I had an ultrasound on Monday. My husband joined me for the appointment. The first question the Ultrasound Lady asked us was if we wanted to find out if baby was a boy or a girl. I may have been a little overly enthusiastic when telling her that, yes, indeed we wanted to know.
And right away, as clear as day, we found out we're having another boy. Three boys. I'm the mother of three boys. We're really excited. Really excited. My girl is pleased because not only does she not have to share a room, her brother number 1 has to share his room with TWO others. The boys room. My boy is excited because now the boys REALLY outnumber the girls. My baby has no idea what's going on. He'll be in for a rude awakening just before his second birthday.
Fun times ahead!
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Thursday, May 6, 2010
14 reasons why I married the best man on earth
1. Several of the past nights, he's gotten home after the kids are already in bed sleeping. So this morning he woke them up early and got them breakfast at Burger King and took them for a morning drive before work/school.
2. When I first started staying home with baby number 2, we completely underestimated how much it would cost us. We gobbled right through our savings. Instead of me going back to work, he got a second job. He would teach during the week, and put in 24 hour weekends in a metal manufacturing place. There were a hundred days in a row (literally) where he wouldn't get a single day off. He never complained. And once, when he overheard me telling someone how hard it was on me (!!!!) that HE was working so much, he didn't even give me the stink eye.
3. He actually plays with our kids.
4. He hardly ever gets to do anything just for himself. And he doesn't whine about it.
5. He squishes bugs (even the big ones) with his bare hand.
6. He is smart.
7. He can make things. Like, seriously, nice things.
8. He repairs our cars.
9. When he forms a political opinion, it's because he's informed, he's researched it himself, not just listened to some stupid radio or tv talking head. He is able to see all the sides. He knows his stuff. (I do not know my stuff...and sometimes he can talk me in a circle. I like that.)
10. He will talk with me for hours at night. And when I talk about stupid things, he still listens.
11. Sometimes he brings me home chile rellenos for no good reason.
12. He is superhuman strong. I've seen him lift a refrigerator. By himself.
13. He's a good guy.
14. He believes.
2. When I first started staying home with baby number 2, we completely underestimated how much it would cost us. We gobbled right through our savings. Instead of me going back to work, he got a second job. He would teach during the week, and put in 24 hour weekends in a metal manufacturing place. There were a hundred days in a row (literally) where he wouldn't get a single day off. He never complained. And once, when he overheard me telling someone how hard it was on me (!!!!) that HE was working so much, he didn't even give me the stink eye.
3. He actually plays with our kids.
4. He hardly ever gets to do anything just for himself. And he doesn't whine about it.
5. He squishes bugs (even the big ones) with his bare hand.
6. He is smart.
7. He can make things. Like, seriously, nice things.
8. He repairs our cars.
9. When he forms a political opinion, it's because he's informed, he's researched it himself, not just listened to some stupid radio or tv talking head. He is able to see all the sides. He knows his stuff. (I do not know my stuff...and sometimes he can talk me in a circle. I like that.)
10. He will talk with me for hours at night. And when I talk about stupid things, he still listens.
11. Sometimes he brings me home chile rellenos for no good reason.
12. He is superhuman strong. I've seen him lift a refrigerator. By himself.
13. He's a good guy.
14. He believes.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Kerri and Kara
The first year we were married we lived back home. The place where we grew up. Went to high school. Met.
There are certain aspects of our first married year that are remembered differently by each of us. Those aspects are named baseball and hunting. I remember a zillion hours of baseball - both coached and played. And a thrillion hours of hunting. He remembers that there was some baseball and some hunting.
Irregardless, there was a good bit of time my new husband was occupied doing his thing. Fortunately for me, we were married right around the same time as two other couples. Dear couples. One couple is related to us. That is to say, the husband component of that couple is the brother of my husband component. The other couple had a husband similarly involved in his own things......
This left three new wives with plenty of time on our hands. I'm so thankful for those ladies. I can't even tell you. Sometimes we would all get together as couples to play games and eat burgers from the grill. But more often than not, when our husbands were out and about, we ladies would be out walking. Or painting the kitchen of the only home owned amongst us. Or wallpapering. Or tearing down wallpaper. And repainting. Etc. We held jewelry parties. Pampered Chef parties. Mary Kay parties.
We were busy gals.
It's since been a decade plus. The house we painted saw the birth of a baby. Its family outgrew it years ago. We've all moved a few times. All of us have children. Life looks a lot different today than it did all those years ago. Even though we only see each other a few times a year at most, I love those ladies and count them as dear friends. Their friendship was a blessing to me in those first years.
Every new wife should have such friends.
There are certain aspects of our first married year that are remembered differently by each of us. Those aspects are named baseball and hunting. I remember a zillion hours of baseball - both coached and played. And a thrillion hours of hunting. He remembers that there was some baseball and some hunting.
Irregardless, there was a good bit of time my new husband was occupied doing his thing. Fortunately for me, we were married right around the same time as two other couples. Dear couples. One couple is related to us. That is to say, the husband component of that couple is the brother of my husband component. The other couple had a husband similarly involved in his own things......
This left three new wives with plenty of time on our hands. I'm so thankful for those ladies. I can't even tell you. Sometimes we would all get together as couples to play games and eat burgers from the grill. But more often than not, when our husbands were out and about, we ladies would be out walking. Or painting the kitchen of the only home owned amongst us. Or wallpapering. Or tearing down wallpaper. And repainting. Etc. We held jewelry parties. Pampered Chef parties. Mary Kay parties.
We were busy gals.
It's since been a decade plus. The house we painted saw the birth of a baby. Its family outgrew it years ago. We've all moved a few times. All of us have children. Life looks a lot different today than it did all those years ago. Even though we only see each other a few times a year at most, I love those ladies and count them as dear friends. Their friendship was a blessing to me in those first years.
Every new wife should have such friends.
Friday, April 30, 2010
sunrise, sunset
Seven years ago tomorrow, I cried. The ugly cry. In bed. At night. And couldn't sleep.
Because eight years ago on Sunday, I gave birth to my baby girl.
Seven years ago on Sunday, that baby girl was turning one. And I couldn't handle it. The year had flown SO quickly. Like a snap. And my teeny tiny baby wasn't a teeny tiny baby anymore. And never would be again. I could FEEL the time slipping away.
And here we sit, on the cusp of the day marking eight years since her birth. And I'm doing the ugly cry. Because I can still FEEL the time slipping away. Like less than a snap.
How can it be?
I wish I could slow things down a little bit. I want to enjoy this more before it's too late. Next week she'll be graduating high school. Next month, walking down the aisle.
Because eight years ago on Sunday, I gave birth to my baby girl.
Seven years ago on Sunday, that baby girl was turning one. And I couldn't handle it. The year had flown SO quickly. Like a snap. And my teeny tiny baby wasn't a teeny tiny baby anymore. And never would be again. I could FEEL the time slipping away.
And here we sit, on the cusp of the day marking eight years since her birth. And I'm doing the ugly cry. Because I can still FEEL the time slipping away. Like less than a snap.
How can it be?
I wish I could slow things down a little bit. I want to enjoy this more before it's too late. Next week she'll be graduating high school. Next month, walking down the aisle.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
bless you
....in which I share too much....
I remember when the big trampolines came into popularity. We were at my cousins house for a graduation. The kids were all jumping around having a blast. At the end of the day when most of the guests had gone home, only family remained. My mom and aunts must have been feeling the relief of a party completed, because a few of them hopped on the trampoline. Only to quickly hop right back off. They all laughed at themselves...saying that jumping on a trampoline is not for any woman that had ever given birth.
I remember looking at my sister, puzzled. They discretely explained that once you have children, you can't hold your bladder. We laughed. And laughed. And laughed. Crazy old ladies almost wetting their pants! Then they gave us a look. A look that said, "Just you wait, my dears. Just you wait."
I can assure you that I am not laughing any more.
I warned my sister about this medical marvel. This old lady disease. It was after she had her first baby. I said, "Be careful if you ever have to sneeze." She laughed. And laughed. And laughed.
A few weeks later, she called me one morning. She was no longer laughing at me, but with me. We laughed together. But not too hard. Because, laughing is just as dangerous as sneezing.
I remember when the big trampolines came into popularity. We were at my cousins house for a graduation. The kids were all jumping around having a blast. At the end of the day when most of the guests had gone home, only family remained. My mom and aunts must have been feeling the relief of a party completed, because a few of them hopped on the trampoline. Only to quickly hop right back off. They all laughed at themselves...saying that jumping on a trampoline is not for any woman that had ever given birth.
I remember looking at my sister, puzzled. They discretely explained that once you have children, you can't hold your bladder. We laughed. And laughed. And laughed. Crazy old ladies almost wetting their pants! Then they gave us a look. A look that said, "Just you wait, my dears. Just you wait."
I can assure you that I am not laughing any more.
I warned my sister about this medical marvel. This old lady disease. It was after she had her first baby. I said, "Be careful if you ever have to sneeze." She laughed. And laughed. And laughed.
A few weeks later, she called me one morning. She was no longer laughing at me, but with me. We laughed together. But not too hard. Because, laughing is just as dangerous as sneezing.
Monday, April 19, 2010
rocket science
I got to see some gals from back home last weekend. It was a blast. So much fun to catch up. Good food. Fun times.
I had to drive a little to get myself to brunch. On the way, I passed many a field. Many. A. Field.
And I started thinking.
I don't think I've ranted on this topic here before. It's not necessarily a passion of mine....or a call I feel towards social activism. Perhaps a call to common sense? To The Greater Good. To Thinking About Thy Neighbor.
Where am I going with this?
Good question.
I live in the lovely state of Minnesota. We have this thing here called No Net Loss. It's about wetland protection to put it completely plainly. Which is the only way I know how to put it. What it means is: if a big company, say Wal Mart, builds a gigantic store on land that had been protected or labeled as "Wetland", then they must pay for someone else or for themselves to put an equal amount of qualifying land that had not been previously categorized as "Wetland" into "Wetland." Which makes sense, right? Yes.
It's all well and good. Wetland is good. Good for wildlife. Good for everyone.
I have no problem with No Net Loss.
I have a problem with drain tiles. (Stay with me, this eventually ties together....sort of....)
Miles and miles and miles and miles of drain tiles.
I'm sure you've seen it.
This time of year, or any time of year when the ground isn't frozen or planted, you can drive yourself into the country and see farmers laying black plastic tubing into their fields. It keeps things dry helping to dispel standing water. Which is fantastic for farmers. Fantastic!
BUT!
Do you know what happens with water that once filtered into the ground slowly, that now quickly and efficiently funnels out of a field? It goes somewhere else. Like to the rivers and ditches and lakes and any other place that does not have drain tile.
All over my wonderful state we are experiencing record Springtime flooding. Where is all this water coming from the people wonder....hmmmm?
It's such a mystery.
Perhaps we could have something called No Net Gain? Maybe for every mile of drain tile placed in the ground a few gallons of worth of water withholding could be built? A lake? A diversion? Something?
Am I the only one who gets her undies in a bundle over problems that have seemingly simple solutions? I know we aren't the only place in the world with this problem. And don't get me started about the chemicals that have been ushered by drain tiles into the aquifers and rivers and lakes and streams and oceans.
I had to drive a little to get myself to brunch. On the way, I passed many a field. Many. A. Field.
And I started thinking.
I don't think I've ranted on this topic here before. It's not necessarily a passion of mine....or a call I feel towards social activism. Perhaps a call to common sense? To The Greater Good. To Thinking About Thy Neighbor.
Where am I going with this?
Good question.
I live in the lovely state of Minnesota. We have this thing here called No Net Loss. It's about wetland protection to put it completely plainly. Which is the only way I know how to put it. What it means is: if a big company, say Wal Mart, builds a gigantic store on land that had been protected or labeled as "Wetland", then they must pay for someone else or for themselves to put an equal amount of qualifying land that had not been previously categorized as "Wetland" into "Wetland." Which makes sense, right? Yes.
It's all well and good. Wetland is good. Good for wildlife. Good for everyone.
I have no problem with No Net Loss.
I have a problem with drain tiles. (Stay with me, this eventually ties together....sort of....)
Miles and miles and miles and miles of drain tiles.
I'm sure you've seen it.
This time of year, or any time of year when the ground isn't frozen or planted, you can drive yourself into the country and see farmers laying black plastic tubing into their fields. It keeps things dry helping to dispel standing water. Which is fantastic for farmers. Fantastic!
BUT!
Do you know what happens with water that once filtered into the ground slowly, that now quickly and efficiently funnels out of a field? It goes somewhere else. Like to the rivers and ditches and lakes and any other place that does not have drain tile.
All over my wonderful state we are experiencing record Springtime flooding. Where is all this water coming from the people wonder....hmmmm?
It's such a mystery.
Perhaps we could have something called No Net Gain? Maybe for every mile of drain tile placed in the ground a few gallons of worth of water withholding could be built? A lake? A diversion? Something?
Am I the only one who gets her undies in a bundle over problems that have seemingly simple solutions? I know we aren't the only place in the world with this problem. And don't get me started about the chemicals that have been ushered by drain tiles into the aquifers and rivers and lakes and streams and oceans.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
very 16
That's how I feel.
I know that I'm older....thirty-one for a few more weeks. My body looks thirty-one. Physically, I feel thirty something. Mentally, I feel about sixteen.
Every now and again my reality smacks me in the face. I look over and see the boy I started dating sixteen years ago. And think, "I am married to you! And we have three children!"
I see the people I went to high school with on facebook. They're all thirty-something now, too. How is this possible? Who is allowing this?
When do the grown ups show up?
I know that I'm older....thirty-one for a few more weeks. My body looks thirty-one. Physically, I feel thirty something. Mentally, I feel about sixteen.
Every now and again my reality smacks me in the face. I look over and see the boy I started dating sixteen years ago. And think, "I am married to you! And we have three children!"
I see the people I went to high school with on facebook. They're all thirty-something now, too. How is this possible? Who is allowing this?
When do the grown ups show up?
Monday, April 5, 2010
Calvin
Last night right before baths, I was leading my wayward five year old down the hall. He turned his head just as I moved my hand and I inadvertently poked him in the eye.
He flinched.
I said, "I'm sorry, buddy. I hope I didn't gouge out your eyeball."
A hopeful look crossed his face as he raised his hand to check, followed by disappointment once he discovered everything was as it should be.
I was reminded of a cartoon strip I read many years ago. Calvin and Hobbes. I told my boy about it. After baths, he sat on my lap as I read to him from the book excerpts we found on Amazon.
They had him at:
Calvin and Hobbes, by Bill Watterson: Available here.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Happy Easter!
Easter is my favorite holiday. It is The Holiday. I love Christmas, and celebrating the birth of our Savior, but without Easter, without death on a cross and Resurrection in a tomb there would be no Reason to celebrate.
We choose to celebrate the big holidays with our focus on Jesus. Our kids know about Santa and the Easter Bunny. They know the story of Saint Nicholas. They know that some people like to pretend that Santa is real, but they know that he is not. They also know not to ruin the game for others. We still stuff our stockings at Christmas time, and pretend. And the knowing doesn't ruin the fun.
We "do" Easter in the same way. They know that there isn't really an Easter Bunny. But we wake up to candy on Easter Sunday. When there weren't any Mr. Goodbars to be found amongst the Krackels this morning, they said, "maybe the Easter Bunny ate them all," with a wink at Daddy.
In a little while, we'll go to our Easter service at church and then come home to eat our ham.
If you ask my kids why we celebrate today they know The Reason.
They sometimes sing a little song...one of my favorites:
Good news! Jesus was born.
Good news! He died upon the cross.
Good news! He rose again.
Good news! He's coming back soon!
We choose to celebrate the big holidays with our focus on Jesus. Our kids know about Santa and the Easter Bunny. They know the story of Saint Nicholas. They know that some people like to pretend that Santa is real, but they know that he is not. They also know not to ruin the game for others. We still stuff our stockings at Christmas time, and pretend. And the knowing doesn't ruin the fun.
We "do" Easter in the same way. They know that there isn't really an Easter Bunny. But we wake up to candy on Easter Sunday. When there weren't any Mr. Goodbars to be found amongst the Krackels this morning, they said, "maybe the Easter Bunny ate them all," with a wink at Daddy.
In a little while, we'll go to our Easter service at church and then come home to eat our ham.
If you ask my kids why we celebrate today they know The Reason.
They sometimes sing a little song...one of my favorites:
Good news! Jesus was born.
Good news! He died upon the cross.
Good news! He rose again.
Good news! He's coming back soon!
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
just give me Jesus
I know the trend is not new. The one where churches get all caught up in being new and innovative. Trying to find the perfect approach to give people an "experience" on Sunday morning. Unfortunately my church is caught up in that now.
I can appreciate all the hard work that goes into what they are trying to accomplish. I get the theme. But what I can't figure out is why we need a theme? Just give me Jesus.
Let's strip away all the jazz. All the distractions. All the fluff.
Let's peel back all those layers and uncover what it is we're all there looking for. Who it is we're all there looking for....
Just. Give. Me. Jesus.
I can appreciate all the hard work that goes into what they are trying to accomplish. I get the theme. But what I can't figure out is why we need a theme? Just give me Jesus.
Let's strip away all the jazz. All the distractions. All the fluff.
Let's peel back all those layers and uncover what it is we're all there looking for. Who it is we're all there looking for....
Just. Give. Me. Jesus.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Some things I've noticed about myself...
- I really love naps
- I really love cheese. And sweets. So much love.
- My body doesn't hide pregnancy well. (Which surely has nothing to do with my love of cheese nor sweets.)
- I love a good second trimester.
- I do not love morning sickness.
- I love that my husband will make a late night run for crappy fast food, and then eat it for me when I've changed my mind at the last minute. And that he is willing to re-run for other cravings without batting an eye. (He's a good man.)
- Applebees's invented Mild Boneless Wings with blue cheese dressing on the side JUST for me. But you are welcome to have them, too. (Just not mine. Lest you lose a finger.)
- I am in NO hurry to get into maternity clothes. None.
- My pants are too tight...not at the tummy - they are riding low....they are too tight in the bottom and thighs, but you know what?! I zipped them. And I'm wearing them. Because they are the smallest size I have worn since high school and I may never get the chance to wear them again with all this chicken and cheese and cake.
- I like coffee again. Thank goodness. I had a really bad run for many sad weeks where the thought of it made me want to puke my guts out.
- My hair finally fits in a pony tail. Not a lovely pony tail. But I'm working on that.
- I'm hungry for second breakfast.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Number 4
In
October,
we'll
have
another
baby.
(It's been a little quiet here, I'm exhausted. Hoping the next trimester that starts next week will bring with it some new energy.)
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
I took the opportunity to clean out my purse while waiting in the car for my girl to be done with school.
Papers. So many little stubs of paper. Receipts. Slips. Notes. Lists. I stashed them inside a Ziploc bag - holding two smooshed oreos.
I came across a little metal coil. A remnant from a pen that I remember tossing the last time I purged the purse. I opened the little baggie to add it to the paper trash, when a thought crossed my mind.
Might I ever need this little metal coil?
You know, what if the engine stalled and this small piece of aluminum (or whatever) could fix it? No. That doesn't happen in real life. I am never in an episode of Macgyver.
But I sure used to watch that show A LOT when I was younger. Isn't it funny how deeply impacted we are by such things?
I read a post here about how soap operas have impacted the "Redeemed Diva's" thinking. (She's a hoot!)
Anyhow, I threw out that coil. I hope I never happen upon a bomb squad trying to diffuse a bomb. It could have come in handy.
Papers. So many little stubs of paper. Receipts. Slips. Notes. Lists. I stashed them inside a Ziploc bag - holding two smooshed oreos.
I came across a little metal coil. A remnant from a pen that I remember tossing the last time I purged the purse. I opened the little baggie to add it to the paper trash, when a thought crossed my mind.
Might I ever need this little metal coil?
You know, what if the engine stalled and this small piece of aluminum (or whatever) could fix it? No. That doesn't happen in real life. I am never in an episode of Macgyver.
But I sure used to watch that show A LOT when I was younger. Isn't it funny how deeply impacted we are by such things?
I read a post here about how soap operas have impacted the "Redeemed Diva's" thinking. (She's a hoot!)
Anyhow, I threw out that coil. I hope I never happen upon a bomb squad trying to diffuse a bomb. It could have come in handy.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
through the fog
A low dense cloud parked itself over our city this morning. As I made the morning rounds of school drop-offs, I found myself on a road that leads straight towards a beautiful old Catholic Church. This church has a very tall, very pointy steeple with a shiny gold cross at the tippy top.
I couldn't see it, but I knew it was there.
I watched for it.
Closer, closer, and then slowly through the fog, it appeared.
I had a moment as I contemplated this as a metaphor.
Just because I can't see it, or feel it, or hear it, doesn't mean it isn't there.
Just because I can't see Him, or feel Him, or hear Him, doesn't mean He isn't here.
I couldn't see it, but I knew it was there.
I watched for it.
Closer, closer, and then slowly through the fog, it appeared.
I had a moment as I contemplated this as a metaphor.
Just because I can't see it, or feel it, or hear it, doesn't mean it isn't there.
Just because I can't see Him, or feel Him, or hear Him, doesn't mean He isn't here.
Monday, March 1, 2010
nearly
I walked to the corner of the kitchen to throw away a Kleenex. The garbage was stacked to capacity. It's a game we aren't purposely playing....if you can stick a piece of garbage into the bin without toppling the contents, you don't have to change the bag and take out the trash. Sort of like Jenga.
I lifted out the old bag, tied it and stepped outside to place it in the big garbage bin. I wasn't wearing a coat. Nor shoes. But I wasn't freezing.
There were birds singing.
I listened carefully.
And I could hear it.
Spring.
Not too far away.
I lifted out the old bag, tied it and stepped outside to place it in the big garbage bin. I wasn't wearing a coat. Nor shoes. But I wasn't freezing.
There were birds singing.
I listened carefully.
And I could hear it.
Spring.
Not too far away.
Monday, February 22, 2010
retreat
I went on the BEST mom's retreat ever this past weekend.
Hallelujah.
Twenty women from my mom's group rented out all but one room of a bed and breakfast, and the entire adjacent guest house. We played games. We laughed. We ate pizza and cheesecake.
We felt a little sorry for the couple that was sharing the house with us. We tried to keep our enthusiasm under control....but when someone has to mime diarrhea....
We disbanded to our rooms sometime after midnight. Neighboring rooms visited a little later into the night.
Morning came and we gathered again for breakfast.
Biscuits with sausage gravy, blueberry coffee cake, and fresh fruit.
Divine.
I glanced at the couple across the room. Feeling like I should go over and offer my apologies for the night before.
But the woman got up and came over. She spoke to one of the gals in our group, who then pointed her to our leader. She whispered something and then stood in front of us all.
She and her husband, a pastor, wanted to take a moment to offer us encouragement. She said the most wonderful words. She shared her journey with us. She said, "when you can answer 'yes' or 'no', take another moment to explain. Before you know it, your children will be off on their own."
She told of the times she and her husband would pray at night.
Of how God blessed her with a job opportunity right out her back door once her kids went off to school.
The tears! You should have seen the tears streaming from our faces.
We said we had been worried the night before that we were disturbing them. She said they had been happy for us. Glad that a bunch of young mothers could sneak away and find refreshment and laughter.
It was refreshing.
Completely.
Hallelujah.
Twenty women from my mom's group rented out all but one room of a bed and breakfast, and the entire adjacent guest house. We played games. We laughed. We ate pizza and cheesecake.
We felt a little sorry for the couple that was sharing the house with us. We tried to keep our enthusiasm under control....but when someone has to mime diarrhea....
We disbanded to our rooms sometime after midnight. Neighboring rooms visited a little later into the night.
Morning came and we gathered again for breakfast.
Biscuits with sausage gravy, blueberry coffee cake, and fresh fruit.
Divine.
I glanced at the couple across the room. Feeling like I should go over and offer my apologies for the night before.
But the woman got up and came over. She spoke to one of the gals in our group, who then pointed her to our leader. She whispered something and then stood in front of us all.
She and her husband, a pastor, wanted to take a moment to offer us encouragement. She said the most wonderful words. She shared her journey with us. She said, "when you can answer 'yes' or 'no', take another moment to explain. Before you know it, your children will be off on their own."
She told of the times she and her husband would pray at night.
Of how God blessed her with a job opportunity right out her back door once her kids went off to school.
The tears! You should have seen the tears streaming from our faces.
We said we had been worried the night before that we were disturbing them. She said they had been happy for us. Glad that a bunch of young mothers could sneak away and find refreshment and laughter.
It was refreshing.
Completely.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
My problem?
I have no tulips. Or daffodils. None. Whatsoever.
This is a problem that must be remedied.
Quickly.
This is a problem that must be remedied.
Quickly.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
on a Saturday
There was a spot of sunshine on my living room floor. I stretched out onto it.
"What are you doing, mommy?"
"Stretching. It's like exercise."
That proved to be a good enough answer. Life continued all around me. My daughter, busy setting up books in her library. Wearing heels.
A battle waged five feet from my head between a penguin and Captain America.
My baby found a wooden spoon and metal bowl - that not fifteen minutes prior were props in a one woman play.
Laying in the warm sun I was keenly aware of my surroundings. I heard the click clack of shoes dangerously close to my fingers. My head only a few inches from a bowl being rung with the smacks of a wooden spoon.
A shadow covered me. I braced. False alarm. A snuggle. From my babe. With a bit of runny nose smeared on my cheek for good measure.
The library opened a north branch.
Angry howls from the war front. The Mach 5 is no where to be found.
I think I'd like Chinese take-out tonight.
"What are you doing, mommy?"
"Stretching. It's like exercise."
That proved to be a good enough answer. Life continued all around me. My daughter, busy setting up books in her library. Wearing heels.
A battle waged five feet from my head between a penguin and Captain America.
My baby found a wooden spoon and metal bowl - that not fifteen minutes prior were props in a one woman play.
Laying in the warm sun I was keenly aware of my surroundings. I heard the click clack of shoes dangerously close to my fingers. My head only a few inches from a bowl being rung with the smacks of a wooden spoon.
A shadow covered me. I braced. False alarm. A snuggle. From my babe. With a bit of runny nose smeared on my cheek for good measure.
The library opened a north branch.
Angry howls from the war front. The Mach 5 is no where to be found.
I think I'd like Chinese take-out tonight.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Daddy's home
Or will be tonight.
He was only gone for three days.
Three too many.
We like it so much better when he's home.
(I like it so much better when he's home.)
He was only gone for three days.
Three too many.
We like it so much better when he's home.
(I like it so much better when he's home.)
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
blessed assurance
I've been imagining my life as a fragile object nestled in a web of delicate threads. The threads are composed of strong fibers that have been suspended from a wooden frame, held by a strong hand.
Life's events make this fragile object sway. Sometimes one or two delicate threads splinter and break....causing an uncomfortable shift in the balance. When a shift occurs, I can try to make adjustments myself. There are times when self-adjusting seems to work. However, more often than not, self adjustments only make the problem worse. Because I am not looking from the outside in. I am feeling from the inside out.
I find that I am much better off when I allow the strong hand to correct the balance. And I need to be patient when that strong hand lets me learn about trust and dependence while remaining imbalanced. Because He does have two hands. One to hold the frame. And the other to hold this fragile object.
Life's events make this fragile object sway. Sometimes one or two delicate threads splinter and break....causing an uncomfortable shift in the balance. When a shift occurs, I can try to make adjustments myself. There are times when self-adjusting seems to work. However, more often than not, self adjustments only make the problem worse. Because I am not looking from the outside in. I am feeling from the inside out.
I find that I am much better off when I allow the strong hand to correct the balance. And I need to be patient when that strong hand lets me learn about trust and dependence while remaining imbalanced. Because He does have two hands. One to hold the frame. And the other to hold this fragile object.
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