Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing—Benjamin Franklin

Rock-a-bye baby... like a HURRICANE!!

Little man has had an exceptionally difficult time sleeping lately, for the last few months really. He usually wakes up around 2:00am or 3:00am, sometimes screaming/flailing, sometimes crying, sometimes happy as a lark and singing to himself. He then stays up for an hour or two and battles it out with me as to whether or not he will actually go back to bed. Translation: both Little and I are borderline crazy sleep deprived lunatics these days. We've tried everything under the sun, so any suggestions on how to remedy this would be much appreciated. 
We went up to my sister's house tonight to visit them and my mom (who is visiting for a while, hooray!) and help get their house ready for the realtor, so we were running around all day. We were dying of tired to begin with so apparently a busy day did my poor little monster in. When we finally called a cease-fire on the Windex and hung up our mops, I was challenged to a round of Guitar Hero. So fun. Loud, banging, rock-songs-full-blast fun. In the midst of this--after dancing like crazy--Little found his way to the floor right in front of the drum set and to the calming sounds of Aerosmith was lulled to sleep. He slept on for about an hour while we (no less noisily) kept rocking out.

We've decided instead of singing lullabies at bedtime, from now on it's 80's rock ballads all the way. 

Kung Fu fighting

Two things I think are worthy of note: One, Bryce and I had a shadow fight the other day. Mostly our shadows were strangely huge on the wall and suddenly it occurred to me that my shadow could perfectly karate chop his... so the fight began. I think Bryce's shadow won.
Two, in helping get Bryce ready for all his interviews I've been asking him all the probing questions and what not. He's had some pretty good answers for most of them, but oddly enough the one that stumped him was "Tell me about a time when you failed at something." It took my dear husband three full days to think of an answer (and even then it was a lame one). Am I wrong that most people can think of at least three possibly more like 300 times they have failed right off the top of their heads? I certainly can. Welcome to life with Bryce.  

By small and chigger things are great things brought to pass

Or how God shows his love through chigger babies

The story begins on a lovely August day while we were having a mountain adventure. It was a fun filled day all-told: good company, excellent views, flora, fauna, a swimming hole... who could ask for more out of a hike? However, not so fantastic are the hitchhikers who came home with us.
Let me preface this by saying that I hate chigger babies. And not just hate. I loath them with all the fiery purple passion in my little being. This hatred has been completely unfounded (and admittedly still irrational), but let me just put it out there that any species where the babies pose the threat doesn't get my vote.
And so... on with the story. When we got home that night we put Little right to bed, so when I found our little monstrous friends--while sitting on the bed no less--I was freaking out. Completely irrational. How many are there? Where are they hiding?  What dreaded diseases could I/my family now have? Had I put my baby to sleep in a bed of chigger babies? Had they already carried him away to eat him? I wish I could say that my thoughts hadn't gotten that far, but that wasn't far off. I told Heavenly Father that I knew it was a silly thing to ask, but that I needed to know what to do about the stinking chigger babies and how to calm down. Immediately I felt better and I knew what to do. Sadly it required waking up Little and another half hour or so of insuring no chigger babies were left unsmooshed, but we escaped the experience with only one chigger bite (thankfully on me, not Little). Anyway... it made me think just how much Heavenly Father loves me and even more, how well He knows me. Anyone would know I needed help if it was some big ordeal, but who needs rescuing from small insects? To the average person, chigger babies are not the end of the world. I wasn't bleeding by the side of the road. The proof is in the small things. The fact that He loves me enough to give me comfort when the only person it is a big deal to is me. Isn't that a lovely thought? 

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