Day on lockdown.

Middle-of-the-night feedings are rough. They just are. But, they have to happen for the itty bitty ones. Last Friday (April 19), I was up with Claire at 3:00ish, perusing Facebook to keep myself awake. There usually isn't much of interest on Facebook at that time of day, but last Friday, there was.

A gal we know from Union lives here now, serving with the North American Mission Board and working with international students at MIT. Because the bombers from the marathon bombings had shot and killed a campus policeman on MIT's campus, she was up and updating her Facebook at 3:00 in the morning. Her updates were my first glimpse into what our day would be like.

Brad and I were both up at 6:00am, and we turned on the news to find out what was happening. I'd already gotten a text from my aunt and a Facebook message from another family member to check on me and make sure I'd seen the news. Of course, that early in the day, nobody knew much of anything, so everything was especially hyped up and intense. We knew that the bombers had -overnight- robbed a 7-11, hijacked a vehicle (but let the driver go), killed a campus policeman at MIT, and gotten into a firefight with the police.

Over the course of the next hour, we learned that the older brother had been killed, the younger brother was on the run in Watertown, the Boston PD had set up a perimeter around a section of Watertown, and the government had advised everyone in nearby neighborhoods (including ours- Brighton) to stay inside until further notice. Brad got a text from Boston College, informing students that campus was closed. Shortly after that, we learned that the T (public transportation) was shut down for the day, too.

FYI: if the T is down, Boston is down.

In a very short amount of time, a lot of stuff happened. Our phones and Facebook accounts were exploding with people who wanted to check on us. We realized that yet another day of that week would be devoted to the aftermath of the terror of the marathon bombings.

We also realized that we would be playing the waiting game for who-knew-how-long.

The flurry and activity of the morning quickly settled into a boring kind of anxiousness. Our plans for the day had been derailed, and the fact that we were being told we couldn't go outside made us antsy to get outside. You know, the whole Eden concept of really wanting what you can't have?

Brad was productive and did school work. Barbara, my mother-in-law, spent time making meals for our freezer. I took care of Bearsy and tried to find things to occupy my time. We had to take breaks from watching the news, as all the repetition was draining. Frasier to the rescue!

Of course, we did check in hourly. You can't just ignore the fact that a fugitive is on the loose and hiding out about a mile and a half away. We talked quite a bit about how our day was a great an example of how terrorism is supposed to work: your regular life is interrupted by the inability to do what is normal. Safely. While we weren't afraid, we also weren't able to be our everyday selves. Brad had some awesome insights into why we react the way we do, and why this kind of terrorism is so horrifying. And why we rally (Boston Strong, anyone?). It's an awesome post unto itself. I'm trying to get him to guest post.

Eventually, we found ourselves glued to the saga unfolding around the fugitive in the boat and the newest video footage of gunfire. The thing that really got us was that Mr. Tsarnaev had been hiding in that boat...outside of the perimeter the police had been searching all day. What a neat stroke of providence that he was spotted and reported.

The day ended in celebration; celebration that our lives could return to "normal." Some celebrated patriotism, and some- rather unkindly- celebrated vengeance. I prefer to hope that our justice system will seek justice, not vengeance. But whatever was being celebrated was being done in grand style on the Boston Common.

You know what, though? I found that my first reaction to the footage of the celebration on the Common wasn't to join in but rather to think, "I wouldn't be caught in a crowd like that for anything right now. What if another bomb goes off?" Terrorism...doing it's job. Making me think twice.

I hope that feeling fades sooner rather than later. I hope that I'm able to remember in Whom I place my trust and that I remember to live my life and model faith to my daughter. I know it will get back to normal, but I also know that you can't erase what happened.

Thankfully, we spent our day in boredom more than anxiety, and we spent our day knowing that we were being prayed for and loved. When that kind of support is in place, of whom shall we be afraid?

Letter to my little bear.

Dear Bearsy,

My mom (you call her Nana) cross-stitched something when I was a baby, and it hangs in my room in Alabama to this day. It goes a little something like this:

Cleaning and dusting can wait 'til tomorrow,
For babies grow up, we've learned to our sorrow.
So cobwebs be quiet, and dust go to sleep,
Because I'm rocking my baby, and babies don't keep.

I'm starting to think that maybe that cross-stitch was sort of a fortune cookie for me. I've looked at it my whole life, but I always thought of it in terms of Nana and me...and now I think about it in terms of you and me.

Mostly because the house is really dusty right now. And (because Nana and Gran are both back in the South-land), the laundry is piling up. You're still in your jammies (and so am I...at 1:00), and I haven't done a single productive thing today, outside of feeding you and changing your diaper.

So, what have I been doing today, the day that you turn 2 months old? Holding you while you nap. It's one of those days where you sleep a lot; yesterday, you were awake a lot. You like to keep me on my toes like that. I tried you out in your bouncy seat, but you kept popping your paci out (in your sleep) and heroically trying to get it back in there (still in your sleep). I felt sorry for you and decided to help you out. Then, I couldn't bring myself to put you back in there. You were just too cute.

I thought you were the cutest when you were born, but you've just gotten cuter and cuter. Your personality is coming out now, and I just can't handle it. You smile (like, knowingly...not just in your sleep) and make funny noises. You love snuggling and talking it out with Daddy, and you hate having clothes pulled over your head. You also don't like having a wet diaper. You still have super expressive hands and move them all the time. It's adorable. 

We gave you a bath in your flower tub for the first time a couple of weeks ago, and you loooooooove it. You are really offended when bath time ends. 

You are such a good girl when we go places, like church or out to eat. We couldn't be prouder of how sweet you are. 

We had quite the eventful week leading up to your 2-month birthday. We took you to your first Boston Marathon, and we had a wonderful time watching and cheering (technically, you slept, but that's no big deal). The day ended very sadly; two bombs exploded at the finish line (three miles away from us) and hurt a lot of people. It was a very sad day; we spent the evening watching the news and praying. A lot of friends were checking on you, though, making sure you were ok. We have wonderful friends and lots of people who love you.

Later that week, we woke up and found out that one of the men who planted the bombs was running away from the police and was in Watertown, which is the next neighborhood over from ours (hint: it's where the Target is). We needed to spend the whole day inside. You slept through most of it, and when you were really awake that night, the brave policemen found the bomber and all of Boston (and the rest of the country) celebrated. Again, so many people checked on you and prayed for you. It was quite a week.

In a couple days, we'll go to the doctor for you to get your first round of, um, band-aids. I'm not excited, but I know you'll be a brave little girl. Maybe we'll give you a bath when we get home, as a treat.

I love you, Bearsy. I'm glad that we're hanging out on the couch today. I'll just close the blinds to hide the dust and ignore the dishes in the sink. 

Photos courtesy of Gran.

Marathon week.

I had big plans for blogging this week. It was going to start with a great post about Claire's first Boston Marathon. I'd even thought about starting a "series" of sorts and calling it "Bearsy Does Boston." Or something like that. Big plans, I had.

Then all the horrific things happened, and I just couldn't bring myself to blog about it. I've actually been processing things for most of the week. Clarification for when Future Erin re-reads this: Two bombs went off at the finish line of the Boston Marathon, killing 3 and injuring over 100.

And then all the craziness of today happened...and is still going on. Clarification for when Future Erin re-reads this: Boston was on lockdown while a manhunt ensued for the second suspect in the Boston Marathon bombings.

It's really hard to wrap my head around things. So, I thought I would go ahead and post what I would have posted had nothing tragic happened. Let's start there, shall we?

Marathon Monday is called Patriots' Day in Massachusetts. And, it's a BIG deal. BIG. DEAL. Boston College, among most of the others, cancels class on Patriots' Day (if only for the fact that getting anywhere is extremely difficult). For my Alabamians, think of the hype and excitement of Iron Bowl days- without the animosity. :) People tailgate (you know, if hanging out on apartment building steps with tiny grills counts) and make signs and cheer and hang out in loud, happy groups. It's a lot of fun. 

I took this picture one block from our apartment. If any of you are familiar with the geography of the Brighton/Allston area (which is probably just my Mom), this is on Chestnut Hill, headed downhill toward Cleveland Circle. This is what the whole route looked like; people lining the trail, cheering and encouraging the runners.

The Marathon is so very much a family event. People were everywhere with their children, grandparents, and pets. 

I loved this sign. It really sums up the feeling of camaraderie and solidarity that everyone feels. I'm no runner, but I can imagine it has to boost the spirit to have people cheering you. Especially around miles 22 and 23. 

I know this picture is out of focus, but do you see that runner in the red shirt? He was pushing another guy in a wheelchair. And he was making time, too

That yellow poster says, "High Five Station," and the gal holding it has a gloved hand outstretched to the runners. Loved it. 

This is where we were hanging out. The runners were definitely looking tired at this point, so it was extra fun to cheer them on. I loved it when someone ran by with his/her name printed on his or her clothing. If I were going to run a race like this, I would totally need to do that. I'd need to hear folks shouting my name. You better believe I yelled really loud for Elissa. I have no idea who she is, but she got cheered on by me.

The runner in the foreground is dressed as a hot dog. 

We saw lots of runners from other countries sporting their flags. Here's a Brit with a balloon tail. Running friends: does that slow you down?

Quite a lot of soldiers marched the marathon. With packs and everything. I was so impressed. I don't know what time they started the race. Really early, I'd guess.

This guy.

My mother-in-law took this picture. We all really love it; it is a good family picture, has great buildings in the background, and has lots of runners. We got back home around 2:00, and she posted it on Facebook.

Unfortunately for our friends, this was at the top of many of their Facebook feeds right as news broke about the explosions. Within minutes of learning of the explosions ourselves, our friend, Nathan, texted to check on us and a Brassart family friend sent me a Facebook message. I decided it would be wise to put up a Facebook status, letting everyone know that we were ok. 

The next few hours were full of watching horrifying events on the news and feeling blessed by all of the friends and family that contacted us to check on our safety. (Incidentally, we were 3 miles from the finish line, which is rather far in Boston neighborhoods.) On a smaller scale, the day had a September 11th feel. It took me a while to figure out why that might be. 

I think what made it so personal and difficult was the fact that we had been out there with fellow spectators, much like the ones at the finish line, enjoying the triumph the runners were experiencing and the family-friendly atmosphere. Children were selling lemonade, for goodness' sake. The runners we watched would have been at the finish line, cooling down and receiving their medals. Maybe even the Elissa that I cheered for...or maybe they were among those who had to be re-routed and couldn't finish the race. Can you imagine? Qualifying for this prestigious race and training for who-knows-how-long only to find that they wouldn't be able to finish? And that many of those who did finish before them were caught in the terror and danger?

It was horrifying and sickening to think of the families at the finish line, enjoying the race one moment and experiencing terror the next. When I thought about the children who were out cheering when the bombs detonated, I had to hug the little bear a bit closer and thank the Lord that we live near mile 23, rather than 26.2. 

The thing that has been such a striking thought is that the day is such a happy, fun, and energetic day. The bombings were made all the worse for it. The weather was even nice (which has been rare these days). 

I don't have an awesome way to end this post. I guess I'm still processing on some level. Sometime, I'll write about our day on lockdown. Wow. 

I would just like to say another heartfelt thank-you to everyone who prayed and thought of us. It was so humbling. So much kindness in the aftermath of so much sadness. Thank you, friends.

Claire's Favorite TV Show

That's right...my 6-week-old has a favorite tv show (besides Downton Abbey. Y'all, don't be silly. Downton is a given. Right, Mols?).

Her favorite tv show that is currently running is...

...wait for it...

The Voice. To be terribly honest, I used to assume that The Voice was a cheesy American Idol rip-off. Silly me. It's similar, sure, but it has a different twist that I really like. To understand a little bit about how it works, read this wiki article. It's really interesting and has me looking forward to the rest of the season.

Anyway, how did Brad and I (who don't even have cable, by the way, and may or may not have spent the past few months working our way through Frasier on Netflix...you know, a series that ended 10 years ago) end up watching The Voice?

A friend of the Brassarts is competing!

What??

It's true. My mom told me that our family friend, Sarah Simmons, was competing on The Voice and that we needed to watch. Well, of course we would. I've been Facebook friends (the true test of friendship) for years because we actually, legitimately know each other. And we have known each other since she was born. Her family lived around the corner from us for years, and we've remained friends with her family through many years and multiple moves around the South/state of Alabama.

Y'all. She. Rocked. It.

In fact, you should check her out on this hulu clip. If you don't want to watch the whole episode, skip to minute 37 to start Sarah's performance.

She's fantastic. I can't wait to watch her throughout the rest of the season. Perhaps you might as well...?

Here's Claire Bear showing her enthusiasm for The Voice. Note her right hand. She learns quickly.

Yay, Sarah! We're so proud of you!

Did it again.

I've been meaning to post something for almost two weeks now. Obviously, I haven't.

I'm hanging my head in shame.

I will be posting quite soon. Things to look for: baby things that we've discovered we love, Claire's superpowers, and my thoughts on love stories.

Intrigued?

If so, try to hang on to the intrigue for a few more days. :)

He is Risen!

He is risen indeed! 

(Or, tapping into my Ukrainian roots: Христос воскрес! Воистину Воскрес!)

I completely missed posting anything for Easter (probably because I was actually Easter-ing in my real life). I didn't get to join in with all of the Easter festivities that our church had going on (let me tell ya, this church looooooves Easter! As it should be, of course), but I did get to church yesterday. I really love being a part of a church that observes Lent...because Easter is that much more exciting and celebratory. When you go through a period of fasting and reflecting together, the culmination of that is so much sweeter. 

Also, it was Claire's first time in church, and she was a doll. She seemed to share her daddy's intense love of Easter. Go Claire!

Since I didn't post anything, here's a little rewind to previously posted, Easter-related posts:

Brad's Lenten reflection
Amiee singing back-up on a very Easter-y song (at the bottom of my post about Lent)

Also, here's the Easter Sunday post on our church's blog, written by a friend of ours in our community group.

I hope you all had a joyful celebration yesterday. And that you had nice weather. And that you had good food. :)