My Boy

I love having a boy. 

Dirtied toes, fire trucks, ambitiousness, any variety of ball, collecting leaves, the need to rough-play on the floor, fearlessness, catching insects.  I could go on and on.  The little boy spirit is adorable to me, and I hope to encourage it in Sam.  

I told Scott just the other day that I’d be content with a house full of boys, if the Lord wills.  I’d like to have a quiver full of ‘em.

I feel blessed, privileged, that God would entrust us to raise a little boy.  There’s much to instill in him.  Leadership, diligence, protectiveness, good work ethic, gentleness, chivalry, a need to provide, unconditional love, self-discipline, wisdom and discernment.  I’d be lying if I said I’m not a tiny bit intimidated to think of my duty in raising a boy...a shepherd…a husband.  But, oh, it’s so fun.

Sometimes I have to remind myself when I’m disciplining our boy for the fourth time in one day that it’s a loving, gracious thing to do.  Exhausting, tedious, wearisome?  Yes.  And that’s when I preach to my despairing heart, “I’m spanking him because I love him too much to not spank him.”  I suppose sooner rather than later I’ll need to begin telling Sam that, as well.  Maybe it will help ease the pain for us both.

This verse has been my portion of strength lately:

“Whoever spares the rod hates his son, but he who loves him is diligent to discipline.”  Proverbs 13:24

Hooray for little boys who will hopefully grow up to be big boys that love their mommas, cut her grass, and drop by every once in a while for no particular reason. 

Not So Hired Help

Did you know I don’t clean my house all by myself?  Oh no.  I have help.  You know, someone to make my job a little easier.

  His specialty: bathtubs.  They’re just his size.

It gets tricky for him sometimes, though, and requires a little elbow grease.  A little…extra effort.

And on those days, I pay him with cheerios and diluted apple juice.  I’m glad he doesn’t charge much.

Cleaning bathtubs is so enjoyable for him that I have peel him away sometimes.  I have to just make him put the Pinesol down.  Such a workaholic.

Man, he’s going to be quite the catch one day.  Watch out, ladies.

A Sickly Bubba

First, I want to apologize for the obsessive header changing that’s been going on lately.  The previous green stripes were killin’ me.  And I found that quote up top that I’ve grown fond of and wanted to include it somewhere on this thing. 

And I had some downtime today while Sam was napping.  I should probably mention that, too.

Speaking of my little Bubba, he’s seen better days than this past week.  It started Thursday night when our Supper Club met for a quick dinner and then went to visit the newest member of the Club, little Miss Anna Lynn. 

We were having a lovely time until Scott, who was holding Sam on his hip, noticed something didn’t quite smell or feel right on the arm which was embracing Sam’s little bottom.

Needless to say, we made an abrupt exit from our visit.  Thankfully, some other dear friends in the Club lived two doors down and graciously allowed us to strip down Sam and borrow some of their two-year-old’s clothes.

Did I mention their two-year-old is a girl? 

I guess now we know what our little Sam would’ve looked like if he’d been a Samantha.  Pretty, if you ask me. :)

Anyway, he’s on the mend, and the stomach bug has just about dissolved.  Praise the Lord.

Hope you and yours are healthy and well.  Raise the roof if you’re ready for sick season to be over?! 

Christmased and De-Christmased

Howdy.  I sure hope you all had a happy Christmas.  Ours was everything merry.

Like most parents with a one year old who has everything he needs, we didn’t have a real extravagant Christmas.  Fred got a wagon {which my aunt and uncle graciously gave us---it had been collecting dust in their garage, but looked good as new!}, a play table, and few play clothes.  The boy was thrilled!

We spent Christmas Eve in Birmingham with my mom’s side of the family.  We have a little tradition that wherever we are on the eve of Christmas, we go to the Mall for a last minute whirl.  Call us crazy, but it was way too much fun for words. 

The day after Christmas, we had Sunday lunch with my dad’s side.  Again, loads of laughter was had by all.  In case you noticed in the picture collage, I fixed a cranberry casserole for our lunch contribution.  If you’re a cranberry kind of person, you gotta try it.

Yesterday, we de-Christmased the house and did some new year cleanin’.  It felt so, so good.  My motto about when to take down Christmas decorations: when it’s over, it’s over.  Bah humbug, right? =)

And here’s a little idea of what to do with this year’s Christmas cards, especially if you have a child who likes to look at faces:

You can find these cheap 4x6 photo books at Target.

It keeps Sam entertained for at least two minutes.  And, hopefully, it’ll help us remember to pray for our friends and family as we show Sam each page.

Hope you ALL had a wonderful season!  It’s almost 2011.  Where’d the year go?!

We Had a Party

We celebrated Sam’s first birthday with a brunch this past Saturday morning.  It was the most fun.

Our little house was busting at the seams with celebratory cheer.  In fact, it was busting so much that Sam was a wee bit overwhelmed.

Sweet boy wasn’t sure how he felt about the 50 or so folks packed inside our 1,900 square foot house.  

But, really, we were so flattered at the turnout and enjoyed seeing our friends and family---especially those who were from out-of-town.

My best friend, Lindsay, got to come and bring her girls.  Emmalyn, who is 8 months of precious, wanted a piece of Sam.  I think I laughed so hard I cried.

As the morning went on, he warmed up to our guests, and before we knew it, the little social butterfly had emerged from his cocoon. 

 

We finished out the day with a supper at my parents’ house and some caroling afterwards, which I hope is a new Head/Dudley family tradition. 

P.S. I had a few recipe requests during the party for the breakfast casserole and grits I made.  I’m almost embarrassed to post it because it’s so easy!  The grits recipe is here.  And here is the casserole:

1 can crescent rolls

1 lb. ground sausage

5 eggs

3/4 cup milk

2 cups sharp cheddar cheese

Preheat oven to 350.  Cook and drain sausage.  Spray a 9x13 dish with non-stick spray and line bottom of dish with crescent roll dough.  In separate bowl, whisk eggs and milk.  Sprinkle sausage and cheese on top of crescent rolls, and pour egg mixture evenly on top of that.  Bake for 30 minutes.

 

Hope you all have the merriest Christmas!

 

One

There’s just some things in life that will forever be engrained in my mind. 

Scott and I had just gotten to my grandmother’s house on a rainy May day where we and several other family members were gathering to eat supper.  My grandfather had passed away two days before, and sweet ladies of all ages from their church had loaded her kitchen table with varieties of homemade casseroles, cakes, and pastries.  As everyone reached for a Chinet plate and made a bee-line for the table, I sat quietly in my seat, wishing the lingering nauseous feeling in my stomach would go away.

I like food.  But even the mere sight of the sea of Pyrex dishes made me want to run to the bathroom.  What was wrong with me?

After visiting for several hours, Scott and I decided to head home.  We were newlyweds with a new (to me) house and new responsibilities, and we enjoyed this newness of life together---just the two of us.  As we small talked and made our way down Coliseum Boulevard, I looked up in time to see a CVS sign just ahead.  And it hit me like a ton of bricks out of nowhere: I wasn’t P R E G N A N T, was I?! 

“Pull up in there, Scott.  I need to get something real quick.”

Several positive pregnancy tests and $60.00 later, we were rid of our denial that, indeed, I was pregnant.  I don’t even think words can adequately describe how I felt: fear, excitement, baffle, nervousness, nauseous-ness.  My mind was like a pinball machine.

Everyone said we should wait at least a year before trying to have kids!  Are people going to think we got pregnant before we were married?!  Has Scott ever changed a diaper?  We’re still paying off student loans!  I don’t know how to potty train someone!  What doctor am I going to use?  BREASTFEEDING…yikes!

The next day, we decided we’d meet at the house during lunch to take one more pregnancy test.  You know, just to make sure.

And the rest was history.  Our precious honeymoon baby was born nine months and 4 days after we said “I do.”  We couldn’t have been more thrilled.

Samuel Ingle Dudley, 3:01 P.M. {birthing story here}

      

I know it’s cliché to say, but, truly, having a child opens a new window of understanding Christ’s love for His children, His love for those who have trusted in Him.  It’s true that having a child deepens our understanding of His love for us.

But even more than that, though, having a child has enlightened me of the depth of God’s love for His son.  Like the scriptures say, God’s love is the most perfect, purest love imaginable.  Deeper and wider than comprehension.  And not that it’s fathomable in it’s entirety, but even just tasting a drop of this ocean, now that I have a son of my own, leaves my mind racing and heart skipping.  There’s no words, really.  What a love.

And yet the bitter cup of God’s wrath that was reserved for me and for you to drink, God sent a holy, pure, blameless Lamb to drink instead.  The son He loved more than the human brain can understand, He willed to humiliate on behalf of mine and your sin.  The beloved Christ was made nothing---emptied of all rights and privileges of the glories of Heaven---to come to earth on our behalf.  “And the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.” (Isaiah 53:6)

It’s hard to fully explain my love for our sweet baby.  It’s a “I’d-jump-in-front-of-a-train-for-you” kind of love, to say the least.  And, yet, it doesn’t even hold a candle to what the Author of love has for the Son.  It’s incomparable. 

I’m beyond thankful for the blessing of Sam.  Truly, his little life is a gift to me and Scott that we’re undeserving of.  But my hope is that he would grow to see parents who treasure Christ above all---even him.  We need a lot of grace.  Lots.     

Happy Birthday, sweet Sam.  May the Lord draw your heart near to Him and have mercy on your precious life as you grow.  We love you.

Busy

I do apologize for the week long blog sabbatical.  But I think the rest of this post will help you understand where we’ve been.

We’ve been busy playing peek-a-boo.

We’ve been busy working on the air conditioning vents.

 

We’ve been busy eating Cheerios off the floor…which, by the way, little eyes can spot from across the room.  It’s amazing.

And rearranging the chairs to our table. 

My motherly instincts could be terribly wrong, but a Little Someone’s personality sure is blooming here lately.  He and I both are learning how this whole cause and effect thing works.  I give a command…no touching.  He disobeys…magazines are flung off the coffee table.  And an effect is administered….

Repeat.

And although the little fellow in his one year of life is only dabbling into what I anticipate to be much more busyness to come, I do think he’s learning what “no” means.

Even with our busy days, I’m convinced there’s no other job I’d rather have.   It’s the best.

A Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Sam was in desperate need a little trim, so yesterday I took him to get his very first haircut.  He was starting to look a little hippy-ish.  A true frat-boy in the making.

My mom came along so I could snap a few pictures. 

Look at him---so happy about his very first haircut at 10 months old.

Amber, our long-time hair doer, put the “cape” on him and preceded to do what she does with all her clients and sprayed a little water on his hair. 

And he fell apart.  Lost all sense of himself.

We tried a sucker.  We tried singing “The Wheels on the Bus.”  We tried making every sound every truck on this planet earth makes.  I’m pretty sure I made a royal fool of myself. 

The kind receptionist brought us a different, more flavorful sucker.  He liked it, but not more than he disliked getting a haircut.

“Mom, why are you doing this to me?  Haven’t I had enough ‘trimming’ this week already?” 

We decided to move the party outside, thinking he could distract himself by watching the cars. 

Fail.  Just when we thought he was over it, he’d have another break down.  It really hurt his feelings that we’d do such a thing to him.  I mean, what kind of mom am I?

He had the sniffles for an hour after it was all over.  As soon as we got home, I gave him a long, warm bath to recuperate from the trauma I had caused him.  I washed his hair and gave it a good comb-over.

Edible. 

Who knows when our next haircut will be.  5?  12?  34?  I’m in no hurry.