in my own little world

Knee deep in boxes, tangled in tape, wondering which box Zane will climb on top of next. These are the things that are dominating my thoughts.

Then I see this headline:

Tribe all but vanishes from Kenyan city

a blurb:
"KISUMU, Kenya - The young man hefting a machete at the burning roadblock was frustrated. He'd been looking for five days, but could not find a member of the Kikuyu tribe to kill."

I've been aware, even personally connected through my friend Andy who writes at Enter the Rainbow, of the atrocities in Kenya. But the image that was painted by reading this little bit of the story took my breath away. This level of violence seems so removed from my experience, it is sobering to realize only a few steps are between me and that kind of chaos.

This story reminded me of how so very often the things directly in front of our face are the ONLY things we can see. We are holed up in our own little worlds and while that can feel safe and warm (even in the middle of freak windstorms and super cold temperatures) it is not the best place to be.

When I we loose sight of so many other tragic things a part of my connection to the whole is lost. A part of me is lost. So I hope that in the next few days while my head will certainly be turned in the direction of the things that effect me most, I hope I can remember to be aware of others outside my immediate sphere of influences and at the very least say a prayer. Can you say one too?

I don't know...

I don't know what other mothers think about as the give their baby their "night night" bottle, but this one often thinks about and says a prayer for her son's "tummy mommy". I wonder what she is doing. Is she safe? Is she wondering about us? Does she know how much I love her and wish only the best for her?

As Zane wrings his hands over his bottle and clutches his "lovey" (fancy word for burb rag) to his face I marvel at the little man she created and placed into my arms.

I wonder if other moms contemplate the whys and hows their child is placed into their arms, or if that is something that is taken for granted when you haven't had to walk this particular route to parenthood.

Zane is only 9 1/2 months old. I was so nervous when he came into our lives. Today I'm more comfortable and enjoying every moment. They have already gone so fast!

One thing I do know: we are completely head over heels about this kid.
I mean, what's not to love?:


His daddy is clearly smitten!

(such a Daddy's boy!)

And: he had his 9 mo check up yesterday. We've clearly been pointing the camera in his face too much. When the doc went to look in his eyes with the light thingy, he sprouted a toothy grin. Can you say ham? He's doing great by the way, it was a particularly good visit as we didn't leave with him whimpering from any shots! We then got to go to Daddy's dr.'s office to visit the chemo nurses and say good bye before we head north next month. Mommy went to the dr. today, it's our "tour of health" before we move; we have dentist appointments the week before we go...

Peace,
Sarah

One Month...

A month from today the moving van will load up our earthly possessions to transport them to our new home. I've mostly resigned myself to the reality of living with boxes for the time being during the packing and unpacking time. I don't like it, but I'll deal with it.

I *am* appreciating the added level of difficulty that Z introduces as he is a cruising 9.5 month old boy who loves all things paper and cardboard, and keeping him out of the dog's water dish. Thank goodness for the wrapping paper rolls that he like to "vacuum" the floor with. These keep him occupied for at least 10 minutes straight!

Does anybody know the number of a good dumpster company? That is of course a rhetorical question. ;-)

If you don't hear from us for a while it is probably because we've taped ourselves into a corner and we are stuck behind a pile of books trying to keep the boy from eating their dust covers or the dust bunnies we find. Ooooh soft bunny..... gotta go.

The Rev.