the finished product.

slowly, slowly.

I've been spending my days working on my icon of St. Michael over the last two weeks. In doing this I've learned many things--one of which is that the mothering/working ratio is about 1 hour/20 minutes. It's been slow, but it's been good. Here's a picture from yesterday, but the progress I made today (I think) made him really start to come alive. I forgot to take a picture before leaving the church this afternoon, so I'll have to post another tomorrow. My little trooper turned 5 months old last week, and cut his first tooth. He's been such a good sport about being carted off to church and spending his days away from home. *sigh* It's just going so fast! I love to watch him grow and change, but every now and then I'm reminded of how quickly his infancy is vanishing, and how once it's gone I'll never be able to have it back again. It's the order of life, I know...but I sometimes wish I could just grab snippets of time and keep them in my back pocket to revisit them in a few years.

I am making an icon of St. Michael the Archangel.

Slowly, but surely, that is. Here's a picture of my work yesterday: And today: Also, my self-esteem boost for this week was when a nice old man told me that I looked just like Rose MacGowan. I was only slightly offended (or just creeped out) when I googled her and found mostly nude pictures. After I posted about Ambrose's delay in rolling, he's started doing all the time, especially during diaper changes. Do you think he will thank me for this picture later in life? I just love those rolls!! A few pictures...:-)

the no-name post.

Well, Ambrose and I have spent the majority of the day thus far nursing. My diagnosis is that he's probably teething, something we've seen coming for a long time now (we call him the drool monster. it's gross.). This would also explain the runny nose and perpetual whining, and the three loads of laundry that sit unfolded next to me. (has anyone figured out how to do this one-handed??) Speaking of the drool monster, he's getting quite the collection of fat rolls--probably more after today. He weighs 16 1/2 lbs. He's rolled back-to-tummy several times--about a month ago, and hasn't done it since. He's more focused on grabbing anything in my hands, banging on the keyboard and chewing on everything. It's official. I am in love with him. Oh, and this picture is from a few weeks ago, with my sisters Hope (left) and Emma (right). They found this little red baseball cap for Ambrose and insisted not only that he wear it, but that it be referred to by it's full name each time it was referenced: the super-cute red hat. (i.e. "where is his super cute red hat?" "oh no, he dropped his super cute red hat!" and so on...)

I'm having a lazy day.

I woke up early on this fine spring morning not to find sunshine streaming through my bedroom window, but to find SNOW covering the ground and pouring from the sky. I went back to bed. My ambitions for the day include, but are not limited to, nothing. That said, our Easter celebration was delightful. We had "thanksgiving dinner" at my in-laws at noon, and, since my grandparents are getting too old to cook (but not too old to still insist on having Easter dinner at their house), we concluded the day with pizza with my family. Your photographic update: father and son.

on grief.

I ran accross this icon of The Lamentation over Jesus' death, in which Mary is cradling her Son's head in sorrow. While studying it, I recalled a sobering, stunningly beautiful Ruthinian hymn we sang in church a few weeks ago. The Grieving Mother The grieving mother stood beneath the cross Weeping in sorrow, tearfully she prayed: O Son, my Son, innocent and faultless Why must You suffer this bitter passion On the Cross? Bitter tears are falling near Your Holy body O my child, I raised You long before these enemies Now as I lose You, while I weep before You O my Son, You leave me And Your life I will no longer see. Surely the Mother of God knows the true cost of our salvation more deeply than we can ever hope to.