Forgiveness Is the Heart of the Matter

I have a heavy heart right now.  The few times I actually watch the news it all seems bad and worse.  Yesterday I relieved my mind of some very deep thoughts on guilt.  I also tried to process crime and punishment.  It seems that the two don't always go hand-in-hand, but perhaps that's just the way the world works.  We have to be concerned with ourselves first.  As consistently as sunrise and sunset, people - myself included - will continue to make mistakes, bad choices, and errors.  So aside from consequences, what is the one thing mankind needs in order to move forward?  Forgiveness.

Remember my mentioning Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice yesterday?  As a sinful human, I love the following passage more than anything else:

The quality of mercy is not strain'd,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes. (IV, 1, 180-187)

What Portia is saying in TMOV is that you cannot force an angry person to be merciful.  Furthermore, when leniency is coerced, it really isn't compassionate at all.   However, when forgiveness is offered, it benefits both the guilty and the prosecuting parties for their own reasons.   Consider this:

When someone wrongs you - be it physical or emotional harm - it's only natural that you feel anger towards that person.  Possibly you become fixated on concepts like karma, anticipating negative things to enter into the aggressor's life.  Sure this is common behavior and comes naturally.  But remember we are a fallen creation.  While we were created in God's image, we are also stalked by Satan who has waged an eternal war against our salvation.

Think about times when you are filled with anger, wrath, revenge.  Physically you may present a scowled face.  You may have stressors inside causing you to feel ill.  Emotionally you can concentrate on nothing else.  In devoting all of this emotional energy on the downfall of another person, you are really sacrificing energy you could be spending enjoying other aspects of your life.

Is this falling on deaf ears?  Are you comfortable forgiving and moving on?  Okay consider this:

A more difficult task is learning to forgive oneself.  Once you commit an offense, you should make up for the error in a choice of ways: offer an apology, make some restitution, or do penance. And then move on.  But can you?  Do you ever get a gnawing pit in your gut when you encounter a former vice?  Do you ever avoid awkward conversations because you are never quite sure if you are forgiven?  If you feel affected by a guilty conscience, perhaps it's because you have not forgiven yourself.  You are perpetually convicting yourself of a past wrong doing.  Is this justified?  Or are you committing cruel and unusual punishment against yourself.

Have you ever sat around with a group of friends and played the If-I-Could-Live-One-Life-Era-Again-What-Would-I-Change game?  Boy am I good at that!  I have so many things in the past I would change in a heartbeat.  There are plenty of situations I would handle differently, some as superficial as my questionable fashion sense in the early 90s and others that I hold much closer to my heart.  I mentioned this to a confidant recently, and she quickly set me straight.  She reminded me what I should already know:  If you could go back through life, undoing all of your past mistakes, how and when would you ever learn the accompanying lessons?

Regrets?  I have a few.  Guilty Conscience?  I still recognize that feeling from time to time.  Nevertheless,  I believe that if you are living with regret and/or if you frequently feel like the world is condemning you, perhaps it is you who cannot forgive yourself.

Do you have tips on how to let yourself off the hook?  Do you have a favorite scripture, self-help book, movie, or other media which has really inspired you?  If you are brazen enough to confess, what is your biggest regret and how do you choose to overcome that regret?  Or do you?  I would love to know I'm not alone, so I look forward to your comments.



Update 9/22/2015: If you are new to my blog due to the Blogelina Commentathon, welcome!  I hope you stay a while.  I'm an emotional person and sometimes you will see light, fluffy tutorials.  Other times I'll share a great recipe or two.  Then there are times, like this super popular post, when I blend real life and Social Media life by writing about my heavy heart.  I have always believed writing/journaling/blogging is a great way to process my thoughts.  I hope you stick around beyond this event; we could be great friends!

Though Justice Be Thy Plea, Consider This:

I'm currently binge-watching the last few episodes of ABC's How To Get Away With Murder in anticipation of the new season coming up.  Gosh I love this show.  It's truly a guilty pleasure of mine. Viola Davis is everything.

© ABC Network

Then my brain starts working in overtime, and all of these words and phrases start spinning through my mind:

guilty pleasure

get away with murder

guilt...

punishment that fits the crime

consequences

get away with...

I don't reference Shakespeare as often as my blog title would suggest.  But The Merchant of Venice (TMOV) is, hands down, in my top-three all-time favorites of his works.  As a student, I was tickled that I could understand it all on my own cognizance.  As an educator, I was pleased that its themes of friendship, justice, wealth, racial stereotypes and mercy were truly timeless and resonated with so many of my students.  As an adult I have so many real-world people who play the parts of the characters - a rotating cast, if you will.

Al Pacino as Shylock 2004 © 2004 Sony Pictures Entertainment, Inc.

In TMOV, several characters are forced to face the consequences of their choices.   There are superfluous decisions like elopement, moral dilemmas over usury and semi-gambling, and even grand theft larceny.  The character of Shylock -- at once a small-claims court plaintiff -- attempts to get away with murder claiming "justice" served (think a bad check writer being sentenced to Lethal Injection), but his plan is foiled in a most ironic way.  Though he professes to stand on the letter of the law, Shylock reveals quite clearly that his real motive has nothing to do with right or wrong, justice or injustice, but with his desire to destroy another human being.  How often do we, too, use good intentions as our excuse to be unusually cruel or condescending on our fellow peers?

Everyday I see inconsistencies in life.  I see drivers receiving speeding tickets as I (wrongfully) drive 15 mph over the limit past the scene.  I hear about good, well-meaning people being laid off from their jobs while I receive pitifully poor customer service from a lacksidasical employee.  Or I hear of people charged with crimes being punished completely differently based on the strength of their lawyers and/or the socioeconomic background within which they exist.  It just doesn't seem fair!  It doesn't seem right.  I was having this very conversation with a close friend yesterday.  We were saying things such as "(s)he hasn't learned a d@mn thing!"..."(s)he will eventually get what's coming." "The system played favorites instead of doing what it's supposed to do."  Are we right?  And more importantly, do we have the right to feel that way?  I am neither judge nor jury to my peers.  I am simply a person who has lived a life full of choices, mistakes, retribution, lessons, growth, improvement.  Aren't we all?

I think the big picture is consequence, and the most important outcome is growth and/or change.  As Christians we are called to follow the law of the land, but only until the law contradicts with how Jesus taught us to live.  Jesus didn't just say "You who are innocent throw the first stone," He also said "Go and sin no more".  He recognized us as sinful people and He openly said that we had to die (completely change our ways and our desires) before we could live forever.   It isn't up to me to decide whether a person is sorrowful or remorseful.  But it is my duty to live the best version of my life in accordance with what will help me gain entrance into Heaven and to hold others accountable when they are failing in the same area.

Crime and punishment, despite being inherent in a person's mind and soul, is processed in the most errantly human way possible.  So there will always be episodes of the system getting it wrong.  There will be times when one person must give that entire pound of flesh -- blood and all -- and another simply has to feel the prick of the knife before being saved.   Again, I am not judge or jury and I have no desire to be.  But I have made mistakes, I have overcome bad choices, and I will be happy to share my lessons with you.  After you serve your punishment -- however large or small, cruel or cautious it may be.

What do you think about crime and punishment?  Have we become a revenge-hungry body of people?  Why does it always seem that money and/or power triumphs Lady Justice's scales?  What's more important: that the guilty pay or that we - who are all guilty of something - seek self improvement in order to be a beacon of strength and hope to others?

Hit me up in the comments.  And be nice!

I Work From Home And...

 

For the past five years I have been a work from home mom, and it's damaging my relationship with my kids. 

Pay close attention to the word "from" if you will.  I am not a work-at-home mom, I am a work-from-home mom. Work-at-home moms prevent the laundry from ever piling up, make three-course dinners, do Pinterest-worthy arts and crafts with their Laura-Ashley-clad children, and take day trips to the local zoo. Or at least that's what I imagine they do. 

Work-from-home moms are trying to earn a paycheck. We often are required to turn in spreadsheets, activity reports, sales quotas, and/or participate in conference calls all the while Mickey Mouse Clubhouse is playing a little too loudly in the background.  Seriously, why does Mickey and the gang rely so heavily on Tootles? Can't they ever be prepared to face the task at hand? See what I did there? I even resent my children's cartoons because they play on the television all day long. While I'm trying to work!

Usually I can find around three uninterrupted, child-free hours to power through and be productive. My oldest son is in elementary school, my daughter is in preschool and the baby son goes to an at home (not my home) daycare.  But anytime an extraneous circumstance puts one or more of the kids with me all day, all Hell tends to break loose.  Like bleach drizzled into a laundry load of darks, this frustration is surely to leave a permanent scar on my kids' memories.  I fear the worst, people.

Let's talk damage, shall we? First and foremost I tend to resent my kids. I'm so envious of people who get to leave the house and go to work. People like, say, my husband.  For eight hours nobody wants to be held.  For eight hours nobody needs a diaper change.  When my kids are hungry, I don't care...didn't we just eat breakfast?  I promise not to let you starve to death, sweet child, but if you use the word "snack" one more time I'm going to lose it!  Oh, and it never fails...I will get everyone still and occupied, sit down at the desk, and then hear the tell-tale grunts from the little guy filling up his diaper. He's just gonna have to sit in it.  Oh, he stinks and he's sitting right at my feet.  Might as well change him because I'm sure as heck not going to be able to concentrate.  

Now, if there is a school production, special parent's lunch, class party, etc. I am always expected to be there.  It's not like I have to ask off work, right? But you can bet I have only halfway dressed, no makeup, and if you ask me to bring something it's going to be store bought, got it?  I don't want to be that mom.  It goes against who I am inside.  I love to bake, get dressed up, and smell good.  Call me vain; I can take it.  I like pleasing people with my domestic skills.  It's just that I had two precious quiet hours on said morning and I'm sure as heck not going to spend them at the oven.  Or the makeup mirror.  This is as good as it gets.  

I have lost the concept of quality time.  My kids deserve a mom who will sit on the floor and play with them.  Build wooden block towers with them.  Dress their Barbies.  But my first, damaging, instinct is to believe "I've been around you all day.  Isn't that enough?" 

Did I mention that my mother and I work together? In fact most days we work from her home.  This means that when my children are with me, but allowing me to get some work done it's usually because they're requiring that my coworker/supervising manager a.k.a. their grandmother play with them. So being a work-from-home grandmother is damaging my mom's relationship with her grand kids as well. But that's her rant that she can choose to share with you another day.

Please don't misunderstand my true self. I am so cognitively blessed that I can work from home.  I get to attend the parties, school plays, lunch dates, etc.  I get to cuddle my children when they are sick and not worry about how many sick days I'm burning.  I get to wear my PJ's to work when some child had a terror-filled night of bad dreams and it meant no sleep for me either. And somehow I still draw a paycheck.  

I just fear that I'm doing it all wrong. The right-side of my brain ponders how much bigger that paycheck could be if I worked this job from rented office space.  Or from behind a closed door.  The left-side of my brain fears that my employing company would rather have a non-mommy represent their goods. Which translates to I'll be fired in 18-months and then I'll be a work-at-home mommy and my kids' scars will be erased.  Then there's the unidentified part of me who loves what I do.  The only change I want to see is an internal improvement on the age-old-struggle: how do we as moms and women breaking the glass ceiling manage to "have it all"?

So the struggle is real and there is only one thing I know as an absolute: this year will be the year that I take it one day at a time.  I will try to be more present in my children's lives.  I will try to have unplugged moments outside of "working hours".  I will work harder when I work and play harder when I play.  The Mr. and I have already talked about how much we love being together, yet we really need to start including the kids in our time more often. They deserve to grow up in a family setting; i.e. they need to feel included and valued and heard.  

In the meantime, if you have any advice or anecdotes of what works for you and what doesn't work for you, hit me up in the comments.  

Dear Emily: A Letter To Myself For The New Year

I was in Miami, Florida on New Year's Eve 1999 (partying to Prince's song, too) with a college roommate named Chrissy.  At midnight, she and I were actually slightly disappointed that the world's clocks, VCRs (remember those?), and ATMs didn't come to a complete stop at 1/1/00!  The next day we were also disappointed in Alabama's 35-34 loss to Michigan at the Fed Ex Orange Bowl.  

Fast forward 15 years and I hardly recognize the girl from that weekend.  She was young, careless, and fancy free.  (She also had an awful bob and shimmery crop tops.)  Today I have three children, crow's feet and bills to pay.  But all is not lost; just like that not-so-fateful night at the turn of the century, a new dawn arose and a new year presented endless possibilities.  In honor of this new year, I decided to follow the inspiration from one of the newest blogs I enjoy and write myself a letter to be reviewed 12 months from now.  

Dear Emily,  

Last year was a great year to be a Morris!  As a family we enjoyed vacations at the beach and Disney World.  We spend a weekend in Atlanta and Houma, LA. Bobby and you traveled with the Tide to the first and the last football game of the season, as well as a few in between. This coming year, too, we should travel as a family.  The memories we make will be ones to cherish forever.  But "as a family" are the key words.  These children are young for such a brief moment in time.  A resolution, of sorts, is to include the kids in many, many family events - dinners, shows, vacations, etc.  They need to always feel like integral parts of a whole set, rather than be "burdensome little people".

Emily, you have a great husband in Bobby.  Why do you need to be reminded? You cannot even put a name to all the ways he helps you with child raising, household chores, entertaining, etc.  Those times that you doubt he is still in love with you?  It could be that you don't love yourself like you should.  

On that note, you have a lot going for you.  You are compassionate, funny, empathetic, generous, and delightful...when you want to be.  You have to be a friend to have a friend.  You have to be a lover to have a lover.  You know the times when you feel doubtful, disappointed, scared, or simply unsure?  Gather yourself together and move forward.  Use your best qualities to lure out the goodness in others, including your husband and your children.  Model for them the kind of relationship you wish to have.

Emily, you were meant to be a mother.  You have the children you always dreamed you would have.  Perhaps life didn't exactly imitate art, but God makes no mistakes.  He didn't give you a strong-willed daughter by accident; He gave you the kind of offspring that requires patience, understanding, and creative discipline techniques.  He gave you sons with energy and imagination.  He gave you the family He designed for you.  This past year there were extreme highs and extreme lows in parenting.  The kids are at their best when they feel included, heard, seen, and loved.  The kids are at their worst when they are made to feel as if they are in the way.  Take the time to truly see life through their innocent eyes.  Again, model for them the best qualities you wish them to possess.  And always, always offer them the respect, grace, and mercy you long for in return.

Professionally it has been five years since you and your mom partnered up and formed this powerful micro-company that is SEE Jones, LLC.  Five years!  Like everything else there were good times and tough times in 2014.  Remember that just because you and your mom approach daily tasks from different perspectives doesn't make one version right and another wrong.  As a team, Emily and Carole can truly bring out the best in each other.  Her strengths are your shortcomings.  Together this coming year can be the biggest yet.  Who needs that silly gold rectangle?  Heinemann and HMH are where all the cool kids like to play!

Remember when you used to rock a bikini like no one's business?  36 is not too late to look your best.  So on a closing note, jump on the bandwagon and make the most popular of resolutions actually stick:  get healthy.  You have an arsenal of powerful weapons in the war against cellulite.  The best thing you can do is love yourself in a selfless way.  Take care of your body, mind, and spirit.  The insides will radiate outward and create happiness you can share.  In the words of Elle Woods: Exercise gives you endorphins.  Endorphins make you happy.  Happy people just don't shoot their husbands.  They just don't.  

In summary, 2014's best moments included the following:

• Working hard and seeing the tangible (sales) results.
• Exercising, running, and taking care of your body really worked when you worked at it.
• Your family like is most pleasant when you are an active, conscientious, Christian matriarch.

2014's worst moments which should be eradicated asap go a little like this:

• Yearning for the past only makes you regret things you cannot change.  Forgive yourself.  Forgive others.  Look forward.
• Don't yell and curse so much.  It takes away from your ability to listen and respond.
• Sugar, sweets, and Diet Pepsi are not your friend.  Do not believe their pleasantries.

With all my love for you, hopes and dreams for a great new year,

Am I A Missing Person?

Am I a missing person?  Well, only if I have actually been "missed", I guess!  Ha!  But seriously, 2 months have gone by.  In these past two months, my home computer died.  I was without any power source at all.  It's kinda hard to blog the paper-pencil way.  That's just journaling. 

In these past two months, my sweet oldest child finished his first year of Kindergarten.  It was a bittersweet day.  I look back to when he started school; it was our last day of being a family of four.  I was an emotional wreck!  But now the school year ended and it was emotional all over again.  Rob's kindergarten teacher set the bar so high for engaging, meaning-based learning.  This should be a warning to all his future teachers.  You have your work cut out for you.

In these past two months my daughter's personality has doubled -- tripled in size.  Is that possible?  She is such a spitfire.  I had the pleasure of meeting Taylor Swift when I was pregnant with C, and Swifty rubbed my belly.  Just last night I was joking with my sister-in-law that TS must have transplanted some of her individualism and spunk into my uterus!  Caroline loves "Ta'er Fwift" and demands that we listen to her music over and over in the car.

In these past two months my wee one has turned into a mobile 9-month old with six -- YES SIX -- teeth.  He is the sweetest, squishiest, happiest baby I have had the pleasure of raising.  More updates on him coming soon.

 

In these past two months Bobby and I have joined a pool, worked our rumps off at our jobs, done landscaping projects, enjoyed baseball season, traveled to Louisiana, and welcomed summer.

I will try to blog more often.  I would love to recreate our blogging relationship.  But in these past two months I have been living life to the fullest.  I have so much to share with all of you!

Stay tuned,

Irrational

Recently as we were settling all the kids down for bedtime, Rob started crying.  Well wimpering/whining is a better description. He claimed he couldn't sleep and was lonely in his room. This is noteworthy for the simple fact that he is the only kiddo who does go to bed easily; we usually put him to bed first, because he is frequently asking for sleep. Enter psychologist-wanna-be mama trying to figure out what's wrong...

Rob told me with complete sincerity that he feared he has watched Toy Story too many times. "What if all my toys come alive while I'm asleep?" he asked. Score points for me that I didn't burst into guttural laughter at this point--I could tell this kid was serious. So for the next ten minutes or so we discussed the fact that Toy Story is made up for our entertainment, but what if it could be true? Rob's toys -- just like Andy's -- would love him! All of his plastic dinosaurs would roar and scare away any bad guys. His stuffed astronaut would fly him to space if need be. His remote controlled Bigfoot would be hungry for a banana and would call Rob "Buddy". And last but not least, his Fisher Price samurai ninja castle would host the most amazing sword fighting competition ever, which Rob would enter and win.

Rob eventually slept that night after he and I put a new spin on his "fears".  Then the wheels in my head began to spin: Yes, Rob may have watched Toy Story too many times and felt his room was now a scary, dangerous place; but I grew up thinking all the worlds' problems could be solved in 30 minutes like the Huxtables (The Cosby Show), if you were either pretty enough or conniving enough you could have whatever you wanted (Beverly Hills, 90210 -- the original, not the remake) and all you really need in life is a gaggle of best F*R*I*E*N*D*S. Okay, the latter is true.  Nevertheless, I was always keen enough to know these were Hollywood made-for-screen happy endings.  So my seemingly irrational fear has always been that I and the life I live would not add up to some ideal portrayed by actors. 

I have said it before and will continue to admit I am a worrier. Sure, I may be closer to midlife than ever before, but I still have plenty of dreams and goals for the future.  On my list are an array of personal crusades, monetary dreams, hopes and wishes for my kids, materialistic desires, and plans for advancement. The future is scary. What if some unforeseen obstacle or foe comes alive when I least expect it and crushes everything I'm attempting? It's okay to worry or fear the outcome when it motivates you to think outside the box, make a change to your current efforts, or ask for help from a trusted source. 

Have you ever called someone in the middle of a fit "irrational"? I'm pretty sure if yes, you didn't relieve any of their pain.  When you are consumed with such inner turmoil, you likely lose the ability to think clearly in the moment.  Maybe others will think you are losing it. But hopefully you can take a moment -- like I did with Rob -- and entertain your fears. Is the worst case scenario as bad as it was once thought to be? Perhaps going through all of the what ifs will help you sleep better at night, too. Here would be the time to make any changes or preparations for a happier outcome. There is nothing like a calmer heart to relax the soul.

Thoughts on a Fine Friday Morning

I have seen the following stream-of-consciousness-inspired blog post in a couple of places, and I felt inspired.  I am not sure who originated the idea, so I'll simply say, this is a "borrowed" format.

Here's a glimpse into Mama Morris's life on this fine Friday Morning:

Needing to finish processing the recurring pile of laundry, mop the kitchen floor, and have newborn photos printed and framed.

Reading Rediscovering Catholicism by Matthew Kelly.  I was supposed to be reading this with the Young Families Group at my church, but I have missed the past two meetings.  I hope to make it back next Wednesday night, because I am actually enjoying this book on many levels!  Inspiring...

Hoping the next 28 days pass quickly because I get to see Lorie and Shane again!  We are taking our annual pilgrimage to Baton Rouge again for the Bama-LSU game.  Two years ago when we played in Death Valley and lost, I swore I would never go back.  But although times change, old habits don't!  Psst! It's also going to be the first time I'll leave the baby overnight, so I'm still conflicted about this trip in my heart.  Nevertheless, we're going...

Watching this week's episodes of the Morris Family's can't-live-without shows: Grey's Anatomy, Castle, Private Practice, Parenthood, Dancing With The Stars and Glee. Thank goodness for DVR or I'd miss all prime time TV. Our evenings are definitely full of everything but TV!   (And by the way, what's up with The New Normal?  It thumbs its nose at all the political and socioeconomic stereotypes, yet I can't get enough.)

Sleeping whenever I can.  William is doing well most nights; we are usually down to one feeding a night around 2:00 AM.  But then there are nights like last night when he was up at 1 and again at 4.  Couple that with Caroline who all but refuses to sleep a full night and it makes for a sleepy mama!

Wearing crazy clothes right now!  My maternity pants are too big, but my pre-baby jeans are still just a little small.  What's a girl to do?  I have bought just a couple of one-size-bigger pants 'cuz naked is never an option.  But I refuse to settle.  I will get my body back eventually and the healthy way.

Feeling pain just by wiggling my toes.  I'm on Day 5 of Jillian Michaels' 30-Day Shred, and my legs pretty much feel shredded!  I love feeling sore, though, because I am reminded that I'm changing my body.

Spending time with Bobby and the kids as a family of 5 whenever we can (and that's not often right now).  We are so busy -- life is really hectic right now.  Bobby is out of the house 3 nights a week with his commitment to coach little-league football.  Rob and Caroline are so active and the baby is so needy that we really have to force ourselves to stop and come together.

Listening to Miranda Lambert's Four The Record.  I'm going to her concert on Saturday night and I need to brush up on the lyrics of her newest songs.  I'm notorious for not knowing the lyrics to songs I claim to love!

Enjoying these crisp fall mornings and wishing every. single. one could start with a pumpkin spice latte!

Dining out with Bobby soon--I hope.  He owes me an anniversary dinner!  We celebrated 9 years yesterday at a football field.

Dating my husband when I can.  We had a blast a few weekends ago when just the 2 of us picked up and headed to Tuscaloosa for a non-conference football game.  I love chances to reconnect with him.

Daydreaming about taking the kids to the Gaylord Opryland Hotel during this Christmas season.  I know Disney needs to wait a few more years, so now this has become my next-best-thing.  Are you hearing me, Bobby?

Wondering what the future holds...I have some pretty deep thoughts about my children, my marriage, life, religion, politics and the state of the nation.  Sometimes it is just nice to focus on mindless things like what I've discussed above.  But with faith and perseverance, the deeper subjects will work themselves out.  I have to believe that.

So long for now...

The First Days

It's very hard to believe, but William is 2 weeks old today.  It truly feels like yesterday that I was still pregnant; the night before my induction Bobby had football practice so the (two) kids and ate dinner at my mom's.  I was so tired -- tired of getting up to go to the bathroom multiple times per night; tired of my crazy, pregnancy/hormone dreams making me sleep restlessly; tired of not being able to see my toes; tired of my maternity clothes.  Boy, I only thought I knew tired!

The first days are the hardest whether you have one child, two, three, or any combination of a new family.  The first days are full of uncertainty, unrest, and unending diaper changes and feedings.  For Bobby and me, our first days as William's parents were all of that and more; we were also concerned about how he entered the world so scarily full of needs.  However, 1 Samuel 1:27 says "For this child I prayed, and the LORD has granted me my petition that I made to him."  In the first days, so many people were praying for William, for the nurses and doctors who were looking after him, and for Bobby and me who were left with more questions than answers, that those days seem to have passed in the blink of an eye.  I cannot believe two weeks have already passed.  Here is an update of all we have learned and all that we know.

First of all the health issue:  We have seen the pediatrician twice now -- shortly after coming home and again today for his 2-week checkup.  Both times Will has received a clean bill of health and we have been told to go home and "spoil him rotten."  We saw a wonderful cardiologist, Dr. Robb Romp at UAB who will be Will's cardiologist for as long as he needs one.  What happened at birth is called Supraventricular tachycardia (SVT) -- a condition which causes the heart to beat very quickly (200-300 beats/minute) for an extended period of time. It is occurs in 1 of 250-1000 kids.  Read more about it here or here.  Basically, the heart has its own built-in pacemaker, and when the electrodes go haywire, the heart beats faster and faster until it becomes unable to correctly oxygenate blood and distribute it to the rest of the body.  Depending on who you ask, most people will tell you this is not a life-threatening disorder, but it can have very serious health ramifications if left untreated. 

The only way to accurately diagnose SVT is to look at a heart strip from an EKG in the moment.  Unfortunately "in the moment" for Will meant immediately after birth; because the nurses were more concerned about stabilizing him than then EKG strips, the cardiologist cannot say with absolute certainty that Will even has SVT.  But treating it is better than taking the risk of not treating it.  Will must take a BETA blocker for up to a year, or until Dr. Romp is absolutely confident he has outgrown this condition -- almost all patients simply outgrow SVT and never have episodes again.

Next, the new-mommy concerns:  Hmm..where to begin?  I am trying to nurse Will.  After all, "the breast is best" according to the medical society.  But if you want to be a successful breastfeeding duo, there are assumptions for success -- avoid use of a pacifier or any kind of bottles for up to the first month if possible.  Try to nurse the baby within the first hour of birth if possible.  Notice a trend here?  The cards are stacked against me here.  NICU babies are bottle fed and plugged with pacis.  Again, I'm not blaming anyone for negligent care; rather I'm simply bemoaning the fact that my sweet little challenging baby comes with even more built-in obstacles.

Will wants to nurse every 2 hours or so and he has a hard time getting full at each feeding.  This is wrecking havoc on my, um, chest.  But then there is a part of me when he is snuggled up and latched on which just smells the top of his head and becomes misty-eyed at the realization that this day, this moment, will never be replicated with another child down the road.  I lavish each moment, good, bad, or sad because I want to remember everything.

This morning I heard the most alarming thing from my backseat...Caroline: "I'm gonna teach Willwem to eat cheerios."  Me: "Nooooooo!"  I was praying my sweet girl didn't stick a cheerio in the baby's mouth.  Then I had a good laugh.  All she knows is that she is someone's big sister now.  She is a little confused about her role in the world right now.  She wants to put on pull-ups, she has sucked his paci, and she wants to put him in her baby stroller.  Again, I frequently find my stress levels above-normal, but I also beg myself to find the humor, feel the compassion, and display the tripled love for the kids.  They, too, should remember these first days with nothing less than smiles.

I'm so tired right now.  I constantly feel like my eyes are glassing over.  I miss my pre-pregnancy GAP skinny jeans, and I still feel guilty about enjoying a cool, occasional adult beverage.  But I know that those problems are temporary, as is this entire infancy.  I also know that God always knew the Morris family would include at least (and hopefully no more than) five members. 

The first days have been sleep deprived, concen overloaded, and worrysome.  But the first days lead to the best days and I am so thankful that we have the future at our doorstep.  Thank you, again, to everyone who has sent thoughts and prayers our way.  Stay tuned...like my Aunt Joyce joked once while I was pregnant with Will "...and then there were three!"