Thursday, September 28, 2006
"Humanity cries out for meaning. And believe me, we do cry out. We see UFO’s, engage in channeling, spirit contact, out-of-body experiences, mindquests—all these eccentric ideas have a scientific veneer, but they are the desperate cry of the modern soul, lonely and tormented, crippled by its own enlightenment and its inability to accept meaning in anything removed from technology….all the while, the church is proclaimed ignorant. But who is more ignorant? The man who cannot define lightening, or the man who does not respect its awesome power? The Church is reaching out to you. And yet the more we reach, the more you push us away. Show me proof there is God, you say. I say use your telescopes to look to the heavens and tell me how there could not be a God! You proclaim that even the slightest change in the force of gravity or the weight of an atom would have rendered our universe a lifeless mist rather than our magnificent sea of heavenly bodies, and yet you fail to see God’s hand in this? Is it really so much easier to believe that we simply chose the right card from a deck of billions? Have we become so spiritually bankrupt that we would rather believe in mathematical impossibility than in a power greater than us?"
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Monday, September 25, 2006
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Monday, September 18, 2006
OK, sometimes, I crack myself up. And many of those times, others are not amused. There have been points in my life when I actually had to pay people a quarter for lame stories. However, since you surfed to this site and are reading of your own will, no apologies.
For some reason, this picture reminds me of some old-fashioned picture of a happy little boy skipping/marching along playing some sort of flute or pipe. Except that he's naked. And he's running, not marching. And he wasn't happy when the picture was taken. But other than that...it's exactly like the other thing.
And just to prove that I'm not psycho, here's an adorable pic of Carson sporting the new fall line of Tompkins kids wear.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
I know. He's a genius.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
This was what I was saying for a couple hours this afternoon as Carson and I had a great playdate (after visiting Aunt Becky!) with three wonderful mommies and sons. Carson is the oldest, and we are working on him not mauling the littler guys. Here you can see he's giving Nathan quite a push in the gut. Also notice the beautiful alpaca rug at the Marr's.
It was so neat to see all the baby boys together and it's so incredible the love I feel for those that are not even my own. I think going through the pregnancies and births with each of their mommies just reminds me how precious their lives are. Plus, they are incredibly CUTE! It was hilarious trying to get all of them to hold still for a pose. Henry was by far the best behaved...and he held still the longest. :)
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
In the past few weeks/months, I've discovered a really strange cultural and verbal phenomenon centered around babies, particularly babies who can't yet talk. That phenomenon is that we, as adults, talk for them. About half the time, we use the phrase: "Say '_________,'" and the other half of the time we just say something in a baby-ish voice, indicating to all present that you are now vocalizing for the child. If you are around babies, you've probably done it, whether you realize it or not.
One of the most common examples is when I want Carson to seem polite. So, at the store, when someone says (TO him) "You are a cutie!" I feel the need to follow with "Say 'Thank you!'" Why do I do this? Is it because in complimenting him, I feel she's actually complimenting me, therefore I'm obliged to reply? Why don't I just say "thank you"? It's certainly not that I'm trying to communicate what he is truly thinking, because, in truth, it probably is more along the lines of "Your breath stinks," or "You wear a lot more makeup than my mom," or "You have a huge head."
But the funniest use of this strange vicarious communication is when I noticed Trent and I have occasionally used it to be slightly passive-aggressive with each other. (Okay, I'm usually much more guilty.) Especially when Carson was very little, I would find myself going "Daddy! That's too much powder on my bottom!" or "Daddy, your farts smell worse than mine!" or "Mommy, how come Daddy is more interested in his video games than in playing with me?" etc. etc. It's like I found a whole new way to tell Trent how to parent or that I frown on his gas-passing ways or that I want him to watch the baby for a while, without actually saying it MYSELF.
If you haven't watched the movie "Look Who's Talking" recently, you should rent it. It was infinitely more funny after I had a kiddo. We all wish we could know what thoughts are going through those precious little heads, and that those thoughts would be as developed as ours. Since that's not happening any time soon, we'll just have to speak for them. "Carson! Say, 'Bye-bye!'"