Why I'm against "the pill"

I thought it was time for another "rant." Most of my posts lately have been about Moses. I thought something a little political or controversial should spice it up (besides, I haven't loaded all 300+ Christmas pictures onto my computer yet, so a Christmas post will have to wait).

I was directed to a great new new video on youtube today; you can see it at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jiCU46_lWeE. Basically, it explains how "the pill" acts as an abortifacient (I am talking about daily contraception here, not emergency contraception (EC)-- although EC acts as an abortifacient as well). Since I am frequently asked my stance on birth control, I thought it an appropriate issue to address here.

I do slightly disagree with one thing in the video; the pharmaceutical companies make no effort to hide the fact that the daily pill can cause abortions. In the drug labels and/or manufacturers' websites, the third mechanism of action listed (besides preventing ovulation and thickening cervical mucus) is to prevent a fertilized egg (i.e., conception has occured) from attaching to the uterine wall. Thus, the first reason I am against "the pill" is because it can act as an abortifacient.

Second, the pill can cause disastrous medical effects. Even the World Health Organization-- which can hardly be described as a "conservative" organization-- has recognized the pill as a carcinogenic. So, the second reason I am against "the pill" is because it is harmful to women's health.

Third, the history of the pill is so entirely distasteful that it should have the entire nation up in arms over its origin. Margaret Sanger ("champion" of birth control and founder of Planned Parenthood) saw the pill as a means to control (or, in reality, destroy) minority populations. Ms. Sanger was undoubtedly a racist. Oh-- and Ms. Sanger also advocated for selective breeding, sterilization, and euthanasia. You know, to remove the "genetically unfit" from society. I wonder why Planned Parenthood doesn't advertise from that angle???

So there you have it in a nutshell. "The pill" is morally problematic, medically unsafe, and historically unethical. Since we will be called to account for the decisions we make, we've decided this is a no-brainer in the Smith Household.

Moses and St. Nick...

We took Moses to see Santa today. I think the pictures speak for themselves:

So, of course, we drove through Starbucks on our way home to get a penguin cookie (and a couple of lattes for Mommy and Daddy). Even when you're 20 months old, Starbucks can make everything better:

On another note, Moses got something very special... and a little mysterious... in the mail today. Last week, I had Moses color a green and red picture for Santa, and we asked that Santa come to our house a night early since we are going to be gone on Christmas Eve night. Note: No one but Kurt, Moses, and me knew about this letter (or the picture). We addressed it to "Santa, North Pole," and simply put "Moses" as the return address. After all, Santa should know the addresss already, right?

When we got home from the mall today, I got the mail and was a little dumb-struck. There was a letter to Moses, from "Mr. Santa Claus," with a North Pole address. It was handwritten on beautiful Santa stationary and read as follows:

"Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas Moses! I received your letter just as I was packing my sleigh. I would be happy to visit your house early. Thank you for your beautiful red and green picture. Those are my favorite colors! Love, Santa"

Remember: NO ONE knew we sent the letter, and it didn't have our return address on it.

?!?!?!

Santa, thank you-- you definitely created a very special Christmas memory for the Smith household!

My Baby Bunny

When I was a child, one of my favorite books was “You Make the Angels Cry” by Denys Cazet (thanks to my ebay-savvy mom, we now own this out-of-print book). In the book, an unfortunate baby bunny is trying to get a cookie jar, when wind gushes through the window and knocks the jar over. In frustration, the Momma Bunny says to her baby, “You make the angels cry!”

To make a short story even shorter, the baby bunny braves a storm, climbs a hill, and yells an apology up to the angels. When the baby bunny reports what he has done, the Momma Bunny says, “You make the sun shine.” And out comes the sun at the end of the book.

Well, my baby bunny was in quite the mood this morning. He pushed and crossed every line there is to cross. He stood on chairs. He tried to eat an Asian beetle. He got into a drawer he knows full well he is not supposed to touch. He touched the fireplace. And, the crowning glory of the morning: he decided that it was appropriate to throw a screaming, rolling, kicking fit while I was trying to change a VERY dirty diaper. (Neither of our clothes came out… “unscathed”…).

By noon, I was exasperated.

But then Moses did a very precious thing. During the middle of lunch, he closed his eyes, clasped his hands, bowed his head, jibber-jabbered a little prayer—and—it gets even better—looked up and, for the very first time, said “A-MEN.” Then he repeated the entire process!

This Momma Bunny’s heart was melted.

Oh, Moses. I think you make the angels laugh!

More words

I realized that, in a previous post, I left out some words that Moses frequently says. The first is actually a phrase: "no-no-NO." He usually says this while shaking his finger at the fireplace. (Not that I have had to do that a number of times or anything....).

Another word is "yes." And, as all children pick up all-too-quickly, he often says "me."

He has always been quite "verbal." He mumbles little phrases, the meaning of which I have yet to figure out. But recently, his mumblings have taken sentence form. I can't wait to know what he is saying!

This weekend I went to a family wedding in CA, and the boys (ie, Daddy and Moses) stayed home. It was heart-wrenching. I've traveled without them before, but never as far as CA! There was something about knowing that I couldnt' just rent a car and drive home if I needed to...

Anyway, it felt as if Moses grew an inch while I was gone. For some reason, he looked different when I got back. Older. I'm not sure I like it. BUT, I was greeted with such a grin, like I have never seen before. And he just kept patting my back while I held him. There ARE perks to my baby growing up!

"Halloween" 2007

I don't really like the idea of Halloween. When I was a child, things seemed less dark and somewhat innocuous; but now that we have a child, I realize just how dark of a "holiday" it is. We struggled over the decision whether or not to introduce Halloween to Moses. We were torn: on the one had, we didn't want to introduce Moses to all of the darkness; but on the other hand, we didn't want him to miss out on dressing up and having fun. Fortunately, Hamilton seems to have solved the problem for us.

Rather than calling it "Halloween," our town calls it "Beggars' Night." I know it may sound silly, but by not calling it "Halloween," it seemed a little less death-oriented to me. AND, to make it even better, "Beggar's Night" was NOT on the 31st! Instead, it was on the 30th! Bingo!



(We've been told that sometimes "Beggar's Night" does fall on the 31st-- but apparently, when the 31st falls on a Weds. or a Sun.-- i.e., church nights!-- "Beggar's Night" switches to the 30th.)


And to make things even better, I saw only one house in town that really went all-out with decor. Most people around here decorate for Fall-- not Halloween. The merchants in town do hold "Halloween" on the 31st-- but in broad daylight and right after school lets out. And every child I saw had at least one adult with him/her.



In all, everything has a family fall festival-type feel. That being said, it was an easy decision to participate in the festivities.



So, here are the pictures!

Moses REALLY got into playing with pumpkin seens (we carved a nice, happy pumpkin)

And what fun Fall day could be complete without an orange-iced cookie from Mommy???

Praying Against Trials

In the world we are living in today, it is easy to slip into praying that God place a hedge of protection so strong around Moses that he never face trials of any kind. But that is like praying, "God, never discipline him; never shape or mold him into the man you want him to be." Instead, I pray that God allow only those trials necessary to keep Moses on His path.

We reached a milestone this week-- Moses is 18 months. A year-and-a-half. 1.5 years. If you can't tell, I am having a hard time comprehending it.

Along with the words apple, elmo, happy ("appy"), ball ("aball"), no, yes, baby ("aby"), Mom-Mom, and Dad-o*, he added Grandma ("amma") this week. (He has also inconsistently said elephant ("e-et"); owl; kitty ("i-ee," and "neeoow" for meow); dog ("adog," and "oo-oo" for barking); boo; Grandpa ("pa"); and, believe it or not, Albert (Pujhols, that is)). Yet he refuses to speak any of the words he can sign (more; please; water; milk; etc.).

He is also climbing all over the place. Let's just say that his motor skills are... quite developed. I never know where he will climb when I walk out of the room. Yesterday I found him on top of a chair, rocking it back and forth-- and NO, it was NOT a rocking chair. Today, he pulled a dining room chair out and climbed up to the table, and was "pretending" to type on Mom-Mom's laptop when she found him. Even as I was typing this, Moses climbed up behind me in the chair and fell off backwards. My heart is racing!

And he is not a "builder" when he plays-- he is a "destroyer." There is nothing more fun than completely demolishing a lego tower that Mom-Mom is trying to build. All boy, through and through. I'm not used to this. And I am out-numbered.

Maybe I should pray that I not have to face any trials in raising my son.... but then, that sounds pretty boring. Along with the trials come oh-so-much JOY.

(*"Dad-o" is Moses' unique name for his Daddy-- he started using this terminology all on his own. If we say, "Say Daddy," he is quite emphatic in repeating it as "Dad-o." I chalk this up to an in utero memory-- he must be recalling all of those Hawaii Five-0 episodes I watched while pregnant, when McGarrett calls Danny Williams "Danno"...).

The opposite ends of the toddler-hood spectrum

While I realize that I am biased, I think that Moses is quite smart. That being said, he also has some strange little quirks. Consider the opposite ends of his toddler-hood spectrum:

• At one end of the spectrum, his listening/association skills seem quite advanced. One of his favorite books is about the Battle of Jericho. His favorite CD is a Veggie Tales CD with a song about the Battle of Jericho. For the past week, whenever the song comes on, he runs and finds his book. Personally, I find that quite advanced for a 17-month-old.



• Then there is the other end of the spectrum. One of his favorite "toys" right now is a dryer sheet. Weird. Perhaps this is because he loves to "help" folding the laundry. But his hilarious idea of what to do with the (clean!) laundry can be seen below:

I think the first end of the spectrum comes from his Mommy-- the other end must come from this Daddy.

Matthew 7

I’ve been disturbed lately by the political proclamations of a number of Christian “friends." And sadly, a few are the product of my alma mater. I recently listed the following status on my Facebook page: “M is wondering how anyone can claim to follow Christ, yet support politicians who push for abortion on demand through birth (as all the front-running Dems do…).” I can foresee a number of critiques (or myths, rather) to this statement, to which I have the following responses:

Myth 1: You shouldn’t be a one-issue voter.
Response 1: Oh yes you should, when the issue involves the murder of innocent human life, created in God’s image. Nothing is more important. I submit there is nothing more dear to God’s heart than a little child. For more on that, see Response 2. Furthermore, I can’t imagine voting for a pro-choicer, and then later having to account for that vote before the Lord Jesus Christ. I don’t want that blood on my hands.

So then I hear a follow-up myth: isn’t it hypocritical to vote for a candidate who sends men to war, who ignores the poor, etc.? First of all, anyone in the war is there because he or she voluntarily joined the military. None of us WANT to be in a war. But we were attacked, period. But I digress; that is a different discussion. The fact is that we don’t have a draft; men and women in the military choose to join, and in doing so know the possibility that they may be sent to war (especially those who join post-9/11). Contrast this to a child, who has no choice in conception.

Furthermore, both sides of the aisle want to help the poor; the underlying dispute is HOW to do so, not whether to do so. Contrast this to abortion, where there is a difference of morality—not a difference of strategy.

Myth 2: The Bible says nothing about the abortion issue.
Response 2: The Bible is replete with passages applicable to the abortion issue. Here are JUST A FEW (indeed, entire books are written on this subject alone):
* The Commandment is very clear: You shall not murder (Ex. 20:13).
* When the Law was given, God included a “fetal homicide” law. See Ex. 21:22 (“When people who are fighting injure a pregnant woman so that there is a miscarriage, and yet no further harm follows, the one responsible shall be fined what the woman’s husband demands, paying as much as the judges determine.”—note that if further harm did follow, the Lord instituted his “eye for an eye” policy).
* God states plainly that He knows us from the womb (and even before), that we are a human being with a soul, separate and apart from our mothers. See, for example, Psalm 139: 13-16 (“For it was you who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made…. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes beheld my unformed substance. In your book were written all the days that were formed for me, when none of them as yet existed.”) and Jeremiah 1:5 (“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you….”).
* And perhaps nothing sums it up more plainly than Mark 9:37 (“Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”) Even as a grade-schooler (when I first felt the call and declared my intent to fight the evils of abortion), I understood the direct application of this passage: if I don’t welcome the little child, then I welcome neither Christ nor God. In fact, failing to accept the little children is a rejection of Christ and God.

Again, these are just a few passages that I thought of in the 10 minutes it took to type them out. A study would yield many more applicable passages.

Myth 3: My candidate doesn’t advocate “abortion on demand”—just that abortion be safe, legal and rare.
Response 3: The presidential candidates’ responses to the April Gonzales v. Carhart USSC decision reveal otherwise. Every major Democratic candidate was horrified that the Supreme Court would prevent a woman from obtaining a procedure that—as both sides admit—involves pulling a usually viable (and moving, struggling) child almost completely outside of the mother, stabbing it, and sucking out its brain. Eyewitness accounts revealed during trial that the babies were wriggling, struggling, and then go limp as then are “terminated.”

And Obama goes even further than Hillary Clinton or Ted Kennedy. Even Clinton and Kennedy approved the federal Born Alive Infants Protection Act, which declares that a child born “alive” (with a very specific definition) after an abortion must be given medical treatment. Indeed, there was little or no Democratic dissent on this bill at the federal level. Even to those Dems, it was obvious that a child born alive must get medical care. Yet, on THREE occasions Obama personally saw to it that a similar state bill did not become law in Illinois. On the first two occasions, Obama claimed that the bill did not contain the same safeguards to abortion rights as the federal bill. On the third occasion, the bill was identical to the overwhelmingly approved federal bill; yet Obama refused to allow the bill out of his committee and to a vote. In other words, he single-handedly retained a bill to prevent it to go to vote—a bill which would prevent infanticide. That is whacked out.

Myth 4: Even under Roe v. Wade, the “abortion right” is only present through the first trimester.
Response 4: The framework set up on Roe (and its companion case, Doe v. Bolton) actually permits abortion on demand through birth—unless a state promulgates a law otherwise. And of course, such state action is explicitly condemned by the Dems.

According to the definition of “health” in Doe, a woman can get an abortion for any reason. This is because “health” is defined so broadly as to take into account mood swings, a last-minute decision that a girl wants to play athletics instead of carry a baby to term, etc. This interpretation of the definition of “health” is not disputed (although we are acting fervently to change it). Thus, a woman can get an abortion at any time and for any reason. That is abortion on demand—and it is supported by every Democratic candidate who demands that Roe and Doe be upheld.

Conclusion

My heart grieves every time I hear of another Christian friend who is supporting a candidate who advocates actions clearly outside “the pale of orthodoxy”—in other words, outside the basic tenets common across the creed-professing Protestant and Catholic denominations. Matthew 15 immediately comes to mind. There, Christ explains the following:

“… [E]very good tree bears good fruit, but the bad tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a bad tree bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. Thus you will know them by their fruits.”

Note that the “bearing fruit” references throughout the Bible commonly refer to Christians who bear good fruit versus Christians who bear bad fruit—NOT Christians versus non-Christians. Christ then continues,

“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven. On that day, many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many deeds of power in your name?’ Then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you; go away from me, you evildoers.’”

Wow. My friends, think—no, PRAY—before you vote. You are either with Him, or you are against Him. There is no middle ground.

My baby is becoming a little boy... sniff, sniff

I've been fighting it for a while. Moses is becoming a little boy. The little one-piece outfits are no longer fitting, and there are none in his size (although, when you come into the world at 9.5 pounds, you don't have much of a shot at staying in baby clothes for very long!).

The realization hit me yesterday, when I picked up some pictures from the store. See for yourself:

I'm not ready to stop calling him "baby." He's not even 17 months yet, but he looks so grown up!

Lessons Learned With The First Child

There are definitely lessons a mom learns with her first child. Here are two rules I learned recently:

Rule 1: Never buy your child a stuffed animal with WHITE fur.

Rule 2: Never buy a stuffed animal that is "surface wash only." This is especially important if you neglect Rule 1.

(M refused to eat until Snoopy was in the highchair with him on this particular morning)

Sweetcorn Festival

If you have read anything on here before, one of my common discussions involves the uniqueness of our rural community. This weekend we traveled to the Sweetcorn Festival in a nearby town. It did not disappoint!

True to its name, there was sweetcorn available. And as born and bred Midwesterners, we were ready to consume. What I wasn't expecting was this: all you can eat sweetcorn, for FREE. That's right. Get in line, get an ear of corn, and go stand at waist high tables consuming as much as you'd like. Go back as many times as you'd like. Salt and pepper were provided at the tables. The family we traveled with had been there before, and they knew to bring the spray on butter.

But, as if that wasn't small-town America enough, check out the method of disposal. Yes, this is K throwing his corn cob into the back of a dump truck.

Free food and easy clean-up: that is our kind of fun.

I continue to marvel at our surroundings.

Only in Mayberry!, part 2

Several experiences/observations occurred this morning while I was walking with M, so I just had to continue my original blog, “Only in Mayberry!”

My first observation occurred as we left our yard and hit the street. I glanced down the street and noticed trucks/vehicles at the high school football field, no doubt pruning and preparing it for the ever important football season (remember, this is a small farming community—football is IMPORTANT!).

As I cross the street, I noticed a woman a few blocks down also crossing, but going the other direction. I believe she was pushing a baby buggy. About that time, a man passed her on his morning jog.

As we approach the downtown area, we hear saws operating in the woodworking business across the street, the smell of freshly cut wood crisp in the air. Further down the street, in front of “Woody’s” barber shop (which, by the way, looks like the barbershop on the Andy Griffith Show), an older, dressed-up man sits on the nice wood bench outside (again, it looks like a replica from Downtown Mayberry—the one all the old men sat on), waiting for it to open. He smiles at M and says good morning.

We continue on for a few blocks, then cross and work our way up shady Oak Street (of course, every town should have a shady street named “Oak”). I notice that J.C. the attorney/professor is out painting his house (with a small paint brush, of course; no haphazard rolling is to be done in this town!) in the morning sunlight. Around the corner, G.S. (who is, of course, related to all of the other Ses in town) is on her hands and knees pulling weeds out of her well-maintained garden.

We then stray from our normal path and go down Walnut Street (you know, the sister street to Oak Street). We first pass another friendly man out for a morning jog; he smiles and inquires how the baby is doing. About that time, a man up in a screened in porch yells out to us; “Good morning! How are you? Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Just a few paces up, I am greeted chipperly by a utility worker--wearing khakis! Clean khakis! With a crisp pleat!

At this point I ask myself, am I in a storybook? On a 40s television series? IN Mayberry???

But alas, I am not—for one occurrence broke the storybook feel. On the second time around our “path,” J.C. the attorney/professor was out on his patio, having finished the painting. He called us over to chat—but he was NOT sipping lemonade. If we were in a storybook, he would have been sipping lemonade.

And what, you may ask, was M doing all of this time? Well, when I looked down at one point, he was sitting straight in the stroller, surveying his world, arms leaning on the tray, with his hands clasped together in front of him.

AH—perfect baby, perfect town, perfect life!

Only in Mayberry!

Oh, the joy of raising a son!

I am new to this blogging thing, but I think the events of yesterday morning certainly warrant expression.

Let me set the scene: It is Tuesday morning. My mom is coming for the day to watch M. K left hours before to visit a congregation member in a hospital hours north of us. I am at home with M.

M awakes at about 7:15 (late for him!) and is completely soaked through. (This is not new. It is happening multiple times a week, and we have tried all of the diapers). So I strip him down, put on a new diaper, and get the sheets/his blankie out of the crib. In the meantime, I decide to take a quick shower before M has his breakfast-- so I barricade M in the hallway with baby gates (leaving the bathroom door open, so I can see him).

I am just getting out of the shower, when I hear a rustling in the hallway. No big deal. I know M has a book out there that make rustling noises. But then something catches my eye, flying over the gate, and falling to the ceramic tile with a light "thump." Hmmmm. It's a diaper. A wet diaper. And a naked one-year-old is standing outside the gate, staring at me, and sucking on his pacifier. It was quite the sight.

At this point, I am amused. I decide to continue drying off-- after all, how much more could he go? He already soaked his bed and the new diaper. And then I hear it-- he starts tooting. So I race out of the bathroom, saying, "Come on, M!"

Usually he follows. This time he didn't. I turn around-- he has backed himself against the wall in the hallway, and is watching the perfect "arch" come from down yonder. I yell, "No, M!" but of course, he can't stop. He just looks at me and giggles around his pacifier. I start moving toward him, and he decides to step in the nice wet spot on the carpet, and grind his toes into it.

Okay, I am still a little amused at this point. I mean, beholding that entire scene is just too much not to find funny. SO, back to the story.... I grab M and we head to the changing table in his room-- and this time I put clothes on him to prevent a repeat diaper escape. As I am snapping him up, the phone rings. (Keep in mind, I am still fresh from the shower...)

It's Mom, on her way to my house, and caught in a storm. She wants to know what the weather report is. So I finish snapping M, grab a towel, and head to the dining room where my laptop is located. Of course, the computer doesn't run quickly, and then the wireless connection goes down. That requires a trip upstairs (in my towel) to the office to correct it.

Back downstairs. I call mom back, give her the weather, head back to the bathroom (finally). Phone rings, and of course I had left it in the dining room. Towel on, answer phone-- it's K, asking what the weather report is, because he is stuck in bad weather. Back to the laptop, gave the report, back to the bathroom. By this time, my hair is almost dry, and I am sweating from all of the running around. I stick my hair up in a clip-- a look I could have achieved without washing my hair.

I did learn an important lesson in all of this, though: Sometimes it is just better not to shower.

Only in Mayberry!

As many of our "readers" know (er-- and by readers, I am probably only referring to my mom...), we moved in February to a small (rural) river town. I can't tell you how many times in the last 5 months we have looked at each other and said, "Only in Mayberry!" Here are a few:

1. A few weeks ago, our town celebrated "Homecoming Days," and we went one Thursday night to listen to the community band play in the city park. Let me emphasize these points: We listened to the COMMUNITY band, in the CITY park, using PUBLIC SCHOOL equipment, play GOD BLESS AMERICA, led by the JEWISH band instructor. Only in Mayberry! (Hopefully the ACLU is not reading this blog!)

2. The next night, we went and had a pulled pork dinner (local pork, no doubt) and listened to a bluegrass band. As we were leaving, a family was approaching, and called to their little boy, "This way, W!" W?! Only a George W. Bush FAN would possibly call their small child by the name "W." Only in Hamilton!

3. Last week, our church celebrated something that has been a tradition for 120 years (or so we have been told): a homemade ice cream social. Really, you can't even understand what a big deal this is! On Wednesday morning, our church family hand-churned (is that even the right word?) 200 gallons of ice cream in 6 flavors. We also made sandwiches, hotdogs, 50+ pies, and cake. All proceeds go to missions. And estimates in the past have been that 2000 people come through the line. For a town of 3,000, that a serious attendence rate! And believe it or not, we had customers this year from both coasts! Only in Mayberry!

4. This last one (for now-- this is surely a topic that will raise itself again!) may be a little embarrassing, as it lets you in on a family habit. We like to put MOS in his little radio flyer waggon a few times a week and go for family walks. Usually these family walks end up at Dairy Queen. While greeting people in the line at the ice cream social last week, I had people I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW say to me, "I guess no Dairy Queen tonight, huh?" What?! Are you serious? People I don't even know in this town know our habit of going to Dairy Queen? Only in Mayberry!

I LOVE this place!

June: A Month of Firsts!

I can't believe how fast June went by! But between a week of traveling for me, and a number of "firsts" for MOS (sorry, we are just using initials for privacy's sake), it was a whirlwind month.

(BTW: I apologize in advance. I realize this is a jumbled mess, but I am still trying to get the hang of it!)

I should probably start with the most traumatic first: his first head injury! About three hours after I left for my first trip of the month, I got a call that MOS had rammed his head into the coffee table. After a trip to the ER, he ended up with a band-aid and neosporin. Here he is growling at Grandma, showing off his band-aid and what a tough guy he is.

He also had his first haircut this month! After months of hearing that he needed to get it cut from people from church, I finally caved. And I have to admit, it does look pretty cute! He was fascinated for the first few minutes, but, as you can see, lost it after that.

It was also MOS's first Cardinal game! Daddy bought the tickets "for MOS" for his first birthday. So it was also his first encounter with Fredbird. We had so much fun, and on the way home even had his first trip to Hannibal. In one of these pictures, he is "feeding" the horse post outside Mark Twain's home.

And here is a picture of one more first, of sorts: his first one-on-one encounter with a lightening bug. Here he is "talking" to one on our front door:

What can I say? I LOVE being a Mommy!

This is a test!

Well, here we are, finally maintaining a family blog! Everyone else has one, but I am still trying to figure this out. So bear with me! More to come when I figure this thing out!