Blessing Preston

We blessed baby Preston last weekend in Andrew's home ward. He's already 3 months old, but we wanted to wait until both our immediate families could both be there, and I'm glad we did - it was a really special day. Andrew gave a beautiful blessing, and I felt so proud to be momma to that obese healthy baby boy.

Here are some pics of the day:

    Sweet face! 

Ready to have the rolls unleashed on you?

Boom! Don't his arms look like Popeye's? ....If Popeye seriously let himself go? Andrew's wonderful Aunt Suzie made this little blessing gown, and it does a great job masking his enormous thighs. She should start a plus size baby line.

We love you so, handsome little man! Intensely grateful to call you our own.

My Thoughts on Thanks

Lately, when I feel discouraged or inadequate, I've found the quickest cure is to kneel and thank Heavenly Father for all He's given me. So simple. And it always works. I come to Him down, and in seconds, feel my heart bubble over with gratitude, peace and love. In a world that loves a quick-fix, it's a wonder this isn't a more common practice.

Aren't we all after happiness? I've learned gratitude is the fastest route. Gratitude coupled with humility. I'm a mighty proud woman (don't ask me why); but, when I humble myself and see the hand of God in my life, I can't help but be overcome with profound gratitude. It's a really, overwhelmingly good feeling.

So last week as we all celebrated Thanksgiving, I made an extra effort to mentally keep counting my blessings. It wasn't hard...and it made me feel so consistently happy. At the top of my list was family - and I was glad to be able to spend the holiday in Kentucky with Andrew's family, who I LOVE. And I've never been one to throw around that word (Clip from home video of my dad interviewing me at age 5: Dad: "Who's your boyfriend, Sarah?" Me: "Patrick." Dad: "Do you love him?" Me: [stone-faced] "LIKE, not love."), but I really do. Awesome in-laws: Blessing number 52,801.

Anyway, we had so much fun hanging out together for 5 whole days, celebrating what is really a perfect holiday, and ushering in the season of the only one that trumps it.

 All the boys sporting their plaid

Joey has a tradition of lifting the kids up while they hang their "Baby's First Christmas" ornament.

 

Joey and Kim hanging the 1978 ornament from their first Christmas together

Chewing the imaginary gum Asher had just offered him

Everyone together 

This time of year is special, and it's easy to think about how richly blessed we are when there's a national holiday set aside for the sole purpose. But I move we cease to reserve Thanksgiving for November. Maintaining an ever-grateful heart will bring us happiness and draw us nearer to our Father. 

The oh-so-simple bottom line: when it comes to thanks, give it. :)

Asher the Kid

Asher is wearing me out. Usually, I refer to him as my "child." My "buddy." My "little first-born." But I've found these terms are subject to change.

When the boy finds time to smear toothpaste and vaseline all over our bathroom, paint the couch with yogurt, color the computer with sharpie, all while communicating exclusively through fit and whine, my maternal scales are involuntarily tipped, and Asher becomes my "KID." 

Kid. It's a moderately harsh term reserved for the harried parents of misbehaving children. Which lately, I am. Maybe the unauthorized artwork of a fussy, disobedient toddler doesn't seem criminal, but I've certainly been robbed of my patience from time to time. And "Asher the Kid" is a pretty fitting name for a future outlaw. Or inmate.

Our last week or two have been "Kid" weeks. Ash man has been extra sneaky, defiant and whiny. He seems to be regressing, which may be expected with a new baby around. It still stinks. I do feel terrible about being less available...but the toddler is certainly making me pay for it. Every day upon witnessing his newest scene of destruction, I utter the same phrase: "Are you kidding me?!"

Well....turns out that's exactly what he's doing.

Anyway, Asher certainly senses and responds to my dissatisfaction. There's definitely some tension between us at times. Here's proof:

His bedtime prayers: "Dear Heathery Father, we're thankful for Daddy, and thankful for Preston, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen."

Asher: "Daddy says 'Just a minute,' and Asher says 'Just a second'.

Me: "Oh, really? What does mommy say?"

Asher: "'Dang it!'"

Haha, thanks for reminding me of how short I fall, you little stinker! I need to be a more patient, loving mommy. And you need to stop kidding me. :)