments of insight: but it’s hard to remember it all the time.”
~C. S. Lewis

"A mother…by her planning and industry night and day, by her willfulness of love, by her fidelity, she brings up her children. Do not read to me the campaigns of Caesar and tell me nothing about Napoleon’s wonderful exploits. For I tell you that, as God and the angels look down upon the silent history of that woman’s administration, and upon those men-building processes which went on in her heart and mind through a score of years;—nothing exterior, no outward development of kingdoms, no empire-building, can compare with what mother has done. Nothing can compare in beauty, and wonder, and admirableness, and divinity itself, to the silent work in obscure dwellings of faithful women bringing their children to honor and virtue and piety."
~Henry Ward Beecher


These quotes remind me that it is a high yet humbling calling to be a mother.  I also see that it is a messy one.  Tasks do not go as hoped or planned.  Hiccups and roadblocks will happen.  It is the nature of motherhood (and life).

vans, vegetables, and vacations

How did these months pass so quickly.  David headed back to school this week and I am reflecting on (as I am prone to do) on the summer past.  It was busy.  Sure, some folks think that because David is a teacher his summers are full of leisure.  We wish.  Not so but it is rather productive (or as productive as we can be with a toddler and an infant).  Our summer involved selling our car to purchase a van (a transaction that amazingly happened on the same day--I thought it would take forever to sell our car from craigslist but I am still getting calls about that car).  Our van, or swagger wagon, has made things easier, esp. in terms of packing up for trips.  Oh the room!  It is fabulous.  We are also enjoying all the storage compartments and power doors. 

Before Judah arrived, I rented a tiller and David tilled a part of our yard for a garden.  We were well advised by the folks at Lakeland Yard and Garden center and have a had a great harvest of tomatoes, cukes, squash, and okra.  We had a great harvest of parsley but caterpillers ate it before I could harvest it.  Bell peppers didn't do as well but there is always next year.  I look forward to it.  It has been a joy to tend. 

We got to go to gulf shores for a little R & R with my parents.  It has been the first time going on  vacation since David was born so although it was fun it was also not a trip to the beach as we remember it.  We've entered into a new stage of life.  We loved being in such a beautiful setting, in a great condo.  David Jr. enjoyed the beach and the pools with his daddy.  David took a course this summer that kept him pretty busy.  He took his required translation exam and passed with flying colors.  That was not a surprise to his wife who sees him work so hard.  I'm proud of my intelligent husband who is passionate about latin and all things related. 

We have been married 5 years now.  What a jam-packed few years it has been.  I'm continually grateful for this relationship the Lord blessed me with.  I don't deserve it but I'm thrilled to have a godly husband and now these two precious children.  More on that later (maybe--if i get around to it).

I never really look forward to David going back to work but here are some things I do look forward to:
-- a regular schedule
--cooler weather
--pecans! from our trees
--delicious apples and all things pumpkin
--a wedding for David's friend
--Judah's baptism
--David's 31st birthday soon after
--mama's bible study starting back up
--holidays!!

Happy August!

secret identity

I love being a mom...mostly.  Sure there are weeds to pull up, and the toil (oh the toil) of backbreaking (esp. with my hulking boys) work that comes with parenting.  But as my little tykes sleep (at the same time, like they are now so that I can write you this post) I am filled to the brim with joy, thankfulness, and love.  Can any other occupation be so emotionally complex as parenthood?  One of the major downsides to parenthood for me has been the constant scrutiny I am under for how we choose to parent.  No, this is not a post on why I am justified in choosing my parental methods.  That is another post for another day (and that day may be a long way away).  This is really about my personal response to such scrutiny.  I confess that I like people's approval.  Nay, I LOVE people's approval.  I yearn for it more than I like to admit, even to myself.  Do I know that it is empty?  In my head I do.  I know that people's opinions are like chaff in the wind--it changes direction in a heartbeat, swaying to and fro.  But this is an emotional addiction that probably dates back to before I even started talking. 

So, with the scrutiny comes what I interpret as disapproval and judgement.  With disapproval and judgement comes a drop in confidence and a rise in insecurity.  Apparently, as is becoming more clear to me, I find my identity in others approval.  When others think I'm ok than I feel ok.  This has the potential of turning me into an approval junkie. 

However, the Lord loves to place us just outside our comfort zone.  So in my parenting adventure I have received much input.  Some of that input is uneducated and/or unhelpful.  Yet, I am faced with the knowledge that So-and-so believes me to be a poor parent.  I am faced, therefore, with my idol.  Yet another "golden calf" in my life.  It takes practice for myself to let go of the approval that falsely promises me love and peace.  I want my identity to be found in stronger stuff.  The stuff of Christ.  His approval is all that matters and I receive it freely because I believe Him when He tells me that He loves me (and my family), is shaping me, and will complete that work in me.  God's peace is long-lasting whereas others' approval is so short-lived.  If you don't have God's peace, seek it whole-heartedly. 

surviving the first month, part II

As smooth as my transition to two kids has been, there have been a couple of rough spots.  The first was how to keep my toddler occupied whilst not watching too much PBS during the times when I was tending to the baby.  For the most part, I would say I failed at this on my own.  The second challenge was napping.  David Jr.'s ritual was washed away when Judah came.  I was successful getting David down for a nap a few times but it was just too difficult and it sort of felt like the moons had to align in order for that to really work.  He would either miss his nap and be a big crank the rest of the afternoon or take a late one and be up late at night.  The only place that I had some guarantee was the car.  So, toward the end of the month I loaded up the car daily and David would fall asleep.  I would either drive around or come home and sit in the driveway with a book to read or nurse Judah.  I didn't even want to risk transferring him to his bed at that point.  One time,  I attempted an at-home nap and failed.   I just went about the day as usual.  At 4pm, I noticed that my son was awfully still at my feet.  I was sitting in my beige rocker in the corner.  I saw that he fell asleep on the floor.  That has never ever EVER happened.  My high-needs child fell asleep on the floor without help.  Well, I thought it was adorable.  It will likely not happen again for awhile but it was so sweet.  He was too tuckered out to fight the nap.

Napping is still hard but for different reasons.  David is home for the summer which had me thinking this would get easier, however, Jr. threw us a curveball, as most children do.  We are in the midst of figuring out what is going on with him that this change is occuring, what he needs, and what we can do about it.  He isn't wanting to go to sleep yet he is very sleepy some days.  So, I don't think he is doing away with his naps altogether.  Some days, like yesterday, he rested with his daddy on the bed and then was up-and-at-'em like he had a full nap.  We tried to put him to bed at his regular time but he didn't go to sleep until 3 hours later.  We are baffled.  Hopefully we'll start to see some sort of cause-n-effect pattern and respond accordingly. 

We are highly motivated.  He isn't the only one needing a nap...

surviving the first month, part I

I am surprised to say that the transition to two kids so far has been much easier than anticipated.  The hard stuff of transitioning was already passed when we had our firstborn, David.  So, Judah was just a tiny addition of responsibility.  A welcome one, at that.  He is so darling.  Incredibly laid back and fusses when there is only a clear problem and easily consoled.  In the class I teach (human growth & development) there are three types of temperaments that babies have (and are usually stable throughout their life) and they are:  easy, slow-to-warm-up, and difficult.  Undeniably, Judah is an easy baby who has already (and pretty early) shared his smiles with us.  He allows us to put him down more often and his cries are not intense compared to what his older brother's were when he was that little.  I am amazed how early you can see their personalities.  If you are going to have kids (which I highly suggest you do, if married) then I also highly suggest you have more than one.  Having Judah has helped me understand some of my past experiences with David.  I am able to do some healthy comparing and contrasting.  For instance, I gained perspective about David as an infant.  There were always seeds of doubt about whether I made David into a fussy infant.  Was I, in our attachment parenting philosophy, creating a difficult child to raise?  The answer is no, happily.  I can see clearly now that David's temperament was not a figment of my imagination and it wasn't my fault.  I can only see that because of how different Judah is.  Cool, right?  Their need levels were different and I could only know that this was a normal thing to deal with by having two of them.  Oh, the lessons we'll learn with the more we have and the older they get!

After my firstborn, I desired my "me" time.  Well, I long got used to not having as much of that.  After Judah, what I miss is more couple time.  I find myself planning and looking forward to times when David and I can have dates that don't require a nursing break.  This is mainly because we are two-on-two.  I handle Judah mostly and David handles David Jr. mostly.  So, my husband and I are not together as much.  This is a normal challenge of this phase and it will be over likely before I am truly ready to see my kids outgrow that kind parenting but I do look forward to couple time.  The summer will be better because David is thankfully a teacher with summers off (mostly--he has an online course to complete).  He'll be around and that will be GREAT!

David (husband) has found himself in the first month feeling oh-so-bonded with David Jr.  Whereas, I was completely and utterly in love with Judah.  It is hard to compete with a cuddly and adorable newborn.  I have struggled with all sorts of mixed feelings about my toddler, in the meantime.  When I am feeling patient and rested, I am able to sympathize with my toddler's transitions from his perspective.   However, when my toddler is particularly challenging I want to get away from him.  This is all the more complicated because this is the son that I was so bonded to prior to Judah's arrival.  I feel sad, then guilt, then good.  Kind of a crazy mix of emotions.  Again, I have read enough to know that these complicated and conflictual emotions are a normal part of transitioning but just because it is normal doesn't mean it is comfortable or fun.  I'm thankful at these times that David's daddy is his playmate (a great one at that).  I see the genius in God design, don't you?