Gettin' Ready for the Pumpkin Patch

Haven and I, along with some friends, went to a pumpkin patch yesterday. We took a hay ride, picked out a pumpkin, ate dirt (Haven and her little friends), played in the corn box (like a sandbox, but with corn kernels), pet some goats...you get the idea. I think the mommies were more impressed with it all than the babies, but that's probably to be expected since all the babies were under one year of age.

The Little Girl at Walgreens

I thought this was cute: today my mom and I left Haven with my Dad and Chris (when we came back she was smoking cigars and belching--but that's not what this post is about). We left her so we could go get a flu shot. What a fun mother/daughter outing, no? Anyway, there was a line of people in front of us including a mother with her young daughter. The little girl must have been about 7 or 8. She was nervous about getting her flu shot. Her dad went first and she asked him if it hurt. He said no, but you could tell that she didn't really believe him.

My mom started talking to the little girl (her name was Disney, if you can believe it). She told her that she loved shots when she was a kid because she got a sucker. You could read the naked fear on her little face. But, when it was her turn she didn't cry a bit. I told her she was very brave. And then it was our turn. And the cute part? She held my hand while I had mine done just in case I was frightened. She was precious.

Overwhelmed

I would really love to write a blog about something meaningful and important. But, I lack the wakefulness required for that. I also lack the brain power. I think that since Haven's been born, my IQ has dropped at least 23 points. I go into rooms and can't remember why I'm there. I forget words. I'm not old enough to have senior moments, so it must be the almost 7 months without 8 hours sleep in one nice chunk. I do always remember to eat, though, so things can't be that bad.

In addition, I feel like my spiritual life is on hold. I'm not heavily involved in any occult activities, but I'm also not hosting revivals in my house either. There must be an in-between. I think that's where I am. I'm the peanut butter between the bread. A little salty and a little sweet. I hope that doesn't mean luke-warm because if you've read Revelation, then you know that's a dangerous place to be. Does God make exceptions for tired moms and dads? I think he must because I don't feel any deep condemnation. I kind of feel like He's waiting on the other end of the line for me to pick up. It isn't often that I view God very lovingly. Not because He hasn't shown me His love for me, but because it's easier to view Him as a guy with His hand raised to strike. But, for some strange reason He seems so tender and patient right now.

Sometimes at night when I hold Haven and think about how He promised her to me, I am overwhelmed. Isn't that just like Him to overwhelm? I like that about my God. His mercy, His goodness. And His ability to make a grand gesture.

Cowgirl

Haven was exposed to the Western side of things today. We had dinner with some friends from church who happen to have a horse (isn't that a lovely bonus?--Well, I think it is). I've been itching to ride Buck but it didn't work out last time I was there. Maybe I was pregnant and they were frightened I would break the horse's back. I can't remember.
Haven got to meet the horse today. She wasn't real sure what to think. She eventually decided she liked his ears. And tried to put one in her mouth. But, other than that, I think we'll have to wait a bit for her love to really shine through.

Head Banger

Now that Haven is more mobile it seems like everyday I hear a big thump followed by a wail. Which means she didn't hang on hard enough as she was attempting to scale the kitchen chair or the basket in the hallway. She is currently sporting a very cool bruise on her forehead. She has about half a dozen scratches all over her face from her super sharp fingernails as well. In other words, she looks like a scrapper.

I try to intercede when I can see disaster looming as she holds on to the couch swaying precariously close to the sharp edges of the coffee table. But, what do you do when she's crawling after Sophie to get a handful of nice, black puppy hair and misjudges the distance smacking her face on the kitchen tile? What do you do?

Redirecting her also serves very little purpose. She's got her mind made up where she wants to go, and so it is useless to hand her a toy or place her in a less risky situation because, darn it, she is determined. My sweet baby girl looks like a prize fighter. And she's not even walking yet.

Half a Year Old

And she's learned how to pull up in her crib. This morning she crawled all the way across the room to me. She wanted me to pick her up, so she was fussing the whole time. So far that's the furthest she's crawled. I can't believe she's already half way to her first birthday.

California Dreamin'

Haven and I are back from a wonderful trip to the San Francisco/Monterey Bay area. My parents offered to share a hotel suite with the two of us, and so I braved flying alone with a six-month old. She did really well.

It was gorgeous country. I could smell all the artichokes that the farmers were growing as we drove along the coast. I love artichokes.

Haven was rather unimpressed by all the things I was excited about. The ocean, the seals, the yummy seafood. She found it all rather blase. Her favorite was the sand and the seaweed. She enjoyed tasting both. Over and over again. Here are some of my favorite pics from the trip:

Tasting sand for the first time

Marina in Monterey Bay

Tree House at cool hippy cafe in Big Sur

Beach at Carmel by-the-Sea

Monterey