God Knows

Today is my 33rd birthday. I am genuinely happy about that.

At lunch I sat talking to my 84 year old grandmother. She has always been extremely intelligent. She had a college degree when most women didn't. She loves politics, world events, and was always a voracious reader. When I was a kid she would spend hours doing the crosswords from various newspapers. Today she tried to tell me a story and got completely lost in it, unable to think of the simple vocabulary she needed in order to finish. She forgets how to work her TV, can't tell if it's morning or evening, and can't remember if she has eaten. She is broken, and it's difficult to watch.

It reminds me that all the knowledge we can obtain during this life is such a temporal thing. We shouldn't trust in the frailty of the human mind. There is only one Truth that really matters, and knowing God is one thing that our heart and mind will never forget. And, thankfully, God doesn't have memory problems!

He remembers her, and she remembers Him. I am thankful that another 50 years down the road, no matter what I have learned or forgotten during this life, love for my Savior will always be a part of me.

And, I'm not worried about my grandmother. God knows enough for the both of them.

Too Two

It was a dark and stormy night...

And a two year old was in my bed, kicking me in the ribs at three in the morning.

Two year olds are a strange breed. They have the power to both infuriate you and melt your heart, very often in the same two minute span. This particular two year old was tossing and turning, obviously thrown off by my request that he sleep while we spent a few days at my parents' house. For him, this concept didn't make sense. Why would he waste time sleeping at Granny's when there are endless sugary treats to consume, countless new toys to play with, and practically no rules? To sleep would be to betray his less fortunate brethren--the two year olds who were stuck at home with boring old Mom and Dad.

So, he fought it.

And just when I was about to take him back to his bed and let him deal with it, he looked at me with heavy eyes and said, "Mama, hold my hand." And that was it. He had me at "Mama." I held his chubby little hand and he dozed off.

I should have immediately passed out, considering how exhausted I was. But, some moments are just too perfect to sleep through.

Look, Mom, I'm Blogging!

Let me set the scene as I write: my two year old and my five year old are playing “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” on a toy with no volume control while they sing at the top of their lungs, jump on the couch, and simultaneously try to watch an old episode of “Davey and Goliath.” Not exactly a writer’s haven. But, it’s time to face facts. I am thirty-three. If I wait until I have a nice sunny office with a white desk and a piping cup of coffee, I’ll never write anything, other than my name on teachers’ notes and perfect-as-a-mom-can-make-it lettering on those presentation boards for school projects. Thus, this blog is born.

Now that I’m in my thirties, I’m discovering some things. Things like tricks for getting crayon off of a variety of surfaces. And how to make a pair of jeans last for four or five wearings before washing. And how to use coupons and a crock pot. Plus, I may be trying to set a record for the number of poopy diapers changed in a ten year period. But, there are deeper and more substantial things to learn in this decade, things that are not so funny to think about. And, I’m tackling those, too.

So, this is it—the online record of this fantastic decade. And maybe, if I limit the poopy diaper stories, someone besides my mom will read it.