isaiah 40:11

I think the books call it strong-willed.
Here at the Martin house, we prefer spirited.

Our little man is demanding.  Loud.  Easily bored.
He laughs really hard, smiles really big.  And cries with, um, passion.

God has given him a spirit of independence and determination.  Strength.
He will need these things in his life!  There will be challenges for this little one and God equips! 

But holy cow this mama can get frustrated.  (Oh gosh.  Is that where he gets it!?)

Some days, I feel like he spends more time crying than not.
Some days, all I have to do is leave the room and he has a total meltdown.
Some days, I find myself wondering if he will ever be a happy little guy.
Some days, I don't feel like singing the itsy bitsy spider one more time.
Some days, I wonder what I have done wrong. 

And then, I am given this.  Straight from the pages of my devotional this morning.  A message so loud and clear, even this skeptic can't deny it.

He tends to his flock like a shepherd:

He gathers the lambs in his arms

and carries them close to his heart;

he gently leads those that have young.  

It's already found its way to a big fat notecard where I will see it all the time. 

Praise God from whom all blessings flow.

Even the blessing of a spirited little man. 

happy thanksgiving

I am sitting on the couch.  Daisy sleeping beside me.  Luke taking a morning nap.
The house is so quiet. 

For the last 7 days, we've had a home full of visitors.
Friends, then family, then more family! There's been someone here every day since last Monday and we had a wonderful holiday week.  Adam was off for five days in a row and we spent so much time together as a family. 

We spent Thanksgiving Day with Adam's family.
A delicious meal and lively conversation.  ;) 

My heart is thankful. 

Today, back to routine.  Back to work and meal planning and running and laundry.

We didn't take many pictures, but I'll leave you with just one. 
Luke's favorite little visitor ... and their favorite part of the day! 

hellooooooooooooo!

Ah. We are alive.  And well, now.  

Last week was one of those weeks.
The stretching.  Pruning.  Fighting.  Breakdown.  Reflecting kind of week. 

I was sick.
Luke had surgery.
Then Adam got sick.

And Thursday?  Thursday was one of those days that made me glad that His mercies are new every morning.   Glad that I could wake up Friday and forget about Thursday.

I am learning so much through this journey of new motherhood.  I'm not sure yet how much I'll share on this little ol blog but for now, let's just say I'm being stretched and challenged and I have so much more to learn.

Here's a pic of my little man on Tuesday.  He looks like a girl in this peach hospital gown, but, I assure you, he is not.

He had to go under general anesthesia for a little procedure on his, ahem, boy parts.  Things went well, he came home the same day, we had one rough night and a few rough days of recovery.  But today, he's back to his usual self.

His usual self, by the way, is now pulling to a stand!  Go buddy!

a visit from luke's girlfriend

Sunday evening, Luke and Molly had a little slumber party. 
Trip to the park.  Dinner together.  Bath time together, sorta.
A morning run, a picnic lunch, and a bit of shopping.  What a treat! 

It's so neat to watch these two grow up together.  Even if they do live a few hours away now.  Distance makes the heart grow finder, right? 

mommy instincts

Since Luke was born, I've become obsessed well-versed with parenting theory.
Attachment.  Baby Wise.  On-Demand.  By-the-clock.
Cry it out.  Extinction.  Graduated extinction. 

Luke is a great sleeper.  Has been for quite some time.
He goes to bed around 7:15, wakes up around 6 in the morning, nurses, then goes back to sleep until 7:30 or 8:00.  Amazing.

He's also capable of soothing himself to sleep.  We've worked hard on this, and although he's not totally consistent, he's pretty darn good.

Last night, he woke up at 3:00 am.  Very uncharacteristic.
I let him cry for 15 or 20 minutes, the crying got louder, so I went into his room.

No fever.  No poop.  No vomit.  Room not too cold.  Not too hot.
I put his paci in and rubbed his back.  He was quiet.  I left the room.

We repeated this entire process again just a few minutes later.

And then, on the third round of crying, and I mean, crying, I began to pray.
Lord, bring peace and calming and comfort to this baby.
Protect him, soothe him, love him.
Give him exactly what he needs to go back to sleep.

And then, there it was.
The still small voice, whispering.  I created him to need you.  

Really, God?  Because I've read some books by some pretty big wig M.D.s that say he should cry himself back to sleep.   

Again.  I created him to need you. 
It was unmistakable.

I went into his room, picked up my baby, gave him a paci and wrapped a light blanket around him.
He put his head on my shoulder (which he never does!) and whined just a little bit before he was quiet again.

I held him like that for several minutes.  Told him I loved him, rubbed his back, and laid him back down in the crib.  He was asleep.

Dr. Weissbluth, Baby Wise fanatics, friends with solid opinions:  I did the right thing.  For my kid.  In that moment. 

My friend Kathryn once told me, listen to your mommy instincts.  It's the single best piece of advice I've ever been given. 

I've failed one hundred times and I will fail again.  But when I listen to the One who gives me mommy instincts, I can only get it right.