Assuming custodial responsibility

A while ago it seemed like everyone was talking about the book "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilberts. So, lemming that I am, I bought the book and read it to see what all the hype was about. For those of you who haven't read it. the basic premise is Elizabeth Gilbert's search for meaning and happiness by traveling to and living in Italy, India, and Indonesia. I totally recommend reading it; I don't necessarily agree with everything she says or does, but I think some of her conclusions about life and spirituality are really eye-opening and accurate.
Anyways, the reason I brought this up is because I was scanning my bookshelf for a quick pick to read while blowdrying my hair and I grabbed "Eat, Pray, Love". I just flipped it open to somewhere in the middle and started reading. Over the last few days I have read some here and there and I came across this section about prayer and it really stood out to me. It's kind of a big chunk, so I apologize in advance for the length.
"My prayers are becoming more deliberate and specific. It has occured to me that it's not much use to send prayers out to the universe that are lazy. Tired, confused and bored, my prayers sounded the same. I remember kneeling down one morning, touching my forehead to the floor and muttering to my creator, 'Oh, I dunno what I need . . . but you must have some ideas . . . so just do something about it, would you?'
And I'm sorry, but that's a little lame. You can imagine God regarding that prayer with an arched eyebrow, and sending back this message: 'Call me again when you decide to get serious about this.'
Of course God knows what I need. The question is - do I know? Casting yourself at God's feet in desperation is all well and good - heaven knows, I've done it plenty of times myself - but ultimately you are likely to get more out of the experience if you can take some action on your end.
Prayer is a relationship; half the job is mine. If I want transformation, but can't even be bothered to articulate what, exactly, I'm aiming for, how will it ever occur? Half the benefit of prayer is in the asking itself, in the offering of a clearly posed and well-considered intention. If you don't have this, all your pleas and desires are boneless, floppy, inert; they swirl at your feet in a cold fog and never lift. So now I take the time every morning to search myself for specificity about what I am truly asking for. What worked yesterday doesn't always work today. Prayers can become stale and drone into the boring and familiar if you let your attention stagnate. In making an effort to stay alert, I am assuming custodial responsibility for the maintenance of my own soul."
WOW! I think she hit the nail right on the head when it comes to prayer and the type of relationship we ought to have with God. I know I have been guilty of doing the same prayer morning, noon and night; "thanks for this day, thanks for our family, bless the food, etc." But the most meaningful prayers are those when I take the time to think it out and to speak to God as though He were right next to me. One of the strongest impressions I have from growing up is kneeling as a family for prayer at the table or at night. My dad would always call on someone to pray and we kids would always groan LOUDLY when he called on my mom because she always said the LONGEST prayers. But the reason her prayers were so long is because she was having a conversation with God; she talked to Him like she talked to us. She prayed for each member of our family individually and specifically. It drove me crazy then, but it is one of my most precious memories now. I hope that I can continue to cultivate my personal relationship with God and "assume cutodial responsibility for the maintenance of my own soul".

A clean freak is born

Today I got in the mood to clean. I don't know why, but once I started I just kept on going and couldn't stop. And it wasn't just surface cleaning either; I wiped out cupboards, reorganized closets and did serious de-junking. I filled two garbage bags of junk. It amazed me how much stuff accumulates over time. I was going through my drawers and closet and realized how many clothes I have held on to, not because I am really ever going to wear them again, but for sentimental reasons. Like my old high school cheerleading sweatshirt. It's not like I'm going to throw it on and go out for the day, but for some reason I just couldn't get rid of it. But today I bit the bullet and threw it in the DI pile. I also finally got rid of my last pairs of size 2 jeans. I have accepted that I will more than likely never be that size again and if by some miracle I ever do, those clothes will probably be years out of style! The only clothes I am holding onto are my high-school dance dresses. I just can't get rid of those, there are so many memories and I can't just DI something that my mom put so much work into. I am trying to figure out a way to store them so they aren't just hanging in my closet. Any suggestions?
In this whole process I have discovered that I am becoming an organization freak. I get really happy when everything has a place and is in its place. I am enamored with clear plastic tubs that I can organize everything into and see all stacked up in a closet or on a shelf. I have found a new store that I can't wait to visit (it's a little out of the way so I can't just go a whim); The Container Store. It is clear plastic storage heaven! All of this organization excitement is really quite weird for me; especially if you knew me in high school and ever saw my room. Well, "saw" isn't the best word, there wasn't much to see besides the layers of clothes, books and everything else that was possible to throw on the floor. How much time changes things!

Family Fun

We got into the spirit of Easter today and did some egg dying (which Jeremy and I hadn't done for YEARS, so we were pretty excited). I gave Kadin 3 or 4 eggs to do himself and showed him how to dip them in the colors and how they would turn the color of the water, etc. Then he took over and decided that they all needed to go on the pink bowl. So he had some pretty gross colored eggs. They didn't make it to the final photo shoot because he wasn't too big on the "gentle" part of dealing with eggs.

After Kadin was done, Jeremy and I did some more "advanced" eggs. We tried to do some two tone dips and I put some stickers on mine to make designs. Jeremy put rubber bands on one and tried to make stripes, but they kept slipping off. All in all, it was pretty fun to do

After the egg dying, Kadin and Jeremy had some manly bonding with the toy light sabers that Kadin found in our study closet the other day. It was pretty funny watching the two of them duel! However, I have to say the funniest part was when Kadin lifted up his arms to give Jeremy a mighty whack and I realized that his pants were slowly sliding down to his knees. Apparently a moist diaper and serious exertion aren't a good match! Serious plumber's crack!

sore bums and strange sensations

Poor Kadin has had a rough couple of days. About Wednesday he started to have a runny nose and it has gotten worse over the past few days and he's gotten a cough from the drainage from his nose to his throat. Because of the constant sniffing and coughing he m hoasn't really slept well (which means we haven't slept well), either at night or at nap time. Then today when I went to get him up from his nap he was sitting in his crib looking quite forlorn. I asked him how he was doing and he pointed to his diaper and said "Owie." When I put him on the changing table to change his diaper, I could see the "owie" without even having to take his diaper off. He had BAD diaper rash all over his "ha-ha" and bottom and creeping down his legs. Poor little man; he screamed all through me wiping him off and rightfully so. I think I would scream if my tender parts were that raw. I had one old diaper from before we changed over to Pull-ups, so I put that on him because the leg portions are softer than the Pull-ups. Life was great for the next couple hours and then Kadin came over and sat on my lap. Strangely, when he got up to run around again, there was a huge wet spot on my leg. Either the old diaper is not quite as absorbent as the new Pull-ups or the inch thick layer of diaper cream I put on his bottom impeded it's pee-pee holding power. Either way, he was running around with an incredibly soggy diaper (and left a huge wet spot on our comforter, which I literally just got our of the washer this afternoon). Thank goodness for Bob the Builder and 8 o'clock bedtime!