for your viewing pleasure

ok, party people, we've finally put some new pictures up of ella on our little family blog. the link is on the right (i still need to learn how to put links in my actual post). enjoy!

you are Such a tease

First you take forever to let a cool breeze in, then after everyone gets excited and pulls out sweaters you promptly return in full force. Excuse me, Heat, it is October 18. I should not be in a tank top and shorts. My baby shoud not be sweating in her crib while sleeping in a sleeveless onesie sporting fish. She needs to be in a sweatshirt like she was last week.

Even the two, pretty pumpkins I literally climbed into a huge barrel to buy (don't expect me to hope for cool weather with ugly pumpkins) did not persuade you to go. You laughed and your breath made it hotter. Do you not smell the incense I burn (well, my Hazelnut Cream and Baked Apple Pie candles)? Don't you think you should kindly comply and go your merry way?

You have the entire Southern Hemisphere waiting for you - is that not enough? Are you really that insecure that you won't let your coveted cousin, Cold, come (and doesn't my alliteration impress you? or at least scare you away?)? Heck, just let your half-brother, Cool, visit us.

I no longer want to see my neighbors watering their yard. I no longer want to wear flip-flops, or if I do, I want my toes to be cold. I no longer want to sleep under our Summer covers. I want the big guns. I want the down comforter. I no longer want to order caramel frappucinos (decaf) - I want mochas (decaf)! I no longer want to use air conditioning in my car or my house. These are my heartfelt pleas.

All I know is that you'd better be packing your bags for at least 4 months (that's not too much to ask, is it?) by October 31. My baby will be a bunny, and although bunnies Do frolic during the warm months, her costume is furry and warm and I don't want a sweaty, sad bunny.

Don't you worry, I'll be calling on you soon enough. But I need my space. Too much of anything is not a good thing, right?

Daydreaming

When I was little, like most children, I had a bedtime. I had to abide by this set time, regardless of my level of tiredness - sometimes I was sad about it, but most of the time I looked forward to lying in bed, and letting my imagination take over. I often think longingly back to those days, where I would look up at the picture hanging above my bed, and make the characters come to life. The picture was of all the woodland animals making their way to school - which was held beside a tree, of course. I would give them names, backgrounds, conversations and friendships. Many winter nights I would lie under my flannel sheets in my flannel nightgown and create "lightning" by flapping my sheets up and down. But mostly I would just daydream, even though it wasn't really day.

I never daydreamed in class. The great Calvin of Calvin and Hobbes was always going on some crazy mind adventure during classtime. Not me. I was too afraid of getting into trouble, like the way it always ended with Calvin. I was definitely more like Suzie. Perfect example: the first time I ever got my name written on the board was in seventh grade. The troublemaker in the class kept poking and pestering me, until I finally turned around and violently exclaimed, "Leave me ALONE, Mark!" Instantly our names went on the board, and I was devastated. It was everything I could do to not cry. So, no daydreaming for me. Plus, I might have missed something really important that might have been on a test, or just plain interesting (yep, I was That kid).

As I got older, the nights grew later and I fell asleep the second my head hit the pillow. I am still an insta-sleeper, and that's okay by me. I'm not exactly sleeping in anymore these days. And I've never taken the time to just Space Out. I'm always occupying my time. Even if it's actually enriching my mind, it still isn't Just my mind chewing on whatever's floating around in there.

I have been pleasantly surprised, however, by the re-entry of daydreaming in my life. As I've mentioned before, I have a baby who doesn't like to nap apart from me (the more time goes by and I try to figure out her personality, I think she just doesn't want to miss anything, and if I'm with her she feels like nothing must be going on so it's safe to sleep. I think. But of course I don't know. I've only been a mom for seven months, and Ella can't talk. But I'm pretty sure that's it.). So we spend a lot of time in the rocking chair, as I've talked about before. I've come to really love time in the rocking chair. Ella squirms for a while, but then she always makes her way to the crook of my neck. Once she's there, I know she's sleeping - or pretty darn close. And my body instantly relaxes.

It takes a few minutes for my mind to follow suit. I first have to scroll through all the logistics of the day, get things sorted out and put in their places. And then the Wandering begins. I don't even know really what I think about, but isn't that the point? Pretty soon it's been half-an-hour, and we're still rocking. Ella's happily sleeping, I'm happily wandering, and my knees beginning to protest. But still we rock. And sleep. And wander.

teeth, scullery maid, & a rearranged room

Lots of things are happening at the Osenga homestead. It seems like Ella is just growing before our eyes. Okay, that's really cliche', but it's true! Every day there seems to be a new development or change, and her smiles are getting bigger and bigger and pretty much constant (which is awfully fun). I feel like she's almost a whole new baby then she was just a couple of months ago. She makes me laugh all the time, and I like to laugh, so that works out nicely.
Last Sunday I was feeding her applesauce, and I put my pinky in her mouth so she could lick some off....lo and behold I felt something sticking out from her bottom gum. Today I am happy to report that she has two little teeth growing in, and even happier to report that she doesn't seem to be affected too negatively by the whole process. I even have a slight suspicion that a third bottom tooth is starting to crown, but that may be just a little too crazy.
Of course I have happy and sad moments about the tiny teeth. It's very exciting, and her teeth are just in time to be little snags for Halloween...but then she'll never have that all-gums baby smile again. It's silly, I know, but now I'm a mom so I have to be overly sentimental, right?
Speaking of, we rearranged Ella's room tonight, so that her crib wouldn't be in the direct middle of her drafty windows. I love that it's colder, but the poor thing can't sleep with a blanket, so we've got to keep her environment as pleasant as possible. I like the way everything is set up, but, again, I'm currently all nostalgic for the old way. It IS how the room was arranged when we brought her home from the hospital, and now there are the all-important questions like, "where do we put the night light?"
Her verbal repertoire is steadily growing. And by verbal, I mean, the craziest noises you could ever imagine. Her current favorite is what seems to be a very proficient gargling of saliva. This takes place most often when she's lying on her back (I guess that Would make it easier) and especially if people are talking and not paying attenting to her. The other day my mom and I were talking in her room - she was on her blanket nearby - and she started gargling. That soon changed to her new squawk. This is not an unhappy sound, to her anyway. I think it's hilarious, and total strangers think I'm pinching her (like one man in Subway asked). My friend, Melissa, said if her head started spinning she's outa there. It's pretty disconcerting if you've never heard it. It's like some sort of call of the wild. And it's awesome. Anyway, if that sound doesn't get your attention, she promptly rolls onto her stomach and performs "the airplane." This is a common baby move where they lift their head and all limbs at the same time, looking like they are flying. It's pretty great. If a toy is nearby, she picks it up with her mouth during the whole thing. Impressive, actually. And, of course, if you look over during any part of her performance she instantly rewards you with a huge smile displaying her two little ridges.
Also this past week, my friend, Adrienne, put a burp cloth on Ella's head - I mean, why not? So she did, and the result was something very reminiscent of a scullery maid back in the olden days. We promptly told Ella to get cracking on that stew and to scrub the floors, but she decided she'd rather play the piano. I'm glad she did.

And here she's pondering the perfect song to play.

Life is good.

Coming to the table

Our responsive hymn to the Lord's supper today, was "In Christ Alone." I first heard this song at a wedding. I was three months pregnant and overwhelmed with awe at the miracle that is life. The line "From life's first cry to final breath, Jesus commands my destiny" brought me to tears, and it still does.
I was surprised that I wasn't familiar with it, and it wasn't until today that I realized it was written just a couple years ago. Proof that there is such a thing as the modern-day hymn.

In Christ Alone

In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light my strength my song
This Cornerstone, this solid Ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm
What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled when strivings cease!
My Comforter my All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand

In Christ alone! - who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless babe!
This Gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones He came to save
Till on that cross as Jesus died
The wrath of God was satisfied -
For every sin on Him was laid:
Here in the death of Christ I live

There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain
Then bursting forth in glorious Day
Up from the grave He rose again!
And as He stands in victory
Sin's curse has lost its grip on me
For I am His and He is mine -
Bought with the precious blood of Christ

No guilt in life no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From life's first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny
No power of hell no scheme of man
Can ever pluck me from His hand
Till he returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I'll stand!


-Keith Getty & Stuart Townend