Gratitude through anger

I just composed a lengthy post outlining and expounding upon some issues that have sparked a fire of anger within me. I deleted the post. As much as I want to vent, want to rave, want to lash out, I won't. It does no good. Yes I felt immensely better after composition but I have to consider how much damage might be done in my wake. There is no room on my shoulders for that kind of burden. So instead of anger I decided to focus on gratitude, those things in my life for which I am grateful. Hoping the change of focus will push out those "other" thoughts, the ones that would consume this hot-head faster than I care to admit.

For piles and piles of laundry, evidence of lives lived in full and fun

For living-room studded like a mine-field with toys, temporal memories of laughter and learning and love

For new, precious pictures of unborn babe and for attitude that isn't quite captured in the still of photography (this one seems as wild as the first two!)

For happy days of respite from morning/noon/night sickness. Ahhhh...to eat without punishment!

For loving partner, husband, friend -- ready on one day to fight for honor, the next to gently care through sick and the following to empathize with emotions too large for one person.

For tall grass, desperate for a trim -- evidence of healthy rainfall, God's plenty poured out for us

For a voice -- not so tiny any longer -- loudly teaching, instructing on Jesus's Disciples despite mother's prodding that time would simply not allow such a lesson.

For a God, awesome and powerful, listening close enough to touch mother's heart, to whisper in mother's ear that time is always available for disciple lessons, to remind mother her primary job is to train up the child in the way he should go

Mom and Me Pics

Every Father's Day I forcefully drag ask politely and gently coerce the boys into taking Daddy and Me pictures. By far these are my faves and I cannot wait to take this years; I've already booked the appointment. However, as much as I like these pictures I've never had a desire for Mommy and Me -- perhaps it's because I'm not a huge fan of having my picture taken. Anyway, this year Luke begged and pleaded on bended knee asked nicely if I would agree to the session. To be nice I said yes and had the pictures done. While I don't like them nearly as much as I do the Daddy and Me Pics, they turned out nicely and Luke is happy.

Here is a link to the photographer's blog with a slideshow of the recent Mommy and Me sessions -- There are three in the slideshow of me and some combo of the boys. Check 'em out.

Laura Odom Photography

Lately...

Where I (and my brain) have been lately.

~~~update: Soooooo glad it isn't Stella. See below if confused.


** Wondering if water is so "natural" why it makes me have to puke.
** Wondering why two-year-old molars come in WAY before two.
** Wondering (and sometimes worrying) why Jack writes his letters backwards but can read them correctly. Along with this is wondering (and again worrying) how I'm going to convince a 4-year-old that it's okay to be different when it comes to handedness
** Wondering why in the world it's not November yet...or at least June. (can you tell I'm over this morning sickness bit??) and then wondering why I don't have more patience to enjoy the ride even when it undoubtedly sucks.
** Wondering how long I can actually go without cleaning my house before we're overrun with filth (seriously...the 2nd trimester can't come soon enough).
** Wondering if I'm actually going to get some pink with this baby...and if I do, wondering what in the world I'm gonna do then??
** Wondering what to call the new addition. I don't even have a fake name for this baby yet. (For those that don't know, we called Jack - Octavius Deshante and Sam -- Judah Ben-Hur until we knew boy or girl.)
** Wondering how two little boys can drink 1274923987732 gallons of milk a week. And how after drinking that milk they don't weigh two tons each.
** Wondering how only two little boys can destroy faster and more completely my house and backyard than the entire playgroup of over 25 little kids in one afternoon. Must be all the milk.
** Wondering when we're going to get to the "mother" in How I Met Your Mother and hoping it isn't Stella...

Alternate Realities

Last night Luke and I went on a date and, besides the absence of crazies that two little boys usually bring, we had a normal night. We ate a normal dinner (Hasta la Pasta, yum), saw a movie at a normal theater (Ghosts of Girlfriends Past...ehhhh, a rather risque take on a Dickens idea) and had normal dessert at a normal cafe (Ohh la la...decent cupcakes, great cheesecake). After our delightful yet entirely normal evening we returned home to spend some time hanging out on the couch and watching some normal tv and having normal conversation. And that's the last thing I remember -- of normal anyway.

We were watching a little late night ESPN, checking on the draft picks and their first days at mini-camps when I was shocked awake from what I thought was my normal life. ESPN reported that Mr. Barton, a representative from the 6th district of our great state of Texas, is currently holding subcommittee hearings on the Bowl Championship Series. Mr. Barton in these hearings compared the BCS to communism (seriously someone get the man a dictionary -- I don't think he understands the idea of communism) and claimed that the BCS was ruled by something green (he later clarified he meant money and not the environment -- glad he cleared that up, wouldn't want anyone to think he was ridiculous...and may I add a huge DUH to the money observation). Mr. Barton ended the session by giving the chairman of the BCS, Mr. Swofford, a two-month deadline to voluntarily change the BCS to a play-off system or the government would get involved. It was at this point I realized I must in fact be living in an alternate reality; despite my limited mathematical knowledge, a reality whose adjective must surely be perpendicular rather than parallel. Mr. Barton, rather than working on a viable solution to an economic situation that could very well turn into the worst economic disaster our country has seen in almost 80 years, has decided a better use of his tax-payer supplied salary is to talk football. Perhaps Mr. Barton doesn't have a penchant for numbers -- well by all means please consider the other hundreds of issues waiting that are surely more pressing: energy, education, healthcare, the social security system, foreign affairs, the TWO different wars currently underway, etc. Logic would seem to dictate that the state of the BCS is by far one of the lowest priorites for our government employees. The only explanation is that we are in fact living in an alternate reality.

Dropping politics for a moment, I have to say as a fanatical football fan that the idea of the government involving themselves in the sport turns my stomach. As if it wasn't bad enough that the government had to involve itself in baseball, America's pasttime. Now it wants to mess with the last untouched bastion of good ole American competition. A big message to Boise State and Utah, two of the universities advocating government intervention: put on your big boy underwear and deal with it. I realize that Boise State has gone undefeated several times with no BCS bid and that Utah went undefeated last year with no opportunity to play in the BCS title game. Perhaps this is less because of money and more because BIG WHOOPITY DOO -- Boise State and Utah went undefeated. Without the smurf blue field would anyone know about Boise State? I doubt it. And I don't have fond memories watching a great Utah football game throughout the years (my apologies to alumni from both schools...but let's be realistic shall we??). Of course there are exceptions to this rule -- my husband would know but he is a rare breed with a steel trap of a memory for sports information and trivia. Additionally, the monetary aspect cannot be ignored. Bowl games are successful because fans show up to watch the game; no fans show up, no money made, no success. There is a reason that the PAC10, the SEC, the BIG12 have guaranteed bids -- people want to watch those teams play. These fans want to watch badly enough that they are willing to pay money for tickets (sometimes a LOT of money) and the ones who don't venture to the game will sit for four hours on the couch, enduring four hours filled with commercials -- advertising that helped pay the bills to put on the big shows.

In every good persuasive paper the author must at least address the opposing side; I will even go so far as to concede a few points. I understand that the BCS as it remains is biased. I understand that a play-off system of some sort would be better (with a small bracket -- maybe 4 teams...Luke's idea not mine). What I refuse to concede, however, is that the government is a necessary player in the decision.

I don't know much but I do know that if I lived in the 6th district of Texas I would be shopping for a new candidate -- someone who wouldn't spend my money gabbing about football all day.

***In the interest of equality, it should be noted that Mr. Barton is not the only Congressmen involved. Orrin Hatch has scheduled the issue for the antitrust subcommittee hearings this session. There is another one too...but he wasn't from Texas and I didn't care enough about him to remember his name.

The Great Unveiling

It's that time folks...to let the world know that we are expecting Baby #3. We found out March 28th and are of course very excited about it all. As you can see from baby's first picture we have already been to the doctor. Everything checked out a-okay. Baby is right on schedule and we are expecting him somewhere around the end of November. No, I don't know it's a "him" but I'm looking at precedent...seems there is enough evidence to me to warrant male pronouns until we know differently. Baby had a heartbeat of 136 bpm and this was the first baby we've had that we didn't move the due date at least a week. That's why I don't have a very specific date -- I wasn't really listening because I was waiting for the new adjusted due date. When I wasn't given one I was caught a bit off-guard! Naturally we are hoping to take this baby full-term but we realize with our history that it may not be possible. My goal is to make it one week further than I did with Sam. Sam was born at 34 weeks (almost 35) so another week would almost get us to 36 weeks. While every baby is different I also know that Sam needed little intervention at 34 weeks so I'm hoping a little more time would mean no NICU stay at all. Can you tell I'm ready to cancel my membership to the NICU mommy club?

This pregnancy is certainly different than the last two (which were completely different from one another as well). I have been very sick with this baby and ridiculously tired, although I'm not certain the exhaustion isn't more from chasing the gruesome twosome than anything else. Most folks seem to think the morning/noon/night sickness means this baby will be a girl but like I mentioned earlier...precedent has been set so I'm expecting boy. Of course a girl would be wonderful too. I just keep telling people that the more differences between this pregnancy and Jack's lifts my spirits that the ending of the pregnancy will be different too.

Like Sam's pregnancy, I won't be using the blog often to post updates. I'd like to keep it from turning into another family website. If you can't stand not knowing, feel free to visit the family site Pearson Family News Now that this news is out in the open, I should be posting a little more regularly. It's tough holding in a secret!!


Baby's first picture. Kinda hard to see things but we circled baby in red.

What's it gonna take?

Seriously, how much is too much for America to wake up and say, "enough!"?? At this point I should probably give a glimpse of the actual topic of this post...driving under the influence. I just read this article about MLB pitcher Nick Adenhart and three of his friends. I don't follow baseball unless it's Rangers T-ball so the fact that one of the victims was a star-athlete doesn't have much impact on my stance. Probably the only reason we are hearing about the crash on a nationwide circuit is because of the star-power associated.

In case you don't want to read the article, four people, including MLB pitcher Adenhart were broadsided last night by a man driving under the influence of alcohol. As if that's not bad enough, the same man was driving on a suspended license for a previous DUI. He fled the scene but fortunately was later arrested. So let's get this straight: one DUI = slap on the wrist; second DUI + suspended license = three dead kids and a hit-and-run situation.

So I ask again: what is it going to take to get American citizens to get fired up enough to demand harsher punishments for DUI? How many more of our families need to be buried before it becomes real enough for us to do something about it? It seems logical to me that had the original punishment been harsher maybe three kids would be alive and the fourth wouldn't be fighting for his life. If the punishment had been harsher maybe the offender wouldn't have decided again to get behind the wheel of a vehicle after drinking. Maybe.

Lasting Impressions

Words mean things -- a seemingly obvious statement. It's true nonetheless: words mean things. Whether penned or spoken or even thought words have power, influence, impact, meaning. It's easy to think that the only words we need concern ourselves with are those we put down for posterity, in permanence; perhaps too we are conscious of those words that, in their very being, are not nice. But what about the rest? The words that aren't permenant -- mere slips of the tongue in passing conversation; what about those words? Should we also think on these? Consider these? What about the words that aren't inherently mean, hateful, not nice? Should we consider these too? Can these words bruise, wound, knock down as quickly and efficiently as the cruel ones?

The answer of course is in the affirmative. Even these quickly passing, seemingly neutral words can wound. Too often we loose our tongues and let fly thoughts that we fail to recognize as hurtful. It was a joke or not meant in that way. But still it lingers, that comment we hoped was temporal. It bumps around in the psyche of it's recipient. When the long fingers of night creep across the land, those words come out loud and strong to inflict the damage we didn't anticipate.

How many times in Proverbs are we warned that the wise man holds his tongue but the fool fails to realize the need? How many times do we ignore this warning, do we let go and let loose? Perhaps if we thought more and spoke less, held on tighter and sought to impress less, we wouldn't bruise, wouldn't hurt, wouldn't wound each other so frequently, so powerfully. And too perhaps, if tongues were stilled more often, held tight, reined in -- perhaps then we might walk a little closer, might get a little dustier, might look a little more like our Rabbi.