"One Lord, One Faith, One Baptism"

So far during my short trial as a blogger, I have tried to avoid topics that I felt were overly controversial, naive, or cliche. I must admit that I do not feel entirely capable of defending my next statement as well as I would like to, especially since this notion has come to be so ridiculed by our progressive, pluralistic culture. I would like to explore the belief in one true religion, and ultimate truth.

I'm sure we've all heard the saying "there are many paths to heaven," or something similar. Newsweek magazine recently featured an article on the subject, titled "We're all Hindus now" (a reference to the core Hindu belief in a multiplicity of paths to salvation), which cited a study the Pew Forum, reporting that a majority of Protestant Americans now believe that people of other faiths can achieve salvation (this group is traditionally the least inclined to believe thus). This pluralistic, and even pantheistic, approach to religion can be attributed to many factors, which I will not attempt to exhaustively categorize here (collective sigh); however, undoubtedly, a few of these factors include society's emphasis on religious/cultural tolerance and relativism, as our society becomes more secular, and I believe it can also be attributed to general spiritual laziness.

Lately I have experienced a "cooling" of my own religious fervor, as most of my time and mental energy has been funneled into work, school, and preparation for my professional and adult life. I have to work weekend nights in order to go to school full-time, and so this leaves me almost comatose on Sunday mornings, when we go to church. Couple this with the tidal wave of secular thought and argument I encounter daily in academia, and it results in a 'perfect storm' of doubt, nearly capsizing my small vessel of faith. As a returned-missionary, I am able to recognize the pattern, even in myself, of a testimony wavering under fire. I am ashamed that I, too, am capable (or incapable, I should say) of such a thing: being tempted, having doubts, second-guessing, and sinking into skepticism.

I like to think that this is just a transitional time in my life-- a time that will redefine me, for the better-- and that these feelings of doubt, and explorations of other possibilities, are healthy (albeit uncomfortable) and necessary phenomena, ultimately leading me to a stronger, more defensible position of faith. I like to think so, but I'm not so sure.

Two of my favorite religious/philosophical authors, C.S. Lewis & Stephen E. Robinson, have written convergently about the level of dedication and faithfulness required for acceptance into the Kingdom of God, based on scripture: that our devotion must be a conscious and complete willingness to accept and keep the covenant He has proposed for our salvation --knowing that we could be wrong, but choosing this course 'come what may.' It is as a marriage, in which we promise to be faithful, no matter what, trusting that God will never abuse us. They argue that this level of faithfulness alone, and nothing less, that will satisfy our end of the covenant.

Extrapolating this into everyday application can be difficult, but a pertinent example for me is this: to make up my mind now that I will always follow the teachings of the gospel, keep the commandments and the covenants I have made, and when I make mistakes or struggle with doubt, that I will do my best to repent and to reconcile myself to the church, and to God. This would require more than simple activity in church meetings and practices, as this can be done by passively 'running through the motions.' This requires an active awareness of to what it is I am promising, and an unwavering commitment henceforth. And what's more, this should not be a burden, but a liberation (or, in other words, I should be happy about it).

Einstein once said: "He who joyfully marches to music rank and file, has already earned my contempt. He has been given a large brain by mistake, since for him the spinal cord would surely suffice. This disgrace to civilization should be done away with at once." And I have heard other important literary figures suggest that some of the greatest tragedies in the world's history were committed by simple people who had committed themselves to some cause or other, in like fashion. By pure irony, terrible wars have been waged, and countless other atrocities committed, which could have been avoided if people had stopped to think for themselves, and question the authority and inspiration of their leaders.

And so, we begin to get a sense of just what God is asking of us: in the face of knowing that we run this risk (of committing ourselves to a cause we cannot be sure of), me must do it, trusting that this one is the real thing-- the one sure hope for salvation. We must use the brain we have been given, all of it, and still decide to follow him, even blindly, if need be. That is a lot to ask, and for me, it requires a level of trust that I am barely capable of, if at all.

I think, as an attempt to reconcile these conflicting points of view, our society is beginning to popularize this new, open-minded approach toward religion, with the hope that this will curb fundamentalism and extremism, foster diversity, and encourage dialogue between old rivals and xenophobes. Unfortunately, there are unforeseen, undesirable consequences to this strategy, or perhaps they are foreseen, in which case we should worry. One of these consequences is the cheapening of the role of religion in our lives and culture: making its various beliefs and practices nothing more than items to select and mismatch, as if at a buffet, literally making morality and faith a matter of taste, persuasion, and opinion.

I am not a conspiracy theorist. I laugh at, and get furious with the likes of Glenn Beck, Michael Savage, Ann Coulter, Bill O'Reily, Rush Limbaugh, etc., when they prey upon the fears of ignorant people, by insisting that there is some secret, secular New World Order who wants to abolish religion and control our lives; however, I am aware that there are many prominent people (writers, journalists, actors, musicians, politicians, corporate executives, etc.) who do want the public interface of society to be atheistic, and who lobby for such an end. But I don't believe they have some unified 'master plan' to take over the world --they enjoy their freedom just as much as we do.

On the issue of the one, real truth, I believe it must exist. Physicists search for their "theory of everything," which encompasses the labyrinth of quantum mechanics, chemistry, and life itself, and explains these in the language of mathematics. This is a noble search: it will bring us closer to understanding the universe, and ourselves, but it will not complete our understanding, it will not bring the self-actualizing singularity promised by post-humanists, or help us to transcend our mortality and our humble place in the universe. For these are metaphysical quests-- these are the reasons why we are spiritual beings. I think those who put their "faith" in science alone, and advocate that all should follow suit, are doing themselves an injustice, and us as well.

To say it plainly, I believe that there is one true God, and one way to Eternal Life. There may be many paths, but there is only one path that is most direct, and there is only one entrance at the final destination. There is only one ultimate truth, and it is true for everyone. I believe this, and I believe that while some people may be fortunate enough to find it in life, those who do not will be given the opportunity after death, or else God would be a partial being: unjust and unmerciful. I feel that we should search for the truth, and not be content until we are confident we have found it. And if one is not sure ones religion or church is true, why continue to follow it? Why give up the search? We had better believe we are near the truth, or I believe we will have to answer for our negligence in searching it out.

Mission Memories (part 4)

This post is about my mission. To see other simillar post, click on the mission tab under "labels."

I arrived in Pato Branco in August, which down there was near the end of winter. Elder Melo and I braved the cold winds and rain with holes in our shoes, and broken umbrellas. It was shortly after arriving in Pato that we were invited by a less-active couple, Irmao Tobias and his very small wife (both of whom had a very interesting story), to come have lunch with them where they lived, in a small town, several miles west of Pato Branco, called Mariopolis. While there, they introduced us to a woman named Rosa, and her daughter. They had been talking to lots of people in the town about the church, including preachers of other faiths, some of whom even came to General Conference with us in October! I guess they were trying to get a group going there so they didn't have to travel so far to go to church.

This woman, Rosa, had already known other sets of missionaries when she and her family had lived in Pato Branco several years past, but they had moved away and lost contact with them, and the church. She was very happy to see us, and invited us to come to her house and teach her whole family. We visited their "house," which was nothing more than a small shanty with some furniture, a stove, and 4 children. I had never seen such poverty. The children worked with their parents as seasonal field-hands, hand-picking beans or grapes on a plantation, for which they earned a small pittance-- barely enough to survive on.

It was shortly after this October General Conference that Elder Melo was transferred to another area, to become a senior companion, and I was asked to be a trainer to a new missionary. His name was Elder I. Sousa, from Rio de Janeiro: a carioca! So, I was going to have a filho, but, once again, he was older than me by a few years. We had a difficult time at first: he had been a paralegal in Rio, living alone, and working in the business district of the city, before he came to the mission. He was very particular about his things, and sometimes, just for fun, I would re-arrange them for him! He would flip whenever I did that. We soon got to be very good friends.

He was very outgoing and friendly with everyone we met and taught. Sometimes this was something of a problem, as our investigators began to see us as just friends, rather than teachers. Several months went by without much success. We were teaching lots of people, including Rosa's family, but were not able to commit any of them to baptism. We began searching out the less active members, teaching them, and asking them to refer us to their friends. One family we found, that of Irmao Jose, lived in a distant neighborhood from the city center where the church was. They began coming back, and they introduced us to a wonderful young couple with two small children, whom we began to teach all together! By doing this, we were able to help re-activate a family, and bring another one with them that already had friends and a support system! That was one of the best experiences of my mission.

It was the week before I left Pato Branco that we finally had baptisms, 5 of them: Irma Rosa, and her 4 children! The Branch was able to help them find a small, but clean and very sturdy house, in Pato Branco, so they could all come to church without much ado. They were very happy to finally be able to become members of the church. Their baptisms were a witness to me of the power of prayer and fasting, and the fulfillment of a promise that I received by the Spirit. By the end of my time in that city I had come to love the members of that Branch so deeply, that I wept to leave it. I had gained the confidence and friendship of Presidente Rufato and his whole family, especially his parents, with whom we had spent Christmas (my only Christmas away from home), and used their phone to talk to our families. I also got to talk to Shauni on the phone that day for a few minutes, because she went over to my parents' house. That was a great surprise!

There are so many other things I can think of, it would take 4 more posts just about Pato Branco to tell them all, but I'll spare you. When, after 7 1/2 months, I was finally transferred, I knew I would never forget the time I spent in the city of White Duck.

Ditat Deus

For those not from Arizona, or not familiar with Latin, that's Arizona's state motto, it means, "God Enriches." That sums up, better than anything, the way I feel right now. I wrote a little earlier that I was feeling a little down, frustrated, and worried about the future. Well, in the past week some exciting, unforeseen things have happened that have helped change that.

I recently had the opportunity to request a transfer for work to a nicer facility, and one nearer my house, and it looks like it's going to happen! I've been there before, and I like the night crew that I'll be working with. It's on the campus of the Mayo Clinic in Scottsdale, and it lives up to their high standards and reputation. I'm truly excited, even though it's pretty busy at night, and I'll definitely be "earning my keep" by working there. The only down side is, it's full-time or not at all. So, looks like I'll be working full-time and going to school full-time for a while to come. However, I will not be tutoring, so I'll still have two days during the week to do homework, spend time with my family, and relax.

So that's work, now on to school. This will be a busy semester: I'll be taking 3 sciences (Organic Chemistry, Organic Evolution, and Animal Physiology), and I'll be a research assistant to my Physics and Genetics professors, working on a project studying yeast! No really, it's a cool project. I went in to speak to my advisor a few days ago, and she reassured me immensely, and gave me hope and confidence that I'm on the right path towards getting into medical school. If all goes well, I should be able to graduate from ASU in May of 2011, and, hopefully, enter med school that August.

I was thinking that I would either have to find part-time work, or Shauni would have to, this semester in order to make enough to cover our expenses. But just yesterday, my financial aid refund came in the mail, and it was three times as much as I was expecting! It was like pennies from Heaven! Don't get me wrong, I know where it came from, but I had checked my status just a day or two before the dispersal, and there had been no change; then, all-of-a-sudden, and in our hour of need, we got this huge, unexpected help. Once again, our needs have been provided for, and Shauni will still be able to stay home with our boy, like she wants to, and I will be able to focus on 1 job, and on school. I feel very grateful for all these things, excited about this coming semester, and renewed vigor to pursue my dreams.

A Poem

I used to be a pretty avid poet, but I haven't written anything for over a year. The other night I was at work, watching a man with what we call "terminal restlessness," who kept trying to crawl out of bed. I had to hover over him like that because he had already succeeded once, a few days earlier, and nearly broke his neck! His family had expressed how they wished he would just move on, and some of the staff as well. I was thinking about this as I watched him, and these words just sort of came to me. Hope you like it, if not, let me know. Either way, feedback will be appreciated.

Wanderlust

Please, go quietly into your goodnight.
If you've spent it well, or ill, it's spent.
Your youth, your prime, your time is over,
We, the living, though we loved you,
Do not wish to love much longer.

As our patience passes away, you delay.
A moment of concerted effort only
Is all we can spare from our busy day;
For, the present is our master, lonely.

And though we would heal, forgive past offenses,
Make amends, tie-up loose ends,
And part with you on good terms, with sweet tears,
We must content ourselves with the bitter:
There are bills to pay, and appearances to make.

Perhaps there's a reason why old, oriental men
Leave home to wander, beg, pray, and die
Without a ceremony-- To spend their last day
Under the gaze of strangers, or, nobody.

Maybe this is why you are anxious, confused, restless:
Because this is no longer your world?
You belong to the woodlands, to the wilderness,
To the deserted temples and wastelands.
They call to you, to come add your bones to theirs'.

I would let you go, but for my guilt and fear,
And there are laws against that sort of thing here.

So I plead, go quickly, do not tarry;
For, life no longer makes you happy.
When you're gone, we'll think better of you.
Legacy is the key, and it lives after life.

The Prince and his Rose. (Part 1)

I apologize to those who may have already heard this story from Shauni, but maybe in my retelling you may have the chance to enjoy it again, from another perspective.

Shauni and I go way back. We have been friends since I was a sophomore in High School, she a junior, and we were acquaintances for a year before we became friends. Shauni doesn't remember this, but I remember the first time I saw her: it was in the Lakeside LDS Seminary building, off the campus of Blue Ridge High, one afternoon when I came in during lunch to talk to Brother Moon, the much-loved, and greatly-missed Seminary teacher, who later became my bishop. I remember seeing Shauni, I think she was holding her viola, standing over by the piano in the classroom. I was there with a friend, and I didn't know her name, so we didn't really meet then, but when I looked at her, she gave me a huge, beautiful smile.

Over the next few years, Shauni and I went on at least 5 group dates to the school dances together, but never as a couple. I had been over to her house, a popular hang-out spot, and got to know her sisters, and little brother, Dallin. Then, in the fall of 2002, we really got to know each other. We sat next to one another in Seminary, and worked together during the many group discussions and activities that Brother Moon had us do. I was a junior, Shauni was a Senior. Shauni told me later that it was around this time she started feeling like she might be in love with me, but I was thick, and either ignored her signs, or didn't notice them.

One day we got to the building early, and it was cold outside. I rode the bus to school, walked over to the building, and was standing outside shivering, when Shauni pulled up, and offered to let me sit with her in the warm car. How could I refuse? We started talking about her plans to go to college after she graduated, and I mentioned how I would be moving at the end of the school year. Then we started, well, flirting, and joking around about a possible future together, when Shauni surprised us both by saying, "then you'll move back to Arizona, and we'll get married!" I laughed and blushed, she was embarrassed, and we didn't say much after that. But it left me with a sweet feeling, it was the closest thing to a real "I love you" that anyone had ever said to me.

The next semester passed, and being the insensitive teenage boy that I was, I didn't really go out of my way to talk to, or hang out with her, and every time I passed her in the hallway, she would look at me with a longing that made me feel both guilty, and very dumb. Her best friend, a funny, fiery red-head named Cammette, accosted me in the school parking lot one day. She demanded to know why I had neglected Shauni for months, and not responded to her obvious attempts to talk to me, and what my real feelings for Shauni were. I lamely replied that I was trying to avoid getting into any relationship, because I was moving and planning on a mission, but as for my feelings about Shauni, I would feel very lucky if I married a girl like her someday. That was a revelation even to myself. She seemed satisfied with this, for the moment, and allowed me to go. Shauni told me later that she was very embarrassed by Cammette's boldness, but it proved to be a catalyst for the things that followed, and gave her hope and courage.

The last dance of the year came, a girl-ask-guy dance, and Shauni had decided that this was the last chance to make something happen between us. There was another girl I had been dating here and there at the time, and she was also planning on asking me, but by some fortunate stroke, she asked Shauni, who was an upper-class man, for permission first. Shauni politely insisted on asking me, since she was a senior. I have often thought how strange it is that seemingly small events, that could easily have been changed, make such a difference in the long run.

There's a really funny story about how Shauni actually asked me to the dance, but she remembers the details much better than I, who couldn't do it justice. She tried several things, which all failed, and finally snuck into my house at night while we were gone, and buried a laminated slip of paper in a tub of margarine which she placed on the piano outside my room, which read "look in your room!" (which I was going to do ANYWAY!). Once inside, I saw that my room had been strewn with popcorn, and there was a poster on my dresser with the punch line, "I just thought I'd butter you up, before I popped the question! Will you go to the dance with me? from AHSUNI." I responded with a Hebrew encoded play-on-words, that said, "to AHSUNI, whoever you are, A funny look, a chocolate bar." I had a stranger deliver the message to her with a chocolate bar, while making a funny face. She was baffled, and I had to help her decode it, but the encrypted message, " a funny look, a chocolate bar," was a Hebrew transliteration for "aph, ani lu khashat let bahr." which is very bad Hebrew, but says, loosely, "yes, I would love to go, clearly." She loved it, which made me happy because it took me several hours of tinkering with some Hebrew words to make something intelligible.

For the pre-dance date, we went with a big group of friends on a picnic to a beautiful little town called Greer, where we played games, went ice-blocking down a little grassy hill, and went cray fishing. It was the best date ever. We had a progressive dinner, going from house to house, until it was time to go to the dance. We didn't stay long at the dance, we mostly just went for the pictures, but during the few slow songs they played, Shauni and I would move slowly, hold each other tightly and stare into each others' eyes intently. It was that night I knew that I cared for her very deeply. That night Shauni also invited me to her graduation, which would be in a week or so, and to a clean after-party at a mutual friend's house. It's interesting that another couple who went with us on this date, also got married: Luke Gabe and Jessica Williams.

So, graduation night came. Shauni had lent me her large copy of our Co-ed picture to leave a note on the back, and I brought it with me to the party, which was at Karli Flake's house, in the country club. Once again, we had a great time. Karli's folks had a HUGE trampoline that we all took turns on, bouncing each other, and it was such a clear night that, after we were all worn out, someone brought out a bunch of blankets, and we all laid on the tramp to look at the stars. Shauni and I laid close together, and, you know trampolines, we eventually were side-by-side. I took her by the hand--a little bold for me-- and started to tell her how much I would miss her. We laid like that, talking to each other and looking at the bright stars through the trees, well into the night. I had just told her how much I would miss her when I moved away, and then Shauni whispered something to me that startled me out of my dream state, like a meteor blazing through the sky, she said, "I love you." It took me a minute to recover, and I finally choked out the only thing I could think to say in return, " I love you, too."

"I've got big dreams, but no self-esteem, ya know."

I'm not big on punk, but ska, and in particular Reel Big Fish, is alright. I just thought that line an apt title for this post. The post about my sweetheart is on its way, it's just taking longer than I thought. For the 10th time, or so, I've been trying to plan the next few years of school, and see what I have to do in order to get a real job in my lifetime, and before my kids grow up. I also have some goals and dreams that I want to plan for, but they all seem so far away from being realized!

Shauni and I have been talking about making a change in our routine a lot, lately. Before we moved to Phoenix, my plan was to take 1-2 lab sciences per semester, and another class or two, to fill up the requisite 12 credit hours needed to be considered full-time for financial aid. Along with that, I would work weekend nights, full-time, so that I would not need to go into debt for school, and so I could get a hefty chunk of medical/clinical experience to prepare me for medical school. Well, it's been one semester so far, and I think some thing's gotta give. I say this for several reasons: 1, by only taking 1-2 lab sciences per semester, I will not get my bachelors degree until I have been in school for over 5 years (I got a late start by changing my major after a year and a half at a community college); 2, working full-time leaves me no extra time, or energy, to take more classes than that; 3, Because I work every Saturday and Sunday night, I am always tired at church, during the semester I never get a break, and I have really felt out-of-touch with my spiritual side lately.

So, I'm making some new goals, which will require a few changes, I want to:

1. Be done with my B.S. by Spring 2011, with little or no debt (besides my car, which will be paid off the next year)
2. Get above a 3.5 GPA, and above a 3.0 for sciences
3. Take the MCAT by next Spring, and score within the 85th percentile
4. Enter Med School by Fall 2011, finish by Spring 2015 (by the time Jaren begins 1st grade)
5. Find a career with 9-5 hours, Monday-Friday, minimum management, earn over $100k/year, so I can spend lots of time with my family, and enjoy a retirement
6. Find a place to work and live in Lakeside, Flagstaff, Payson, or Durango (somewhere cool and mountainous)
7. Be able to take a super-vacation for my 10th anniversary with Shauni (to the East Coast, Europe, or Brazil)

In order to do this, something I need to do now is take more classes each semester, which means working less. Shauni and I have been thinking that, perhaps, I could reduce my work to part-time, only two nights a week, and be a tutor to make a little extra (and get some good experience) while Shauni could be a substitute teacher once or twice a week. Since I don't have classes either Wednesday or Friday, I could watch Jaren while she went to work. Of course, we could always just accept the subsidized loans I've been offered for the next few years, but we'd rather not, unless we have to.

We plan on having a few more children, not sure exactly how many but we think about 4, and we're thinking about spacing them out about 3 years apart from each other. Which means, by the time I'm starting medical school in the fall of 2011, hopefully, that we'll be having our next baby, and the one after that will come when I still have about a year left. We also want to move to wherever we're going before Jaren starts school. So we might find somewhere in this cool, mountainous, unknown place during my last year-- when I'll be doing my clinical rotations away from home anyway-- for Shauni and the kids to live while I finish school. If everything goes timely and well, as I hope, Shauni and I will have been married for nearly 8 years, and we'll have 3 kids by the time I'm finally done with school and can start my real job!

This all sounds so daunting and far away, but I know that no-one else will do this for me. If I don't plan and do what is necessary for me to have the future I want for myself and my family, we wont have it. Sometimes I wish I had a guide-- a mentor, to help me, and who I could talk to and ask advice from. In this age of the Internet and fierce competition for skilled occupations, I feel like I'm always the last one to know about some helpful Internet resource, or unspoken, common knowledge about the application process and all the preparation needed to give one a competitive edge. I feel like the fact that I'm a young, white, married, Christian, American man puts me at a disadvantage when every medical school I investigate says on their homepage that they are looking for applicants who will help diversify their class. To me, that says I am not wanted: that the world has enough white, male doctors.

Dear World: Please prove me wrong!

I'm not black, but I still have a dream. I'm not a woman, but I believe that merit should be awarded not based on your sex, but on your achievement and hard work. I don't belong to a minority, but it was still difficult for me to be successful in school, to fit into society, and to go to college. I don't feel like a victim, or feel the need to blame someone else for my incapacities, but many things outside of my control have hindered me throughout my life. I have not had it easy. I don't think many people do have an easy life, unless you are born into that elite top 1% of Americans who control 50% of our country's wealth. Needless to say, I am not one of those people. Maybe I'm worried and making much ado about nothing. It's just that I've known too many close friends and associates who have been blocked from their dreams for this reason, to think that couldn't happen to me.

I wish I had more confidence in myself, and in the system. I want to believe that the system is just, because I know I can be a good doctor, but, ultimately, whether or not I get into medical school is not my decision. And that lack of control over my own destiny is disconcerting.

Some things I want to do to improve my odds are: lose some weight (that will help with my self-esteem, at the least), get good grades (as I mentioned), try to remain optimistic, learn all the little things I need to know in order to play the game well, and try to enjoy, and keep, my job as a CNA. I am a very lucky man: I have a wonderful life and family, I've been blessed with great opportunities and with great friends, and I'm grateful for all these things.

On Being a Father

For some reason, this seems like the most difficult thing to write about so far. I guess it's because there is some kind of security in writing about remote and abstract things that have little reflection on me, personally. Writing about my family is completely different. It's difficult not to idealize what I write-- to be candid and honest-- for fear it might sound common or sentimental. But, why should I be worried about that?

Being married... Being a Dad... sometimes I still think it hasn't hit me yet. Already Shauni and I have been married two years, my little boy knows my name, can almost walk, and has his very own personality. To me, he was just born! I can see myself in his face. There's no sufficient explanation for that feeling... It's ineffable, like something spiritual. Even though I know he is not me-- he will grow up to be very different from me-- I know that half the fabric of his mind and body came from me and my ancestors! It confounds me.

I think of all my known ancestors, just the ones I have some record of (approx 1,000), then add the few known thousands of my wife, and our son is descended from all of them combined! Bits and pieces of all those people, haply meeting in his little form, to make a cute, chubby, toothy-grinned little boy.

Jaren has already decided on distinct roles for both of us: Shauni (Mama), is the caretaker and protector and comforter, the one for whom most of the whining and crying and yelling is intended, she is the pretty one, with the makeup box and the food supply (and from whom he will not accept any imitation, ie. bottle or sipycup), and the one who, as he knows, has near-endless patience for his selfish, and sometimes bratty, behavior. Shauni is a really great mom, and even though Jaren might not know that yet, because right now all he cares about is himself, I know he will someday, and he'll be very grateful to her. I (Dada), am the one who does much less of the important day-to-day stuff (diapers, feeding, bathing, waking up with, etc. [which I need to repent of]), and who leaves a lot, and hides for hours in the bedroom half of the time (I work nights), but who redeems himself, at least for him, by playing fun games and rough-housing.

Some of our favorite things to do together are: playing tickle-monster, chase around the house on hands and knees while growling "I'm gonna getcha!" (he knows that phrase), pretending that I'm a lion by donning the lion throw-rug my parents bought for him, and he loves to crawl all over me in bed when Shauni carries him in to wake me up on days that I work. Jaren also likes it when I throw him up in the air (only if he can feel my hands, and if I don't let go of him completely), and when I hold him like a big sub-sandwich and pretend to eat him.

I like spending quiet time with him, too, when he'll let me. Sometimes, when he's really tired, he'll let me hold him and rock him to sleep in the rocking chair next to his crib. Other times, he'll let me hold him on my lap and feed him a sippycup of milk. But these moments are rare, and so I treasure them. Most of the time, that boy is "Go!Go!Go!" all day, until he crashes.

He stood on his own feet with no help or support for about 20 seconds the other day! Before that, he was getting brave and trying new and risky things, like climbing up on things by himself, and cruising along the walls, but ever since then he has been scared to be left standing alone, and will cry and cry if he gets stuck or stranded while cruising, or if Shauni or I try to stand him in the middle of the floor and let go. We both know he could easily walk already, but he must not be ready yet, mentally. It is a new and wonderful experience to watch him develop, and I enjoy it so much.

I'm so grateful he is a healthy and happy boy. I'm so grateful his well-educated and accomplished Mama thinks he is important enough to stay at home with, nurture, and take care of, and that, so far, I'm able to earn enough so we are able to do so, even though she could earn a lot more than me at present.
My next post will be dedicated to her, and it will probably be long and sappy, just FYI.