Mirror, mirror on the wall

Abby was entertained by this game of "Who's that cute baby in the mirror?" for about 8 minutes, until the excitement overcame her and she spit up all over herself (and, concurrently, the cute baby in the mirror as well). We'll try again tomorrow, only maybe not on a full belly.

Got Giggles?

Turkey for you, turkey for me...

"Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow." ~ James 1:17

There's so much to be thankful for this year -- our dear little Abby (of course), the sale of our home, Justin's new job, a healthy pregnancy with a very happy ending, a smooth transition into a new area, and so many more blessings I'm certain I've left out. It is no coincidence that every good thing that came our way this year was covered in prayer!

Some Thanksgiving vacation highlights:We were able to spend some time with our old friends back in Kennesaw and enjoy delicious burritos during Fisherpalooza at Willy's...

We finally got to meet my cousin's adorable baby Charlie...

A visit from the Seabolts gave us all the opportunity to try to raise the level of Lake Lanier by heaving big rocks into it...

Abby started rolling over...

And of course, the feast!

Thanks to all the family and friends who made our first trip back such a great time!

A flippin' good time

On mornings when we find ourselves with a little extra time on our hands, I like to take advantage of Justin's superior pancake-making skills and insist that he make breakfast. (Girls like guys with skills, ya know.)

I seem to be somewhat deficient in the area of pancake-flipping, but Justin's a pro, pouring batter and knowing just when to turn them as if he's been doing this all his life...which, come to find out, he has. This morning he set a new standard in breakfast batter with a skill that we're sure will entertain Abby when she gets a little older. But for now, he'll have to settle for the big smile on my face that results from seeing my family's initials spelled out in certified organic whole wheat pancake batter.

When all the batter had been poured, we sat down to a stack of what will henceforth be known as boring round pancakes, one golden brown mandolin, a mickey mouse, and some pretty impressive pancake letters. What a delicious way to start the day!

s.h.m.i.l.y.

I recall reading a story one time about this old couple who left notes for each other hidden all over their house. When one person found a note, it was their turn to hide a note for the other person, and so on. This went on for the more than 50 years of their marriage, with notes turning up in places as random and hard-to-find as the bottom of a delicious casserole and the last square of a roll of toilet paper (imagine the work that went into that one!). The note was always the same, reading simply, "Shmily." Years went by before this couples' children understood that "Shimly" stood for See How Much I Love You.

Well, Abby's been especially smiley lately, and every time I see this big grin on her face, I can't help but think to myself, "see how much I love you!"

It's a warm fuzzy feeling, and I like it.

When cousins are two of a kind...

My cousin Julia gave birth to Abby's second cousin Charlie a month after our little girl entered the world. That's Abby above, on the left, and little Charlie on the right. Is it just me, or is there a family resemblance there?

She'd be a great picker if her fingers weren't so small

Abby got her first music lesson from Justin Sunday night after the guitars got unpacked. When she got bored with this he put away the acoustic and played a few riffs on the electric for her. She's a big fan of the amp, but seems mildly bothered that it has the potential to make more noise than her.

A fairly pointless post

It's not that nothing exciting has happened to write about recently. It's just that so many exciting things have happened, between visits from the grandparents and Abby being...well, a baby, that I'm taking a pass this week. In lieu of a humorous or meaningful blog entry, please enjoy the following Pictures of Abby Being Cute:

Click any of the links to the right under Fisher Family Album to see more...

You can't always get what you want

I anticipate few people will comment on this blog entry. Or if they do, it will be my family asking me to please put more flattering pictures of Abby online than the ones above. Because this has nothing to do with something cute our daughter did, or how adorable she is, or what an adventure these last two months has been. No, this is about what I've learned about myself and my heart in my short time as a parent. It's about sin and selfishness and total depravity. Abigail is an excellent teacher, often instructing by example, and continually revealing layers of my heart that are sorely in need of cleansing.

My daughter is an excellent whiner. At its most tolerable, her crying is a pitiful whimper--a half-hearted attempt at getting our attention and getting her way. But at its worst, her wailing starts at a decibel level that should be reserved for rock concerts and shuttle launches and works itself into a high-pitched scream that I'm convinced only dogs can hear, climbing like an F-16 until it reaches its pinnacle, at which point our screaming daughter either pauses to take a breath before beginning again, or simply passes out from the effort and falls into a deep slumber.

Here she has everything she needs--shelter, nourishment--and quite a few things that she wants--warmth, love, attention--and yet she will drive herself mad trying to get her way. It's painful to watch her act this way, and only partly because it's hard to deal with. No, what bothers me most as I watch my precious daughter whine and cry and flail in a desperate attempt to have things go her way is wondering how very much like her I must seem to my Creator.

How often have I, in a fit of selfishness, demanded that God do something, and do it now? My presumption, of course, is that I know what's best for me, and that the sovereign Lord needs to be reminded that I'm waiting for Him to act. Forgetting that He does, in fact, know the plans He has for me and that His ways are higher than my ways, I lay there kicking and screaming, demanding to be appeased. Never mind that He has given me the one thing I need most, the thing that is entirely out of my reach, in calling me to Himself and atoning for my sins. No, I want something more--more comfort, more stability, more blessing, more freedom, more of what the world says I need to be happy. His grace, I'm telling Him, are simply not enough.

And what about when I'm content? What about when I realize Christ is sufficient and respond with prayers of thanksgiving? I am reminded then that even my goodness separates me from God. For all of my "righteous deeds" are filthy rags to the God of Heaven. His is a standard I can't meet, a perfection I can't attain, a holiness I'll never draw near to. Only Christ can, and only by faith can I have a place in that kingdom.

So what hope is there for me, or for my daughter? She was born a sinner into a sinful world, to two sinful parents who will fail her countless times as she grows up. The outlook seems pretty gloomy. We'll do our best to provide for her--we'll feed her, we'll keep a roof over her head, we'll make sure her basic needs are met. But I'm realizing that the best thing--the only important thing, really--that we can do for her is point her to her need for a Savior. To help her understand that she, like all of us, has sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. That her heart must be changed before she can be fit for heaven, and that it is God who does the changing. That there is nothing she can do to make God love her more or less than He already does. That His grace is sufficient. And I can stop kicking and screaming, and start living like I believe that.

What is thy only comfort in life and death?
"That I with body and soul, both in life and death, am not my own, but belong unto my faithful Saviour Jesus Christ; who, with his precious blood, has fully satisfied for all my sins, and delivered me from all the power of the devil; and so preserves me that without the will of my heavenly Father, not a hair can fall from my head; yea, that all things must be subservient to my salvation, and therefore, by his Holy Spirit, He also assures me of eternal life, and makes me sincerely willing and ready, henceforth, to live unto him."
-- Heidelberg Catechism, question 1

Off to see the Wizard...

Abby attended her first costume party on Saturday, a Little Monsters Bash thrown by her friend Annabelle's mom.

We had searched high and low for just the right costume and had ruled out the standard newborn ensembles upon realizing that our daughter would not tolerate the headpieces associated with being a pumpkin, a pea pod, a banana or a hot dog. Since it seems that most Halloween costumes don't come in her size anyway, we went so far as to entertain the idea of a pet costume, but alas, found nothing quite right for our baby girl. (And anyway, the idea of dressing her as a prisoner or a fire hydrant just seemed...well....wrong.)

So off I went to the local fabric store to perpetuate the myth that stay-at-home moms have plenty of free time. I came home armed with red glitter paint, blue gingham and some teeny tiny ric rac--our daughter was just a few stitches away from being the most adorable little Dorothy ever.

Not bad for my first costume-making endeavor, if I do say so myself. Abby seemed pleased with it. Well, at least she didn't seem annoyed with it. She didn't spit up on it, which at this point is probably as close as I'll get to "Thanks mom! What a great costume!"