Saturday, July 02, 2005


Remember how Sage slept through the night when he was in our room temporarily while his grandparents were here? The first night he was in his own room again, he woke up at 3am. Then my mind started turning. What if we always slept in the same room as him? It wouldn't hurt to have a family room, would it? I mean he isn't sleeping in our bed, he is sleeping in his own bed he just likes to know we are close, I guess. We are seriously considering moving our bed into his room and all sleeping in the same room. The positives are that we could get a futon for the other room and it could become a reading/guest room. I like that idea. I also like that I could be near Sage when Andrew isn't home when we are sleeping. Andrew will go back to work from 8:30 to midnight so I like the comfort of knowing that Sage and I are in the same room. His late nights will continue when grad school starts in the fall too. My moms two cents are to baby him when he is a baby and that someday he won't want to be around us so enjoy it while it lasts! I agree but on the other hand, am I creating a monster? Will this be really hard to reverse someday? Will we end up with all our kids sleeping in one room with us? I guess this is how it was in the old days. One room cabin. Any comments?

On a more serious note. The other day I was laying Sage down for a nap and started to think about what if God asked me to give up my son to save the world? Would I be able to do it? I doubt it. I am selfish. I can't comprehend the anguish God must have gone through watching his son die on a cross and knowing that he could prevent it. It is something so unfathomable especially now that I have a son. I just started to cry, God is so good to us, giving us eternal life to spend with him. Why would he want such a selfish, bratty, horrible person like me to spend with him forever. He is amazing.

On a lighter note. I went to the grocery store yesterday. I hadn't wanted to put Sage in the cart (I mean carriage) because it was rusty and seemed dirty. By the end of the trip, he was getting so heavy and I was moving so slowly, I relented and put him in the seat. I finished my shopping, paid for the groceries and loaded them in the trunk. All the while, Sage is sitting happily in the carriage. I return the carriage to the covered parking spot and lift Sage out. Or I try to lift Sage out. He is stuck. At some point, he took his chubby little leg and put it through the opening right next to the leg opening. His leg is stuck. I push his leg, he cries. I am thinking what do I do? Do I go back in the store and ask for help? I am praying Lord, please help me to think. I bought butter! I wheel him back to the car, open the trunk, find the butter and open a stick. By this time a hispanic family is walking by exclaiming oh know, he's stuck. I unwrap the butter, rub it on his leg around the bars it slides out, then his foot is stuck, I push and pull, he cries, finally free at last!

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