The One Good Thing In January

January sucks.


There's just nothing for it. The news reported the other day that psychiatrists have declared that this week is officially the most depressing week of the year. Your Christmas bills are all here (and you're regretting them.) Your New Year's Resolutions have resolved as failures. And, it seems like winter will never end.


I believe it.


So, in an effort to thwart the blahs, I made-over my blog. (BTW, I lost my blog list, so if you fell off my list, it's because I couldn't remember your URL-- send it and I'll get it fixed.)


The one good thing that has ever happened to me in January turns 6 years old tomorrow.


Six years ago tonight, I was the mother of two, with a wiggly thing in my belly. I was being induced the next day, so we dropped the kids off at my mother's and came home to get one last good night's sleep.


Yeah, right.


By the time all of the finishing touches were complete, it was well after midnight before we went to bed. I slept for an hour or two, then woke up and realized I could hear something that wasn't quite right. That something turned out to be a drip. From our waterbed. Onto the carpet. (No, my water DIDN'T break-- the BED did.)


Goodbye good night's sleep.


The rest of the night was full of frozen hoses, holes burned in carpet (trying to defrost said hoses), wet carpet, and a sad hour or so spent trying to sleep in Mike's toddler bed. Morning came way too soon.


They started me at 7:00 and Doug was born a little after 1 p.m. I was exhausted-- as much from the bad night as from the labor-- but all of that disappeared when they put my darling little son into my arms.


Doug has been such a blessing for me. He was an easy, contented baby. His big eyes and wonderful smile always warm my heart. He has been my little buddy since his brother and sister went to school-- I don't know what I'll do when he starts first grade!


More than all of that, Doug is a wonderful juxtaposition of complimentary qualities. He is a relentless tease-- he uses considerable energy to carry out practical jokes on people. And yet, he can turn around and show a deep side and out of the blue ask, "Was it part of Jesus' plan to hang on the cross, or did it just happen to Him?" He loves to be wild and crazy with the big boys, and yet he has a fan club of little kids who love him because he always includes them in his play. He yells "chicka-chicka-wah-wah" in the microphone after his talk in primary, but he says prayers that reduce me to tears.


Doug is unpredictable, crazy, sweet, tender, smart and kind.


Happy birthday, Little Man. You are definitely my Sunbeam in this frozen hell we call January. Thank you for always melting away my icicles...