29

Even though I'm 29 years old today, and 30 is so close, it doesn't bother me yet. Probably because in my mind I'm still 22 and could be hanging out in my dorm room studying for finals, watching FRIENDS with MY friends or going to the beach any time I want. Maybe it's also because I'm pretty darn happy with my life. When I think about turning 30 or 40 my mind doesn't jump to the wrinkles that will be added to my face or the widdening hips and sagging... you get the idea. When I think about the future, my first thought is about my kids. (Don't worry...that's not an announcement. ) I think about Carson and future mini-Tompkins and what they will be like and what my relationship will be with them. I wonder if they'll have good friendships like I did and find godly people to marry. Will they have acne to worry about? Will they have their hearts broken? I wonder if they'll get good grades or if Trent and I will follow through with our plan to take our teenagers to Europe. Heck, 29 feels young! There's SO much life to live. Then again, ask me again in 365 days. Maybe I'll be singing a different tune!

Future Tiger

I know...not the most creative title. I'm sure every parent who has taken a picture of their kid with a golf club since the late nineties gives it the same title. He actually does love this __________. ( I want to insert here that I just asked Trent what kind of club this was so I could use another noun other than "club." I asked if it was a driver or a putter...? He said "fairway wood" which was a more specific than I wanted, but such an answer from a golfer. Sigh.) Carson actually does love this fairway wood. He plays with it for minutes at a time, which for a ten-month-old's attention span is like three hours for us.

Also, I kind of have a personal policy of not letting Carson go out in public in just a diaper, but since this was just in our backyard area and it was freaking hot, I guess it's OK. :) Plus, he's so darn cute.

God is Faithful

Henry James Marr was born this morning, weighing in at 8 lbs 13 oz. Since the new Mommy and Daddy surely won't have time to blog any time soon, I wanted to post pictures of this cute little guy. These were taken a few hours after Henry was born. We are all praising God for bringing this healthy baby boy into our lives and for giving him to such amazing parents. I think this picture says it all. Jim and Steph, our joy for you is overwhelming. Steph went into labor during the night, they checked into the hospital around 4:30am, and Henry was born around 10:30 am. At last their arms can hold their precious miracle. Thank you, Lord.

More Pictures of Henry

Who ME!? I dn hv anythng n my mth!

We've all heard funny stories about mom's catching their babies putting nasty things into their mouths. So far I have nothing gross enough for blog-worthiness, but I do think it is funny that Carson is definitely experimenting with what can fit into his mouth. I have to be pretty diligent about keeping the floor clean and watching him. The funniest part is that he is currently still in a phase where if he does find something to put in his mouth, he's not very covert about it.
Usually when he's wandering around playing or exploring or whatever, I can hear him chatting or banging things or opening, etc. But when he gets quiet, I know he's found something. Throughout the day, if we make eye contact, he has his mouth open, tongue out or he'll give me a real smile. However, if he has put something in his mouth, his lips are pressed together and eyes and brows are concentrating. When he's trying to be sneaky, he'll actually give me a partial, close-lipped smile. It is the proverbial cat with the canary in his mouth look.

So far, the collection of items have gone from the harmless (piece of graham cracker, part of a napkin, actually just chewing on his own tongue) to the potentionally dangerous (penny, baby fingernail clippers, water bottle lid). I'm dreading the day when I reach in there and find a dead bug or something. But for now, I'll just try to keep him from choking on the random remnants he gets his chubby little hands on and keep one eye on the kiddo.

Daddy Tompkins, DPT

Today is Trent's birthday, but he is not really into checking the blogs, so I won't really bother saying Happy B-day. Maybe I'll talk about him behind his back. :) This year all he wanted was an iPod, so that's all he got. (Thanks to all who pitched in.) We've been having fun checking iTunes and dancing with/for Carson.

Yesterday we got a random call from a woman whose 16-month-old daughter was diagnosed with cerebral palsy. If I got the story right, she got Trent's number out of the phone book after she heard about him from a woman she met in a Yahoo mom's online group who recommended Trent as a pediatric PT. I was pretty proud of him and told this stranger on the phone how wonderful he is with kids and what a great physical therapist he is. Yeah, I'm pretty proud of my birthday boy.

Old Carson, Young Carson

A moment of balance.....
Strange pool + cool water + hot day + little swimmers = happy baby.

First taste of blueberries

Did I already put this pic up? Oh well. We might need some new ones. Yesterday at church this old(er) man named CARSON was baptized. It was cool on a superficial level, since it was fun to see someone from another generation named Carson. I wondered what Carson will be like when he is in his late 60's. But when they asked "Carson, do you believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God" and he answered yes, I got tears in my eyes. I know that my child is also a child of God, and above all my prayers for him, I pray that someday he will answer a loud and confident YES to that question.

My Favorites Vol. 2

Trent

Mike
Becky
Jen
Do you know the feeling you get after you have tried something new and enjoyed it? Even if you weren't sure you wanted to do it? That's one of my favorite things. This weekend when we were camping, we went over to Ski Bowl, which in the summer has some "adventure" attractions so they don't go bankrupt during the off-season. The four of us did the alpine slides and then we tried the "slingshot" which is basically just being tied to a bungee cord and jumping on a trampoline. The bungee (sp?) gives you the adrenaline rush because you can go quite high and do flips, which, lets face it, this scaredy cat would never do on a normal trampoline. As we were getting harnessed up (awkard!) I got that fun/nervous feeling like you get right before going on a scary roller coaster. (Seeing the 8 year old go before us really took the edge off, though.) I read an article that said part of not spoiling a child is not rescuing them from uncomfortable situations. I really want to let Carson go through some nerve-wracking experiences, even if he doesn't think he's ready, because I know that each time he tries something new and succeeds, it will build his confidence. Then again, maybe he'll be that kid that wants to jump and do flips when he's four. That would be his father's genes.

I'd like to make a dedication...

...to my friend JJ, who says he checks my blog everyday. If we took a poll of people who know J, my guess is that over half would say he is the funniest person they know; he's also one of the kindest. I know that he makes ME funnier when we're together and he makes me laugh harder than just about anyone else. Throw in Lyda, our partner in crime, a road trip, a long line ad Disneyland, some cat puke, and there's nothing stopping the tears-in-your-eyes, pain-in-your-gut, can't-catch-your-breath laughing. Please let me be the first to claim you as my oldest friend BEFORE you become famous. Don't forget the little people.

There's a brain in there! Part 2

As I was cruising around some blogs of friends, friends of friends and strangers ( you know the "link" trail) I was admiring the deep thoughts expressed regarding faith, friendship, careers, heroes, entertainment, etc. Although I never had notions of having my blog be anything more than stream of consciousness and bragging on the babe, it did make me wonder what people think when they stumble upon my blog. I'm dividing my readership into two categories: family/close friends/friends with kids who will read the blog and think "Oh, pictures of her kid! How cute." That group might scroll down and see more. The other group would be strangers and aquaintances without kids who would think "Oh, pictures of her kid. How boring." Click to next blog. So, does that bother me? To be honest, it does a little. Although I have chosen to surrender to my new identity as doting mother, I still want to retain my identity as scholar, wife, writer, funny girl and savvy culture commentator. (Or am I flattering myself to include those?!) There are seasons in life when one aspect of our identity has to dominate, and right now my mommy personae is on the front burner. And I guess there are venues in life when we can exercise and express different aspects of our identity. I'll probably continue to use this venue as I have been (mainly because of time), but I like to remind myself to excercise the other parts of my identity that make me...me. Quick, someone ask me a really controversial question so I can write a witty joke as a response and connect it in someway to pop culture. :)

There's a brain in there!

A few weeks ago, when I stuck my tongue out at Carson, he smiled and stuck his tongue out back at me. While you may be dismayed that I am teaching him (with special tutoring from others) this trick, for me it was such a milestone. He's becoming a little person who responds to me with a purposeful action! There's a little brain in there! Smiling is obviously wonderful and melts your heart, but that is a reflexive response. Now we are getting to the part where he has to work at his responses. Two nights ago, after at least a month of coaching, Carson used his first sign language to sign "more" during dinner. You would have thought he had just spouted off multiplication tables the way we were rejoicing. We even gave him the ultimate reward in his eyes: pedialyte pop. Then last night he waved goodbye when Grandpa Tompkins was waving to him. It was a big deal! How funny that these little feats that were only mildly amusing when they happened to someone else's child now seem like newsflashes worthy of announcing to the world. What's really fun to think is that we are just at the beginning of so many firsts.

Making Friends

This weekend we had a great time at the beach, staying in a cabin near Camp WiNeMa. I haven't laughed so hard in a long time. It was also a good time for Carson to get some social exercise interacting with some friends: I know it looks like he's about to pull her ear, which is not nice to do to a new friend, but it was actually quite fun watching these two, who are only about two weeks apart in age. They were both chatting and practicing their "sharing." Her name is Katie, daughter of our friends Emily and Peter, who are visiting family in the states from Denmark for a few months.I can't tell if Carson is using Becky for balance or it he's getting ready to push off of her and dive onto Ethan. The boys in their semi-matching PJ's were so funny to watch. Carson is working on petting the doggies and used the same motion on Ethan's head. It worked pretty well until Carson decided he needed some leverage to stand, so he used Ethan's head, pushing it into the carpet. Ethan is so laid-back he hardly put up a fuss.

The dog whisperer. With a wedgie. He already got that one dog at his feet to "play dead."

Picnic and Play at the Park

The other day we slathered (real word?) on the sunblock and went for a picnic at the park. It was Carson's first time there to try out some of the play equipment, rather than just sit in the stroller for a walk. He seemed to like it pretty well, even though all he could really do was sit there. A little girl came down this slide next to him and they chatted to each other in gibberish for a bit...pretty cute.

Where I'm From

A while back, I came across a template for a poem that was really cool. It took me a while to find bits of time to work on it, but here it is. I'll probably think of a ton of things to add and change, but here is my first draft. It may be obvious, but this is dedicated to where I came from: Mom, Dad and Mike. If you read this without getting a little choked up, then I recant it all--I must not be related to you.

Where I Came From--Jennifer Bunch Tompkins

I am from Douglas firs and Super Mario Brothers. I'm from Psalty, Five Mile Creek and Ramona Quimby.

I am from the fourth house on the left, the cul-de-sac, from rooms kept cool in the summer by fans and closed blinds. I am from a true wood-burning fireplace.

I am from the roses and hydrangeas, from Veda, Trillium and Mirror.

I am from year-by-year collages in the hallway and toothbrushes in the kitchen; from Carters and Mulkeys and Helphensteins.

I am from quick to laugh and easy to cry, smart and smart-aleck; from photographs as a second religion. From hanging on and letting go. I'm from "obnoxiously functional."

I am from road trips and hiking trips and “we’ll take as many breaks as you want but we’re not carrying you.” I’m from “TV coins” in the jar for every hour I’ve read.

I am from Winkie and Jesus, Sunday school and VBS; from faith as a lifestyle, not just a label. From Turner and WiNeMa and PCCofHIU. I'm from education as a value and an honor, not an obligation.

I'm from the incomparable Pacific Northwest and Southern California perfection; from Minestrone soup and home-made caramel corn. I’m from McDonald’s as a treat, not a routine.

I’m from a plastic cup flushed down the toilet, a moon drawn on the bathroom door and a knee injury in racquetball. I’m from tole-painting and hand-sewn dresses, from chocolate pudding as finger paint. I'm from Q-tips as a daily delight!

I am from scrapbooks, from nostalgia and movies. I am from expressive and unconditional love, and vocal pride and unhesitating forgiveness. I'm from a place that shapes my history and my future. How could I ask for more?

Look Out Elliott

You know, all of the child psychologists and baby books tell you not to bother comparing your child to other children. It will lead to unnecessary disappointment or unrealistic confidence. However, I couldn't help but post this recent picture of Carson, which reminded me of a recent picture posted by my BFF's the P-jaks. Now, I know Elliott has been reading "Seven Seasons of the Man in the Mirror," but as you can see, Carson is really working on restoring his spiritual passion, and he's only 8 months old. (Not to mention the PD Life in the background. Please ignore Bridget Jones.) Maybe our godly young men will someday attend Corban college together. You know, now that they took "Baptist" out of the name. I KID!

TJ's Everyday

Several years ago, my mom told me about something she read. It said that one should try to find small delights everyday...things that make you smile. The author called them TJ's: Tiny Joys. So, since then, she and I have often shared with each other a "TJ" that we had experienced. (Sidebar: this acronym was truly challenged for me last year when I had a student named TJ who embodied the negative aspects of Dennis the Menace, Sid fom Toy Story, and Willie AND Nellie Olsen from "Little House On the Prairie." I kid you not.) Since having Carson, he gives us so many TJ's everyday that it's impossible to even count. My favorite today was when he sat next to me on the couch chattering away happily to himself with all kinds of chitchat and playing with the newspaper. You don't realize what a wonderful thing this is! He was PLAYING with the paper, not trying to EAT the paper. Moments like this so far outweigh the TF's (tiny frustrations) and MF's (major frustrations) it's not even close. Here's some recent pictures of the boy on the go. Couldn't love him more.

Bath Time

Water is an interesting element, and it is so fun to watch a little (almost) 8 month old comprehend its characteristics. What is this getting in my face when I slap my hands vigorously up and down? Why can't I grab that long stream they keep putting right in front of me? But the biggest question is....why do I have to put my clothes back on?

Shades & Socks

Here are a couple more pics of Carson. They, too, are about a month old. I love the one with sunglasses from Aunt Tara.


This Auntie is our shoe queen--she likes to supply Carson with all the latest adorable and trendy shoes. I love it! I find I have the most trouble with Little C's socks. His entire outfit for the day is determined by which sock I can find that a)has a matching partner and b)doesn't look like an anklet or c)doesn't come off in five minutes. If I ever start a baby line of clothes, the first thing I will make is some good socks!

That black guy with big puffy cheeks

If that title doesn't get you to read this post, I don't know what would. I was SO excited about how many people commented on my dog conspiracy theory. I truly didn't know that many people check up on me every once in a while. I love you guys! Then I started getting sentimental and thinking of songs (as I do when I get sentimental) and thought of several, including "What a wonderful world" I think it's called. You know, someone sings a boring version of it on American Idol each year. "I see trees of green, red roses too, yada, yada...." Then I realized, I don't really know the title of the song. Obviously, I don't really know the lyrics. I don't really know who sings it. I thought it was a cute, rotund, older black guy. Armstrong? Louie Armstrong? Which reminded me of Lance Armstrong or some other Louie who is a rotund WHITE guy who doesn't sing but does off-colored comedy. (And something about a cartoon version?) Perhaps I should have called this post "Stream of consciousness." Anyway, back to the black singer guy: is he the same one who plays trumpet and puffs his cheeks WAY out? I only remember him because he had a cameo on The Cosby Show one time. All this to say: I love you guys! Oh, and because we still don't have the camera in our posession to post pics of Carson, here is an older pic because no one should go long without looking at my cute baby.


This is when Trent zerberts his tummy and his face of horror soon turns into major giggles.

Conspiracy Theory

First of all, good news: the camera has been found. FYOOSH.

Seconldy, a very wise man is coming to our church this weekend to talk about the fallacies of the DaVinci Code. Trent and I decided we would both read the book before that message so we could comment on it with some authority. I'm about halfway through and I just got to the part that I think is most objectionable to Christians and Catholics: Jesus was not the Son of God, just a nice guy who had a child with Mary Mag, the Bible is just some stories put together by the church to cover this up, etc. It made my toes curl and my jaw was set pretty tight...it seemed to go on and on and on. But as a Christian, it is obvious to me that this is fiction. I can see why there would be problems if this was "taught" or pronounced as truth. To be honest, I haven't been that impressed with the book from a literary aspect anyway. I've found myself getting a little bored at times. In my opinion the author has an overly loquacious way of describing every little symbol and room and piece of furniture. I skip ahead half a page and nothing's happened in the plot. I'm interested to hear what Dr. Lawson says about it.

But onto more trivial conspiracy theories, I am convinced that dogs send a telepathic message to each other to warn them about people who don't like dogs--ie: me.* We just got new neighbors and they have a dog who likes to bark when I have had no sleep and can finally take a 30 minute nap. Grrrr. My camping friends can testify to the time a stray dog came to our fire on the beach, and out of several blankets, coats and chairs to choose from, this dog peed directly on MY sweatshirt. I think they are all in cahoots.

*Disclaimer: I almost always love dogs that belong to people that I love, ie: Lilly, Sunny, Maddie, Riley, Molly. (Do all dogs end with the "ee" vowel?)