First tooth!

Peter cut his first tooth on July 16, 2011. :)

(Please excuse the marshmallow cream on his face.)

What have we done?

Sean and I have been attending a new church, and it's different than any other place I've been to. (Read: nothing like Elkin Valley Baptist) This isn't a bad thing; I actually think it's good because I can't compare the two places. The preacher is very topical, and I leave every Sunday really thinking about what I've heard.

Anyway, today we sang a song which I think says a lot. It's called "What have we done?" and the lyrics follow:

Oh my soul, oh my Jesus
Judas sold you for thirty, I'd have done it for less
Oh my soul, oh my Savior
Peter denied you three times, I have denied you more

As the nails went in, I was standing right there
As you breathed your last, I shook my head and I cried

Oh my God, what have we done, we have destroyed your Son
Oh my God, what have we done, we have destroyed your Son

Oh my soul, oh my Jesus
Judas sold you for thirty, I'd have done it for less
Oh my soul, oh my Savior
Peter denied you three times, I have denied you more

And the blood ran down, I was standing right there
And the water pored, I shook my head and I cried

Oh my God, what have we done, we have destroyed your Son
Oh my God, what have we done, we have destroyed your Son
Oh my God, what have we done, we have destroyed your Son
Oh my God, what have we done, we have destroyed your Son

As the nails went in, I was standing right there
As you breathed your last, I shook my head and I cried

Oh my God, what have we done, we have destroyed your Son
Oh my God, what have we done, we have destroyed your Son
Oh my God, what have we done, we have destroyed your Son
Oh my God, what have we done, we have destroyed your Son
Oh my God, what have we done, we have destroyed your Son
Oh my God, what have we done, we have destroyed your Son

By the end, I found myself changing the words. Oh my God, What have I done? I have destroyed Your Son. I'm just as guilty of not standing up as the people who were there, as guilty as Judas and Peter. That's a hard thought to face. Just because we live in a different time, we aren't any less accountable. How often do things happen that give us a chance to stand up for what we believe in? How often do we blatantly choose to ignore our faith in the name of fun? How often do we sin and choose to keep sinning? Isn't that just slapping God in the face?

It's hard, because we live in a world where it's easy to deny, harder to proclaim. But yet, we (I) can't deny with our (my) actions and proclaim with our (my) words. People see that hypocrisy. What kind of witness is that?

Just some thoughts to think about. I really want to strive to be a true follower, and not one in word only. I encourage you (whomever is reading this) to do the same!

Wordless Wednesday

Inagural Run for Wine VA Half Marathon

On June 4, 2011, I had the opportunity to participate in a half marathon with a group of women I love. My training was essentially non existent, but I wasn't about to sacrifice my entry fee or the experience of my first half. I walked. Well, I did run the downhills. But mainly walked.

Short story: I finished. 3:38.

Long story: I walked with my good friend Noel. We got to the start line, and things were delayed! The race started a good 25-30 minutes late, which pretty much sucked. We got started, and things were going well. Noel didn't tell me that she was hurting, but she pushed on. First mile, right on pace. Second and third miles, still going strong. Fourth mile, Noel made me laugh and I almost peed myself (thanks, Peter). Yay for portajohns! I was afraid I would be using the side of the road, and it was full of poison ivy. Mile five--great. Still feeling good. I'm officially further than my longest distance. Great. I can do this! Mile six. Uphill. A big uphill. Like the ones on campus but longer. And then a dirt road. But it's not really dirt; it's pavement with rocks on it. Ouch. By now, my toes feel funny and my knees hurt. Don't complain. Noel is hurting. I must stay strong! Mile eight...kids at the crossroads give us high-fives. Awesome. Mile nine--big house. One of the guys on the course refers to it as Tara from "Gone with the Wind." Fair statement...it was big and gorgeous. Mile 10, and I'm ready to be done. I'm hungry and my knees hurt. Mile 11, and I know I've got this. This is like a day at the mall. Power-walking the mall, but still. I'm going to finish. Noel and I part ways. She needs to run more to ease her legs up some. Fair enough. I start walking with random people on the route and talk to them. Mile 12 is crap. I bonk. I go through the cemetery along the route, and seriously consider stopping to sit on a tombstone. Who puts a hill in a cemetery anyway??? And then, the finish. Even worse...the last stretch is uphill. I hear people saying the finish line is at that silo over there (points). That silo is way off in the distance. And then, I reach the driveway of the vineyard. I see mom and Peter. He's asleep. Then I see Noel at the finish, and she's holding cups of water! Hallelujah, water! I pause for a picture with the two random ladies I finished with, and then cross the line. I did it! Ouch! I'm thirsty. Someone give me water. Thanks, Mom, for freezing some so it's cold. I strip out of my shirt and sports bras (I had on a cheapo nursing bra too). Ahh...relief!

What will I do differently next time? I'll train. I'll eat a bit more before hand. I'll drink more electrolyte drinks. Will I have more fun? Not likely. It was a weekend with a bunch of friends, my mom, and my baby. It'll be hard to top that.

Go Cupcake Chasers! :)

My baby's gone mobile!

A week before he turned 9 months, Peter took his first hesitant "crawl." Now, he's a pro!

Smartipants

Smartipants aren't your typical pocket diaper. They have a "sleeve" sown into the inside of the diaper that's open on both ends. The insert goes in, and then doesn't have to be pulled out when used. It agitates out in the wash!

As Peter gets bigger, I like these diapers more. I wasn't able to get a good fit around his thighs until they chunked up some. Now, though, they fit well. I do feel like they sag a little on him, but it's not bad. They still work under just about any pants.

And now, pictures. I'm not getting better at these; he's getting harder to work with!

Rumparooz

Rumparooz (or RaR in the cloth diaper world) are a great diaper. They definitely fit small, though, so they may not be the best bet for someone who has large babies, and especially large toddlers. It has four rise settings and Peter is already on the third, but he still has plenty of room in the waist.

I have the snap version, and I've been very happy with it. I also love all the prints and colors this diaper comes in. We have the robots print, and platinum. At some point, I plan to pick up a couple more prints. It's so hard to find good boyish prints in diapers, and RaRs definitely have them!

For a pocket diaper, this is great! It has a fleece inside, and inner gussets! This means that it holds even the runniest of messes inside...always a plus. The only negative is that the opening isn't at the top of the back, but rather just inside the back of the diaper. Due to this, it can occasionally result in digging through poop to get out the insert. Wash your hands well after!

Speaking of inserts...this diaper comes with two--a contour and a regular. The contour snaps onto the regular for added absorbency. It can be used separately for small babies or those who aren't heavy wetters. Peter can still make do with just the contour, though I need to switch to the regular, just for better coverage within the diaper.

My Little Ham

Peter had his first taste of ham off of my sub tonight. He loved it!

Way back when...more thoughts about camp

It seems that I loved to write about camp in college, which makes sense. It was a big part of my life. Still is. The mountain changed me. I can still remember the smell of the cabins, the cool mornings starting fires, the hugs, skipping around holding hands, singing songs, changing lives.

3-8-2007

So, I'm sitting in my bed at home, thankful that it's Spring Break and that the wireless at least works with my laptop. It's been a good break. I still need to work on a paper, but that's not too bad. I don't think it'll take me very long. Probably about 3 hours is what I'm hoping. I can knock it out tonight and tomorrow. But you all don't really care about a paper. Neither do I. Time is fast approaching for camp. It's hard to believe that I'm getting ready to start my fourth summer. I can still remember my mom dropping me off the first summer, and moving in, and all that jazz. I was so nervous; I didn't know what I was getting into. Now, I can't imagine not being there. I know the paths like the back of my hand. I looked at a picture in the brochure Tammy sent me the other day and knew exactly where it was taken. I remember leaving the mountain last summer sobbing, crying out to God. I just knew that I was done, that He didn't want me back up there anymore. It was an overwhelming feeling that I had all last summer, that I was finished. Even up through when applications were due, I still wasn't sure. I spent many hours praying, looking at pictures, reading and rereading my journals. I sat in Sean's room and cried when he told me that I would eventually have to figure something out. It was a decision I didn't want to have to make. I went ahead and started working on the application, but I still wasn't sure. Even after I submitted it (a day late), I still didn't know if I was doing what God wanted me to. I just knew that I needed to make sure that the option was still there. I did my interview on the phone one Wednesday afternoon. After talking to Tammy for about 30 minutes, I was fairly certain that I was supposed to go back, but I still didn't feel that peace about it that I've felt in the past. Part of it was that I was scared that I was reapplying just because I was afraid to leave my comfort zone. I've grown secure in camp; it's a way for me to escape things. Interview weekend was really hard for me. I had to work open house, so I didn't get to make it. Understand, this is the first time I have ever missed it. It was at my first interview that I saw Mundo for the first time. Those memories are precious, as are the people I met that weekend. But anyway, back to this year: I distinctly remember going back to my hall to work on bulletin boards and having one of the other RAs come up to talk to me. I told him about having decorated my cabins, and how much fun that always was, but challenging, too. The next day, I kept telling Sean how much I really wished I was at camp; he couldn't understand. No one can. Just know that I prayed a lot for everyone that was there. And cried, because I knew that there would be people there that I might never see again, because they were applying for different missions. The day I got the e-mail telling me I had been rehired as a unit leader, I fell face down on my futon and cried for a good 30 minutes. I had the peace about me, that I was doing what God wanted. My friend Nick Clanton was the only person that was at his computer, so he got to hear all about it. (Yay for Nick being at Caraway this summer!) Later that night at BSU, he came up and hugged me. I cried again. It only took about a week for me to even be able to think about camp without tears welling up. Even now, I still tell everyone just how excited I am to be back up on that mountain. No matter what doubts I had, or what I felt God was telling me, I know HE knew what was going on. And thus, when I drive my car back up that mountain for summer number four, I'll be able to smile, because I know that God has new girls for me to impact, new ways for me to be impacted, and new friendships for me to be able to form. The memories from 2004, 2005, and 2006 can never be changed, but new memories are always welcome! So, I'm not really sure where all of this came from, but I just wanted everyone to know where I'm at right now. The next two and a half months are going to fly by, and I'll be in prayer for the lessons that will be taught and learned on the mountain this summer, the relationships that will be formed, and the hearts that will be changed!

Kissaluvs Fitteds

Most people talk about usings Kissaluvs Size 0s (KL0's) on newborns. I bought two of them used after Peter wouldn't fit in them anymore, but it was a good deal, and I figure I can always use them on the next baby, right (a true sign of obsession...).

Anyway, I also bought a size 1, which fits babies 10-25 pounds or so. Now, I know Peter is small, but he does weigh over 15 pounds now. That said, I find this diaper exceptionally baggy. Sure, it fits and is absorbent, but it just doesn't seem to fit well right now. He definitely has plenty of growing room at least, which is a good thing.

The best feature of this diaper is that the tabs are slightly stretchy. This is a definite plus with snap closures. I really wish all snap closures had this option, because it does make it easier to get a better fit.

As for newborns, I can't wait to get to try out my KL0's. They feature an umbilical cord snap-down, and I'm hoping to find enough that we can use them from the very beginning, even in the hospital.

And for the pictures! Please ignore the slightly awkward quality; I took these at bedtime while Peter was nursing himself to sleep.

BumGenius Bamboo Fitteds

BumGenius Bamboo Fitteds are some of my favorite diapers, but they're super hard to find. They were discontinued right when I found out I was pregnant, so I bought 4 smalls on clearance. I then received another 3 as a baby shower gift.

I never thought that these would turn into some of my all-time favorite diapers. The problem? I only had 7 smalls, and no bigger sizes. I've stalked diaperswappers trying to find mediums, and finally tracked some down. I now have 5 of them, too. At 15 pounds, Peter is just now moving into the mediums, so I have hope that they'll last for a long time.

These diapers are so absorbent, and so very soft. The softness has actually lasted through lots of washes. I've also found that the velcro has held up fairly well for how much I've used these. They also fit really well under several different types of covers.

So, my advice is if you ever stumble upon these and need diapers, get them. I really wish I had more in my stash (admittedly, I love fitteds because they're less likely to leak).

And now, for pictures:

Babee Greens One-Size fitted

Poking around the internet one day, I stumbed across Babee Greens. The neat thing about this company is that they're local to me, right here in Asheville. I've had the opportunity to meet the owners, Tia and Rachel, and they're both lovely women!

Anyway, I have a couple of their organic cotton one-size fitteds (but only one has been prepped so far). I LOVE this diaper. It's adjustable by way of a fold down rise, has great cross-over snaps, and comes with a cool doubler that can be snappi-ed on a baby who doesn't fit in the OS yet.

Peter has worn this diaper for up to four hours with no leaks, and that's using just the diaper, not the doubler. I truly think it can hold him overnight, but I haven't tested it yet. That will come once I get my wool longies prepped.

My favorite thing about this diaper is how trim it is. Peter isn't a big baby (15 pounds at 8 months), and this doesn't give him a super fluffy bum like some diapers do. It's also amazingly soft and easy to use. It also fits well under several different types of covers.

Now...for a couple pictures. Keep in mind I'm no professional photographer, and he's in a rather squirmy age.

A series on diapers

I get a lot of questions from people in real life about diapers, and I really do love talking about them. I'm going to do a series on all the different types I use, and reviews of each brand. This is partly to make answering emails easier, and also to just really document something that has become a hobby to me. (Because seriously, Sean's tired of me talking about diapers all the time...)

So, to start, here's a list of all the types of diapers I have.

4 BumGenius One-size (3.0 and 4.0, all velcro)
5 FuzziBunz One-size  - one has delaminated a bit, but still usable.
2 FuzziBunz Perfect size
6 BumGenius All-In-One (3 x-small, 2 small, 1 medium)
2 Rumparooz One-size (snaps)
3 HappyHeiny One-size (2 velcro, 1 snap)
1 Tots Bots Easy Fit
3 Kawaii One-size (2 velcro, 1 snap)
3 Smartipants One-Size
4 Fluffy Elephant (1 modified large, 3 one-size)
12 BumGenius Bamboo Fitteds (7 small, 5 medium)
2 Babee Greens One-size fitted
11 Kissaluvs fitteds (10 size 0, 1 size 1)
1 Muttiquins fitted (newborn)
1 Kissaluvs Marvel One-size fitted
1 Declyn Dipes semi-custom One-Size
5 Budha Butts (4 medium, 1 small)
1 Itti Bitti Snap-in-One (medium)
1 Plump size small
2 Coco Bear Cloth (1 small, 1 medium)
1 DooDooDiapers OS AI2
12 prefolds (6 Indian, 6 Chinese)
16 unbleached flats
8 bleached (printed) flats
4 Flip One-Size covers
2 Econobum prefolds/covers - I only use the prefolds
2 Babee Greens PUL covers (1 small, 1 medium)
3 Bummis Super Whisper Wrap covers (2 small, 1 medium)
2 Thisties Duo covers
10 Greenline covers (7 cotton outer, 1 fleece outer, 1 double fleece, 1 for swimming)
1 AnayaBaby cover (medium)
1 Babee Greens wool cover
1 Babee Greens wool longies

I'll start with a discussion of fitteds later this week. :)

Way back again!

My goodness--I should be doing something more productive than this, like cleaning my room. It's gotten worse, and I just cleaned Saturday morning. I really dispise cleaning. Ok, enough of that.

I go back to camp in 57 days. That's really soon, and it makes me happy. I'm already starting to pray for everything that God has in store for this summer; I know He has BIG!!! plans for us as a staff, for the campers, and for each of us personally. The mountain is amazing. That's why all my friends are tired of hearing me talk about it.

The first night back last summer, I wrote the following in my journal "There are fantastic things that happen on this mountain. It's a comforting place, a healing place. It's free from the world's distractions, free from the world in general. I love being here."

The end of the summer, I wrote, "How do I explain how it feels to have a girl finally hug me right before she leaves on Friday, and to have one ask me to sit by her bed at night? How can I explain that I give my summer out of pure love? Yeah, its a sacrifice, but I gain back so much more. How do I explain the way I feel when I serve, when my grils don't even notice all teh work I'm doing? How do I explain the change in me?" and "I am not the girl I was when I left for teh mountain this summer. I can't explain the changes in me just yet, but I know they are there. God used me to touch lives this summer, and I'm forever grateful for that. But moreso, I'm grateful for the way He used my girls to change me. I was forced to grow up....God has showed me that I am beautiful, not because of how I look, but because He dwells in me. I know, I know. I should have already realized that. And on some levels, I had. But this summer, I had a chance to teach it every Monday. And each time, I would have grils tell me just how ugly they thought they were. It's so hard for me to see just how caught up the world is on surface appearances. What's inside is what really matters. My point to all this is, while I still look pretty much just like I did when I left for camp this summer, my inside looks much more beautiful. God is good!"

I said all that to say this: camp has touched me. I've learned many lessons there. And yet, it's important that we go out and find our own place to grow. And it can't just be a place during the summer. My growth from camp comes from the fact that I actively seek God when I'm there. It's easy to get caught up in everything going on in our lives, and to just expect others to cause us to grow. That doesn't work. Much of our growth comes from within. I do believe in fellowship, but I see that there is more to being a Christian than hanging out and eating, or whatever. I want to get out and find God more...He's everywhere...we just have to acknowledge Him!!!

"I don't want to go somewhere
If I know that You're not there
'Cause I know that me without You
Is a lie.
I don't want to walk that road
Be a million miles from home
'Cause my heart needs to be where You are.
I don't want to go."

Another look way back

From April 2006:

So, it's 3:47 in the morning, and the guy across the hall just asked me to come over and talk. Here's the convo:

bonesteal007: how was hanging wit shaun
GoldfishRulz: awesome...we talked for nearly 2 hours
GoldfishRulz: after we got back
bonesteal007: damn
GoldfishRulz: what?
bonesteal007: u should come over here
bonesteal007: and talk
GoldfishRulz: nah...i'm about to go to bed
bonesteal007: ok
bonesteal007: sleep well
bonesteal007: wat are u afraid of drunk guys
bonesteal007: or a drunk me
GoldfishRulz: no, i'm just about to go to bed
bonesteal007: ok well sleep well i talk to u later tuesday'
GoldfishRulz: good night
bonesteal007: good nacht

Seriously, why would you want to get drunk? Like I would go over and talk to him while he's inebrieated.

Mama!

Just so I can remember--

Last weekend, April 10, Peter said "Mama." It's since become much clearer! Oh, how I love this boy!

The back story

I promised Sunday that I would post the back story behind my Way Back When Post. This is it:

Angel Tree campers come on Sunday on buses, with individuals, etc, and are typically from cities. Most are African American, though there are other races represented (obviously, this shows the race break-down of our prison system). Each girl is given a backpack with a Bible and toiletries for the week. Some of these girls desperately need these items, because they barely have enough clothes to cover them until Wednesday when they go home.

Anyway, the summer I wrote this, I was a unit leader, so I didn't have any campers in my cabin. Instead, I helped out the three cabins in my unit. It wasn't easy by any means. We had night time struggles for sure, and I spent nearly every night sitting in a cabin helping maintain order.

But one camper sticks out in my mind. Nearly four years later, I can't remember her name, but she was in a different unit. This girl was probably 120 pounds. At the time, I was around 150. Keep in mind, we only had girls who were in grades 4-7, so she was considerably younger than me. This girl needed special attention all the time. She couldn't be left alone at all. I spent campfire night (my favorite time!) following her around as she carried my big fire-poking stick. At one point, she was sitting on the camp golf cart, while I surreptitiously removed the key from the ignition. Her taking it was a very real fear.

But the real problems came when it was time to leave. A couple from a church picked up some boys across the road, and then came to get her and a couple other girls. She desperately didn't want to go home, but she didn't want to stay either. I honestly think us loving on her was just as scary (being the unknown) as going home to her situation. Anyway, I wound up wrestling her into the van while she screamed and fought me. It was bad enough that the driver was threatening to not take her. Yeah...not the right thing to say.

But what prompted my post was the feelings that I had toward her. I knew this girl needed love; that was undeniable. I knew she was abused at home. What I wasn't prepared for was the strong desire I had to hit her and tell her to straighten up. I've never wanted to physically hurt someone, but I could have that day. It's not a feeling I had never had before, and I hope to never have again. As the van drove off (with her sitting in the front seat, calm and buckled in!), I broke down. Another counselor came up and hugged me telling me that she understood how hard it was to send them home. That wasn't it for me at all. I was scared of my reaction, relieved that she was gone. I had always wondered how someone could hurt a child. In that instant, I discovered how easy it could be to give in to those feelings. I resisted. Many don't.

One day, I believe I'll end up in a job where I help people who struggle with this kind of stuff. For now though, I'll just remember sitting on a stump by the pool, crying because it's hard.

A look way back

Adrienne at Irwin Beans started a blog series today entitled "Old School Sunday." I like the idea, so I'm going to try to post a few of my old musings.

I wasn't super dedicated to keeping my old blog (on xanga, no less), but I had some rather deep thoughts in my first couple years of college. They were definitely wordy, but I was working through a lot of stuff.

So the post I'm sharing today is from 2007, written during my final summer at camp. I had just declared my double major at that point, so you can see the sociological/criminal justice sides of me both in this entry. I can also remember being so sure of what I was supposed to do with my life. It's funny now, because while community policing still appeals to me, I never thought I would wind up in an office job. Re-reading it, a lot of feelings came flooding back. I'll have to get into them at a different time. Let's just leave it for now as that was the first time at camp I had broken down at the end of a week (in four years), and I had a hard time explaining it to my co-workers who were living it. It'll take some work to word it in such a way that it makes sense to people who weren't there.

All that said, here's the post (from Thursday, July 5, 2007).

I'm so confused...we had Camp Angel Tree this week. It's a sponsored camp in which every girl that comes to CMV has at least one of her parents in prison. (The guys also host at Caraway.) Many of the girls know about where their parent is, others do not. Some live with one parent, some live with grandparent(s), others with other family members, or are in foster care. Some come in and are perfect little angels. Others come in with so much pent up anger and other deep-rooted issues. Some are Christians, others never go to church. It was a tough week. But the reason I'm confused is that we as a society seem to be failing these children. Some staff were made at decisions that parents had made. I'm not; in some ways, I believe these girls can have better chances at life BECAUSE of their parent being in prison. They go to a foster family that can show them real love, or live with other family members that can take real care of them. But I'm not saying that I don't have issue with choices their parents have chosen to make. There is a problem when you rape someone in front of your child, or rape your child. There is a problem when you murder in front of your child. There is a problem when choices you have made so deeply hurt your child that they don't know how to safely release their feelings. No, I'm angry that we had fourth graders that didn't know how to read, and girls that had panic attacks because something spooked them, or girls that just wanted to hurt other girls. I'm angry because I found myself getting really frustrated with them, when I really just needed to love them even more. I'm angry because we couldn't show each of them the amount of attention they needed, cryed out for. I'm angry because they are the forgotten children. Yes, I know that I'm a criminal justice major, that I want to put people behind bars. I still do. Some of the parents of these girls I would have liked to personally caught. But just because their parents did something wrong is no reason for society to forget about the children. Our educational system is too bogged down to help the girls that can't read--that would require individual instruction, and teachers don't have the time or resourses for that. There's a problem when a girl is kicking and screaming, but the people who came to pick her up don't want to care enough about her to even try to calm her down, instead just say that they don't want her in their vehicle like that. There's a problem when a girl is screaming over and over because she is terrified, and some people just want to send her home--making her feel unwanted. All in all, I see that we have problems in our society, but of course, we all already knew that. But what can we do. We, meaning our generation, are going to have to make a difference. We need to get involved with communities. We need to see that love is the way. I know that's hard. I know that sometimes, love is the toughest thing to give. But I also know that it can make a difference. I've seen it. Repeatedly. More than anything, this week just reinforced to me that I am meant to work in communities. Law Enforcement agencies are developing a system called COP--community oriented policing. It works more to keep the community involved to help cut down on crime, to keep the community informed. It's having programs in schools to help children. I know that it's hard to change things. I know that I can't change anything on my own. All I know is that, one day, I would like to be able to talk to kids that are struggling, but see that they are going to be ok, because enough people care about them. I want them to feel loved.

A boy and his cat

Peter and I spent some time outside earlier in the week, and Sam wanted to get in on the action. He loves to be wherever Peter is, and let's Peter pull his fur and spit up on him.

I love that they're both licking/chewing on their hands/paws.

My little man

These are just a couple of my favorite 6 month pictures of Peter!