Katie is 6 weeks old!

It's hard to believe that our sweet Katie was born 6 weeks ago yesterday. Even in this short amount of time she has already brought so much joy into our lives.

Recently she's shown some exciting signs of development. The most wonderful has been her SMILE! There is nothing more heartwarming than those first few open-mouthed, intentional, beautiful, beautiful smiles. My eyes water every time! She's also discovered her hands and her ability to grab and hit. Yesterday when I was using the aspirator to clear out her nose (an activity she thoroughly dislikes) she smacked the aspirator right out of my hands! Her neck muscles are improving everyday and she can now hold her head up for a few seconds. Her ability to see at a distance is also increasing and she can track us as we move around the room. We love to watch her grow.

My sister Lauren came in from Portland, Oregon and got to meet Katie for the first time this week. Katie loves her Aunt Lauren and has already taken a few naps on her. It's so special to share your baby with the ones you love!

Sweet smile!

Loves her Aunt Lauren

The four girls

Some Thoughts on Christ's Birth

The past 6 weeks have been challenging and wonderful, but mostly wonderful.  We've loved caring for and marveling over our daughter.  She's so sweet, beautiful, funny, helpless, demanding, sturdy, fragile, peaceful, and earth-shatteringly loud, all at the same time.

I went for a long, chilly walk the other night and found myself meditating on the wonder of Christ's birth and experiencing deep fellowship with Him.  

What a gift and what a mystery His birth was!  He brought together infinitely more diverse qualities than Katie does. His helplessness and hunger and cries were those of God Himself.  The Creator had entered His own creation.  

I'm so thankful for the healing and peace and forgiveness that Jesus brought and still brings.  He came in weakness to help the weak, to bind up the broken-hearted and free those who are discouraged and burdened by their sins. Jesus is alive. He is merciful.  He is strong to save. 

It's been beautiful to watch Maureen care for Katie so tenderly, patiently, skillfully, and selflessly.  I love this photo by our friend Kristin Moore.  It makes me think of Mary holding Jesus in her arms two thousand years ago, loving and treasuring her little baby with all her heart and trying to wrap her mind around the fact that her child was also her Savior and her God. 

We Got Almost 2/3 of a Katie of Snow!

A Christmas Miracle

Digging through a drawer this morning in search of something to wear out into the snowstorm, I stumbled upon a pair of corduroys that I do not recall ever buying, borrowing, finding, shoplifting, or receiving as a gift.  As should be obvious from the photo below, this is a particularly handsome pair, made by Banana Republic, boasting thin wales and a very rich taupe color.

Corduroy has a freighted history in our household.  I am a huge fan, embracing this noble fabric as excellent attire for all seasons.  Cordurory can be worn casually or in finer settings.  It never needs to be ironed.  It lasts a long time. It makes a pleasant sound as one moves through a room.

Maureen, largely, I would say, in reaction to my advocacy, spent the first year of our marriage disparaging corduroy. Under my tutelage, she has progressed to the point where she now owns a pair of her own and recently mentioned the possibility of buying another.  This pleases me, of course, though I will not be fully satisfied until I see her wearing corduroys on a hot day in July.

Given this history of dischord, it is worth noting that it was Maureen, not me, who referred to my discovery this morning as a "Christmas miracle."

Ah, wondrous textile!  Your powers are greater than even I had imagined.  You alone among the cotton-based fabrics can reconcile warring spouses, filling them, filling us all, with good will and Christmas cheer!

Paging Bing and Laura

It's almost certainly going to be a White Christmas in Media, Pennsylvania this year!  We're sitting through one of the biggest December snowstorms in recent memory, with as much as 17 inches of snow expected before it ends tomorrow.  That may not sound very impressive to those of you who live in Maine or Massachusetts, but I've lived south of New England long enough that anything over a foot now qualifies as a blizzard.

Maureen and I recently re-read the fantastic Little House on the Prairie series by Laura Ingalls Wilder, describing pioneer life during the late nineteenth century.  Looking outside this morning reminded me of the sixth book in the series, which describes the Ingalls family's long and difficult winter in the Dakota Territory.  It made me glad that we're sitting here in a warm house instead of shivering with Pa and Laura out in the sub-zero temperatures of the woodshed, twisting frozen hay into bundles for burning because we've run out of coal.

Quarantine

This week we all caught a bad cold.  More accurately, I caught it from someone on the train or at Penn, Katie caught it from me, and Maureen caught it from Katie.

As a result, it's been a strange week.  We've all slept more than usual (except Maureen, who caught her cold today and has been busy taking care of Katie and me).  Time has slowed down and sped up.  The patterns we've begun to form have been temporarily disrupted.  

It was disappointing to have to stay home and miss a couple get-togethers with friends that we were really looking forward to.  And it was hard for me to go for a couple days without holding Katie (before she caught my cold and caution became unnecessary).  

Worst of all, we've had to listen to Katie suffer through some pretty bad congestion.  We bought a humidifier, broke out the saline drops, and leaned on Maureen's growing expertise with an aspirator (pictured in the grim still life below).  But after doing all that we've still had to sit by and listen to a lot of labored baby-breathing, which is just about enough to break your heart.

Mom told me today that she struggled through the same thing when my brothers and I were kids.  It's always reassuring to hear her say that sort of thing.   

Third Reading Assignment