The Dangers of Parking Off-Site and Having A Cute Kid

First things first. Our church has a parking problem. With a name like Houston's First Baptist Church, that's to be expected. Houston and Baptist go together like peas and carrots. But not like wine and cheese. No, definitely not...  Anyway, to alleviate the parking headache, members are asked to park in one of the many off-site lots. We happily oblige because nothing, I repeat, NOTHING beats covered parking in Houston in June (and July and August and September and October...).

Secondly, today is Father's Day. Not just any Father's Day, but David's FIRST Father's Day. Sure, we celebrated Father's Day last year, but last year our little cherub was still in utero. Now that said cherub is here among us, Father's Day is just more... I don't know...real.

Today, we parked off-site as usual. Because I was wearing less-than-practical shoes, David volunteered to carry the little guy into church. We were just walking and talking our way through the parking lot and then this happened:

And on Father's Day no less. I just had to take a picture.  And then another picture.

And another picture.

And then another one, because I just couldn't get the angle just right.

And then, this happened:

No, that is not a cute kid. Yes, that is asphalt.

I had bitten it in the middle of the parking lot. Somehow, while paying more attention to snapping the perfect photo than where my less-than-practical shoes were stepping, my less-than-practical shoe heel stepped in a hole and down I went.

David, of course, yelled "Jennifer! Are you OK!?"  I stood up, stumbled a few steps, looked down and all I could think of was...my pants. I had ripped a hole in the knee. A big dirty, bloody hole. These were not just any pants, but my first pair of pants I had bought after giving birth to Jakob. Colored pants had just come in style last spring, but being preggo and all, I could not wear them last spring. So, the minute I could fit back into a normal people size, I hauled my size 10 booty to Gap to buy some colored pants. These very colored pants.  "Are you OK?" David said again.  "My pants." was all I could get out.  He knew I was fine.

I have no idea how my upper body landed. I was carrying Bible in one hand and phone in the other.  Neither hit the ground.  It was probably the diaper bag that broke my fall. Those things come in handy in more ways than one.

I don't mean to sound materialistic about the pants. I know it's not a huge deal to ruin one article of clothing, but when your clothing budget is as limited as ours is and your wardrobe is as 2008 as mine is, it stings a little. And not just on the knee.

Let me say that I looked real cute walking around church with torn, dirty, and bloodied pants. You know your Bible study is made up of good friends when you're not embarrassed about the situation but rather can't wait to tell the story.

Moral of the story: next time, ask David to kindly stop and pose for a photo. And maybe wear some more practical shoes.

Parenting Myths Debunked

Confession: we were that couple.  Very "wisely" assessing the parenting methods of each set of parents we observed in public based on the behavior of their children.  Clearly, the parents of the child pitching a fit at the table next to ours at Lupe Tortilla just didn't have it together.  "They need better discipline," we would quietly whisper.  Then, over our queso at our table for two, we would proceed to predict how we would be stellar parents and have stellar children.  "We will never do x, y, or z and we will always do a, b, and c."  Because, as we all know, children are little robots.

How hard can raising children be? I mean, really.  Let's start with the infant phase (the only one we have experience with). They start out as adorable little breathing dolls who just lie there, whimper when they want to be fed, and go right back to sleep. Life just goes on as it once did except now there is a tiny sleeping cherub in the living room with you.  When the baby gets older, all that is required of mom is to feed, change, and play with said adorable little breathing doll.  Easy, right?  And then....

WHAM!

Jakob, the most adorable little breathing doll, entered our lives.  Throughout the 7  months of his life with us, we have had several "uhhhh yeah, we had no idea what we were talking about" moments.  I've assembled a few of these myths that we (or I) took as fact in our pre-Jakob days.

1. Staying at home with a baby all day is easy.  Holding and playing with an infant all day is fun.  Plus you get two 2-hour breaks every day to just sit on the couch, drink coffee, and read a book.  How hard can feeding a bottle and changing a diaper really be?

This isn't just "a baby."  This is YOUR baby.  The little human being who grew inside of you and demanded you eat sour cream and onion chips at 10 pm and drink gallons of cranberry juice every week  The little human being who will one day be a big human being with accomplishments, goals, and a life and family of his own.  The little human being with whom God has entrusted into your hands.  So naturally you obsess over everything.  Am I playing with him the right way? Does he have the right toys? Enough toys? Too many toys? Am I reading to him too much? Not enough? Am I reading the right books? Do I talk to him enough throughout the day? Is it my fault he's not taking good naps? Is he socialized enough? Do we stay home enough? No matter what, you are constantly fighting back feelings of failure and guilt.  It's easy as a non-parent to say "don't put so much pressure on yourself!" But when you're there in the trenches, that pressure is there and you feel it.

Also, as a parent, you're never "off."  You're on call 24/7.  Literally.  Sure, you can work in your pajamas, but a full night's sleep or full evening's rest is never guaranteed.  Case in point: last night, David and I were blissfully watching the television, when we heard a blood curdling cry coming from the nursery.  A-rocking I went.  Then to bed I went.  Then a-rocking I went again at midnight.  This doesn't end, I'm sure.  I just know that 3 years from now I'm going to wake up to a little blond-haired toddler standing next to my bed staring at me a la Paranormal Activity.  Changing pee-soaked sheets at 3 am will be fun, too, I'm sure.

2. Babies are born pre-programmed to wake at 7, take a one hour  nap at 9, take a two hour nap at 2, and go to sleep promptly at 7.  Hahahahahahahahahahaha....ha.....ha....  OK, not funny.  Ask me when Jakob is going to nap tomorrow. Can't tell you.  Ask me when he's going to nap today.  Can't tell you.  Ask me when he's going to wake up tomorrow.  Can't tell you.  Any time between 6-8:30 am is fair game for RISE AND SHINE AND CHANGE MY DIAPER.  Oh, and remember those two 2-hour coffee breaks I alluded to earlier?  That's funny.  On an average day I get three 30-minute "breaks."  If I'm lucky, one of those is an hour or so.  Usually over the course of those naps combined, I'm able to put my contacts in, change clothes, use the bathroom, eat something, make the house look less like a dump, and maybe send an email to a friend.  If I'm REALLY lucky, one of those naps will be 2 hours.  Then I get a coffee break :)

3. Missing a nap or pushing back bedtime won't kill you or the baby.  OK, maybe it won't cause actual death, but you will be asking yourself "why why why why did we allow this to happen" the next day.  Trust me on this one.

4. If you have a good marriage before the baby, everything will continue to be roses without extra effort.  I'll admit it. Whenever we would hear people say "marriage is hard," David and I would just smile and nod, not really knowing what that meant. Sure, we've hit a few bumps in the road like any couple, but I can't say we've ever thought this was particularly "hard."  We're best friends and communicate well and by golly we have FUN together. ...Then comes baby.  I don't think we had a real conversation the first 12 weeks of Jakob's life.  David would come home from work, and Jakob would enter the infamous "witching hour." He would cry pretty much straight until 7:30 (sometimes as late as 10).  One of us would shove dinner down our throat while the other one held Jakob and then tag team.  I would then pass out from sheer exhaustion as a result of bouncing a fussy 12 pound baby all day who JUST. WOULDN'T. SLEEP.   Jakob doesn't cry all evening anymore, but he's still there taking our attention away from each other.  Sure, he's asleep by 8 every night, but by then we're usually too tired to have any real one-on-one convo.  We are just SO thankful that our moms come in once a week so that we can have a weekly date night.

5. I already know what love is.  I love David.  I love my parents.  I love my friends.  But until you have a little person, who at one time depended on your body alone for sustenance, smile up at you and plant a big, slobbery, open mouth kiss directly onto your cheek, you can't really know what love is.  All of the other people in my life, I choose to love.  Jakob, I have to love.  

Now I know why in Scripture, God is always referred to as our "Father" and we are referred to as His "children."  Loving us is who He is.  Having this little guy in my life has helped me understand a little more God's love for His children.  And that is the greatest blessing of all. 

Well, there's some honesty for ya.  

Look! Another Blog!

OK, before you start reading into the title too much, the fact that "car seats" is plural means NOTHING. We have one child. We are happy with one child. Do we intend to have more in the future? Sure. But not now. Not within the next 9 months, anyway.

Now that we have that out of the way...

You may be asking yourself several questions right about now. Why "car seats"? That's easy. I'm a new mom. Why "quinoa"? I like quinoa. Really, I just like food. And alliteration.

This is a place for me to write about my/our experiences with LIFE. Parenting, food, music, travel, and everything in between.

Enjoy