Happy Birthday to my big brother Adam! Today he turns (cough, cough) 29? Or maybe the Big 3-0? However old he is, ‘cuz I’m not tellin’, happy birthday to the best big brudder anywhere. This photo was taken at a lunch at Lazlos restaurant celebrating Livia’s baptism. We all look happy because we all were happy. Nothing says Smile! like a glass of Lazlos best ale and the most amazing baby ever to grace this planet.
Speaking of Lazlos… Thanks to Charity for snapping this moment from dinner last Friday. Livia looks so funny sitting between Jeremy and me at the table. She’s contentedly gnawing away at a spoon. Good times.
When news of this case first broke, I purposefully tuned it out. For some reason, though, I have read every local newspaper article on the case in court. And every time I read an article I felt brokenhearted over the senseless death of this little boy, outraged by the behaviors of his mother, and angered by the ramifications of meth use. I keep looking for a way to temper my frustration, but find none. Christian’s death was horrendous, sad and despicable — and I’m not certain his life was any better considering the scrupulousness of his caretakers.
I want to rant and rave. I wonder what is wrong with these people and how a mother could trap her toddler in a room alone for two days. I want to lock her in a room without food, left in her own excrement, kept away from all human touch and see how she benefits from such treatment. I want to burn up all the meth labs in Lincoln, Nebraska, and create some sort of magic pill to cure all those already addicted.
I want to have compassion. I want to heal Brandy Blair from the tremendous pain she must be experiencing. I want to give her some guidance, share a meal, show some love for this mama, only 23 years old. I want to bring Christian back and give him a life full of mudpies and cuddles, laughter and popsicles.
I am not in a position to carry out justice in this case. And I am not in a position to heal, redeem or raise the dead. There is righteous anger — and only God can demonstrate it absolutely fairly. There is a Redeemer, too. One who can give purpose, joy, restoration to a convicted killer. And you know what He can do as well? Raise the dead to new life. I find great comfort in trusting a God who can perfectly deal justice while perfectly redeeming the humble. Thank you, Jesus Christ.
Still, I weep for Christian.
Here we go, folks. The Oscar nominations were announced this morning and it looks like I either need to go to the movies a lot more or I should just forget about the whole thing. I haven’t seen any of the Best Picture nominees, and yes, my head is hanging low in shame. For a complete listing of nominations, go here.
For those of you who have seen The Aviator, is it really all that good? Eleven nominations… Reminds me of Return of the King from last year, which of course I thought was deserving of every Oscar it won.
One more thing. I’m wondering how nominations work for Best Music (Song). I understand it has to be a new, original piece of music, but honestly, it seems like Andrew Lloyd Weber whipped out “Learn to Be Lonely” just to win an Oscar. The moment I heard the buzz about ALW’s new song and how Minnie Driver sang it and how it was played on Phantom’s credits, well, I knew it was fodder for the Oscars. Bleh.
I look at this picture and think, God is good! Jeremy and I waited to be parents. Mom and Dad waited to be grandparents. And here we are today, happily raising one Livia Tredway, praising God for allowing us this privilege.
**Thanks, Dad, for snapping this photo!
I’m wondering where my Extroverted self has gone. I still see traces of it when I go next door for supper or when I talk to friends at church. I still get kind of wound-up and energized after those times. But who is this new Rebecca, the one who mutters to herself and oftentimes wonders how long she has been carrying on an internal dialogue and not speaking out loud once, thereby unintentionally damaging the verbal development of her firstborn? Who is this girl who is completely wiped out by 9:30pm even though she got eight hours of sleep the night before and spent most day at home with her child? Who is this wife who, after dining and watching Alias with close buddies, runs home to the computer, doesn’t want to talk much with her dear husband, and deeply cherishes her quiet, alone time? Where, oh where, has my E gone?
Maybe I’m just tired. Maybe I’m worn out by this ball of anxiety sitting deep within my chest. Maybe I’m spending too much time at home alone, not stirring the creative juices by interacting with the outside world. The problem is, even when I do get out, I’m greatly distracted by mommy/caretaking responsibilities. After asking two questions during Alias about missed nitty-gritty details, I shut up. Feeding Livia her bedtime bottle and keeping up with the specifics in plotline were just too much for me to handle, I guess. Julie, the friend joined for the tv show, says all the multitasking wears you out. I believe her. She has two girls under two years of age and her life is one big multitasking job.
For now I will let E rest a bit and attempt to embrace my inner I. Goodnight, my dear Blogland. I apologize for the recent one paragraph posts and simple photographs. It’s all my I self can handle right now.
Sorry if you ever wished for *normal* children. Here’s hoping a birthday wish for normal grandkids turns out better! We love you!!!
I heard a snippet of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech this morning on Good Morning America. I was moved by the small clip of American children, from various locations, reciting the speech. It prompted me to find an audio mp3 of the address as well as a written version. Listen to it today if you can.
Last night in the Tredway living room, immediately following Dr. Pepper commercial featuring the song, “I Would Do Anything For Love”:
R: Whatever happened to Meat Ball?
J: Who?
R: Meat Ball.
J: You mean Meat Loaf?
R: Yeah.
[hilarious laughter ensues]
