7 Months of Perfection

I see now why 7 is the number for perfection in the Bible. Although, I didn't think there was anything wrong with 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, or 1 months, 7 is pretty awesome.

Since, it's still difficult to determine the exact lessons Zy's processing, I thought I'd jot down some of what I've been learning recently.

I'm learning that although the hours in a day may not be, kisses and hugs are infinite.  

I'm learning that even though your baby's a voracious drinker, that does not guarantee he will instantly be a voracious eater. More than a month into feeding solids, and Zy's yet to like anything we've offered him, except his teething carrot, which may as well be plastic for all he knows.

Mostly I'm learning that against all odds, and I'd bet most of your predictions, I'm the biggest pushover any baby's ever had for a mom. True to my no-nonsense personality I'm a pretty tough, direct, consistent, for-your-own-good teenager mom. But when it comes to Sweet Cheeks here, I'm a puddle. Like, a mushy puddle of apple sauce. And now that I'm often covered in apple sauce it seems fitting.

This kid will likely never sleep more than 5 hours in a row, cause I'm just convinced he'll starve overnight if I don't feed him at least once. I mean, if I let him start metabolizing some of those fat stores in his sleep, his thighs won't be nearly as squishy and wonderful.

I'm learning that I'm supposed to let him struggle and figure things out for himself, but that's a real struggle for me. I'll probably have to carry him to college cause I can't stand to leave anything far enough out of his reach that he has to move to get it. Plus, I barely let him out of my arms. This technique is surely terribly useless in building self confidence or mobility, but excellent for maintaining all that aforementioned thigh chub!

I've also been learning that my better half doesn't have any more of a backbone than I do when it comes to denying our munchkin. I've started firmly telling Zy "No" when he drops things off his high chair, and Jon's sure I'm scarring him for life.

I'm learning that just like so many people told us, it does just keep getting better. I didn't think it was possible.

I'm gaining empathy, acquiring patience, achieving gentleness, and finding so much joy.

And I'm learning more and more every day about God's unconditional love for us. At the University of Tennessee's vet school Bible study last week, we closed with How Deep the Father's Love for Us, and as I held my only son close, I teared up thinking of just how vast is His love for us that He gave His only Son to make us His treasure.


And now, what you're probably really here for, some photos of Zy's 7th month:

7 month birthday smorgasbord!



Smorgasbord gone terribly wrong.



Does anyone else see a young Otis from Andy Griffith here?







Made a new friend Elijah in Tennessee.



Trying to say "Bbbbbb," like his new friend, but only succeeding in spitting a lot.

Sissy's gonna have him in shape in no time.



Had a sweet visit from his doting great grandparents.







So grown up.

But still my spoiled rotten cuddle bug.

Fall Can Be a Growing Season Too

Yesterday, at the park, a covering of dry brown leaves blanketed much of our path, letting us know that fall is on its way. Here in the Charles' home we're changing seasons as well.

A few weeks ago, Jon started an MBA program at the University of Louisville (proving he really doesn't bleed as blue as he says he does), and shifting us into some new routines. For 20 months, Jon will work during the day, go to class and study at night, and reach whole new levels of time management he didn't even know existed when he went through college the first time, ten years ago. So far, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, when he kisses Isaiah and me before leaving for work, we're in bed for our morning snuggle, and when he comes, home he finds the whole family tucked away in our respective beds for the night. I don't even think the dog is waiting up for him! The poor guy's barely seen me in anything but nursing tank tops for the past six months, now he won't see me in anything other than pajamas...

Instead of looking at this as the struggle it appears to be on the surface, I'm searching for the opportunities hidden beneath. I mean, I started out as a single mom for the first year and a half, so this is just part-time solo-parenting.

Already it's been great for my relationship with Angie. Sometimes you just need some extended one-on-one time to reconnect and get your groove back. Like any teenager, she resists boring stuff like a walk in the park with her old uncool mom, but it never fails to lead to opening up and sharing. We're slowly solving the world's problems, well at least middle school's, which probably accounts for a large percentage. When her peers are hateful toward adoption, it hurts now, but it motivates her to be a better adoption advocate in the future and make a difference for other adopted kids when they're in such a vulnerable stage.


She wants so desperately to know about her babyhood. She vacillates between nightmares about her former family and almost waxing nostalgic, "I wonder if my other family still thinks about me. I wonder what my sister's doing now..." And I have the time to give her wandering thoughts my undivided attention, exactly what they crave.

And although I spend almost every waking moment, and far too many non-waking ones, with this little guy, I still just can't get enough of him. His two budding incisors remind me with every one of his huge no-longer-toothless grins, that he will never again be my tiny baby. Do any of you loyal readers (Mom) remember when Angie wore dangly earrings for the first time and I was convinced she was basically leaving for college?

Now, that Isaiah has teeth I'm sure I'll be dancing with him at his wedding any minute now, so I must make the most of every single moment he'll let me cuddle him.


And finally, Jon. Although this won't be a season for us to invest in each other through quality time, this is just another opportunity for me to die to self and learn how to put others first. As our differences in scheduling, study habits, and choices are highlighted, I'll have an abundance of chances to bite my tongue and support him through this. As he wrestles with insomnia after class, I have trouble turning my brain ON not OFF, and wonder how anyone could waste even a minute of available sleep time. Already, I find my instinct is to feel that I'm the one getting the short end of the stick here, but really the guy's not going to an amusement park every night! He's doing something hard to help our family and he's being pulled in more directions than I am, and sacrificing time he'd love to spend with us.


You know, other than the still-sleepless nights, things were really starting to get a little too easy around here. I may be the only wife who strives for an uncomfortable home, always looking for the next thing to stretch us and keep us from getting complacent. God is very faithful to provide such opportunities when we ask. :)