Monday, November 7, 2011

Music to My Ears

This might be the only "productive" thing I get done all day. I think this monstrous headache I've had for three days is the product of a sinus infection, and any motivation I might have started my day with has long since tucked its tail and run. Here's hoping the doctor I will visit in the morning is able to straighten this thing out. I've, again, gained even more appreciation for my own mother, who more times than I can count spent her days caring for me when she felt under the weather. "That's what mothers do" is what she would say to me. It was a simple statement of fact, never a complaint. My mother is a superhero.
  My son seems oblivious to my pain, which is exactly how I want it. He has spent all day eating, sleeping, and cooing. Cooing is his newest developmental achievement. He's two and a half months old this week, and he spent this Sunday's church service learning how to vocalize. Loudly. My apologies to my pastor and fellow church members for the squawking and "ooohhh"-ing you heard in the back of the sanctuary yesterday. That was my son, not-so-silently reflecting on his past week during the time of SILENT confession. He missed the SILENT part. Sorry about that. And he doesn't have much to confess yet, anyway, unless you count how very WRONG the contents of his diapers can sometimes be.
  Thankfully, my church has recently experienced a boom of babies, and my son was not the only one speaking his mind during the service. We only received appreciative grins from the churchgoers around us. Never once has someone glared at us for not keeping him quiet. We're grateful for such a child-friendly congregation. I think we all realize what a tremendous blessing it is to have so many children in our presence. It also makes for interesting services, and our pastors are very flexible and keep a sense of humor about them when the most somber of moments are interrupted by happy (and sometimes unhappy) infants. Nothing like listening to ten babies squealing during a baptism. I'm quite sure that Jesus approves and smiles on moments like those. He probably had a few infants  in the crowd that gathered to witness His own baptism.
   I'll finish this afternoon and begin this evening by hopefully cooking something edible for dinner. I guess that will allow me to chalk up two productive actions for the day. And my "kitchen help" will sit on the counter in his Bumbo seat, cooing and waving his arms and talking up a storm. It's music to my ears.
   
   

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