Living Loving Creating (Little) Green(s)

Till We Have Faces

2012-02-16T05:00:00.000-08:00

"I knew that all this had only been a preparation. Some far greater matter was upon us...the air was growing brighter and brighter about us; as if something had set it on fire. Each breath I drew let into me new terror, joy, overpowering sweetness. I was pierced through and through with the arrows of it. I was being unmade. I was no one...the earth and stars and sun, all that was or will be, existed for his sake. And he was coming. The most dreadful, the most beautiful, the only dread and beauty there is, was coming...."

Every couple years since my sophomore year in college I've reread Till We Have Faces, by C.S. Lewis. It's a retelling of the Cupid and Psyche myth, from the perspective of Psyche's older sister, Orual (Or You All??). The first part of the story is her accusations to the gods for their injustice while the second part concedes that she was wrong. With Psyche's help, she's able to see glimpses of the hidden things that she wasn't able to see or understand along the way.

It's so good.

I know some day we'll see with our veils lifted. This life is a shadow, a glimpse of things to come where all things will be reconciled under Christ. Some days that just doesn't seem possible. Will God really reconcile all things to himself? I mean, all things?

We long for justice, mercy and healing in the big things. Children that are trafficked, starving, sick and dying. All creation groans in anticipation. All of this waiting and working intermingle in a way that just awakens more longing.

How long, God? How long till all is set right?

We can't ignore the every day tasks in the same way that we can't shut our eyes from the big things. Yet it seems there are so many things working against us. We're smack dab in the middle of the tension of now, trying to navigate what it looks like to love our spouses, families, friends and those around us. We try to reconcile our own story within the Great Story, but it looks different for each person. If we are to be God's hands and feet of reconciliation for these huge matters of injustice, we have to constantly be in the midst of reconciliation ourselves as we operate in unity within our community of faith and family units. No two people see everything exactly the same way, yet we still have to operate as one. It's this constant, often complicated dance of giving and learning what is best for the whole, not just one part, as every decision we make effects the others. The family, the local church, the universal church can only function and flow by constantly giving up our own power, bending over backwards and encourage each other while listening to the rhythm of the others, joining in where the others lack. I just wish there was less bickering within the evangelical community and more encouraging. I mean, I get it. It's hard to function well within a marriage where there's only two people; how can churches that are full of so many different people actually function well?

I sometimes wonder if all our differences hold us back from our full potential. I think of all that we could accomplish if we were on the SAME PAGE. Then again, I wonder if maybe that's just the wrong way of looking at life. Maybe we can't handle our full potential; if we're always striving to reach it than life becomes about us, what we can accomplish. Maybe our differences are what keep us from thinking too highly of ourselves, thinking we have all the right answers for how things should be.

It seems we could find more ways to celebrate our differences in a way that shapes us into people that put others in front of ourselves. Instead of arguing about who is to take the lead, letting the Holy Spirit take the lead. Wouldn't it be better to have a group of people outdoing each other in how well we serve one another, instead of focusing on who leads who?

When all is said and done, when the shadows are engulfed by Light, and we see things as they are, not as the distortions that we've made them, I think we'll be surprised by how all of our crazy lives fit together as one. And we'll be unmade, realizing that we are no one and yet we matter, not for our sake, but for the sake of the One who hung the stars. We'll be caught up in the dance, no longer having two left feet or falling over each other trying to lead.

"This is our King! The Lamb who died, so we don't have to- our Rescuer. All honor and glory! Forever and ever! And every creature everywhere, in heaven and on earth and under the earth joins in..."

My Current Top Ten

2012-02-11T12:28:00.000-08:00

I love listening to my kids sing around the house. I'm not big on kidsy songs though. My mom made the grandkids a dvd of family pictures and video with Praise Baby songs in the background, which I can handle because of it's sentimental value. I'm with my children all day long though, so if we're going to have a soundtrack for our lives, it can't be a chorus of women singing nursery songs.

I hope this doesn't make me a bad mom.

Each time we hear a new song, Em asks what it means. I love this. Jax just closes his eyes and throws his head around. I love this too.

Here's our current top ten, along with a favorite lyric or two.

Beautiful Things by Gungor- "Could all that is lost ever be found, Could a garden come up from this ground at all...You make beautiful things, You make beautiful things out of the dust. You make beautiful things, You make beautiful things out of us. All around hope is springing up from this old ground. Out of chaos life is being found in You..."

Come By Here by Shaun Groves- "The widows need life to raise the dead and all the beggars plead for their daily bread. Oh we're all singing please, God will you come by here? Come, come and meet us here. Come and touch our tears that we may weep no more. Come, come and meet our pain, come and lift our lame that we may limp no more. Come that we may want no more."

We Will All Be Changed by Seryn- "We can shape but can't control these possibilities to grow weeds amongst the push and pull waiting on the wind to take us. We can write with ink and pen but we will sew with seeds instead, starting with words we've said and we will all be changed..."

The Cave by Mumford & Sons- "But I will hold on hope, and I won't let you choke on the noose around your neck. And I'll find strength in pain and I will change my ways. I'll know my name as it's called again...I know my call despite my faults and despite my growing fears...So make your siren's call and sing all you want, I will not hear what you have to say..."

Poison and Wine by The Civil Wars- "Oh your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine...I don't have a choice but I still choose you."

Sigh No More by Mumford & Sons- "Love that will not betray you, dismay or enslave you, it will set you free, be more like the man you were made to be."

How He Loves by David Crowder- "And we are his portion and He is our prize, drawn to redemption by the grace in his eyes. If grace is an ocean we're all sinking."

Toes by Zac Brown Band- "Concrete and cars are their own prison bars like this life I'm living in, but the plane brought my farther, I'm surrounded by water and I'm not going back again...life is good today..."

Something Beautiful by Needtobreathe- "And the water is rising quick and for years I was scared of it. We can't be sure when it will subside but I won't leave your side..."

Dancing in the Minefields by Andrew Peterson- "'I do' are the two most famous last words, the beginning of the end, but to lose your life for another I've heard is a good place to begin 'cause the only way to find your life is to lay your own life down and I believe it's an easy price for the life that we have found. And we're dancing in the minefields, we're sailing in the storm. This is harder than we dreamed but I believe that's what the promise is for. So when I lose my way, find me. When I loose love's chains, bind me. At the end of all my faith, till the end of all my days. When I forget my name, remind me. 'Cause we bear the light of the Son of Man so there's nothing left to fear, so I'll walk with you in the shadowlands till the shadows disappear. 'Cause he promised not to leave us and his promises are true so in the face of all this chaos, baby, I can dance with you."

The Art of Tapping Out

2012-02-10T07:23:00.000-08:00

There's something I've been trying to write for a week now but just can't find the words. I've spent the last several days staying up late, writing during nap time, filling space with thoughts that I can't knit together.

It's wearing me out.

So, I'm letting it go.

So my kids don't wake to a tired, grumpy mom.

So I don't snap at my husband.

So I'm not so freaking emo from an overused, under rested brain.

I'll return to these ideas after they've had more time to incubate because I want to use words wisely.

To lift up, not tear down.

To encourage, not frustrate.

But I'm not there yet.

For now, I choose rest.

First though, back to the every day tasks that have been neglected.

Mopping.

Scrubbing.

Dusting.

Laughing.

For the love, I need a good belly laugh.

I'm right, I'm wrong. Just Listen.

2012-02-06T06:23:00.000-08:00

Second semester twelfth grade basic English was one of the most difficult classes I taught. The students had checked out long before entering the room and just showed up because my class was a requirement to graduate. Some were there because they had failed it the semester before. There was passive aggressiveness oozing from every direction. And sometimes downright aggression. Every time I was called a biotch by some angry teenager I had to remind myself that it wasn't really me that they hated. It was probably more of a projection of their own self hatred. At least that's what I'd tell myself so I didn't curl up in the corner of my classroom and cry.

There was always this one project that we did that allowed me to see past the teenage angst in them. It was a reflective piece in which I found the meaning of their name and they had to determine what it would mean if they were to actually live by their name. I asked them to share their story and how different experiences and relationships had shaped them. It exposed their hopes, fears, and long list of failures that already plagued so many of their lives. It gave me a framework in which to look at them for the rest of the semester. No longer was the sleepy girl with the permascowl just some lazy kid that refused to participate. She was a lonely ex-girlfriend who had always been pro-life until she got pregnant. Her parents and boyfriend refused to support her decision to keep her baby so she made the choice that she never thought she would. There were the countless number of kids whose dads had walked out on them. Some admitted to numbing their pain with drugs, alcohol, and cutting.

It's easy to disregard someone who you don't see as connected to a greater story. When they're just a name, a face, and a strong opinion or attitude, you can just blow them off. When you're able to see the history behind all these abstract pieces of information, you can see them as the person they are, and it becomes much more difficult to vilify them.

When we fail to listen to others, to allow ourselves to know them, our relationships become about power. We need to be heard because what we have to say is more important than the other person; we're right, they're wrong and they must be made aware of this. No one flourishes in this type of environment though. This was a big struggle with my students. They always felt powerless. People in those situations lash out or disengage. I think this is why we have such trouble forming authentic relationships with those that are different from us. There's the tendency to want to control their thinking, to mold them into our image. We do this all the time and journey through life with an "us" and "them" mentality. It's easy to identify this in groups like the religious right, who use politics as a means of power to control the culture. Then again, I can vilify them as a group while failing to take responsibility for how I do this myself. For me, it's more covert than needing to win an argument or debate because I'm not wired that way. Instead, I internalize and just write people off. I stop listening. I don't think it comes naturally for anyone to give up the need to control and be right. If I'm not consciously asking the Spirit of God to lead me in this, I fail every time. I've seen how I need to relinquish my power in this area and allow for God to transform me. Only through this transforming power of Christ, found in giving up our power, can we actually play a part in transforming the world.

One Love. One Life, Together.

2012-02-03T05:22:00.001-08:00

The day that Matt and I got married was by far one of the best days of my life. Obviously, much of this was wrapped in the fact that we were starting an adventure, three years in the making, and pledging our commitment to each other before God, family and friends. Engaged girls are always told not to get caught up in the wedding day. After all, it's about the marriage, not the day. While I fully understand the sentiment behind that, I say it's hogwash. When Em gets married, I want her to get absolutely swept up in the joy of the day.

I'm not a planner. I fly by the seat of my pants and tend to leave projects unfinished as I get bored with details, but when it came to my wedding day, I had every detail meticulously thought out. This day was a climax to two separate stories that both of us had been living that were now combining into one. Two different worlds colliding in a way that would forever bind us together. I wanted every person in attendance to know Matt and I as fully as possible. I also wanted each person to know that they were there because they had played a special part in our lives. The ceremony was deeply personal from the song I walked down the aisle to, to our fathers praying over us with our moms and wedding party. At the reception, we showed where we came from with pictures of our parents and grandparents framing the table that had the seating assignments, which were in the form of titles corresponding with stories from Matt and my dating relationship. Our favor was a CD that we put together with meaningful songs and a note explaining how much we appreciated each person that had made the point of not only sharing this day with us, but sharing life with us as well.

What I loved so much about our wedding day was having everyone we loved in one place. For one day, all the people that were important to us in so many different ways were unified because of their love for us. I mean, as egotistical as this may sound, isn't that the case? As the dancing winded down and Matt was ready to whisk me away for a whole other sort of unification, I had trouble leaving. So many friends and family in one place just made my heart swell and I didn't want to say goodbye. I loved seeing everyone enjoying each other. I was overwhelmed by the fullness of God that we were able to experience that day.

It's almost as if it was a glimpse of the oneness that we will get to experience...someday. All of that preparation, hard work, and creativity was stitched together in love.

I've been getting scattered glimpses like this in the last couple months as times spent with family and friends has been unifying and encouraging in ways that fill me up and make the difficult and in-between times more manageable. Sometimes it's small, simple things like huge hugs and sloppy kisses from my kids that make the toys cluttering the floor not an obstacle, but a reminder that this space is filled. With love. With hard work. With people that matter. Really, isn't that what's important? We get to live full lives with others, in the fullness of God, learning to embody the part that He has for us, wrapped in Him. I'm once again blown away by the extravagant love of God that not only invites us into His love but allows us to experience it with others. There are many times when I get caught up in life, being a catty woman, and just not seeing people as Jesus sees them. I'm reminded often of the extravagant ways that God works in us, pouring out his grace and strength in ways that we could never imagine on our own. In these moments, I need to stop, drink it all in, and rest in the glimpses that He gives me to see of life as it should be. The ache of knowing we're not there yet but someday...

Confessions

2012-01-30T12:01:00.000-08:00

Confession: I have iPhone envy.

It's my dirty little secret. I know it's ridiculous. When I was fifteen it was Doc Martens. Now that I'm thirty, it's a phone. Same idea though. It seems like everyone I know has one and I don't. I understand that a phone won't make my life any better. Really, when I stop to think about it, I don't even want one, which brings me to my second confession: Sometimes I treat not having this phone as my cross to bear.

Have I judged you for your iPhone? Ninety-eight percent of the time, no, but I wouldn't put it past me. I do apologize for this. Sincerely.

It's not even about the phone. So what if there's a woman who can search the web to answer any random question that my three year old may have during the day. Yes, it would be nice when Emma wants an explanation for everything, to hand her the phone and say, "I'm not sure Em, just ask Siri," but then my child would grow up as the dumb kid because Siri seems to be operating a couple fries short of a Happy Meal if you ask me.

Now Instagram, that's another story. The fact that friends near and far are always posting their sweet pics and liking and commenting on each other's makes me feel like I'm on the outs.

I KNOW.

First world problems at their finest.

My husband has an iPhone, which is even connected to my twitter and fb, so I am essentially on Instagram. But it's his voice, not mine. He chooses the pictures and the captions. Not me. And well, he tends to overpost. I knew I had a problem when we were at Disney the other day and I found myself getting annoyed at him for Instagramming- and it wasn't a matter of him being fully present. It was that he was controlling what was presented about us to the world.

Completely childish, indeed. I should roll my eyes at my pettiness and move on. I just want to live free though, and I don't think you can really live free until you identify the root causes of things even as silly as coveting a hunk of technology. It's times like this that make me step back and take inventory of my life and ask, "What the heck is wrong with me??"

I'm part of a generation that prides itself on being real and authentic, yet we hold so tightly to controlling how we are perceived by others. I want to connect with people in deep, meaningful relationships, which I feel like I am doing in many ways. It just takes so much time and cultivation. Sometimes it's not fun. People make things so darn complicated. Communication isn't just accepted at face value. Apart from sorting through what is said or eliminated, you have to figure out what is meant by tones and expressions. Then when you add several people to the mix, the challenge becomes keeping all these different personalities and people with preconceived notions about each other happy. It just gets tiring. Social media makes it so easy to pull away and yet still give the illusion that you're connecting. It's so much easier for me to be content looking at my friend's kid playing with bubbles, leave a witty comment, and never call her up to hear what's going on in her life. Real life relationships are slow. And deliberate. And can't be contained in 140 characters or less.

Really, my iPhone envy is about me letting go of the desire to control the circumstances that lead to (nonexistent) perfect relationships. Whether that's controlling what others think of me based on silly things I post, or keeping up with every mundane event of a friend's Tuesday afternoon, it doesn't matter. Real relationships are formed by saying the wrong things and having to apologize for being insensitive. They're strengthened by hearing each other's laughter, not seeing their LOL. The relationships that see you as you are, not the tidy online version of yourself. The people you choose and who choose you back. A phone won't make it any easier to connect with those that I love. It'll just make me compete with my husband to make our family look hip on Instagram, which would only confuse people since we have very different definitions of cool. I'm sure the iPhone is a great tool for many. Probably not for me at this point though. So, if I'm ever frothing at the mouth staring at your phone, do me a favor and punch me in the face. I'll sure I'll thank you for it later.

Happy Birthday, Boo.

2012-01-23T21:42:00.000-08:00

Today my husband enters the last year of his twenties. To him, this is a big deal. To me, not so much. I've comfortably adjusted to my thirties, so as he plans out his "Thirty by Thirty," I can just sit back and watch him squirm through the last leg of a decade that I've had the privilege of walking through with him.

How things have changed since I met that nineteen year old with floppy hair and cargo pants.

It's hard to believe where life has brought us over these past ten years together. So much has happened, but I'm so glad that we've been able to do it together. I guess I've never really understood the mentality of figuring out who you are before starting your life with someone. The twenties are such tumultuous years as it is, I can't imagine trying to figure out everything alone. The fun has come through sharing life with someone who I know has my back no matter what. I love the fact that we have a lifetime together. We don't have to set ourselves up for failure by thinking our relationship has to be perfect right now. I know how far we've come, and I hope we stay on the same trajectory. We have a great marriage, but it's come from a whole lot of hard work on both sides. I love that I married a man that is willing to grow and learn with me. The reality is, we're so different in many ways. We're not one of those couples that never has anything to talk about. In fact, it's quite the opposite. We talk. A lot. We discuss. A lot. We disagree. A lot. But we love a whole lot too, and so it works. We chose each other years ago and we continue to choose each other every day.

So thank you, babe, for dancing through life with me. Thank you for loving me and the kids with your actions. You're a great man who is fun, sincere, diligent, humble, and strong. I truly enjoy being around you. Thank you for getting up before the sun so that you can come home earlier to spend time with us at night. Thank you for cultivating relationships with those around you, even when it seems there isn't any more time that can possibly be sucked from a day. People are important and I'm glad that you strive to make them a priority. Thank you for getting down on the floor with your children and chasing them around after a long day. This time is so important. Thank you for making up stories that make them laugh. You are such a great husband and dad. I'm proud of the man you are and the man you're becoming.

I love you so much and can't wait to see what's in store for your next ten years.

Advertising for Team Jesus

2012-01-16T00:02:00.000-08:00

Let me start this by saying, I'm really not trying to be controversial, these are just things I'm thinking through. In no way am I saying I'm right and anyone that disagrees with me is wrong. So please, throw on your hater blockers, and appease me for just a minute.

During the Broncos/Patriots game, I got a text from a friend that asked what I thought about the Focus on the Family commercial that aired.

My first thought?

Oh geez.

I wasn't watching the game, so I had to go look it up on YouTube.

It was a bunch of super cute kids, reciting John 3:16. I mean, how can anyone say anything bad about that?

Except I don't think that's the case. I'm really not trying to be negative here, but it bothered me.

Yes, it was cute. I just don't know if it's appropriate to put an ad for Jesus between car and chips commercials. I don't know if it's appropriate to have commercials for Jesus, period. Advertising is a way of manipulating people into thinking that you need a product. Are we to use manipulation to share who Jesus is? While I loved the children and what they said, using kids is especially manipulative. I mean, why not throw in a puppy or a sweet little grandma in a wheelchair as well? It's reducing Jesus to a product that we need.

Something about this list just looks wrong to me:

Mercedes.
Beer.
Toilet bowl cleaner.
Jesus.

The quick fix. The gospel of me. Make my life better and gimme somma that eternal life too.

I know people will say that's not the message of John 3:16. And that's why I say context matters. The message gets muddled in a thirty second slot in the middle of a football games where products are advertised that everyone knows are not truly life changing. It's sending the wrong message.

It troubled me even more when I read what Focus on the Family's spokesperson, Gary Scheenberger, said,"We will hear about shoving religion down people's throats. But if it's okay to shove Doritos down people's throats, and cars and everything else, we have the right to advertise too."

Is this really how Jesus would want himself represented? Was this ad about sharing the love that Christ has for the world, or was this ad about the right to do so? Was it so Christians could give each other high fives? Because when it starts to become about our rights, then something's wrong. We relinquish our rights as followers of Jesus. The world may use any means necessary to control the culture, to get ideas across, to be heard, but we're to embody the life of Christ and resist grabbing for power. Instead of waging cultural wars, we approach those we disagree with in love and humility. Isn't this the way of Jesus?

Does any of this matter? I'd love to hear another perspective. Beyond saying God's Word does not return void because if that's all there is to it, I feel a large Testamints marketing blitz coming on. I mean, does anyone think that this was truly a good idea?

Team Jesus

2012-01-12T23:19:00.000-08:00

As a bunch of my girlfriends were together the other night watching The Bachelor (another post in and of itself), the conversation turned to what most girls talk about when they get together.

Football!

Ok, so maybe that's not normal except for when there's a hottie that plays for our team. There were mixed feelings about Tim Tebow, but the general consensus was that he's seemingly a good guy. I don't think anyone could argue that. When I saw a couple of the girls later in the week, we confessed to continuing to flush out our thoughts on the subject, and while we seemed to reach different conclusions, we all thought the process important.

Yes, I can already see the eye rolls at this point, paired with, "Oh so this is what stay-at-home moms do all day. Think about Tim Tebow."

Uhhh, that and work out.

Totally kidding.

This conversation is about so much more than Tim Tebow, but how I evaluate the relationship between following Jesus and our celebrity-obsessed culture. Is Jesus truly being glorified by a person thanking his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ whenever there's a camera on him? Are we supposed to use our positions, whatever they may be, as a platform for Jesus?

While I may disagree with Tebow on these things, I don't think they're the right questions anyway. I have no control over what Tim Tebow says or doesn't say, but if I'm going to pass judgement, I should start with myself. I'm part of a culture that gives a guy that plays football for a living such an influential voice.

I read parts of a book recently where the author was trying to convince me that Jesus was cool, and I'd be cool if I followed him. In this author's defense, he was trying to say that chasing after all the things that people get trapped by- money, fame, power- is not the "cool" way to live. I think he missed the boat though. Following Jesus is not forming a subculture that becomes the "new cool." I wonder if this is one of those blind spots in Western Christianity that the rest of the Church would look at and shake their heads. Inadvertently or not, we tend to elevate success and comfort in the American evangelical church. We genuinely want people to come to know Jesus, but do we want our comfortable, safe lives to be interrupted? We want people to believe that life is better because of Jesus, we just sometimes believe that blessings come through success, instead of what Jesus preached in the Sermon on the Mount. Celebrity Christians give us a way to show people that following Jesus is for winners because we all want to be winners. Heroes of American evangelicalism are people in the public eye that thank Jesus for their talents because if we're honest, we want a safe God that doesn't expect anything more than that from us. At least that's where I often find myself.

We have contributed to the caricature that has been painted of Tim Tebow as the hero that glorifies God most with his acknowledging Jesus after football games. In the age of the one-liner gospel, I disagree with Rick Warren, who just tweeted this morning, "I'm for anything that gets the media talking about John 3:16." Not if it perverts the gospel and makes it into something that equates believing on Jesus with success on the football field. The context in which we talk about Jesus matters. We root for celebrities and people in power that are on "Team Jesus" as if it will increase God's credibility to those that might consider turning to Christ. As if he needs an endorsement. We want to make Jesus what's in. I mean, if Justin Bieber tatoos his calf with a picture of Jesus and says he loves God, then I will take up my cross and wear a Jesus bracelet. Until the next fad comes along. We get all excited when celebrities are vocal about their faith, but it seems to me that this isn't how Jesus would respond if he found out that some famous dude was following him.

We tend to forget what Jesus looked like while walking this earth and what actions most glorified his Father. He wasn't born in a palace and never aspired to reign from one. He chose to spend the bulk of his time with fishermen and average people. He ate with tax collectors and prostitutes. He didn't try to make his way into influential circles. He could have aligned himself with powerful leaders, but instead rejected pairing with those in power in order to make his message known because the kingdom of God was not about the powers of this world. It was about glorifying God through weakness, not strength or status. Jesus died a criminal's death yet God's greatest triumph came through this very act. We see over and over again in the gospels as well as through the life of Paul and the apostles that the kingdom of God was subversive. The first followers of Christ didn't rise to powerful positions within culture to attractively lead people to God. Scripture repeatedly talks of the power of God made known through our weakness. It highlights His strength. Is it wrong for a Christian to be in a powerful position? No, but we are wrong as soon as we start looking at them as better because of their position or judging them for their motives in being there.

We need to stop exalting or judging Tim Tebow and start looking at how we contribute to a culture that finds it's worth in endorsements and status, instead of in values of the kingdom of God.

Thoughts for My Em (On Being a Girl)

2011-12-19T12:16:00.000-08:00

When I was in third grade I became an entrepreneur for a short time. My elementary school bookstore sold NFL pencils that the boys went crazy over. For some reason I was in possession of one of these pencils when some little boy said he'd give me a dollar for it. Cha-ching. I was no dummy. I knew I could march on down to that bookstore and buy ten pencils for that price. I took my dollar and matched it, buying a whole box of these coveted NFL pencils. Now, I can only assume since many of the boys in my class were already using these writing utensils, they knew that they could purchase them for a dime just down the hall. Being the shrewd businesswoman that I was though, by the end of the day my once full box of pencils was filled with over eleven dollars. Boys were literally throwing money at me. And yes, I see the grooming that very well could have happened in that moment had my life taken a different direction. My mom, who must have had visions of this, was horrified when I brought home my dirty money and toyed with the idea of calling these little boys' mothers. Thank goodness she spared me the humiliation and just explained that I probably shouldn't do that again. Whatever, lesson learned, boys are d.u.m.b.

Fast forward to my early years of high school. Every summer my four best friends and I would go to summer camp. At the end of one of our first weeks we all realized that all of our bank funds had been depleted. But, we really wanted to go on an ice cream cruise that night or at least have a pizza delivered to our cabin. One of us had the brilliant idea that we should just ask people to give us money. Maybe we could at least get the pizza. How we underestimated the power of charming smiles and the phrase, "God loves a cheerful giver." Yep. This was what we learned from our week at Christian camp. How to use God and charming smiles to manipulate boys. Putty in our hands. We made enough money for all of us to go on that ice cream cruise and get our pizza. Lesson learned. We possessed a ridiculous power to get boys to do what we wanted with very little effort.

I don't think I ever consciously processed this power that I held, but I do know that sometime during my high school years I did make a decision that I wasn't going to use people this way. I wasn't going to objectify myself to get something I wanted, whether that was possessions, relationships, or just my own way (I'm sure Matt would say I'm still a work in progress with that last one). I think it must have only been through the Holy Spirit's leading in my life. In some ways it cost me. I missed out on a slew of boyfriends, which at times felt like the worst thing in the world. Though in hindsight, I certainly didn't miss much.

So here's what I want you to know, my Emma. You'll probably discover somewhere along the way that you can very easily manipulate the opposite sex to do what you want them to do. Resist the temptation, my dear. It's so not worth it. You see, you were created in the image of God, and the way of following Him looks different than what you'll hear from t.v., music, and even your friends. Even though Jesus was God, he set aside all his power to come to earth, serve the lowest of the low, and die a criminal's death at the hands of the powerful. He did this to defeat the powers of this world. He defeated the power of sin, so that we wouldn't have to be held captive by it. So we could know God. He defeated the power of death by his resurrection and ushered in a new way of life for those that follow him. He turned the world upside down. He didn't use people to achieve his end. I promise, using and manipulating people will only cause pain. Even when it comes to dumb boys. There will be times when you really like a boy, and there are certain ways you can act or things you can do to get him. To feel wanted. To feel loved. You are amazing and loved just as you are though my sweet, and any boy that fails to see that is not worth your heart.

There will be times when men will try to have power over you because you are a woman. Sadly, I can almost guarantee it. There will be times when men will look at you as an object instead of a person stamped with the image of God. There will be times, I'm afraid, when you will feel small. Take heart in that this is not how God created things to be, and while He's in charge of our world, he has yet to set all things right. Someday he will though.

There's something I want you to know, my love. If you are a child of God, you do have power. You have the Holy Spirit living inside of you, equipping you to live in a way that only He can do. Through His Spirit, you have the power to change the world. People may try to quiet your voice. I pray that you have the courage not to let them. But more importantly than how anyone else responds to you, I pray that God gives you the strength to find your voice and use it to love God and love others. Don't be taken in by the enticement of power. Just know that character is so important, and while it may not get you to the top, it will make it so you can peacefully lay your head down at night. Oh, and for the record, a woman of character does not mean a woman that keeps quiet. Yes, there are times to hold your tongue, but you are the type that has a voice. Use it my love. Use it. Surround yourself with all kinds of people, but make sure you have people close to you that will build you up in becoming the kind, strong, intelligent, and beautiful woman I know you are. I will always root for you. I will always have your back, and I will always understand those days when you feel like it's just not worth it to live like this.

You're so completely wonderful, my sweet, and I can't wait to see all that your future holds. You're incredible. And in case you're wondering, this is what I think about as you nap. :)

Whaaat-Did I Really Just Post a Recipe?

2011-12-13T19:53:00.000-08:00

I love sharing conversations with friends over coffee. Except I hate coffee. It's disgusting. I don't understand how people drink the stuff. I've tried so many times to acquire a taste, but it ain't happening. Since I don't want to miss out on the social aspect of coffee drinking, I've found ways to cope. If there's no hot chocolate or other sweet drink available, I do what I can to make sure the coffee tastes nothing like the black bitterness that it really is. When I saw my friend Heather had posted this recipe for peppermint mocha coffee creamer I had to try it. The great thing about Heather is that you can be sure that everything she makes is el natural. She has gone to great lengths to reform her kitchen as her family faces many, many food allergies. She's pretty much amazing. Plus, this recipe also doubles as straight-up hot chocolate, so you don't even need to taint it with coffee nastiness. Tonight I made these for friends, celebrating the many conversations shared over a drink and cultivated my kitchen in this third week of Advent with JOY at the anticipation of our Savior's birth. I even got Matt to join in on the fun. He totally sat in the kitchen and provided Christmas jams to keep my spirits up. Thanks, babe! Domesticity is tiring, you know.

Peppermint Mocha Creamer

{also makes an awesome hot cocoa recipe!}

2 cups of 1/2 and 1/2 (or 1 cup cream with 1 cup whole milk)

*can be substituted for an non-cow’s milk such as unsweetened almond milk, rice milk, soy milk, or coconut milk

3 tablespoons of cocoa

1/4 teaspon peppermint extract

1/4 cup of maple syrup

1/4 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

METHOD

Let milk gradually come to a simmer from a medium heat in saucepan. Take care with almond milk, if it heats up too high or for too long the flavor changes.

Add the cocoa, peppermint extract, maple syrup, and vanilla extract. Whisk until well incorporated, about 2-3 minutes.

Funnel into storage jar and refrigerate. Lasts 2-3 weeks, keep refrigerated.

Occupy Mojave

2011-12-09T04:47:00.001-08:00

My last post was about cultivating the space I've been given, and how I've been trying my hand at all these domestic activities that I normally shy away from. These thoughts sprang from a pretty dry spell. A few weeks ago I turned off my brain. For real. I flipped a switch and was done. I got annoyed at some things and closed my books, my Bible, my brain and my heart. It was my thirty second rebellious streak. I get them every so often. My drug of choice was Hobby Lobby. Ya'll the place is dangerous. I spent $400 as my way of sticking my middle finger to the world. Except it wasn't sticking it to the world. It was sticking it to no one but me. Funny how that usually works. So $375 worth of stuff went back to the store. Eh. Sometimes I can be quietly dramatic, which I've come to believe is the worst kind of drama. It eats at you and makes the world me-centric. It's not a healthy place to camp out.

Sometimes I just like camping though, you know? Wallowing, and wondering, and complaining is just a whole lot easier than stepping out. It's like the whole occupy whatever movement. At first I got it, I saw what they were saying, but there has to come a time when you make your point and just get back to the daily business at hand. Take a step. Even if it's small. Be oh so faithful with the now. Keep having the difficult conversations. Keep being challenged.

Keep. Cultivating.

I remember spewing out paper after paper during college about being a lifelong learner. I'm not sure how much of it I actually believed as I was writing it, but somewhere along the way it stuck. I don't want to settle for ignorance in the midst of abundance. There's hard work to be done that starts in our minds, as God transforms our hearts and then expresses it in our actions.

Ah, thankful that there's still life in the desert.

MySpace

2011-12-06T21:58:00.000-08:00

What am I doing right now? Crafting.
What will I be doing later? Baking.
What have I been up to lately? Decorating. Well, this one I have to use very, very loosely. It's been more of a process of returning things but I'll get to that. On another day. Maybe.

Here's the thing. I want to cultivate the space I've been given to bless my family and friends. One of my former students recently inspired me with this thought through her grad school application essay. She talked about the symbiotic relationship between an environment and it's inhabitants. Built spaces with intentional designs are usually found in thriving environments. What is one thing you can do if you want to revitalize a neighborhood? Build a playground. Plant flowers. Watch how people grow as their space is cultivated. Some of the most healthy places are those filled with art, music, and beauty. You know, the gravy of life.

So here's the thing, I will never be Suzy Homemaker. Not me, don't want to, won't do it. However, I am committed to serving my family and anyone that enters into our space. Yup. Serving them. As my husband is committed to serving us as well. It will probably take a lifetime to flush out exactly what this means, but I know we are both committed to learning to put the other person first and willing to extend grace to each other as we figure it out. I truly want to be purposeful about this for everyone that walks through our door.

So how does this happen?

Who knows, but it's a nice thought.

Kidding.

I'm still in the process of thinking it through. Here's what I have so far though. The best relationships are fostered through time, commitment, and hard work, but there also must be lots of room for laughter and playfulness. So it is with the space I have to cultivate these relationships. I want to work hard to make it an environment that encourages growth. I want to be intentional. I want to work hard with what I've been given. I have to keep it simple though. I'm easily overwhelmed in these areas. And when I get overwhelmed I shut down. I mean, like serious hairballs in the shower shutdown. Got the visual? Great. So I'm just going to continue to give it a go. We'll see. I'm sure there will be lots of failures, but it's all in the journey, baby.

So here goes...

I want our home to be a place where people feel welcome. Whenever. As I've said before, I miss the days of running down the hall to share a bit of time together. I want our place to be warm, welcoming. And dangit, I want to finish it. One. Project. At. A. Time. Moving into a new place, decorating it, moving out a year later and then moving back in almost another year later is annoying. And great. We were able to get so many upgrades, but mustering up the motivation to start over with a completely different color palette while trying not to spend a lot of money and figuring out a style that we can both agree on has been tough. So, I've avoided it and used it as an excuse not to open our house to people. So lame. Done with that. In the next couple months I will finish my downstairs though. At least fill in the picture frames with blonde haired children that resemble us instead of the muy bonita chicas that currently hang on our walls. Photo shoot on Thursday. Check.

I want the things that leave our home to come from our hearts. I want to give in meaningful ways. If I give a gift, I want it to make the receiver feel loved. And I want my children to be generous. We very clearly saw our lack of success in this area a few nights ago when Matt offered to let one of Em's friends borrow a movie. She threw a royal fit. I mean, with fist pumping and screeching. It was pretty bad, but obviously the concept of a cheerful giver doesn't come naturally to a three-year-old. It doesn't come naturally to me, but this is a huge area that God has been pressing on my heart. It's our job as parents to instill this in our children. I also want to be intentional about what I support with my money. I'm debating staying away from the mall for a while. My problem is that I'm generally content with what I have. Until I enter the mall and see all the things I don't have. What can I say, I love pretty things! This in itself isn't bad, but it's when I start feeling dissatisfied and want more that it becomes an issue. And I don't want to give to big corporations that exploit others so I can save a few bucks to look pretty. Intentional living folks- being accountable for what we know!

I realize I digressed quite a bit, but well, it's late and I've been crafting all day. Love this new excuse. Looking forward to diving into what it means to cultivate my environment in order to build up those around us.

One Thing I Know

2011-12-04T09:26:00.000-08:00

As I pack up her clothes for the passing of another season,

In a flurry to clean up the mess of another day,

I pause for another moment

Thinking of all the hours she spent in those silly dresses,

How much she loved wearing them while I cringed

At her lack of style.

But next season they'll be too small

And will stay in the attic for another time,

For another little girl.

And I'll remember this very minute

Because one thing I know,

The minutes that seem to pass so slowly

Will quickly turn into years

Making me miss the simplicity of my 3-year old's tutus.

I Don't Want to Just Sanitize

2011-11-01T19:16:00.000-07:00

Here's what I learned today as I sat at the doctor's office: My kids are screwed.

They are destined to think that they have cancer, a heart defect, liver disease, or any other health problem that can be identified on the Internet at the first sign of a a hang nail.

What prompted me to realize this was when Emma said to me today, "Mommy, the doctor's is a dangerous place."
"Why do you say that, Em?"
"Because there's GERMS."

No disagreement there. My girl knows.

She just happens to have a mommy that's part of the safety police. And not in a healthy, I'm just being a mom sort of way. It's more like a giiirl, you've got issues sort of way. I get nervous on playgrounds. I get even more nervous if Matt is there because that boy would let them jump off the top of the monkey bars assuming they'd just bounce.

Which I can almost respect.

Because I want my kids to be brave. I want them to be risk-takers that aren't held back by fear. I want them to walk boldly through life. I want them to be the kind of kids that stand up for the outsider, even if that means getting beat up or more likely, losing cooler friends. I hope they love deeply and give freely, without placing expectations on others. I want them to be peacemakers who actively pursue peace instead of passively sitting by avoiding conflict. I want them to live valiantly and joyfully instead of disengaging because of anxiety passed down to them from me.

So, I'm dealing with it instead of putting it off until tomorrow, which becomes next week, which becomes next month, which stays at never actually dealing. This is not just for my own sake but for the two little ones who are constantly watching. I am an active participant in the work that God is doing in my life, and yet I can rest in the knowledge that His perfect love drives out all fear. So day after day, I place it at the altar, in faith that one day I won't need to anymore.

The Static Rule of a Lack of Rhythm

2011-10-28T21:41:00.000-07:00

Recently I was reminded of how much I love art. I was looking through a friend's facebook pictures and recognized a glass sculpture by Chihuly, which brought back a flood of memories that seem so far removed from my current life. I used to sit for hours painting and go to museums for fun on the weekends. I loved watching slide after slide of great works of art in Art History that all had a story behind them. They all had some type of form, some type of rhythm. I miss that season of life. It seems so far removed, especially as I look around my half-hearted attempt at decorating my house. It's like I've lost the creative rhythm.

There's many rhythms within our family that need cultivation.

We've probably lost some valuable rhythms in our house because of my fear of routine. I hate the word. Always have, always will. It's just not a part of my make-up. I get bored easily, like spontaneity, and refuse to make lists. While Matt values structure a whole lot more than I do, he's pretty laid back in this area as well, so when it came time to have children, this was an area that we were on the same page about. We would keep a schedule with our kids when possible, but we wouldn't be bound by it. While this has generally worked for our family, I can't help but think we're failing to establish really important rhythms in our lives and the lives of our children.

Part of this could be due to poor word association.

Routine = stale, lifeless

I see it in the denomination that I grew up with, and in my own life as a follower of Jesus. I didn't grow up in a liturgical church that followed the traditional church calendar or recited creeds in worship. In my own life, I was so repelled by empty acts and words that I refused to do certain things just to do them. That's poor logic though. I think about my relationship with Matt, and how every night we say "I love you" before going to bed and usually when we hang up the phone with each other. It may not be a heart swelling statement each time but that doesn't make it meaningless. In fact, it's probably in the regularity of it that the meaning is found. I notice when we don't say it. It's a natural part of our rhythm as a couple. A steady beat.

Rhythm = dynamic, progressive

We've been working through what this means for our family, and what areas we need to work on cultivating rhythm in our lives and the lives of our children. I know it will probably be a struggle for me as it feels so contrary to my nature, but as awkward as it may feel, we need to press into what we're learning. God has orchestrated His world with a rhythm of which our family is a p.art.

Third World Symphony

2011-10-27T18:55:00.000-07:00

Several weeks ago, I saw this video and haven't been the same since. As I was watching it, I was screaming at the computer, "THAT'S ME! THAT'S ME!! THAT'S WHAT I WANT TO DO! AAAAHHHHHHH!"

To which my husband replied, "So do it."

Seriously? Just like that?

Just. Do. It.

What does that even mean? I had to go through a process of figuring out what it was about that video that resonated so much with me. It's funny, I always get a kick out of people that talk about the clarity that their thirties brought. A good friend of mine often talks this way, and I always laugh at her about it. I think I'm starting to understand though. My twenties were about this crazy search of figuring out God's purpose for my life. What do you want me to do, God? If you just tell me, I'll do it.

Recently, I realized that I've been asking the wrong question.

I've been learning so much about the importance of framework. Without a good framework, you might come to some valuable conclusions, but you will probably miss the big, beautiful picture.

I'd been framing the question all wrong, which brought me through this years long wilderness of searching after who knows what. The question I needed an answer to was not, "What is God's purpose for my life?" The better framed question was, "What is God doing in the world, and how can I be a part of it?"

If I had gotten an answer to my twentysomething year old self's question, I would have missed out on the toil of the search. Through searching, I've seen the heart of Christ and his kingdom purpose. I've been exposed to the things that break His heart. I've seen the things in me that break his heart. I've come to really believe that Jesus is Lord over the whole earth in a now but not quite yet way; he uses us to reconcile a world to him and there is a time coming where he will be all in all. I've discovered that He is working in our world and invites us to partner with him in his work.

His ambassadors.

If that doesn't give a follower of Jesus a sense of purpose I don't know what does.

The part I can play is starting to make sense. I see how He's developing, affirming, and fueling my passions. I see kingdom living in day to day, real ways. I see that He has given me a voice, albeit a small one, but it's one I need to use, even when it terrifies me to open my mouth. I want to be a part of the work that God is doing beyond my own comfort zone because there's no way I can know about things that happen in our world and sit idly back.

I want to see the Third World. I want to touch the faces of poverty. I want to have a symbiotic relationship with those that may not have material blessings but experience blessings that I can hardly comprehend. I want them to show me my own poverty in the masses of stuff that I own. I want to be a part of telling their stories, to give them a voice. I want our stories to collide through Jesus in a way that brings His story together in a rich, beautiful symphony.

I know, it sounds completely naive and idealistic. But I believe that God is truly working in our world and wants us to be a part of it.

So, I'm going to just do it.

In the beginning of the new year, I'm going to take a trip somewhere in the third world to feed hungry children, tutor those living in extreme poverty, or love kids that live on the streets.

Because it's real.
Because I know about it.
Because I believe that hope and change are more than abstract concepts.
I believe they're found through a Person, who was resurrected from the dead to bring new life.

For right now.
For the life to come.

I know this is just a small thing. It'll be a week of my life, and then I will be able to come back to the comforts of my own home. But it's a small piece that I think will be part of a larger picture. We'll see where it leads.

Anyone want to join me?

Not All Communal Living Involves Pot

2011-10-25T12:43:00.000-07:00

I'm thirty years old and I miss college life. This very well could make me a a washed up loser who needs to move on with life, but I don't think so. I just have such a longing for the relational aspect of college life that you don't get again until you're eighty years old and living in a nursing home.

And I have a lot of time before I get to that point.

I loved being able to walk down to a friend's room in the middle of the day and chat. Sometimes those conversations were about nothing while other times we'd work through major life issues without even planning to. Meals could be hours long as groups of people would congregate to be silly together or other times devise plans to change the world. There were days when you could only stay for a minute, but at least you had that moment to make a connection with others, to know that you were not truly alone, even if you had to spend the next eight hours huddled in a cubicle studying.

At curfew during my senior year, I could be sure to find a bunch of girls gathered in the hallway, eating pretzels and nutella, recapping their days. Matt's experience was similar, except it involved a lot more boyish stuff like slugging each other with ping pong balls and pooping on each other. Evidently stuff like this bonds boys together like eating pretzels and nutella does for girls. No matter. The point is, we had people to count on and share life with.

Then we grew up and bought a house. Come to find out the house had Chinese drywall in it, and we lived with Matt's parents for eight months but that's a different story. Kind of. Because while sharing space with your in-laws doesn't sound like the ideal situation, I know that I now have a much greater appreciation for them that I don't think I would have had, had I not lived with them. My brother and sister-in-law lived with my parents for a time as well, and I think the same could be said of their relationship. They lived with them while I was in college and I would come home every summer and break to share a house with them and my oldest niece and nephew. I know that I have a special bond with those kids that I'm sure was developed by living together.

I think I would trade in my house for an apartment. Seriously, I would. Or maybe a condo because I'm pretty sure Matt would never go for throwin' money away for rent. He's all about a good investment, which is precisely why I want to live in an apartment. In a complex with several other families. It's just so hard to truly invest in people when you're scattered all over town. It's so hard to cultivate relationships when half of your time is spent in the car. When I'm sucking as a mom, I want to be able to walk down the hallway to a friend and say, "I'm sucking as a mom. Help bring me back."

Like everyone else we know, we're busy people. When we have an evening without anything going on, we usually just hang out at home. It takes a lot of time and energy to bring people into our space. And let's be honest, unless you do it regularly, it's not always comfortable. It's hard to let your hair down with people you see sporadically. But if we were actually nearby people, then it wouldn't be so difficult. You could just do it.

Matt and I both have all these ideas floating around in our heads that need other minds to cultivate, but how does an idea ever come to fruition when it's being watered irregularly? If I'm not being encouraged with something constantly, I have a tendency to just push it to the back of my mind. I want my family to flourish within an active community of people that are constantly encouraging each other and taking time to work through the difficult parts of life together. Wouldn't that be so much easier if we were actually within close proximity to each other?

Am I just crazy?

Thy Kingdom Come

2011-09-28T12:42:00.000-07:00

In high school I was a tract girl, not to be confused with a track girl, which I only wish I was (I have the scars on my knees from a bad hurdling accident to prove it). I handed out tracts. I personally shared tracts with people. In school. At the mall (until getting kicked out). In the streets of NYC.

Mmmmm- those were interesting days.

Honestly, I loved God with my whole heart and I wanted other people to know the love that I had experienced through Him.

But my framework for sharing with people was skewed. Then, as I've talked about before, I went to college and my faith blew up in my face. God put the pieces back together in a way that I think I'll spend the rest of my life figuring out. I love it. God is continually rocking my world.

Back to tract girl.

When tract girl shared her faith, it would look something like this,"Can I ask you a question? If you were to die tonight, do you think you would go to heaven?"

Answer not really important.

"Can I share with you how I would answer that question?" And onto the tract we would go.

Seriously?

Salvation was about heaven and a personal relationship with God. Believe these four points right now and that was it. Now, as weird as all of that may have been, I hope that God used even that to prick someone's heart in a way that did send them on a path of knowing him. That's the thing about God, even through all of our craziness, he still is on the move in our world.

It's taken years to process this though. The more I dig into the Word of God and the more I read and talk with people, the more I see how the framework we use of "will you go to heaven when you die" is just not getting it. I touched on it in a post this summer, but I'm still in the process of learning and seeing a fuller picture of what the kingdom of God is all about. Particularly, just how important the resurrection is and what it means for us both presently and in the future.

If we base the whole framework of salvation as simply will you or will you not go to heaven when you die than we're missing so much of the richness of God that extends to ALL. OF. CREATION.

I just finished reading N.T. Wright's, Surprised by Hope, and it's one of those books that rattled me and reminded me just how big the work is that God is doing in the world.

Wright says, "...the work of salvation, in its full sense, is (1) about whole human beings, not merely souls; (2) about the present, not simply the future; and (3) about what God does through us, not merely what God does in and for us."

This idea is nothing new to me, yet at the same time, if I'm not continually processing it, my mind tends to default back to salvation is about what God does for me. End of story. It muddles all kinds of things up.

About a month ago I wrote a post about Emma's confusion over heaven, and now I realize my own confusion about heaven. So much of what I learned about it growing up was wrong. It's not as if we die and our "soul" is separate and will live forever in this nonmaterial place called heaven. We talk about dying and going to heaven like that's the end of the story. Heaven forever, baby. I remember that phrase from "using your hand to share the gospel," and if you have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm completely fine with keeping it that way. N.T. Wright says, "The ultimate destination is not 'going to heaven when you die' but being bodily raised into the transformed, glorious likeness of Jesus Christ. (the point...is not merely our own happy future...but the glory of God as we come fully to reflect his image.)" Resurrection is vital to our lives beyond just the knowledge that Christ was raised.

Maybe I just haven't been listening very well (quite possible) but it seems as if we don't spend enough time on the resurrection. Yes, we talk about Jesus rising from the dead. He conquered death. I've heard it said (and have said myself) that everything hinges on Easter. I get that. The risen Lord. He took our sin, and didn't stay dead.

I just never understood all the implications of this. I know, Jesus's human body was transformed. He was the same, yet different. He didn't die and have a soul raised. HE raised. And because of that, we will too. While this is nothing new, I guess for years I've just failed to make the connection between resurrection and everything else that God is doing in the world since then.

Resurrection is so much more than just a point of theology. It's the inauguration of God's kingdom on earth. The new creation has begun. As Wright puts it, Jesus was vindicated about "all that he said about the coming kingdom through his own work, through his death and resurrection has come true."

The resurrection ushers in the beginning of the new creation.

So what in the world does that mean?

Growing up in church you hear the terms new heaven and new earth. The problem is our culture has been so inundated with all this Left Behind hoopla that leaves us trying to decipher truth from fiction. But Jesus returning isn't some weird, science-fiction, it's about God's commitment to setting the world right, to reign as sovereign king. To reaffirm that what he did in the beginning was not this massive mistake, but it was good as he said it was. His plan of rescue worked (is working). And, it brings ultimate justice for those who have faced injustice, suffering, and despair in the hands of those who continue to distort the image of God in the world.

He's redeeming what he called good from the beginning and, "liberating what has come to be enslaved."

My goodness, it's about the entire creation, not just lil old me.

"The New Testament, true to its Old Testament roots, regularly insists that the major, central, framing question is that of God's purpose of rescue and re-creation for the whole world, the entire cosmos. The destiny of the individual human being must be understood within that context. How God is going to redeem and renew his creation through human beings and how he is going to rescue those humans themselves as part of the process but not as the point of it all."

God's kingdom will come on earth as it is in heaven. God is rescuing all of creation from it's current state of decay. And yes, rescuing, in my understanding, is both present and future. We get to be a part of the work that God's doing in the world as instruments of redemption. What we do in this life matters.

But it's God that's going to set it all right in the end. This world's a mess that's not getting any better.

Yes, God ultimately is the one that will set establish his kingdom completely as only He can do. However, if new creation has already begun through the starting point of the resurrection, than it will continue beyond to the future as well. As Paul says, "Our labor in the Lord is not in vain." A point that needs to be expanded upon, I know, but for another post.

While the death and resurrection of Jesus ushered in God's kingdom, we can't forget about his life and teachings, which are the bulk of the gospels.

"When we reintegrate what should never have been separated-the kingdom-inaugurating public work of Jesus and his redemptive death and resurrection- we find that the gospel tells a different story. It isn't just a story of some splendid and exciting social work with an unhappy conclusion. Nor is it a story of an atoning death with an extended introduction. It is something much bigger than the sum of those two diminished perspectives. It is the story of God's kingdom being launched on earth as it is in heaven, generating a new state of affairs in which the power of evil has been decisively defeated, the new creation has been decisively launched, and Jesus's followers have been equipped to put that victory and that inaugurated new world into practice. Atonement, redemption, and salvation are what happens on the way because engaging in this work demands that people themselves be rescued from the powers that enslave the world in order that they can in turn be rescuers. To put it another way, if you want to inaugurate God's kingdom, you must follow the way of the cross, and if you want to benefit from Jesus's saving death, you must become part of his kingdom project."

Yes, please.

I long for purpose. I ache for it, and I believe wholeheartedly that God allows me to be a part of His purpose in our world. I am a new creation.

This only just scratches the surface, but I have to process in chunks. All I know is that the more I learn about who God is, the more I want so desperately to be a part of what He's doing because it's SO GOOD. So much better than I could ever have imagined. So much better than four points that send me to a nonmaterial place of eternal bliss. So much better for this life and for the life to come.

"Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven."

The Things that Keep Me Up at Night

2011-09-05T23:25:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I wish I could go back to a faith that fit into a small box of rules and formulas. I wish I could organize my life with manuals and checklists, and I could measure my life in how many star stickers I was rewarded at the end of the day. I think I can understand a faith like that. It's comfortable and safe, and while I find those words repelling, I probably live there more often than I care to admit.

Sometimes I just want easy.

I don't want to know of children halfway across the world that live in garbage dumps, or women that sell themselves to put food in their family's mouths. I don't want to deal with messy relationships, or explain myself to people that will never understand where I'm coming from.

It would be so much easier to crank up some Jimmy Buffet and pretend that life was all blue waters and fru-fru drinks.

My reality is more like a Mumford & Sons song than Jimmy Buffet though.

In my struggle with faith I do see Him. I have known Him to rescue me from a dull, lifeless faith. I have known the relentless tugs of the Holy Spirit on my heart. I know He has called me for a purpose, and He'll continue to reveal it as I seek after Him. I know, I know He meets us in all our ugliness and doubt. I know, I know that He is present even in places where there is so much pain and sorrow and injustice. I know His grace is sufficient for me and that His power is made perfect in my weakness.

I know He'll never let me settle for easy.

Saying Goodbye

2011-09-01T19:19:00.000-07:00

Matt's grandfather passed away a few weeks ago. This is the eulogy that Matt gave at his funeral. I think he would have been proud of his oldest grandson. I know I was...

Growing up there were certain things that we could always count on when it came to Grandpa. Every Christmas we would all get a card and a $5 gift certificate to McDonalds. For our birthdays, we knew we would be getting a bag of tootsie pops in a Publix bag. Although it was small, we always looked forward to his gifts. This tradition continued even as we married and added spouses and our own children to the mix. Each spouse and great grandkid could expect to get their McDonald's gift certificates from grandpa each holiday and birthday. He was consistent in other ways as well. When I was in high school I could always expect to see grandpa in the southwest corner of all my soccer games. I can still picture it now, he’d be standing with the same group of men each game cheering me on. After the game, win or lose, the first person to be waiting for me on the other side was grandpa. First would be a big sweaty hug, then we’d analyze the game. Even when I was in college, playing at Cedarville, he made sure to make the trip each year to see me play even as his health began to decline. One such instance involved a game in 40 degree weather with pelting rain. He didn’t care. While everyone else was in there cars or gone, grandpa put on his windbreaker and stood out and watched me. His consistent support of his grandkids in everything they did was something that we all took for granted at times but was a cornerstone for our family.

He loved his grandchildren immensely. At family gatherings he wouldn't talk a lot, but he would sit back and observe his family with love. He never had a harsh word for us, even when I'm sure it was overwhelming to have so many kids running around. The one thing he did always have for us was a big hug for each of us. So big in fact that it wasn't unusual for him to pick you right up off the ground. And those hugs weren’t reserved just for family members, they were extended to girlfriends/boyfriends, friends from college, or anyone that came within a 5 foot proximity of him at church. He had a way of making people who weren’t part of the family ‘yet’ feel special. When I told my buddies from college that grandpa had passed, the main thing they remembered was his big hugs. Those hugs that took your breath away… literally.

Over the last year & a half or so, our family has spent Friday nights at Outback with my parents and grandpa. I'm so thankful for this time that I got to see grandpa each week, along with my children. We would talk about sports and he would always listen to the events of my week, good or bad. He would then relate a lot of what I was going through back to when he was working in the same field. He would give me advice on how to handle situations but would mainly listen. I always knew he was on my side whether I was in the wrong or right. One of my greatest privileges of being his grandson was probably something small to everyone looking from the outside. As grandpa’s health declined, he would have difficulty walking from place to place. I decided to start lending him my shoulder each week after dinner to get him from the table to the car. Although this was a small gesture, I believe we bonded from that short walk each week, many times me bearing a significant amount of weight as we weaved through the maze of tables to get to the front door. It allowed me to feel like I was able to honor him by helping him in a small way, to provide him with support just as he has supported me all these years. He would then always tell me how much he appreciated it and we’d hug before leaving the restaurant.

As with his grandchildren, I know his great-grandchildren brought him so much joy, as well. I remember when I introduced both my children to him; He teared up the first time he got to hold them. Emma and Jackson always loved being able to see Big Papa, whom she affectionately named for obvious reasons, each week. When Emma would see big papa, her eyes would light up and she would run up to give him a hug.. Many times, she would have in depth conversations with Big Papa, most of which made no sense, but he didn’t care he just enjoyed each moment with her. He had a way of making my children feel special. I think this was because when he got the opportunity, he always paid attention to them.

The last time that we got to see grandpa was last Friday night at Chili’s. Two things happened at dinner that night that I will never forget. The first was Jackson was being very wiggly last Friday and did not want to sit still. Dad finally took him and sat next to grandpa with him. I was sitting across from him at the end of the table as we normally do, and I remember watching as grandpa started playing patticake with Jax. I was thankful, number one, that grandpa got Jax to sit still so everyone could eat, but also, I remember thinking that I was glad that grandpa was able to have some time with Jax. The second thing that happened that night was there was a balloon man that came around. Whenever Emma sees a balloon man, she pleads with us to get one. Usually dad will end up getting her one, but last Friday, grandpa pulled out a few bucks and got Emma a pink balloon rabbit. I am so glad now, that I didn’t make him put back his money. I am so thankful that he got to buy this little balloon for my daughter last week. I am so thankful that I got to watch him look at her with a sparkle in his eye as she played with the balloon that he bought for her.

Grandpa, I think the greatest thing that you left us with was family. You followed Proverbs 22:6 and raised up your children in the way they should go and now that they’re old… ok older, they have not departed from it. You left you’re 15 grandkids and two grandkids still hear on this earth with 4 parents who are great examples to us of how to live for Christ. You left a big legacy for us all, not many can say that their entire family is committed to loving and serving Jesus.

I like to think that right now, you’re reconciled with grandma, and Johnny and Dani are at your side and you are truly, truly happy. We’re gonna miss you big papa, but so glad to know that all your burdens, pains, and sorrows are taken away.

We love you.

The Depraved Poor?

2011-08-29T04:56:00.000-07:00

The other day I was perusing blogs and I came across this one that caused me to sit and stare at my computer completely dumbfounded. The author was apparently a prominent voice within some evangelical circles. He wrote in regards to a recent study by the American Sociological Association that says that less educated, low income Americans are leaving the church at double the rate of those with more education and higher incomes.

The author began by saying:

"It is past time to admit a very hard truth: America’s poverty problem is also a depravity problem. It is simply a fact that people who work hard, finish their education, get married, and stay married are rarely — very rarely — poor. There is no other proven formula for lifting Americans out of poverty. None. Food stamps don’t do it. Medicaid doesn’t do it. Soup kitchens don’t do it. Good intentions don’t do it. Hundreds of billions of dollars of transfer payments have not budged the poverty rate."

Wow, well that's nice for those of us lucky enough to be born into a home where the opportunities to accomplish these things are readily available. It's really too bad for all those other poor folk that face very real, complex, and depraved institutional, social, and economic roadblocks that keep them within the cycle of poverty. But, I'm sure hearing from someone in a higher class that they just need to pull themselves up by their bootstraps- and accept Jesus- is the way to end the cycle. I'm also having a hard time seeing the connection between depravity and something such as not finishing one's education. Am I missing something? As far as I know, depravity isn't confined to socioeconomic class.

The author goes on to say that the Cross is the only answer to poverty.

However, can you really say that the Cross is the only answer to poverty when you initially say hard work, finishing school, and staying married is the answer?

Is the gospel of Jesus the answer? Surely it is. But, the answer to the problem of poverty is found in kingdom values, not middle class values and social stability. Jesus came to bring good news to the poor, bind up the brokenhearted and set the prisoners free. The Cross frees us of our poverty. The gospel shows us a better way to live, though this has absolutely nothing to do with income, education, or possessions. The gospel provides a voice to the voiceless, covers the shame of the disgraced, and brings hope to the dejected. It says you are created in the image of God, you have worth. It says, even in your depravity, Christ died for you. It says hope is not in things but in a risen King. The gospel allows us to put our faith in a God that's able to paint a beautiful portrait of redemption through pain, sacrifice and despair.

When you view poverty through the eyes of the impoverished, using their own definition, it's no wonder they are leaving the American church in droves. Those that are poor define poverty less in terms of material possessions but as the lack of opportunity and voice and feelings of shame and worthlessness. If this is true poverty, than maybe when looking for solutions to how to alleviate it, we're asking all the wrong questions. Is the ultimate goal to bring someone to middle class status where we have a whole new set of issues, including pride, apathy, entitlement, materialism, and consumerism?

Those living in poverty aren't finding a home within churches built primarily on middle-class values. There are certainly many, many wonderful churches engaged in serving those in poverty. I wonder though, are we actually giving the marginalized a voice within the church? Do we choose leaders more often based on spiritual gifting or on education and status? What happens to those that feel like they have no voice? Quite often they disengage. Are these people running away from Jesus or are they running from Pharisaical churches? How many of our middle-class churches have become a place of comfort instead of a place of mission?

One of the more troubling assertions in the article, is the author's reflection about his time "in the trenches." He talks about how he spent several years working in mentoring programs, providing financially for people in need, and generally giving of himself. Through all this, he claims he was taken advantage of until the point where he realized that everything he had done was meaningless.

Ouch.

To say that we don't serve, we don't give of ourselves because "it doesn't work" sounds like quite the depravity problem to me.

We serve the poor, the unloved, and the marginalized because Jesus told us to and showed us how. We meet the physical needs of people because Jesus said in Matthew 25 that in taking care of these people, we are taking care of Him. I believe wholeheartedly as followers of Jesus we must work to alleviate poverty and work for all kinds of social justice. There is no doubt that when we look at the life of Jesus we see that we are called to do this. In Luke 4:18, Jesus quotes from Isaiah saying,

“The Spirit of the Lord is on me,
   because he has anointed me
   to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
   and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor."

Then, he goes onto say that today this Scripture is fulfilled through Him.

He is the answer.

Jesus brought freedom as no one else could. When he rode into Jerusalem days before his crucifixion, people were laying palms before him. They wanted a messiah that would free them from the oppressive Roman rule. But the Kingdom of God was not of this world, and it provided so much more than just freedom from tyrannical governments. The freedom that God gives goes so far beyond physical needs, yet we still serve people's physical needs as Jesus did during his ministry. The cure for poverty isn't in more money, but we give more money. The cure for poverty isn't in providing better education but we provide better education. The cure for poverty isn't in working at soup kitchens but we still work in soup kitchens. We do all these things and love Jesus through loving people.

We work to promote kingdom values, and we speak to the needs of the whole person.

We bring hope in despair, voice to the voiceless, and restore dignity to the marginalized. We don't shove middle-class values down their throats; we serve, we love, and we show the person of Jesus, who is the answer to the poverty of every heart, regardless of class or status.

When the Best's Not Best

2011-08-24T20:33:00.000-07:00

Several months ago I was at a party having a conversation with a couple moms with kids who were the same age as Emma, who was barely two at the time. One mom asked me where Emma was going to school. I paused for a moment, not quite sure I understood what she was asking. I awkwardly reminded her that Emma was only two. She didn't go to school. She and the other mom told me how their kids had been in school since they were eighteen months. Then they enlightened me about the best schools in the area and how you have to start them early if you want them to get into a good preschool.

They were preparing them to get into the best schools.

At two.

I get tired just thinking about what the next sixteen years of those kids' lives will be like.

I read an excellent article today about Finnish schools, which made me very proud to be a Finn. It turns out that Finland has made more of a contribution to the world than with saunas, Nokia, and Angry Birds. They're leaders in education and it's not because they crank out amazing standardized test scores. In fact, they don't even have standardized tests, apart from the matriculation exam taken at the end of their final year of school as a prerequisite to attend university. Yet, globally they're leading the way in math, science, and reading. They're not motivated by competition; more tax dollars do not go to schools that perform well, and students living in affluent areas do not have greater opportunities than those living in poor areas. In fact, they pride themselves in equality for all students. Schools are publicly funded and run by, get this, educators. It's not business people or politicians making decisions about education. It's educators. They trust their educators and let them do their jobs. Wow, how empowering that must be. I think of all my friends and family in education here in the States who are so disheartened because they're not allowed to just do their jobs. They're policed by bureaucrats that don't know the first thing about educating our children.

We've created a climate of competition that begins during the first couple years of our children's lives that is screwing them up. They are made to think that they're loved because of what they do, not who they are. When all you whisper to someone is achieve, achieve, achieve, you end up with a bunch of kids that don't give a flip about actual learning. In study after study, students admit to cheating because really, that's what we teach them with all our performance-based testing. Students don't even see it as a moral issue because the system (not the teachers) teaches that achievement is the most important goal, so use any means necessary to get ahead.

I don't want my kids to live like this. I don't want to parent like this. I just want my kids to be kids. I had a conversation today with a friend about how if I want to get Em in the preschool where I would like her to go next year, it might be a good idea to put her in a couple days a week this winter. It's hard to get a spot if she's not already enrolled. Seriously, it's out of control. I can't worry about it though.

I am a teacher, regardless of if I'm in a classroom ever again. I take full responsibility for my children. I will cultivate their potential in ways that speak to their entire being. I will teach them about what it means to love God and put others before themselves. We will learn together that it's better to serve others than to be served. My kids will not get lost in a system that some politician has hijacked. I pray that they grow up to be world changers, not because they have an edge over someone else, but because they follow a better way. I pray that they know the One who redeems lives, systems, and cultures. And I pray that Matt and I don't get caught up in all this nonsense in the name of wanting what's best for our kids.

Heaven, Hope, and Hollowing

2011-08-14T12:29:00.000-07:00

Evidently three is the age when kids start to figure out that with separation comes sadness. Usually when we leave my family in NY, Emma is sad but bounces back pretty quickly. She gets caught up in the excitement of riding in a plane or the anticipation of seeing other family members. It was not so this year as we left Syracuse. Initially she was fine, but as the plane landed she started crying and couldn't be comforted. She wanted to go back to her wawa's house. She wanted to see her cousins. As we got in the car for the ride home she continued to bawl. We gave my mom a call and Em sobbed to her about how much she missed her and how she didn't have a heart anymore. She couldn't watch the sunset because she was just too sad. It was pretty heart-wrenching. While I don't think it's healthy to wallow in emotions like that I do want her to know that it's okay to mourn. Being separated from ones you love is sad.

A week ago today Matt's grandpa passed away. This is the first time Em has lost someone to death. With her family in NY, she can take comfort in the fact that she can see them again at Christmas. She has a concrete time to look forward to. Seeing someone someday in heaven is not quite so concrete for a three year old. The night that he passed Matt was putting her to bed and she started crying because she wasn't going to see Big Papa anymore. Today as I was putting her down for a nap she kept asking me if I was going to get old. I kept explaining that everyone gets old. Her response was, "But not mommies, right?" I went on to say that getting old was a part of life. Mommies get old and even she will get old someday. Then her little chin started quivering and she said, "But I don't want you to go to heaven." Oh goodness. Break my heart.

I'm not really sure what to do with that. To me, heaven is hope. To her, heaven is separation. It makes me wonder if in trying to bring comfort to our kids, we're really skewing their views. I'm not sure. I know I don't want Em just praying a prayer sometime in her young life just so she thinks she can go to heaven someday and see those that she loves again. Of course I want her to follow Jesus. But, there's a huge difference between following Jesus and wanting to see loved ones again. Are there things that we should wait to explain to our kids until they can think more abstractly so as not to confuse them? Is heaven one of those things, at least when paired with death? Just thinking out loud. What are your thoughts?

The One Where My Kids Puke All Night

2011-08-12T09:23:00.000-07:00

The best thing about being a parent is not waking up at 2AM to the sound of your 14-month old throwing up. Nor is it the sound of his sister following suit 20 minutes later. It's not holding your child over a trash can as his little stomach heaves or holding him all night with the putrid smell of vomit penetrating your nose, all the while your spouse is doing the same for your other child.

Strangely enough though, one of the greatest things about parenthood is how it makes you and your spouse the type of people who can do these things without batting an eye.

Seriously, when the nurturing traits were handed out, I must have been skipped over because I'm not naturally a caregiver. I never went gaga over babies before I had my own. I tend to hold my breath around people that I know are sick. I remember some months back we had a friend in town that was in the car as Emma started tossing the large amount of cookies that she had just consumed. Kristin jumped right in to help clean up the massive amounts of disgustingness all over our car and our daughter. I tried to stop her several times, but she just continued like it was no big deal. Wow. I'm so not that girl. And my husband is so not that guy. In fact, Matt's the type that passes out when there's gory scenes in war movies. No joke.

But, there's something super hot about laying on the floor with your sick baby boy, knowing that your hubby is in the next room doing the same thing with your little girl. Funny how what's hot changes as you go through life with someone. I guess that's what building a family together is all about though. It's a team effort. Both spouses have to be willing to get their hands dirty. What this means will change on a day to day basis, but there has to be confidence on both sides that the other person is willing to step up for the other and for the family.

Real life.
Real love.
Real gross but real good.

Call Me Grace

2011-08-08T13:01:00.000-07:00

A few days ago while the kids were eating breakfast, Emma randomly told me she was sorry. It's never a good thing when your three year old apologizes and you have no idea what she's talking about. I asked her what she was sorry for, to which she replied, "For writing in marker all over your table."

Oh. Crap.

I saw the black permanent marker first. Then I looked to where she was seated and spotted the scribbles all over the side of my new, white table.

Dangit. What was going on in her head when she decided it would be a good idea to do something that she clearly knew was wrong?? What was she thinking!? We have had several conversations about only writing on paper and what a big no-no it is to write on furniture, clothing, or her little brother. And of all things, she decided to mess up my new. white. table.

Blast.

I went off on a tangent asking her all these same questions and bringing up these important points. I may have raised my voice. And used broad sweeping gestures with my arms to portray to her just how big my disappointment was. Until she burst into tears and said quietly, "Mommy, please call me grace."

What?

I had to stop in my tracks long enough to actually look at her and ask her to repeat what she said. Again, she said with a quivering lip, "Please call me grace."

Shoot.

I realized my daughter was asking for grace. Even though she knew what she did was wrong. Even though she didn't know the right words to say. I had to pause for a second. I mean, seriously, it's my new, white table. It only took a second though.

"You mean show you grace?" I quietly asked her.
"Yes, Mommy. Show me grace."

I hugged her and told her I would show her grace as God shows me grace. And I meant it.

How many times do I know something isn't right but do it anyway? How many times am I selfish and have an attitude that's just about what I want, regardless of how it affects someone else? Yet I am so incredibly aware of the grace of God in my life.

There's nothing quite like being humbled by your three year old.

A while later she came up to me again with a quivering lip, hugged me and said she forgave me. I was a little confused and asked what she forgave me for, to which she replied for writing on my table. Again, she had the words wrong, but I understood what she meant. I realized that although she had told me she was sorry, I hadn't actually said that I'd forgiven her. My goodness, two important lessons in a fifteen minute time span. I'd forgotten in my earlier conversation with my child how important it is to hear the words "you're forgiven" in the process of reconciliation. I know in my relationship with Matt how important it is for the other person to acknowledge that while yes, a wrong was done, there's something freeing in hearing "you're forgiven." It allows the other to know you're not holding something over the other's head and lets the relationship be restored from both party's perspective.

I hope the lines of communication always stay this open with my kids. I hope that God continues to teach me lessons through my children. I hope they'll look back on their childhood and see parents that strive to show them the love and grace of Jesus.

Extravagance

2011-07-26T20:11:00.000-07:00

When I was a teacher, my absolute favorite book to teach was The Great Gatsby. I loved exploring themes of excess and corruption, the mad grab for materialism, and the endless pursuit of this unattainable American Dream. Great discussions would ensue, and I always had several students tell me that this was their favorite book of the year as well. We all want something real to hold onto, yet we chase after all these fleeting things that don't satisfy. I don't think the problem is that we want too much though, I think we just settle for all the wrong things.

In our culture we're used to extravagance. We even come to expect it. I think God is even a God of extravagance. I just don't believe that His extravagance manifests itself through material things. We think we're blessed because we have so much stuff, but maybe we're mistaking distractions for blessings. Instead, I think He pours out his extravagance on us through His love and grace. God shows us His extravagant love by inviting us to be a part of the work that He's doing in the world. He doesn't save us so that we can maintain a comfortable existence, living as consumers within our little Christian subculture. When we do this, we end up just rotting, and instead of being "the aroma of Christ" to the world, we just stink. We become inwardly focused and do all we can to preserve ourselves, often in the name of preserving God's reputation.

I spent many of my college years and beyond questioning what being a follower of Jesus was all about. As a sophomore I toured with a drama team that traveled to churches on weekends during the school year and all summer. We probably went to fifty different churches that year. This was an eye-opening year for me as I saw Christianity as I had never seen (or at least noticed) before. I had so many conversations with people that spoke of a God that I honestly didn't understand. I remember listening to this man tell me about how they'll never have drums at their church because certain beats or rhythms were from Satan.

Um, what?

What does that even mean? Our team also received several bad reviews. You know, for things like showing up to a church wearing jeans. I alternated between wanting to scream and wanting to completely disengage. I spent the next few years trying to take down the walls that I put up that year from what I experienced in those churches. I know it sounds silly, that one year visiting some messed up churches had such an impact on me.

I suppose I tend to internalize a lot.

It was more than that though. I was also immersed in Christian college culture, which at times was great but other times contributed to the walls that I had built. Various circumstances left me battling cynicism and apathy, which is such a toxic cocktail. Looking back, however, I see the work of a loving God that allowed me to experience these things, allowed me to move from a place of comfort to a place of discomfort that would lead to change. I knew there had to be more to Christianity than just "getting saved" and then living life following strange rules and telling people about a safe God.

I started grad school at Cedarville a couple years after college and had a professor that completely rocked my world. My hope that God was working in our world in a substantive way was restored. He began in Genesis and explained how Adam and Eve were commanded to cultivate and take care of the world around them. God declared what He made as good, but then gave us the opportunity to cultivate what He had already made, to make advancements and improvements. After the Fall, all of creation was affected, not just individuals. We place so much weight on individual sin, but whole systems have been marred by sin. Hence the need for social and economic justice in our world. Individual relationships were not just affected by sin but whole people groups have been dehumanized. Hence the need for racial reconciliation. God, in His incredible extravagance, lets us be involved in this process. The Kingdom of God is not just about the future but is a present reality that God invites us to be a part of as His redemptive work in His world, whether that's cultivating beauty, working to restore dignity to those that have been marginalized, or any number of things that increase His image in our world. We're either working towards something or against it.

Whoa. I certainly didn't want to work against the Kingdom of God.

This sounded a bit different from not maintaining churches that are full of nice, neat people. Our lives are not about finding which church has the best music or preaching so that we can sit comfortably in our pews week after week. Our lives aren't about having the best theological arguments. In the Kingdom of God, life looks much different than in our world. Leadership is not about power but serving. We can give up our need to be right because it's not about us. We don't need to chase wealth but give with open hands.

I was absolutely floored with what I was learning. It started to make sense to me why it bothered me so much that Christians wouldn't drink but would tell a racist or gay joke. Why people didn't give a rip about the poor, but based their lives around acquiring wealth. However, it also magnified my cynicism for "maintenance Christianity," which I felt was all around me. I would end up in arguments with Matt about what I was learning and felt like I got blank stares when I tried to explain my thoughts to friends. I was so excited, but ended up feeling so utterly alone. I felt like I couldn't connect with friends and couldn't have a conversation with my husband that didn't end in complete frustration. I shut down in some ways and felt like I was in even worse shape than I was after that sophomore year of college. Yet at the same time, I still had hope that life could move beyond maintenance Christianity to mission.

Over the years, Matt and I reopened the dialogue and discovered that we are on the same page in more ways than we realized. Being in a place where we are now able to serve alongside each other and dialogue without worrying if it was going to explode into a heated fight is so freeing. The extravagant love of God has kept me from settling. The extravagant love of God has not allowed for me to become too comfortable, falling into the trap of American Dream Christianity. Each time we're heading in that direction, we find ourselves in places where we're forced out of those comfort zones. God has also showed us other people whose hearts He's stirring as well, who have encouraged and inspired us to keep listening and keep moving forward. We find ourselves now in the middle of the conversation, trying to discern what the next steps are. We're trying to determine how to go against our culture of hoarding all these good things for ourselves, and even for our family, and share this extravagant love of God that we've experienced.

Gonna Put the World Away for a Minute

2011-07-24T09:23:00.000-07:00

Growing up, my family spent many vacations boating in New England with another family. The nine of us, along with our dogs, would pile into their 27' Sea Ray. Sleeping arrangements were like a game of Tetris trying to figure out how to fit us all into every nook and cranny. I usually slept with my mom on the table that converted to a bed. We would always get funny looks piling out of the boat into the dingy to make our way into town. I'm sure the multimillion dollar yachts that frequent the area thought we were like the clown car at the circus. We always had a blast though, and those trips are some of the best memories that I have from growing up.

Now that we're all adults, my family still likes seeing how many people we can get into a small area. We've expanded quite a bit, so finding spaces to accommodate eight adults and eight kids is not easy. Thankfully, my brother's Mastiff is not invited on our vacations, however. Back when we had far fewer kids we tried Maine, but even then it was too difficult to constantly load everyone into all our cars and walk around quaint little towns. They suddenly seemed a lot less quaint when we arrived. The last couple years we wised up and just headed to NC where we could spend our days alternating between the beach and the pool. We stay in a condo that's smaller than our house, but somehow accommodates all sixteen of us, and a couple of my cousins' families stay across the street. The first couple days are always a bit chaotic, as we adjust to the cacophony of so many children excited to see each other. I love it though. The older kids dote on the little kids and the little kids adore the big kids. It's so fun to see them all together. During the day we swim, build sand castles, and skimboard, and at night we go crabbing and occasionally karaoke. Really, you can't get much better than that.

This year, the kids and I drove back home with my parents. Sixteen hours in the backseat of a mid-sized vehicle with my two hulking toddler car-seated children is something I don't want to do again anytime soon. I've done it before though and I'm sure I'll do it again. It's kind of like childbirth; you forget about the pains just enough to try it again. Now we have a week and a half of more time to hang out, sit by the pool, and just enjoy each other's company. The only thing missing is Matt.

Jax's Birthday Blog

2011-06-16T11:26:00.000-07:00

My dear, sweet Jaxie boy,
A year ago, I wondered what life would be like adding a baby boy to our lives. Today, I can't imagine life without you. Before we had your sister, I wondered what it would be like to love my child. I had always heard that there was nothing like the love a mother has for her kids. I learned just how true that was when I had Emma. When I found out I was pregnant with you, there was a part of me that wondered if it was possible to love another child as much as I could love her. Well, when I had you I learned that the Author of love created us in such an incredible way. Our capacity to love only increases the more we love. You see, we weren't created to only give out a certain amount of love and then not have anymore to give. We were actually created in a way that the more we love, the more we are able to love. I discovered because I had already loved your sister so much, when you were born my love for you was already so much deeper than I even thought possible. As our family continues to grow, I will never love you or your sister any less, but in fact, I'll have even more love to give! I thank God for teaching me more about love through you this year.
You are such a sweet, fun, good-natured little boy. I've loved watching you grow this year. At first you seemed like a quiet, laid back child, but I think you were just observing life first to figure out how to best tackle it. You laugh and smile so easily and giggle if we just look at you. You're quite ticklish and silly and enjoy spinning around and dancing in my arms. You love to give hugs and sloppy, wet kisses. You adore your daddy and get so excited when he comes home from work. Emma gives you a run for your money, but you're getting to the stage where you can almost hold your own with her. You both love to laugh together and steal each other's toys. Most mornings you wake up before her and I have to work to keep you from walking down the hall to bang on her door. Oh- and yes, you walk like a drunken pro. You took off at about eleven months and love to hang with the big kids. Your favorite toys to play with are balls, toys that make noise, and stuffed animals that you can hug. I love listening to you talk. I can't wait until I can actually understand what you're saying because you obviously have a lot to say. You babble almost as much as your sister talks, but the only words we can decipher are mama, dada, and wassat (what's that). Other than that you just do a lot of pointing and grunting.
I can't wait to see how much you're going to grow and change in this coming year. You bring so much joy to our family, and we love you more than you can even imagine. We thank God for the privilege of being your parents.

Love you so much,
Mommy

Happy Birthday Emma!

2011-04-28T13:39:00.000-07:00

My dear sweet Emma,
I can hardly believe that you're 3! today. Lately when I look at you, I can't help but stare a little because I can hardly believe what a big girl you are. You look so different than you did a year ago and act so different too. You're such a bright, beautiful, playful girl who is a natural leader. I thank God all the time for allowing me the privilege of being your mommy.
I love all the talk time we have together. You have so many questions and love learning new things. You also are quick to tell me all your three year old observations on life. I especially love your interpretations of new things that you learn about God. You can simplify things that adults find very complex. You say so many funny things that I wish I had been better at writing down- I need to work on doing that this year. You love to pretend and make up different scenarios. Lately you've been a waitress that uses anything that resembles a notepad and pen and ask, "Whatdaya want today?" I'm not sure who this brash waitress is that you are modeling yourself after, but it always makes me laugh. You also love to switch roles with me. You love acting like a mommy, and I think you'll make a great one many, MANY years form now.
You became a big sister this year and love your little brother so much. You always want to know where he is, and your face lights up in a big smile as soon as you see him. You can be a little too rough with him, but you can also make him laugh and smile like no one else. I love when I look back at the two of you in the car and you're holding hands. You also love having someone that you think you can boss around. I often have to remind you that you're not in charge of him. :) You also love giving him lots of hugs and kisses.
You love being around people. You're most definitely an extravert who can instantly be comfortable with kids that you just met. I admire that so much about you, and hope that we can continue to cultivate your love for people and easy going attitude towards them. There is one exception to this, however, and that is your best buddy, Dallas. You love playing with him so much, yet at the same time you guys drive each other absolutely crazy. It'll be interesting to see how your friendship develops as you get older. You are also confident while talking with adults. You're not the type to hide behind my leg when someone speaks to you, which is a great quality for such a young little lady.
Your family adores you. You have both sets of grandparents wrapped around your little finger along with aunts, uncles, and cousins that love spending time with you. I love seeing you with both sides of our family, and hope that you continue to be so close with them.
You, my dear, are so precious to me and I love you with all my heart. I can't wait to see all the new, exciting changes come in the life of my little three year old. Your daddy and I are so very proud of you. No matter how big you get, you will always be our baby girl.

Love you so much,
Mommy
.

The Middle

2011-04-07T17:55:00.000-07:00

I am not
who i was
5 years
5 months
5 minutes ago
time does not stand still
nor do i
i move forward
sometimes back
but i'm always
in the middle.
this brings me comfort
and reminds me to be graceful
as you are in the middle as well
you are not
who you will be
5 years
5 months
5 minutes from now.
we can walk in hope
that every step
forward or back
conforms us closer
to the image of
the One who IS
The Beginning, the Middle, and the End.

Debt to Love

2011-04-05T19:11:00.000-07:00

I never thought it would happen, but I've been brainwashed by Dave Ramsey. I resisted for a long time. We have friends that have been under the Ramsey spell, but I promised myself I would never cave. Sure, he had some good ideas, but who wants to actually implement them? Debt-free? Whatever. No one is debt free and why does it matter anyway? My generation knows little about sacrifice or delayed gratification because we have plastic that we allow to bring us both security and happiness. We're slaves, but well-fed ones. And really, I'm better off than most people my age. Thank goodness I married a nerd.

I've spent years as a slave to stuff without even noticing my chains. I've chosen to be a slave to marketers who tell me that their products will in some way make my life better, instead of going to the One whom I know makes life rich and meaningful. I've settled for instant gratification and laziness. It's not even that we had exuberant amounts of debt; we just don't have freedom. Matt was always worried about money and I was always guilty about spending it. On top of that, I've had this thought of being blessed to bless others swirling around in my head for months now. Except when it comes to money I'm pretty selfish, which is an ugly thing to be. I certainly don't want to be an ugly woman. I don't want money to be about accumulating stuff, I truly want it to be about how I can use it to love God and others. That thought is slowly making it from my head to my heart.

I started tracking where my money went on a monthly basis and it honestly makes me sick. We (mostly me) spend thousands of dollars every year on straight up ish. Seriously, I don't know what I've been thinking. I mean, there's weeks where I've spent $30 a week on smoothies. That's a direct result of not using my brain. When I swipe my plastic card, it doesn't register with my little brain that I'm actually spending money. It only registers when I look at our credit card statement and see just how much money has trickled down my throat. I never thought I would become a cash carrier because I get points on my credit card. I wasn't going to allow Dave Ramsey to take my points away from me! Cash can't compete with that. Except statistically people spend an average of 12-18% more when they pay with a card instead of cash. Hmmm... I could probably call myself a statistic. Dangit. I now pay with cash and feel the burn of the six dollar smoothie. It's not like I can't ever have my overpriced drinks either. We just stick to a budget now. We plan for where our money goes. We tell it where to go. It's been hard work figuring all this out but is actually incredibly rewarding and freeing. In a couple months we'll be completely debt free. Then the only debt we will have will be the debt to love others. To bless as we've been blessed.

We're planning ahead and are on the same page. We're both actually involved in the process, which also means we both have a say in where our money goes. We're having healthy discussions about money which essentially lead to a better marriage. Winning! It's a lifestyle choice that takes discipline but feels oh so good. Sort of. I mean, I know it'll bring peace that spending foolishly won't bring, and who doesn't want just a little peace?

Cultivation

2011-02-17T16:54:00.000-08:00

I've always been a big reader. As a young girl I remember spending long summer days by the pool with my best friend, reading books. Occasionally we would take a break from the hot sun by acting out some silly story that we made up, which always ended with all the characters falling into the pool. I think that officially qualifies me as a big dork, which is probably why I didn't continue this past elementary school. By the time high school came along I didn't do a whole lot of reading beyond what was required for school. I was much more interested in having a social life. When I decided to become an English teacher in college I was reintroduced to the literary world and once again hooked. I just love how much of life is opened up by reading. I love how stories teach us more about the world we live in. I love connecting with a book emotionally and knowing that I'm not alone. I love when someone else is able to articulate something that I could not put words to. I love how a book has the power change people and in doing that, change the world.
A few days ago I was in a study with some women where we were discussing how much we take for granted the fact that most of us were just expected to get a college degree. It was never a question of whether I would go to college, just where I would go. I have the same expectation for my daughter. At the same time, I can't help but think of all the women in our world that don't have those same opportunities. Many haven't had the luxury of even a basic education because of poverty or cultural barriers. I'm sure that so many of these ladies have incredible stories to tell but no means in which to do it.
I want to tell their stories.
Everywhere I look I'm hit with the idea that we are blessed in order to bless others. I want to bless women by giving them the opportunity to be heard.
How the heck do I do this??

I don't know who and I don't know how. All I know is that this little seed has been planted for years, and it keeps cultivating...and sitting....and cultivating and sitting. Maybe it's time to figure out how to increase my cultivating to sitting ratio.

This Ain't No Neverland

2011-02-01T20:14:00.000-08:00

Yesterday as I was putting away groceries, Emma picked up a few rolls of toilet paper, threw a piece of construction paper across them, grabbed a bear-friend and a couple of spoons, and had a big slice of birthday cake, Peter Pan style. She doesn't have to sit around brainstorming to come up with ideas to create something; she just does it effortlessly and often. It's so strange because I know that her mind comprehends new ideas in concrete terms. She doesn't have much ability to think through concepts abstractly, but she can take concrete images and view them in abstract terms. Weird. I wish I tackled life as creatively as my two-year old.

Rehabilitating an Achilles Heal

2011-01-14T19:36:00.000-08:00

I remember in college I had to write a paper that answered the question, "Must good art have form?" I argued that it did. I said that all art had form and boundaries, even if the artist was trying to avoid it. You look at a Jackson Pollock and see paint strewn all over the page, in a seemingly meaningless, chaotic way, but even that makes a statement. Even in it's lack of form it's contained within the boundaries of a canvas.

I'm the type of person that wants to create, but sometimes I feel so stuck in chaos that I'm unable to even attempt it. I need structure (ew, ew, ew). I need organization...in my closet, my desk, my life. I need scheduled times to just sit and play with my kids without feeling guilty that I'm not cleaning my house. I need a time to clean my house. I need times to be quiet and times to be silly. I hate to admit it, but in the times where I'm disciplined and structured I thrive. Even my creativity thrives. I just have such a hard time getting to that place.

Today's been a game-changer though. Every area that's been stressing me the most grabbed my attention today. And so another season of my on again, off again blogging begins.

The stress factors...

Sleep

I am completely sleep-deprived. I can't think straight. I can't talk straight. I look at life through an overly emo lens when I'm tired. Not long ago, I told Matt that I feel like there's this epic battle for our souls going on. He just laughed. Ahhh, the crazy ramblings of a sleep-deprived wife (Though deep down he knew exactly what I meant. His take on things probably wouldn't be so dramatic, however. :)). Anywho, we've been going to bed around 12:30, and then I've been getting up a couple times a night to nurse and change Jax's soaking wet jammies. Between taking care of the baby and laying in bed trying to get back to sleep, I can't imagine that I get much more than a few hours. I wake up every morning wanting to cry. I was just saying this in passing to a friend today who suddenly looked at me like I had three heads and said, "Wait, what??" and started telling me how messed up that was and that I totally need to just let him cry it out. I'm pretty sure she literally thought I was nuts. But, sometimes it just takes a sane person to look at you like you're crazy for a second to realize, yup, I am crazy. Tonight Jaxie-baby gets to wear pricey diapers that won't leak all over and attempt to sleep through the night. We can do this baby; yes we can!

Organization

My house is driving me nuts. I pick up everyday, but that's about as far as I get before it's a mess again. Mostly because everything doesn't have a place. This never used to bother me until I lived with my good friend, Kari, who is an organizational goddess. I swear, the girl's amazing. You couldn't have put two more opposite people together to share a room (which we were both quite nervous about) but it ended up being a great experience (for me anyway) where I learned that keeping things tidy actually did have benefits! Who knew? It's still not something that comes naturally to me though, so unless I'm able to really work at it, I suck. Way back when, this wouldn't have mattered, but now it drives me insane. Today at the gym I happened to glance at a magazine that was all about getting organized. It was just what I needed to get me on the right track. I made my trip to Target and have high hopes of tackling it tonight. There's nothing like a good Friday night closet-cleaning to start the weekend. Yes, I'm totally serious.

Excuses

Ok, so I read blogs. Yes, I get made fun of for this, but whatever. Some people like reality t.v., I like reality reading. I know, total dorko. So be it. I was reading a blog today that was talking about how to know whether or not this is truly a season in your life to create or if it's something that needs to be held off on because of other responsibilities. While yes, I do have responsibilities, I think I do use that as an excuse. Especially if I really view art in the sense that I say I do. If life is art than I'm doing a horrible job of cultivating and creating what's around me. Creation is an ongoing process that I feel like I've been stifling. Even in my parenting, I want to be creative. I want my kids to embrace creativity. I just need to stop making excuses and actually live what I speak.

I know I'm not going to get it all together in a day. I'm okay with that. I know it's not about getting it all together. I know that if I go about life with that attitude I'll fail...over and over and over again. I just want to be in a place where all the clutter is stripped away and I truly can be free. Free to give of myself- my 100% and not feel the weight of all this silly stuff. And I know that that only comes when I'm surrendering myself daily to the ultimate Creator and the only One who can give me freedom...even in chaos.

Saturday's Friday Four

2010-11-20T20:26:00.000-08:00

All of our highlights are going to follow a theme, seeing as though all we had time for this week was moving back into our house and packing for NY. So here goes:

Matt: Having a bunch of guys come help him with all the finishing touches around the house. It was nice to know that there were friends and family that were willing to interrupt their own busy lives to help us. He knows how precious evenings are, so for people to come out and help on multiple nights meant a lot to him.

MY Matt highlight on a much more shallow level- :)

He dominated the phone lines to get us the only pendant lights that we agreed on, which might I add, were not even for sale. We've been looking for a matching chandelier and pendants for a while and haven't been able to agree on any. We finally got a chandelier but there weren't any matching pendants. Matt had to contact the corporate office, who sent him on a wild goose chase that eventually lead us to the beautiful pendants that will hang from our ceiling in 5-7 days. Thanks, babe!

Emma: Since I forgot to ask her, I'll have to guess that hers was all the time she got to spend with her wawa as her mommy was M.I.A. working on the house. She loves her wawa time.

Jax: Last week Jaxie found his lip, this week he found his toes. He loves grabbing on and rolling 'round.

Me: After almost eight months out of our house, we finally moved back in this week- obviously my highlight! I just like to sit on the floor in out great room and look around at how pretty it is. I mean, how many people get to live in their first house for a year, figure out everything that they would like to change and make all the changes at no cost. There are some benefits to toxic gases being emitted through your walls! Thanks Chinese drywall. We owe you, except not really. That would almost be akin to Stockholm syndrome.

Sunday's Friday Four

2010-11-14T20:31:00.000-08:00

I'm adding some of my own observations to Matt's today. Since I'm writing it, I can do stuff like that!

Matt: Spending a lot of time with Emma this week. She was super excited when he came home from work every night, which isn't always the case. There's been times when she's just downright mean to him. Not this week though.

I've noticed how this sneaky thing called family keeps interrupting my husband's life, and he's been powerless to do anything about it. He really wants to get into shape (Though he already is in good shape, might I add.) but doesn't have a lot of time to do it. He works out during lunch so he can spend time with us at night but tries to go for a quick run as soon as he gets home from work. Twice this week his plans were thwarted, and I have to say one of my highlights has been how he's responded to the interruptions- because I'm not sure I would have had the same response. Tuesday night he came home and was about to go running but Emma looked at him and said, "Daddy, pwease don't go wunning. Don't you want to come hang out with me in the basement?" HA! He explained that he's be right back and then they could play. Then he changed his mind. He just couldn't resist his little girl's desire to spend time with him. Emma put on a baseball helmet (yeah I don't know) and they played ping-pong. So sweet. Then he skipped out on another night of running to come to the park with us. Emma loves going to the park with Daddy because she gets to do all the dangerous things that Mommy won't let her do. I almost had several heart attacks watching her climb things that she was way too little for, but Daddy was always there to catch her just in case.

Emma: She's had three parties since last Friday, so my girl's been in heaven playing with all her little peeps. Plus, it's been gorgeous in FL lately so all of said parties have been outside. Extra bonus.

Jax: Jax has found his lower lip and loves sucking on it nonstop. Smiling, laughing, crying- regardless of what he's doing it's the ultimate baby soother/entertainer.

Kelly: Can we say stainless steel appliances upgraded at no cost?? I never thought I'd be so excited about appliances, but I can't stop talking about the great deal I got on a range in the beginning of the week and an even better deal on a beautiful french door fridge at the end of the week. Now if only I could learn how to cook!

Woe is She

2010-11-11T12:23:00.000-08:00

My poor Em had her first taste of the real world today. We were at a play area where she usually knows most of the kids and runs around like a maniac. Today though, there were two other little girls there that she didn't know, so she just hung back with me while I fed Jax. After several minutes of watching her quietly watch the girls longingly, (seriously, she looked like a puppy waiting to be taken home from the pet store) I suggested that she go introduce herself. That was all the prompting it took for her to walk over.

And then I watched her get shot down.

Crash. And. Burn.

One of the girls said, "No! We're playing," and proceeded to push her away.

She stood there for a moment looking like she was going to burst into tears, and then walked back to me.

Curses! She's only two! Isn't it a little early to deal with playground bullies?? I mean, I'm used to the not sharing or throwing fits about some perceived playground injustice (where she's often the culprit), but to see my kid being left out and knowing that she felt the sting of it just broke my heart.

She sat quietly next to me and continued to watch the girls. Then her daddy came to see us, expecting to hear her jovial, "Daddy!" followed by a big hug, but instead he got an embarrassed look while she just sat. And then decided to try again. And was rejected again.

Dangit.

Aah well. Such is life. I guess two's old enough to learn to pull yourself up by the bootstraps and keep going. I think she'll survive to play another day. Hopefully, there was a lesson learned too. We talked about it on the way home, and I reminded her to remember what if felt like and that she needs to include everyone when she's playing. Except from what I remember about child development, she's not really in the empathy stage yet. Stink. Regardless of her ability to empathize, she is old enough to know right from wrong. I hope when she finds herself on the other side of the situation, she's able to make the right choice.

WYSIWYG

2010-11-10T14:01:00.000-08:00

My sophomore year of college I was on a drama team with five other people that traveled around one summer in a van together, putting on programs at churches and camps. One afternoon we were all talking along the lines of how we wanted to just be real with the people we encountered. One friend turned to me and said, "You know, WYSIWYG." I stared back at her in utter confusion. Nope, didn't know anything about this wysiwyg. As she continued to look at me as if I was a complete moron, she tried to rally the troops in support, expecting everyone to be with her on this whole WYSIWYG train. Everyone else was staring just as blankly as I was. Finally, in complete exasperation she explained, "WYSIWYG...what you see is what you get."

Oooooh.

Well that made a whole lot more sense after the explanation, and I have since used the expression often, and expressed my own exasperation for any fool who does not know what I'm talking about.

Last night Matt and I were talking about one of our good friends who we both agreed that we really enjoy being around. As we tried to nail down why that was, we concluded it came down to he's a WYSIWYG. He's just completely comfortable in who he is, and so he makes other people comfortable too. He doesn't try to impress people, and if someone doesn't like him he's not going to sweat about it. He's a confident dork, which we determined to be a great combination.

This doesn't come naturally for most. I was reading a passage from James about how people were showing favoritism to the rich that visited their gatherings. James was a little confused because these same people that were being treated better than the poor were the same people that were swindling them and taking them to court for all their worth. Seriously? Why do we do stuff like that? It's like we start acting like morons when even the slightest possibility of getting pushed up the social or financial scale emerges. Our own pride starts rearing it's ugly head.

So glad we don't have to live like that. So glad we can teach our children that Jesus shows us a better way. We don't have to impress; we can just be WYSIWYGs. Through Jesus we are completely loved, completely accepted, and completely free. So here's to the nerds, dorks, dweebs, and even the coolest of the cool kids, laying it all down at the cross, trusting Him to be the only thing good worth shining through us anyway.

Seeing vs. SEE-ING

2010-11-08T13:29:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago as I was getting into my car, a man came up to me and asked if I had seventy cents. As I don't carry cash with me, I truly didn't have any change to spare. He quickly turned away with my quick response and started walking away. He didn't expect me to give him any money. He had been brushed off many times before, I could tell as soon as the words came out of my mouth. In that split second I realized that I had completely looked at him without seeing him at all, as if he had no value. I quickly reconsidered and asked what he needed the money for, to which he replied that he just wanted something to eat. Since I had no kids with me and McDonald's was a five second drive, I looked him in the eye and told him I'd be happy to go get him something to eat. (Aside to my mother, so I don't get yelled at: I was safely in my car and he was a good distance away, as well as about 130 lbs. soaking wet. At no point was I in any danger. :)) He returned my smile with gratitude and waited in the parking lot as I got him his food. This was an easy situation that cost me nothing, apart from the $5 value meal, but made me think. What if I took that split second to reconsider the value of every person I talked to before responding to them? What if I really saw the people that I interacted with? What if I viewed them as the people of worth that they are, created in the image of God. What if I didn't roll my eyes (on the inside, of course) at the middle school boy acting obnoxious in Sunday school or the high school girl trying too hard to get noticed by boys. What if I just loved them right there in their present situation? What if I didn't cringe at the story of the crotchety old person that thinks the world's problems revolve around whether or not they sing a praise chorus written in 1973. What if I let the people around me not feel like they need to try on another persona in order to have my approval?

What if I let my own guard down and let people see me just the way God created me to be?

What if I loved because I was first loved?

What if we all did this? What could our homes, our churches, our communities look like?

Sunday's Friday Four

2010-11-07T19:13:00.000-08:00

Ok- so I'm a little behind...

Emma- My girl transitioned out of her crib at fourteen months when she started jumping out and consequently, falling on her face. The transition only consisted of moving her mattress to the floor, but at her grandparent's house she upgraded to a toddler bed. This week, she got another upgrade, so when we move back into our house next week it will be with Emma's twin size bed. It's kind of a big deal.

Jax- Jaxie-boy has officially rolled over from belly to back and back to belly as of this week. He's still working on not getting his little arm stuck underneath him, but he usually manages. Good thing he has a big sister than is always ready to pull it out from under him when necessary.

Matt- Every time I get on Facebook I feel like someone has a new status update on how they just ran a marathon or half marathon or 5k or 10k or yada yada ya. I don't have the running bug, and I don't understand it. Matt, on the other hand, has drank the Kool-Aid. He loves running and wants to do it all the time. Since he really enjoys it, last Saturday I agreed to run a 5k with him and another couple. Matt was all chipper when the alarm went off at 6:30 in the morning and did not appreciate my lack of enthusiasm. He ended up running a personal best and we won in our category. Holla.

Me- It's no secret that I've been having trouble with Em lately. There were days this week where I felt like ALL I did was discipline and have an attitude from her thrown in my face. But, one night in particular I was reminded just how blessed I am. It was nothing big, but just a simple reminder of how being a mom is the best thing in the world. Matt's been putting Em to bed while I feed Jax, and then I go see her when I'm done. One particularly difficult day when I went to say goodnight she asked me to lay down. We talked for a while and when I started getting up to leave, she put her arm around my neck and whispered, "Don't leave." Now, this wasn't anything unusual, but at that moment it just melted my heart. No matter how frustrating raising a toddler can be, I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm so glad that I'm the one who gets to spend day after day with her and teach her about life. I love my two sweet children so much.

Halloweekend

2010-11-01T11:21:00.000-07:00

Em's a bit tall for her age, so when it came time to get her Halloween costume, it was a bit short. I looked everywhere for a size up but to no avail. She really wanted to be Jessie and I really didn't want to try to find everything that I would need to make it myself. That also meant that I had spent $17 on a costume that she wasn't going ever wear again. So, she wore it all weekend. Friday night she wore it to a high school football game, Saturday night she wore it to a party, and Sunday night she finally wore it trick-or-treating. For less than six dollars a day, I think I'm actually quite thrifty. Jax, on the other hand, got a super cute hand-me-down, but without the pressure of having to get my money's worth, he only wore the costume to take some pictures. Poor boy would have been a sweaty mess if he had to wear it any more than that.

Keeping up with the news and pop culture, Matt went to the party Saturday night as a Chilean miner while the I was a Real Housewife of Polk County.

Then for Em's final night wearing her costume, I had her go all out spraying her hair red like Jessie's. I probably should have thought that through more. A sweaty two year old taking and putting on a hat all night was bound to end up a big red mess. Oh well. She's never really been a hair girl anyways.

We were the trick-or-treaters that everyone loves getting at their doorstep. You know, a pack of almost twenty people, with ravishing children, all sticking their baskets up yelling, "Me too! Me too!" with a chorus of parents yelling from the street, "Don't forget to say thank-you!" It's always fun to listen to conversations while being with so many kids.

A favorite from last night was when one little boy informed his friends that he'd heard that Halloween was the devil's holiday. He asked his buddies why this would be, and one shrugged his shoulders and answered, "Maybe all the candy?" The other boys seemed to think this was a logical conclusion.

Now to figure out what to do with all this candy laying around. Yuck. I had so much sugar this weekend, I'm to the point where it doesn't even taste good anymore. Yet, I continue to eat it for some reason. I think it's time to detox.

Friday Four

2010-10-29T07:13:00.000-07:00

One of my friends started posting each member of her family's highlight of the week on Fridays. She calls it "Friday Five". I thought it was a great idea so I'm stealing it for my family of four. :)

Matt: Seeing you and the kids at random times during the day this week.

(Ummm...I could also make this into a game of Fact or Fiction. Was that really the highlight of your week, babe??)

Anywho...

One afternoon I got a text from him telling me he was going running, and since we were nearby, I decided to see if I could find him. Sure enough we found him shirtless and sweaty in the parking lot where he runs. Just as I suspected. Even better, he treated me to a smoothie. Then as I was climbing the stairs at the gym yesterday I got a whack on the butt. Though I workout alongside some creepers sometimes, I doubted anyone would be willing to be that creepy- except for my husband! Sure enough, it was him.

Me: Going on a date with Matt last night.

Aaaahhh- I'm glad that after five years of marriage I still get excited to go out on dates with Matt. All we did was go to Home Goods and Lowe's, but anytime I get the chance to shop without kids is awesome. We could walk around leisurely, without alternating between looking at an item and making faces at a baby to keep him from crying, or telling a toddler that she shouldn't eat random pieces of candy off the ground. Oh- and we also got frozen yogurt, which would be a highlight of the week even if I was eating it by myself trapped in a glass bubble. Having Matt with me made it that much more enjoyable though.

Em: Jumping and playing in the Jeep at the beach.

This actually happened in a backyard instead of by the ocean but that's okay. I'm glad that she likes imaginative play. We went to an annual pumpkin painting party at a friend's house where she got to play with a bunch of other kids, jump on their trampoline, and cruise to the beach in a broken down Jeep toddler toy. I got to chat with other adults. Win/win.

Jax: Going to the doctor.

Okay, this is probably a stretch, seeing as though the poor boy had to get three shots, but let's roll with it. His sister got stickers, which made her happy, and a happy sister makes for a happy little brother. At least when the sister is prone to biting. We found out that he's measuring in the 43rd percentile for weight and the 39th for height. This is great because it means he'll be able to stay in all of his clothes for longer. No need to pack up the 3 month old clothes yet. My peanut will have plenty of tine to wear them out.

Veggie Tales

2010-10-26T18:23:00.000-07:00

There's something that will never be found on my blog. Ever. It's a staple for most mommy blogs but not mine. At least not without a miracle from God.

I will never post a recipe.

I love food.
Truly. Madly. Deeply.

But cooking.
Ew.
Hate it.

For as much as I love food, I should like to cook. I think about food. I make plans around food. I'll drive miles out of my way for food. Just don't ask me to cook. I have two dishes that I make with relative success, but beyond that, I'm a hot mess. I manage to ruin every recipe I get my hands on. I used to think Matt just wasn't really a "dinner person" until we moved in with his parents. Turns out he likes dinner just fine as long as his mom's cooking. Though he'd never admit it, he makes his plans on whether or not to eat dinner based on who cooked.

A typical conversation of ours goes is as follows:
"Are you planning on eating dinner?"
Pause.
"Who's cooking?"
"I was going to make _______ (insert anything)."
"Hmm, I had a pretty big lunch. I'm not that hungry."

So the story goes.

I can't say that I blame him, but still, how's a girl supposed to improve if she never has the opportunity?

Here's the other problem though. I hate touching raw meat. I hate even looking at it. The smell, the texture, everything about it makes me sick. When it's cooked I'm as carnivorous as can be, but if I have to handle it myself I can't get it out of my mind what it looked like before being cooked. I mean, the feel of a once living being's flesh between my fingers makes me want to vomit. When I'm chewing, all I can think about is how gross it is that I'm eating something that was alive. Weird, I know. What's weirder is the fact that I rarely have these thoughts if the meat was cooked by someone else. Give me a nice steak marsala from Carrabba's and I'm a happy girl. Have me season some chicken before Matt throws it on the grill and I'm done. Cooking almost makes me want to be a vegetarian. Not a real vegetarian- just a when-I'm-cooking-vegetarian. I've run the idea by Matt but he's not for it. He likes his meat, but since he doesn't like my cooking to begin with, what's the difference, right? Right. Maybe meat has been the problem all along though. What if there's a great vegetarian cook trapped inside of me, desperate to get out?

So, with that said, I need some good vegetarian recipes to ruin.
Can anyone help a sista out?

Life As Three Seconds From Insanity

2010-10-22T12:19:00.000-07:00

Life as art? Hahaha- Monday's post mocks me here on Friday. This week it's more like life as surviving without poking my eyes out. Or life as three seconds away from losing my sanity. Or life when your child's your thorn in the flesh. Yep- it's been one of those weeks.

Em has always been prone to tantrums. She's had some doozies but had been doing really well for quite a while. She had a rough patch in the time period right before she could really talk and her method of communication became the freak-out. Then when Jax was first born she threw some hissy fits, which have continued off and on since June. The past month or two have been hard, but we've tried to be consistent with her when I know life is pretty inconsistent right now. When Matt's gone (like this week) the fits usually peak, but this week...oh- a total mountaintop experience. I mean, my girl peaked.

It started off at the gym when she decided to bite her bro. On the head. Poor sweet, unassuming Jax who smiles 90% of the day started wailing as I had just put him down to get a diaper out of my bag. I knew instantly that it had to have been the result of a bite, so when I saw his wet forehead with huge teeth marks in it I wasn't surprised. I handed my sobbing Jax over to the childcare worker, spanked my Em, and subsequently watched her fall into the tantrum to end all tantrums. She freaked. She screamed, she cried, she flailed. It was awful. And she did it the whole way out the door. So there I was with a baby in one arm, trying to pick up my psycho two-year old with the other arm. It's a darn good thing I've been working out. We got about halfway to the car (it's a looooong way to the car) when I put her down and just started walking. This was a great lesson for me to learn. Two-year olds don't realize that they won't really be left behind. Muhahaha. I used that trick more than once this week. Yeees.

Back to the biting though. Unfortunately, it's become a pattern. As in, she's bitten her little brother in the toes twice before the head incident and just last week bit her best buddy on the cheek. So, I did something that no parent ever wants to do. I bit my child. The whole idea of "this is going to hurt me more than it hurts you" was so true in this situation. It was an awful feeling. Very calmly, on the ride home, I told her what I was going to do and explained to her why. Then I tested it on my own arm to figure out the balance of not too hard, but hard enough to have an impact. I called a friend who had done the same thing and whose child never bit again. Then I swallowed down my own tears and went up to her room. I guess this is what they call tough love. I don't like it at all.

The week didn't improve either. She threw tantrums all week and I truly don't know what to do. She just did again this afternoon. I've tried everything. I stay calm even when I'm seething inside. So what in the world can I do? What's the one thing I haven't tried yet? There's gotta be something. Is it just me? Am I just a terrible parent? Oh my word. HEEEEEEELLLLLLLLPPPPPPP MMMMMMEEEEEEEEEE.

Life as Art

2010-10-18T12:23:00.000-07:00

Emma's really into coloring these days. She's pretty good at it too, for a two-year old. I love watching her creativity develop. She'll draw circles all over the page and tell me that she made a giraffe. She likes her art abstract. My nine-year old niece called me yesterday for advice on a monologue she's going to use to audition for community theater. I hope she continues to seek out opportunities to be part of the telling of great stories.

All of life has some element of art to it. I love that God has placed this innate desire in our hearts to create, to make things beautiful, to tell rich stories. To be a part of something. God is the ultimate creative genius, but he lets us be a part of creation. He's been doing it from the beginning. Even after forming the world and proclaiming it good, he allowed Adam and Eve to continue with the work, to cultivate the space around them, using their own minds and hands to make it even better. What's even more amazing is that he knew we would sin and mess things up, and he still allowed us to be part of the creative process. What artist lets amatuers take his work and add their own touches? A generous and confident One that knows that He cannot be outdone. No matter how good or bad the other artists are, they ultimately just highlight the works of the Original. When I backpacked in Europe, I visited countless churches and cathedrals and saw great works of art, but nothing made by man compared to the Meditteranean coast or mountains of Austria. I was literally awestruck by the greatness of God while walking the mountains of Cinque Terra, where every turn produced an even more breathtaking view. And the God who created all of this invites us to be a part of the continual creative process.

Life is constant motion. We all have our own little space that he's given us to cultivate and keep. He's given me gifts and talents to use along the way, but my whole identity is secured in Him. I don't have to be anxious about not getting it right or failing. I don't have to operate in crisis mode, like I was in this post. Even when life seems mundane, whether it's cleaning the house or learning to raise my children, it's all the work of taking something as it is and cultivating it's potential. I just have to be faithful with the palette He's put before me and trust that He will make it into something beautiful.

Where It All Began...

2010-10-15T11:03:00.000-07:00

Six years ago these kiddos were merely a twinkle in our eyes.

Six years ago, Matt pulled into the parking lot of the Cedarville gorge, took my hand, and asked, "Want to go on an adventure?" Such a loaded question.

There are several gorges where we lived, but this particular one had significance to me from our college days. One of my first days as a freshman, I went on a class walk there, where I had my first, awkward conversations with people that would become my friends. I remember hiding from the police with random people after bridge-jumping at this gorge. Throughout my college years I would often go running there with my girlfriends, sometimes ending up just laughing together or swimming in the deeper parts of the creek. Matt and I would take walks there together, where I learned of our shared love of nature and that he could identify plants and knew the names of the each layer of the rock walls. There were times that I would escape to the gorge to have a good cry by myself or look for God when I had trouble seeing Him in the middle of my Christian college. I loved it there.

But back to the proposal...

We got out of the car and he ~~dragged me~~ lead me through the trail, tripping over roots and rocks, almost breaking our ankles. A flashlight probably would have been a good idea, but I suppose a pitch-black rocky trail was more our style. We got to a staircase that was lit with candles that lead to a rose-covered blanket with an open Bible and two bottles of Jones soda. He read I Corinthians 13 to me, said lots of nice things that I can no longer remember, and got down on his knee and asked me to marry him.

I'm so glad I said yes.

Homecoming

2010-10-14T11:08:00.000-07:00

A couple weeks ago we headed back to Ohio for the first time since leaving two years ago. It was Matt's five year reunion and since I'm always up for a sixteen hour drive with two young children, on we went. Matt's mom was nice enough to make the trip with me, so we could take extra time and Matt wouldn't have to take off more time from work. We split the trip up, stopping at Joel and Terri's in Atlanta. We got to spend an entire day with Terri, doing what three women with two children do- shop, eat, and shop some more. Em and Jax are well trained for such excursions. The next morning we were on our merry way.

It's always funny stepping back on Cedarville's campus. Not much has changed; the Cedarville culture that existed while I was there is still in place. The students still look the same, dress the same, and use the same lingo. Case in point- while out to dinner at Chili's the night before with my sister-in-law and a couple of her friends, one girl was describing a possible crush-worthy boy and used the same inflection as I remember my own friends using while saying said boy was "quality." Yep. So many Cedarville boys in my day were described as qual-it-y during a quality conversation in the dorm while stuffing our faces with pretzels and nutella. Those were the days.

We got to catch up with lots of friends at the alumni soccer game where all the once soccer girlfriends were toting our now soccer babies and watching our almost thirty-year old husbands try not to injury themselves on the field. I also got to have lunch in Yellow Springs with two of my favorite people from college whose lives are so totally different from mine right now, but whom I'll always be able to connect with. I love relationships like that.

We were able to get a couple fall(ish) activities in on Friday with the kids. And by fallish activities I mean going to an apple orchard that wasn't producing any apples to pick. Boo. We got a few cute pics of the kids with some gourds though. It was the best we could do. We also took the kids to where it all began- the gorge where Matt asked me to marry him. Actually, today is six years to the day that he proposed. One of these days I'll blog about that.

Saturday afternoon was a washout. It rained all during the soccer game, which is not fun in the Ohio cold. Literally two minutes into the game Jax and I called it quits and sat in the car. Nursing in a cold rain is not on my bucket list. All plans of catching up with people that we had missed thus far were ruined. We also made the mistake of attending Matt's reunion. Unlike my involved-in-campus-life friends that I graduated with, we forgot that Matt's friends were all too cool for such events. Can't say we knew more than 3% of the 250 people that attended. Oh well.

At 4:30 the next morning Emma woke up coughing, which woke Jax up. With two kids and a mommy that couldn't go back to sleep we did the only logical thing- we hit the road. We were stopping in Atlanta again and since Matt hadn't seen Joel and Terri on the way up, we thought we'd get there in time to actually spend some time with them. A good choice on our part. Along with being able to hang out, we were able to have Pinkberry for the third time that week. Score.

I think we might attempt the trip again in May for Tim's graduation. Too bad we didn't go to school in a more exotic location. Or at least not in a cornfield. Note to self: when it comes time for my children to attend college, think Westmont.

Sickest. Story. Ever.

2010-09-17T11:20:00.001-07:00

If you're squeamish you should just stop reading. I swear, this will make you throw up. Mom, I guarantee you can't handle this post. You will throw up in your mouth. And if you don't throw up, you'll at least look at your little granddaughter differently, and I wouldn't want that. She really likes you. I'm not sure what your feelings towards her will be if you continue. Seriously, if you're still reading, let me just say you were warned. It is officially out of my hands.

Today Emma kept telling me to look in her mouth. She had it wide open and I obliged but didn't see anything. I turned back to what I was doing but she wouldn't let it go.

"Wook Mommy, wook!" Distracted, I turned around again to see. Nothing.

"What Em? I don't see anything. What am I looking at?"

"A boogie!"

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. Gag me with a wooden spoon; I thought I was going to vomit all over my child.

It gets worse.

"That's gross, Em. Don't ever do that again."

"It's not gwoss, Mommy! It's yummy!"

Oh. My. Goodness.

Are you kidding me? What do you do when you get visions of your two year old being the completely socially awkward kid in grade school? How do you handle it?? If I make a big deal out of it, I know she'll just think it's funny and keep doing it. Of course I have to address it. Are you stern or playful about it? I chose the stern route. I don't know. We'll see. I know she has no chance if another kid sees her do it (well, in a few years at least). I knew a kid in late elementary school who was a boogie-eater and it's forever burned into my memory. I knew him throughout high school too, but the first thing that comes to mind, to this day, when I think of him is booger. When I got a facebook friend request from him, it was the first thing that popped into my mind. Poor guy. I can't let that happen to my Emma.

Let Mama Sleep

2010-09-15T11:14:00.001-07:00

For the last several days I've felt mostly like this

Because this little guy

has been doing VERY little of this

Back in college I used to pull all-nighters on a fairly regular basis. Some would say I tend to procrastinate. I say I work best under pressure. My first year teaching, I would stay out until midnight and then have to leave by 6:40 in order to get to school ~~by the skin of my teeth~~ on time. Some would call this irresponsible. I call it young and in love (which usually equals stupid and irresponsible). In those days, I could function fairly well with only a few hours of sleep. I had to. There were tests to take, papers to assign. Now I can hardly form a coherent thought, much less articulate it, when I don't get enough sleep. This past week Jax has been waking up every two hours...and then staying awake for 45 minutes...which equals much less sleep than I require. Matt was out of town, so I was at it alone for three nights. When he returned I was hoping for him to have grown some soothing breasts, but alas, he hadn't. He did hold him on his chest much of one night though, a huge help. I'm just really hoping for a good night soon. Last night he only got up twice (but didn't go back down well), which was better, but at this point I'm so exhausted that I just really need a decent stretch.

He is such a sweet baby though. During the day he's a momma's dream. He smiles as soon as I look at him and laughs just as easily. He's just a chill little guy that I love so much. I just wish he'd sleep through the night.

Heard in My Hoopty

2010-09-13T17:58:00.000-07:00

"Mommy, I want to go blueberry picking. I want to go blueberry picking so much."

"It's okay, Jax, it's okay. We're almost home. It's okay, it's okay... Be quiet, Jax! Jax be QUIET!"

"Mommy, the man (on the radio) said BUS!!"

"Mommy, the man said God!"

"I wanna hear our favorite song! OoooooOOOh, ooohhh somfin beautiful!"

"I wuv you, Mommy."

"Aaaww, you love me, baby?"

"Mmm..I love watermelon!"

"I want to go to Starbuck's. I want madewines and ice water."

"I want a cookie. I want a cookie so bad."

"Wook Mommy! The man's dwiving your car!"

"What did you learn about in church today, Em?"

"Um, Jesus."

"Oh you learned about Jesus? Anything else?"

"Mary...everywhere that Mary went."

"There's a rainbow. God did it?"

"There's a bird. God did it?"

"There's the car wash. God did it?"

Throwback

2010-09-09T20:24:00.000-07:00

I've always been a pretty easygoing, carefree person.

Except...

for a period of time around the end of college.

Those first years out of school were a tumultuous time for me as I tried to sort through a lot of different issues in relationships, my faith in God (or sometimes lack there of), and figuring out what my identity really was found in. There were times when I literally felt like I was going crazy, but looking back, the words "But... God" stick with me. "But because of his great love for us, God who is rich in mercy, made us alive in Christ..." Thankfully the Lord didn't leave me where I was but lead me to see Him. It's funny- a lot of the same things that I learned in those years I've been reminded of over the last several months...minus the feelings of craziness this time around, thank goodness. Anyways- I found something I wrote while I was coming through it that I thought I'd share...

INSPIRE ME.

Don't lecture me. Talk to me.

Your formulas confuse me. If so much can be simplified, than what's it saying about me if I never get it right?

Don't put me in a box, or I'll get out. One way or another. Even if it's kicking or screaming, I can't stay there. It's too dark. And lonely. It makes me want to scream.

I don't want you to be perfect. I don't want to hear about how you are. I could never unload on you because I don't think you could handle it.

It's okay though.

There was a time when I couldn't either. I didn't realize it. I was caught up in my own perfection and goodness. I didn't know. I just didn't know.

There's unbelievable safety here though. In breaking free. It's not as you think it would be. There are no ten steps or bullet points.

I wish you could know it. It's messy sometimes. And it hurts like hell. But there's peace. And gentleness. And forgiveness.

You don't even realize how much you don't deserve it. Forgiveness. Being a child of God. I know you think you deserve it, at least more than others do. You'd never say it outloud of course. You may even be blind to your own thinking.

I know because I've been there.

But...

(But God...rich in mercy)

I've been shown love when words could be considered appropriate by those observing from afar. I've been shown grace, with a closed mouth and open arms. I've been shown mercy.

And that's just from mere humans that understand in a way better than I, the supernatural workings of a God that cares.

And if that isn't enough (it gets better!), there's Jesus. I'm shown a cross. By the only One who can truly claim perfection, who bore all the weight of the ugliness of all Time.

GOD in flesh. ROCKING people's worlds.

THAT'S inspiring.

My Other Fab Four

2010-09-08T10:56:00.001-07:00

Between giving birth, vacationing with Matt's family, vacationing with my family, business trips, not living in our house, and just everyday life we've had to squeeze in family time wherever and whenever we could find a spare second.

We had our quick trip to Boston coming back from Maine.

Then we stopped for a day in Savannah on our way back from NC a couple weeks ago,

where we ate some nasty food because I was hungry, irritable, and too impatient to find a good restaurant. Boo. The place that we walked into served nothing (I mean nothing) but fried food, which made Matt sick for the rest of the night. It was a good time!

I wasn't the biggest fan of Savannah. It was okay, but a little too southern and Georgia smelly for me. We had fun exploring the next day, but I wouldn't put it on my list of cities to return to.

This past weekend we packed up the car and headed back to the beach for more family fun. We stayed right on the beach at a place where we've been with Matt's family a few times and hung out in the pool, looked for shells, and ate lots of yummy food. It's fun figuring out a new normal for our family of four. For two parents that love being active, it's definitely different with little ones, but exciting to introduce them to new things. I'm learning to enjoy just watching right now. I can't so much bend down with Jax in my carrier and look for shells with Em or jump in the waves with Matt, but I can enjoy just being with my son and watching my daughter bond with her daddy. Soon enough Jax'll be running around with his sister. It's really such a short time that I get to cuddle him. I swear the kid grows like a weed.

Emma loooved the hotel we stayed in. I mean, I understand why, but it was just cute how much she talked about it. In fact, as we were driving today she said," Mommy, I want to go back to the Hotel, Motel, Holiday Iiiiinnnn." Silly.

Now it's back to our routine.

Fall's in the air.

Except we live in FL so really it's not.

Kiddie Konvo

2010-09-07T19:39:00.000-07:00

I decided I need to start recording some of my conversations with Em. She says such funny things on a daily basis, but then when I try to retell them to Matt, I forget. This isn't even that funny, but it's just so typical of what our day sounds like. I don't want to forget all these silly little things...

Em: Where's Santa?

Me: I don't know, Em.

Em: Is he at college?

Me: Maybe...

Em: Where's college?

Me: Well, there's colleges all over the place, but are you wondering about the college where Tim and Jenna are? That's in OH. They go to Cedarville.

Em: OH? I want to go to OH!!!

Me: In a few weeks...

Em: Where's Daddy?

...and through the list of where everyone that Emma knows is we go...

Sweet Sassy Malassy

2010-09-07T11:37:00.000-07:00

So, my mom told me that she really liked the pictures from my last post. In fact, she was planning to use them for some presentation at school...except for the picture of Em. She looked like a dead-end child. I mean, she didn't exactly use those words, buuut...

I had to agree.

The problem is the girl's hair. I have the hardest time with it. If she happens to sit still long enough for me to do it, she just ends up pulling it out within the hour anyway. My mom always made sure my hair was perfect as a little girl. I never had a hair out of place. How this was possible I'm not sure. I suppose I wasn't quite the tazmanian devil that my daughter is but still.

Anywho- I thought I'd post some pics of Em from this weekend. I can't say that her hair is perfect in any of them, but she does look pretty darn cute.

Love These Kids

2010-09-02T18:41:00.000-07:00

Funky Town

2010-08-26T11:31:00.001-07:00

The hardest part about being with my family for three weeks is the end when I have to say goodbye. It really sucks. After leaving home, it usually takes me a few days to get back into the swing of things here. I get into a few-day-funk where I don't really feel like doing much or seeing people. Emma had a fever the first couple days back so that gave me an excuse to be a hermit. I can be pretty moody during this window of time too. I've talked to other friends that live far from their families who generally experience the same thing. Those first few days back are just hard. I love where I live and the life Matt and I have made here, but at the same time there's always a piece missing. Emma can't get make-overs from her cousins or hugs from her grandparents. Jax can't spit up all over his aunts and uncles. My nieces and nephews will continue to look older each time I see them. When I think about it in these terms it makes me really sad, so I just can't go there. It doesn't do any good. Instead, I need to be thankful for the times I do get to spend with my family and enjoy all I have in FL too. I'd say I've been blessed more than I could even imagine in so many ways. So, why complain?

With that, my funk is officially over.

Maine '10

2010-08-02T18:57:00.000-07:00

Emma took her first plane ride at the ripe old age of six weeks. Jax followed in his big sister's footsteps and also boarded his first plane at six weeks. This flight was kind of a big deal for Em too (And me!), as she sat in her own seat for the first time (Oh wait, I still have a child on my lap. Eeeh.). Both kids were great on the three hour flight. Of course, it made it a lot easier with grandparents and an aunt and uncle on the place as well. Emma sat between Wawa and Papa and played the whole time and Jax, well, he slept.

The first time Matt and I took a trip with his family to Maine, he held his head out the car window for much of the trip yelling, "I love Maine!" Yes, it was like the pure joy of a dog letting his ears flap in the breeze. Not saying that my husband is a dog, but for someone who loves nature as much as Matt, he's right in his element in Maine. This is one of the things that I love most about him. He can spend hours exploring tide pools, fishing in a lake, or hiking through the woods. I hope our children love being outside and exploring as much as we do. We start them young so I think our chances are good!

We were able to spend time with some of Matt's extended family that I'd never met before, which was a lot of fun. Hopefully we'll see a lot more of them though because it was hard to really engage in much conversation while running after a 2-year old and constantly feeding a 6-week old. I want to nurse for as long as my sanity allows, but times like this make me wish I could just give him a bottle. I mean, I could just give him a bottle, but I want to nurse for at least as long as I did with Emma, which was four months. Uuuug. But then again, formula can be a hassle as well. It's so expensive and makes for stinky spit up and poo. Who needs that? Plus, the boob's always available. I'm like my own Seven-Eleven.

Back to Maine. Pregnancy brain often leads me off track these days.

Except as soon as I wrote that I realized, I'm not pregnant anymore. Duuuh.

Newborn brain. See what I mean? Where's my mind? I think I left it back in the summer of 2009.

I digress.

Again.

While we were there we celebrated Matt's great-aunt's 80th birthday. The party was held at botanical gardens in Booth Bay. It was a gorgeous place with lots of space for all the kids to run around. Emma caught a bullfrog. Okay, not really. Her daddy caught a bullfrog and she chased after it a little and may have built up the courage to touch it once or twice. She did have a great time though, as did the rest of us. There were over sixty people there, and I think the birthday girl was the only one that could identify everyone by name. Aunt Clara not only sends out cards for birthdays and anniversaries of her immediate family, but with each of their children and children's children and as well as each person that marries into the family. With the sixty people that were at the party being only about half of the family, this is pretty impressive. She's quite the lady.

Our 5-year anniversary fell during this week as well. Where did the time go? I can't believe how much has happened in those five years. To celebrate, we went to Pemaquid Point for breakfast on the coast and to walk around the rocks together...until we had to be back to feed Jax. We spent the rest of the week hanging around the lakehouse, shopping in Freeport, picking blueberries on Mt. Battie, and walking around the quaint little towns that Maine's famous for. We also ate a lot of lobstah, which isn't my favorite with the beady little eyes and nasty green stuff inside, but I did eat a lobster roll from Red's Eats. I have to admit, it was pretty good. We also spent the week getting scolded by the natives. Shopkeepers and random motorists yelled at us for silly things that no one but miserable people would care about. When did Maine get so anal?? Apparently in the two years since we were there last.

Matt and I flew out of Logan so we could spend the day with our sweet little family in Boston. He had the day all planned out with maps and directions to each of our destinations. One thing we failed to plan for was parking though. Big oops. We spent a lot of the day exploring the city from the, ahem, comfort of our own car because we could never find a place to park. Boo. We were also planning to take a tour of Fenway, but weren't able to get there in time. Crazy city driving. Instead, we just walked around outside the ballpark. It was probably best with our two kiddos anyway. We made our way to Harvard, but got so annoyed with the whole parking thing that we just moved onto the next location where we ended up spending the rest of the day. Boston Commons was the perfect place to spend an afternoon (Plus there was plenty of parking!). After being on the move the week before, it was nice to just relax and sit by a pond and enjoy each other. We needed to relax before the airport mayhem that we were to encounter that night was well.

Matt purposefully booked a flight after mine and the kids so he could help me out in the airport. Except Logan isn't a user-friendly airport. Our airlines were in different terminals, which would be fine in a normal airport. In Logan though, you can't go between terminals. I've never heard of such nonsense. Matt helped me check-in, then ran to his check-in, realized that I had checked the wrong bag (whoops), ran back to me, got the right bag that had already been checked, ran back to check his bag, and then ran back again to go through security in my terminal with his escort pass...except he wasn't escorting anyone. HA. Finally we met up again at my gate with a few minutes to spare. Good thing we planned ahead. Upon landing, I also realized that we had left Em's carseat on the shuttle from the car rental place. It's now Wed. and we have yet to locate it. I'm not so impressed with Thrifty's customer service. Thankfully my parents had a carseat in their car when they picked us up. The blessing of multiple grandchildren. :)

Now I'm with the kids in NY for 2 weeks, hanging out with my family and hopefully catching up with some friends. I love summer in the Northeast. Florida's great the rest of the year but summer's are killer with the heat. Thank goodness for this month-long escape.

The Days are Long, But the Years Fly By

2010-07-19T11:19:00.000-07:00

As we were driving yesterday the song "Cinderella" by Steve Curtis Chapman came on. Before we had Emma we would have changed the station in a heartbeat but now lyrics like that have significance. Emma heard the name Cinderella and immediately perked up. Matt told her how he wanted to dance with her to this song when she gets married (I know, he's such a sap! He's so sentimental- once I found a pile of all the movie, concert, show, etc. tickets that we had ever been to together. How cute is that!? Anywho...). Emma started saying, "Cindawewwa? Cindawewwa is dancing with her daddy?" It was pretty sweet and it made me realize just how fast this time goes. Em's going to be going to school and dances and her first date and before we know it, Matt will be walking her down the aisle. Okay, so we have a little bit of time before that happens- but still- it goes by so quickly.

It's so easy for me to wish away this time. I love this age with Em, but having a newborn... eeee... there's just so many times when I catch myself thinking, "I can't wait until he's older. I can't wait for this newborn stage to pass." The time is so fleeting though. I want to appreciate how he cuddles in to my neck when he gets sleepy and how great it is when he looks up at me and smiles. And how good he smells after a bath. I want to remember how Emma looks over at him in the car and starts cracking up just because he's looking in her direction. I want to cherish every moment I have with my kids and live in the moment with them. I want to focus on today, as long as it's called today.

Help! Our Daughter's Scared of Jesus!

2010-07-15T19:00:00.000-07:00

So... we seem to have a problem. Tonight Em kept waking up crying. When Matt finally went in to see what was wrong she told him that Jesus was scaring her and that Jesus won't leave her alone. Then I went in again later when she was still crying and saying something else about Jesus that I couldn't understand. Evidently something she's heard about Jesus is freaking her out. Can't say I've ever known a kid to be scared of Jesus. I mean, what could we have possibly said that would make her scared?? And how do we fix it??

Milestones

2010-07-12T11:40:00.000-07:00

We had a weekend of milestones...

Milestone #1

Emma pooped on the potty for the first time! She's sat on it many, many times but just yells, "All done!" about 3 seconds after sitting down. I think she would be a lot closer to potty-trained, but I've been putting it off with Jax around. All I need right now is more pee-pee and poo-poo to clean up off the floor. We'll keep working on it though. I'm thinking Sept. is go time.

Nice hair, Em.

Milestone #2

I had my 4 week checkup on Friday and was given the green light to resume normal activity, so Sat. morning I was back at the gym- yeeaaay. Saturday mornings are always a little strange though; I've only been a couple times. It's not the familiar crowd that I'm used to. The Saturday before I had Jax I went and there was this guy I named Labor Man (very creative, I know) that seemed normal enough. One minute he was chatting with me about how his wife and I had the same OB, and the next minute, well, he sounded like he was having a baby himself. I mean, really, if you have to make those kind of noises to workout, maybe you're putting a little too much strain on yourself. I felt very awkward for him, and then I got nervous that people thought that it was me, the only ridiculously pregnant person in the room, going into labor. Then I just started feeling nervous about giving birth. Blast. All these thoughts just because some man didn't follow the clearly posted rule that states no obnoxious noises (or something along that line). Then this Saturday there was a guy that sounded like he was blowing raspberries on a baby's belly with every rep. Except this was so loud that if he were to actually do this on a baby's belly I'm pretty sure the child would fear for his life. Creeeepy.

Milestone #3

Ok- so this one wasn't in our family BUT- one of Emma's little buddies celebrated his 2nd birthday. They had a super fun party which included a blow-up water slide large enough for both kids and adults to enjoy. I suppose that's a milestone for Emma though. Can't say she's ever been on a big, blow-up water slide before. Of course, she loved it. As did I. I'm pretty sure all the daddies had the best time though. Boys and their toys. Plus, there were Kool-Aid flavored cupcakes- mmmm. They've set high expectations for children's birthday parties. We're thinking there will be ponies for the next one. :)

Milestone #4

Matt, Jenna, and I took Emma to see Toy Story 3. Though it wasn't her first movie experience, it was the first movie that she saw at the theater that she actually sat through the whole thing. She loved it as did the rest of us. Matt and I missed a few parts though, trading Jax back and forth as he complained about the movie.

I guess Em wanted to pretend that we were seeing it in 3D.

The Male Anatamy and Other Strange Things

2010-07-08T17:34:00.000-07:00

Even though I had four nieces and nephews before my own kids came along, I've never been the best diaper-changer. However, since Em didn't come out potty-trained, I had to step up my game. After two years of intense training, I can say I've mastered the art of changing diapers.

Changing a girl's diaper at least.

Changing a boy's diaper is a whole new ball game in which I am quite an amateur. It's not just wiping and throwing on a diaper anymore. Oh no, this requires strategy. There's time constraints as well. If I don't get in, get out there's going to be trouble. We're talking pee pee all over- clothes, carpets, corneas. There isn't an object (or person) within three feet of my boy that hasn't been christened. You would think I would learn after the first...second...twelfth time, but no. Yesterday he did it three times in ONE change! It felt like a cheap attempt for a laugh in a Will Ferrell movie. Which makes me think that my son is going to be an awesomely funny little dude. But anyways, first shot got him square in the face, poor little guy. As I was cleaning up that mess, his range improved and he shot clear over his shoulder... and left me with a nice little poo as an extra gift. Thanks, Jax. As Matt and I were scrambling to take care of that disgustingness, he continued his shooting spree. Uuuuggg...three diapers and one soaking onesie later, he was in the bath. However, he learned his first lesson in karma today. As we were walking from our car to the park a flock of birds passed overhead. Poor little Jax got pooped on. Ahahaha. Ok, I'm not really a horrible mother laughing at my 3.5 week old getting pooed on. It was disgusting, but thankfully it only landed on his leg. But maybe next time he'll think twice before pottying all over his parents. :)

What's Happening

2010-07-06T19:00:00.000-07:00

Welp, it's only week 3 and I already failed to meet my 5 times o' blogging/week goal...two weeks ago. Whoops. Lucky for me, it was just a personal goal, and I have no one (apart from maybe my husband and mother) breathing down my throat to actually meet it. In my defense of myself, (to myself... since I'm my only accountability) I was in West Palm all last week without Internet...and was sick...and my parents were here. All good reasons to forgive myself for my failure. So there.

What's been going on....

My parents came to town two weeks ago. I can't say I remember much about the first week, apart from feeding the boy often and taking daily smoothie runs. Good thing my parents weren't expecting a fun Florida vacation because I certainly didn't provide that. They were content to hang out with their grandchildren and help me keep my sanity. In fact, my mom somehow even convinced Jax to sleep between 5-6 hours every night that week. Whoa- I felt like a new woman after all that shut-eye. The following week Jax realized that it's much more fun to hang out with Mommy every 2-3 hours during the night again though. He's such a party animal.

Our week in West Palm was pretty uneventful too. I got sick, which meant a lot of time hangin' at the condo. Em really appreciated that. For something to do she decided to experiment with just how naughty a 2 year-old can be. Um, pretty naughty. The combination of being in a new place with a sick mommy, new baby, and no daddy proved too much for my normally good-natured daughter. Devil. Child. She did enjoy seeing Mummi and Marja though. She's been talking about them since we were there in the beginning of April. At the end of the week my parents drove us back and headed out for their cruise. It's always difficult when my family leaves, but this was especially difficult this time, even though we'll be up in NY in just a few short weeks.

The day after my parents left, we headed to Long Boat Key with Matt's family for the holiday weekend. It wasn't the best weather, which worked out well for little Jax. Being at the beach in extreme heat and sunshine with a newborn is not my idea of a good time. Being at the beach with chilly, overcast skies and some rain is. Woo hoo! Everyone else enjoyed themselves too. :) Em loooves the beach. She could spend hours playing in the sand and waves. She even boogy-boarded for the first time. What a champ! With the help of a little daddy discipline she had also thrown off her attitude by the weekend too, thank goodness.

And now here we are. Jax is a gassy mess who hasn't slept hardly at all in the past 24 hours. If he's not feeding he's grunting. Or pooping. Or grunting and pooping. Rarely sleeping though. Neither are his mommy and daddy. I'm having trouble thinking clearly, and looking forward to the day when the newborn sleep deprivation fog clears.

2010-06-24T20:04:00.000-07:00

Welp- my parents are in town and my mom has Jax until his next feeding. I'm going to bed. :)

Just Keep Swimming, Just Keep Swimming...

2010-06-22T12:02:00.000-07:00

My wise husband realized last night that he would get a lot more sleep if I got a little more sleep, so he took an earlier-than-in-the-mid-middle-night-holding-screaming-Jax shift (I think it shaved my heavy sighs for the night in half- I know, I sound like a huge brat...and I'm sure I am, but it's really hard to not be running on no sleep). Julie also soothed him for a while so both of us could sleep. Both of these things definitely made all the difference in me not losing my sanity completely. It's amazing how a couple hours of sleep can keep you from going nuts. :) Plus, it's 3 in the afternoon and I just woke up from an hour long nap, and both kids are still sleeping. I don't even have to worry about attempting to blog later on. Life is good.

Things I need to remember-

- Patience with my daughter. She's only two. She's a nurturer and wants to help me. Even if it's annoying, let her as much as possible. Speak kindly to her and give lots of hugs.

- It's okay that I can't get out of the house before 11:00. This just means that the day goes by that much faster. Isn't that what I want for the next several weeks!? Running errands will take longer too until I get in the groove. I knew that this would be a big adjustment because I remember how much I had to adjust with just having one kiddo.

- Everything will get easier. Really. I know it will. I feel like such a wuss even saying that it's anything but easy since I have so many helping hands. That's just silly to think though. I just had a baby, have a very sore body still, and raging hormones. Give myself a break, right? Now I feel bad saying that. Geez. I'm such a woman.

- Be sure to show my husband how much I love him and appreciate him. It's easy to just go about all the baby business and ignore him. I know this will get better in the coming weeks as things calm down, but I really don't want to just shove him in the background. He's been pretty great. And I sure feel a lot better when we get to have some cuddle time. :)

- My friends will still be my friends, even if it takes days to answer phone calls, texts, facebook messages, etc. They've all been here before. I never felt bad when they didn't get back to me after they had babies, and I'm sure no one else feels bad either.

- Play loud music in the car- it helps. It's also so fun to listen to Emma try to sing along. Ha- it always brightens my day!

Aaahhh...and just keep swimming. Dory is so wise.

Uuuugggg

2010-06-21T20:19:00.000-07:00

Jax has been up until 5:30 in the morning the last two nights, and it's looking like it may go that way again tonight. Emma has an ear infection. My mind is jello. Matt went back to work yesterday, so wasn't much of a help last night. He endured heavy sighs and updates from me about how I was still awake each hour though, so I'm not sure he got much more sleep either. Whoops.

Oh- and I keep breaking out in hives on my legs and now my arms. What's that all about?

On a brighter note- my parents come tomorrow. Woo hoo!

As of Late

2010-06-18T11:00:00.000-07:00

While Matt was changing Em's diaper today she said to him, "Oh man, I had to pee so bad!" Ahhhahaha. I'm guessing she picked that one up from her water guzzling momma.

In other news...

Jackson was born a week ago today, which means...we've survived our first week! Success! And we're even relatively sane still! Since being on Zantac his sleeping has improved so much. He's a pretty content little guy, and mostly reserves his screaming for his daily blowouts. Seriously, these newborn diapers just aren't keeping it in on his scrawny lil bod.

We went to the design studio today to pick out new carpeting, laminate, and paint colors for our house. Yeeay! Since our house was an inventory house, we weren't able to pick out any of these things, so it's really nice being able to make a few changes. Oh- I got my white blinds too! I can't wait to see everything together. Hopefully we'll like it.

I'm pretty exhausted today, and really hoping that Matt and I will be able to just chill out a bit and watch a chick flick tonight. A couple nights ago, our movie night didn't turn out quite the way I was hoping. We watched The Book of Eli. Not really what I had in mind. I mean, I love weird, blood-bath movies as much as the next girl buuuut...come on now. I could handle it all of ten minutes before I realized I'd much rather read...or sleep...or do laundry. Heck, I'd even watch Man vs. Food. Tonight I pick the movie though. There's been way too much testosterone flowing through the t.v. between the World Cup and the NBA finals. I'm thinking maybe When in Rome or Dear John. Though today I saw a cute little chubby girl wearing a sequined shirt today that made me want to watch Little Miss Sunshine. :) We shall see.

My Girl

2010-06-17T19:15:00.000-07:00

Ok I just finished nursing and looked down at my chest and for a split second thought, "AAAHHH my nipple's missing!!" Then I realized that I had just snapped up my nude-colored nursing bra.

Phew.

Anywho...

I was told several times that one of the hardest things about having a second child is dealing with all the feelings of change for the first child. We knew that we were probably going to have to deal with behavior issues and hurt feelings with the transition from only chid to big sister. What I didn't realize was that hurting your two-year old's feelings because they don't feel completely loved by you is one of the worst feelings in the world.

Overall, Emma's done a great job adjusting to this new little squirt that's in the house. Of course it helps a ton that she has lots of people around to pay attention to her, so she doesn't always notice that her parents are a little distracted. When she first came to the hospital to meet Jackson she looked like she was about to cry. She warmed up quickly though and reluctantly planted a kiss on him after some coaxing from Daddy. She even held him for a good three seconds before yelling, "All done!" and started running around the hospital room showing off for all of us. She was not going to be shown up by this little goober. She wasn't quite sure about how felt about me though. She came into bed with me a couple times but wouldn't stay long. When we got home from the hospital she wanted nothing to do with me. She spent lots of time with her daddy, but stayed away from me unless Matt made her go to me. Just stab me in the postpartum heart. Good thing for my emotional well-being her cold-shoulder only lasted a day or two.

She quickly warmed up to her little brother though. Our second day in the hospital she was much more comfortable and constantly wanted to kiss and play with "Sackson". It was the same way when he came home. She payed close attention to everything he did and kept telling us how cute he was. In fact, she wanted to touch him all the time. I mean, all the time. And push on his head. And nose. And eyes. And well, you get the point. She was very excited, which was great. Mildly annoying but great. I think she realized that she would get a reaction from mommy and daddy when she would poke and prod at him. I guess when you're two and suddenly have to share your parents' attention, you'll do what you can to keep as much of it as you can, regardless of the consequences. We've tried to balance the fine line between being gentle with her little feelings and being firm about obeying and not causing her baby brother bodily harm.

It all came to a head last night around bed time. She kept waking up fitfully and crying out for us. We just had to pop in and give her a quick pat for her to stop crying. At one point though I was with Jackson and Matt had run out for a few minutes, so Grandpa tried to calm her down. As soon as Matt went in to get her she took one look at him and her little chin started trembling and she started crying one of those sweet, pathetic cries. So we held her and cuddled her for a while. She was just so sad, and we knew she didn't even understand why. We both laid in bed with her, rubbing her head. Again, just stab me in the postpartum heart. I just wanted to keep holding her, and just make her know without any doubt how very loved she is and how that will never change, no matter how our lives change.

Today we ventured out to swim and run some errands together as a family of four. I really liked it. Hopefully my baby girl did too.

Stickin' with it

2010-06-16T17:28:00.000-07:00

Aaaahhhh- so I planned to write about Em and how she's doing in her big sister role, buuut I also don't want to be up until 2:00 again and Matt just asked me to watch a movie with him, which sounds really great soooo...I'll write tomorrow. But maybe a little right now. Ok, quick post to stick with the goal.

How about...the blessings of breastfeeding...

I've been having trouble with feeding Jax. He won't take from one side and it's driving me nuts. His weight dropped enough for me to have to bring him back in tomorrow, so I've ben working my tail off to make sure he's getting enough to eat. That means nursing on one side, attempting the other, pumping both sides and giving him a bottle. It's a bit time consuming. However, it's kind of like a trip to the gym. All that boob action burns the calories even faster than the Stairmaster. Last night for dinner I had spaghetti, two pieces of bread, and fruit for dinner. Then for dessert I had four chocolate covered strawberries, a huge piece of Brewster's ice cream pie, and finished off a pint of Ben & Jerry's (wow, maybe I should be embarrassed about this). Yet when I woke up in the morning and weighed myself I had still dropped three more pounds. Woo hoo!! You can't beat that!

How about an analogy?

Breastfeeding is to exercise as Chinese drywall is to ________.

Any guesses?

My full-time job.

Ahhhhahah- get it? I don't have to actually do anything to burn calories while breastfeeding like I don't have to really do anything but still make money everyday from the Chinese drywall stipend.

I'm so clever. Newborn brain schmooborn brain.

Walmart Hospital

2010-06-15T21:18:00.001-07:00

Uuuuggg...here I am again in the wee hours of the morning, just sitting down to write. Emma's crying in bed and I forgot to give Jax his acid reflux meds before his last feeding and he's kind of a mess too. Feeding is not going so well, and my bubs feel like they might just fall right off. But contrary to how I sound right now, today was a really good day! This first week is just such a roller-coaster, and I guess it makes sense to be a little wound tight at 1:00 in the morning.

So here we go- our days in the hospital. First, maybe I should preface this with the fact that we referred to the place where I had Emma as the country club. It was just a really great hospital, and Matt's mom had warned me that it wouldn't be like that here. She was right. :) I guess the philosophy of our hospital here is to give the family their space and not interfere as much as possible. Um, okay, I suppose that's nice, except for the fact that i have a home in which we can have family time. If I'm going to be in a hospital for a couple days, it would be kind of nice to get some help so I can maybe recover and not go home feeling like I not only gave birth but also got hit by a truck as well. Maybe that's just me.

The first night I asked the nurse if I could put Jax in the nursery between feedings so I could get a little bit of uninterrupted sleep. I hadn't slept at all the night before while I was in labor and well, I did just push an 8 lb. person out of my bod. Just sayin'. The nurse told me how they really like to keep the babies with the moms as much as possible. Oh. Well, thanks for the generous dose of guilt. She came back at about 1:30 and I asked again. I know, I'm a bad mom. Jax was back at 4:00 so I did get a whopping 2 hours of sleep that first night. When the OB came in at around 8 the next morning she took one look at Matt and me and told us we looked awful. Matt explained what had happened the night before and she said that they have a tendency to make people feel guilty; they'd had many conversations about it. She would put a sign up on our door and order that he stay in the nursery for 4-6 hours. Aaaaahhh, my new hero. We felt so much better after getting some rest and were ready to face the day.

Unfortunately, we had more problems throughout the day. Whenever I asked a nurse a question her reply was always,"I don't know. I don't usually work on this floor." After hearing that from 3 different nurses I felt more like I was in Walmart than in a hospital. A little frustrating. That night I asked again if we could put Jax in the nursery between feedings so we could get more than 2.5 hours of sleep. This time the nurse's reply was that the only person in the nursery wasn't from this floor and we may not want to put him in, in case he spit up and had to be suctioned or anything. Seriously? So...what is there a 15 year-old who just took a baby-sitting course taking care of the babies or what? I thought we were in a hospital! You're telling me that the person in the nursery isn't competent to help my baby if he starts choking? Awesome! So Jax spent the night with us again and we slept an hour. ONE. HOUR.

Our little Jax has the same acid reflux problems that Em did and could not be put down at all after feeding without continuous screaming. When I finally did get him down and drift off to sleep at about 1:00, at 1:15 the nurse woke me up you get my vitals. Are you kidding me? Then again at 4:00 I fell asleep for about a half hour when another nurse came in and woke me to ask about Jax's pees and poops. Again, information that I would prefer not to give while sleeping. I was so ready to get out of there and started asking about being discharged at 7. At 4:00 they finally let us go. I was seething as I waited 45 minutes for wheelchair man to arrive to wheel me out. By the time he arrived I was trying to hold back sobs as the crazy new mother that everyone avoided looking at on the way out. Oh dear. I feel like I was pretty level-headed and they did all they could to make me crazy before I left. Thankfully the sunshine, a smoothie, and a stop at Target on the way home helped me jump off the crazy train.

The Push

2010-06-14T19:54:00.000-07:00

I'm exhausted, sore, and coming down from about a 7.5 on the crazy scale right now, but I really, really want to meet my goal of blogging 5 times a week now that little man is here. Since our ghetto hospital didn't have Internet I'm already behind schedule, so I'm going to ignore my beckoning bed and write.

Let's head back to Thurs...

At around 11:00 Matt and I headed to bed and I started having contractions pretty regularly. I tried so hard to get some sleep but to no avail. Around 2:00 the contractions started to get more painful and closer together, so I got up to walk around. Since my water broke with Emma and I didn't have any contractions until I was induced, I wasn't really sure how all of this was going to play out. By 3:30 I realized that it was probably about time to head to the hospital, so I went in to wake my crazy-in-the-middle-of-the-night sleeping husband, who, during college, people used to wake up abruptly in the middle of the night just for a good laugh. He was pretty confused by the whole idea of me being in labor, but I eventually convinced him it was time to go...not before he asked if I was going to shower, (um, no I've had plenty of leisurely time in the last several hours being awake to shower if I wanted, thank you) if he could shower, (really?) and if I wanted to swing by Starbuck's (he just wasn't getting it, poor guy). He eventually woke up enough to get us safely to the hospital (after asking if he was allowed to run some red lights) and the whole surreal experience began. I wasn't any more dilated at that point then I was earlier in the day at my check-up, but the doctor that had seen me earlier was on call and was pretty confident of my impending delivery, so there was no question about if I should be admitted or not. Of course, I asked for my epidural right away and got it two hours later. Boo. By that time I was having the shakes and feeling like I was going to throw up at every contraction. Thankfully, the pain was relieved enough for me to rest for the next several hours though. At about 11:15 I told the nurse that my contractions were starting to get pretty painful again so she said either it's time to up your dose or push. Sure enough I was at 9.5 centimeters, so it was time to meet my baby boy! Having someone tell you that it's time to push another human being out of your body has got to be one of the weirdest experiences in the world. Offering you a large mirror to watch it happen is even weirder; I had to decline. I pushed for about a half hour with Matt in soccer drill mode, holding my legs and counting to ten. Finally the doctor said, "Look! Here he is!" to which I closed my eyes to the bloody mess of a conehead child in front of me. As I was saying, "Eeeeww gross, " I reminded myself that it was my child and I probably shouldn't close my eyes. I held my little mole right away and actually remember everything with this one, unlike the painful blur of Emma's birth. It was a pretty great delivery if I do say so myself. Though tomorrow I'm writing about our next two days in the hospital. Now that's a different story. I'll going to have to have my gripe water and tequila on hand for that.

2010-06-04T17:44:00.001-07:00

So here we go again. Another month has gone since my last post. Shoot. I have such good intentions. Again though, I blame the Chinese drywall. My poor laptop is living out it's last days on life-support and I just can't bring myself to consistently blog in my in-laws' kitchen. I don't know why. It's kind of like trying to write in a classroom. It's possible but so much easier to get my thoughts out curled up in my own space. When Jax arrives (anytime now!) my goal is to write 5 times a week. Even if the only thing I say is, "Jax pooped and Emma's funny." Good enough for me! I originally had the lofty goal of blogging everyday, but come on now, that's like saying you're going to have sex every single day in your first year of marriage. it just ain't gonna happen, and who needs all that pressure.

The last month has been a good one. My bro and sis-in-law came down to Disney with their kids so we spent a couple days using our passes with them. Em loves "Mickey Mouse's House" and now whenever we call her goofy her response is, "Noooo, I'm Minnie Mouse!" Ahahaha. She's such a fun little girl and will make a great big sister. She says the funniest things, all of which I can't think of at the moment, of course. Good thing I'll be blogging so much more often here pretty soon. :)

Matt's brother and his wife also came down for a visit and we all headed to the beach for a relaxing Memorial Day weekend. There's something about the ocean air (and king-sized bed) that always makes me sleep well. Emma slept really well too. Probably because she just plays nonstop ALL. DAY. LONG. I don't know how often I'll be able to go without Matt after Jax is born. She's not one that's just content to play by mommy's feet in the sand. She loves getting right in the water and running sprints up and down the beach. I swear she's going to be an Olympic athlete one day.

I can't believe Jax is going to be an outside-the-womb member of our family within the week. It's funny because I'm just starting to realize that I really don't mind being pregnant all that much. I wouldn't go so far as to say that I like it, but this pregnancy is a lot more enjoyable than my first. With Em I was a waddling hobbit that was uncomfortable ALL the time. With Jax, I mostly just waddle when it's over 95 degrees and am only uncomfortable in the middle of the night...and morning...and when I can actually feel new stretch marks forming across my belly, but that's definitely an improvement from all the time! I also just finished reading a book called A Thousand Sisters, which documents women living in Congo and all the atrocities that they have faced in villages where 90% of women have been raped and most have lost children or watched family members murdered. It's one of those perspective altering books that made me realize just how petty some of the things I worry about are, and the privilege it is to be able to extend blessings to others with all that I've been given.

Well, it's a Saturday afternoon and this preggo needs a nap.

Cinco de Ear Infectiono

2010-04-29T12:30:00.000-07:00

Last night Matt took Em out to swing while I ran upstairs to grab her a sweatshirt. She's the type of kid that never wants to stop playing, regardless of the elements. You can almost hear the voice inside her head, "m-m-m-muust....hhhhaaavvee....f-f-f-f-f-un," chattering as she continues to play through shivering, purple lips. Before I reached the door though, they were back inside. She was laying on her daddy's shoulder and said she was cold and wanted to go in. Ah, a sure sign that something was wrong. We both thought she felt a little warm, and put her to bed early (or shall we say actually on time for once). At about 3 she woke up crying that she wanted to cuddle.

Over and over...

I finally went in gave her the pat on the back that usually calms her, but she just kept crying and trying to climb up in my arms. I went back to bed hoping that it would stop, but then I heard coughing and groggily remembered that she didn't feel good. My first thought was another ear infection, which meant that she wasn't going to get back to sleep laying down, so I went in and held her. When she still wouldn't go back to sleep I brought her to our cozy, full-sized, pregnant- bellied-plus-a-husband-and-body-pillow-bed. A genuine sleeper's paradise.

Um, no.

I think it was at about 5:30 that my tears started flowing. The night before I had to get up four times to pee, not including the time I went before going to bed and when I woke up for the morning. There wasn't much time for good sleep. And now another night of little sleep. As I laid wide awake I couldn't help but think that in a month in a half I'd be up half the night with a newborn, and well, it just made my hormones take over. Then Matt (who was also awake and going to work in a couple short hours) started rubbing my arm. Soon I felt another little hand doing the same. Poor little sick Em sat up to rub her crying mommy's arm. The tears that flowed after that were for an entirely different reason.

My doctor wasn't in this morning, so I had to bring her to someone else who suggested that I talk with my doctor about seeing a specialist. Saw that one coming. I would rather not get tubes in her ears but this is getting a little insane. It's just strange because she never had a single ear infection until December, and now she's had five. Boo. Oh, and when I gave her the latest round of medicine she kept saying she didn't wike it. It was yucky. So, I tried to give it to her quickly. Big mistake. Everything she'd eaten all day long came up in nice brown chunks all over both of us. Mmmm...nothin' says lovin' like hugging your kid and telling them it's okay that you're both bathing in vomit. The phrase "the things we do for love" takes on an entirely new element after becoming a parent.

To My (not so) Baby Girl

2010-04-28T11:03:00.000-07:00

April 28, 2008

April 28, 2009

April 28, 2010

Dear Emma,

It's hard for me to believe that two years have passed since you came into this world. I vividly remember the day that you were born. Your daddy and I were so nervous and excited to finally meet you. It was hard to believe that you were really ours. You were so tiny, swimming in even your newborn clothes. Driving home with you from the hospital I was so nervous. I may have even made your daddy pull over to the side of the road so I could ride in the backseat to watch you. I had so much to learn (and still do!) about being a mommy.

You grew and changed so much in those first several months. I knew you were going to be spunky. Even in your first year you were silly and laughed often. You were a fun baby, but your transition from baby to toddler has been my favorite. I'm amazed by how much you've changed from your first birthday. You're no longer a baby. You're an amazing little girl. I love spending time with you, and you bring your daddy and me more joy than I even thought possible. You are so loved, baby girl. You are surrounded by people near and far that think you are so special. Even as a little two year-old you have a huge capacity to love. You're always talking about some family member, and how you want to see or call them. You love calling up a grandparent, aunt, uncle, or cousin to tell them what you're doing and to hear their voices. You also talk about your friends a lot and ask multiple times a day what they're doing.

You have quite the vocabulary and talk nonstop. I mean, seriously, nonstop. The last few times that we've taken long car rides late at night your dad and I place bets on whether you'll fall asleep or just talk incessantly. My bet is always that you'll stay awake, no matter how late it is or how action-packed our day has been. I always win. You also love to pretend with your stuffed animals. I often overhear conversations that you have telling them that they need to obey mommy or daddy. Haha- I guess that's something that you hear a lot.

You're also such an active little girl. You love running and dancing and jumping (everyone is jealous of your awesome calves) and playing outside. Whenever you're on a swing you always yell, "Go higher!" and when you learn something new you say, "Watch me!" to whoever is willing to listen. One of your favorite indoor activities is coloring, which is great because you're always good at restaurants as long as you have a crayon in front of you. Your favorite thing is drawing small circles, which I think is quite advanced for your age. :) You also have developed a love for singing. Though, I'm not going to lie, I'm pretty sure you won't be making a career out of it. Girl, right now you can hardly carry a tune, but you love belting out songs with the radio and your favorite songs to sing right now are "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" and "Jesus Loves Me."

Your daddy and I are so proud to be your parents and thank God all the time for the privilege of raising you. Of all the great experiences I've been able to have in this life, my favorite is being your mommy. I love you so much and look forward to seeing how much you'll grow in this next year. Just know that no matter how old you get, you will always be my baby girl.

Wuv you soooo much,

Mommy

Blame it on the dra, dra, dra, dra, dra, drywall

2010-04-22T11:56:00.000-07:00

What happened to mid-March through mid-April? I tell ya, I think the time was stolen because it's all kind of a blur to me. So much has happened. We moved out of our house, visited with our Finnish family, became Finnish citizens, entered the last year of my twenties, and Emma, well don't even get me started on how much she's changed. In less than a week she'll be TWO, and in a month and a half we'll be the parents of TWO (I suppose technically we already are).

Last time I blogged I was on a roll, confident that I would continue my consistent writing and picture uploading. That was over a month ago. I remember writing my last post and thinking, "Tomorrow I'll put up super cute pictures of Emma's acting debut." So many tomorrows have turned into yesterdays since then.

I blame the Chinese drywall.

About a month ago, our awesome neighbor, who knows all the ins and outs of the neighborhood, told us that some houses in the neighborhood had Chinese drywall and we better get ours checked out. Since we've only been in our house a year and all this about the drywall came out before we moved into it, I wasn't too concerned. I mean, what builder was still using tainted Chinese drywall in 2008?

Um, ours was.

Matt was even less concerned than me, but I figured we would get it checked just in case.
I was told that the inspection should take about an hour, and that the inspector couldn't come out for about a week. Not the best sign. He was obviously very busy checking lots of tainted houses. When he did come, it took him all of 30 seconds to determine that we did, in fact, have the dang drywall.

Awesome!

The builder would supposedly move us out and "make it right" but not until June. It's one thing to unknowingly live in a toxic environment. It's quite another knowing we were exposing our little girl and unborn child to it. We stayed in the house one night- and then decided to get the heck outta there, whether they would pay for us to get out or not.

Thankfully, Matt's parents opened up their home to us once again. And we got our start date moved forward thanks to the power of pregnancy and connections. Supposedly, we'll be back in our house by the end of June. We'll see.

There have definitely been casualties along the way.

For instance, our Mac.
The one that we paid over $700 to have fixed.
The one that was only 2 years old.
Will we be reimbursed for that?
Nope.

My laptop.
I haven't blogged in the last month partially due to the fact that this beast is so dang slow now, and it seems like it's going to crash at any second.
I was blaming the poor craftsmanship of Dell.
Now I think the real villain is my walls.
Or the Chinese.
Or our builder.

Our brand new video camera that we just bought at Christmas.
Also dead.
We were just starting to use it more often and getting really great videos of Em.
I guess that means they also owe us all those lost memories.

Except all these electronics died in vain because if we wanted to get our house fixed, we had to sign a form releasing our builder from the responsibility of paying for these items. But really, what choice did we have? We could join one of the lawsuits...and do what in the meantime? Just let our house sit and maybe someday get fixed? Maybe someday get paid for it, maybe not? There just wasn't a whole lot of options for a family with two small children.

Today when I saw our builder advertising signs for a "secret sale" I contemplated standing next to the guy with my own sign saying that the secret was that their houses were constructed with Chinese drywall. But I didn't. Today at least. But I'm definitely keeping my options open...

2010-03-15T20:02:00.000-07:00

I rarely miss teaching. I don't miss grading papers, getting up ridiculously early, or having to deal with attitudes from teenagers who think the world revolves around them.

But...

As annoying as those teenagers can be, they are what I miss the most. When I was asked if I wanted to help direct the play where my husband attended high school it was a no-brainer. All the fun of being at a school with a quarter of the hassle! I would have the opportunity to be involved in theater again but with three other directors. Being the new-comer and the only one that didn't work at the school, my role was mostly supportive, which was great after the burn-out of being the sole director at my old school for four years. It's amazing what a difference being part of a team makes. With Matt in busy season it was also a great way to fill up time in those long, lonely afternoons.

Most importantly though, I was able to be involved with teens. Honestly, I didn't even realize how much I missed that until working with them again. It's easy to get caught up in everything that goes along with being a mom and over-think my place in the world when there are opportunites right in front of me. I was reminded of one of the main reasons why I wanted to teach high school in the first place. I love the age where the future still holds endless opportunity and life is either completely exciting or devastating. It's just fun to be around people who are in the stage of life that doesn't revolve around being reasonable. It was refreshing being around young people again.

And the icing on the cake? Emma got to be part of it too! It's funny how much pride you can take seeing your child do absolutely nothing on stage but look cute. Pictures to come soon...

2010-03-13T07:30:00.000-08:00

We spent last Sunday at Busch Gardens with our growing, jumping, climbing, dancing, balancing, singing, talking, little monkey.

I had such a cute picture of her on her daddy's shoulders, but our memory card apparently crashed and the Emma/Daddy pics are lost. Dangit. You'll just have to imagine how cute it was, but whatever you imagine wouldn't even be cute enough. It was just that cute.

Days like this...

2010-03-12T09:59:00.001-08:00

make me appreciate living in FL.

2010-03-08T10:35:00.000-08:00

At the end of summer in NY, we get excited about the NY State Fair...

At the end of winter in FL, they get excited about the Plant City Strawberry Festival...

Some come for the games

and rides.

We spend our money

on things like this

and this.

But it's the shopping

that's most irresistable.

Welp

2010-03-07T19:24:00.000-08:00

Entered this picture in the Strawberry Festival...

Guess Award of Merit is better than Award of Nothing

Evening in the ER

2010-03-03T05:46:00.000-08:00

Yesterday we reached an inevitable parental milestone that no one wants to make. Our first trip to the ER with our child.

No fun.

Em was standing in the large part of the cart (I know, I know) as I was grocery shopping. Not the best safety practice I admit, but she's only allowed to stand up by me as I hand her snacks. And my child is always obedient and would never wander up to the front of the cart in the two seconds when I wasn't looking. Plus, the buckle on this particular cart was broken and my little wild thing has been known to weasel her way out of grocery cart buckles anyway. Alright, enough justification? Yes, thank you, I felt like a terrible mother.

It all transpired quickly, as accidents tend to do. She crept up to the front of the cart, and as I was in the middle of telling her to come back, she flipped over. On her head. It made the most awful cracking sound on the hard floor. I dove for her and ended up with some pretty painful bruises on my knees, which makes me realize how much her head must hurt. My initial thought as she was falling was that she was going to break her little neck, but thankfully it was fine. She screamed (a good sign) as I cradled her in my arms on the floor while half the store stopped to stare. I got off the floor and went to sit at a bench where there happened to be an EMT who briefly checked her. Matt asked if he was wearing an EMT uniform because he was probably just hitting on me, you know, like most 25 year old guys do to messy-haired pregnant mommies with screaming toddlers on their laps. But any who, he thought I should take her in to get an x-ray and I phoned my doctor who agreed. Unfortunately, urgent care facilities won't see children under two, so off to the wonderful city ER we drove.

Ew.

Not the place for an almost two year old and pregnant lady. When we weren't outside being blown away by the 25 mph winds, we were scrunched up in the farthest corner from everyone else as possible. Turns out I am not very compassionate when it comes to small spaces of hacking, puking, crying people. At least not in this situation. It was gross.

Four hours later, we left the hospital with empty tummies and a good report. Her x-rays came back fine, so we headed to grandma and grandpa's to get some food since I never did finish that grocery shopping. Em got her fair share of sympathy and home we went. After getting her pj's on Em told us she wanted to cuddle. How could we possibly resist such a request? We all fell asleep in each others arms, which couldn't have been a better way to end the day.

2010-03-02T05:29:00.000-08:00

On Saturday, Matt ran the Gasparilla 5k in Tampa. Though it felt more like a central NY Turkey Trot. It was coooooooold. And rainy. And generally not the time for men to wear muscle shirts and shorts higher than mid-thigh. Yuck-O. Unfortunately, they wore them anyway. I suppose when you run three miles in fifteen minutes you have the right to wear anything you want.

My sporty husband ran it in just over 24 minutes, which I thought was good with the training schedule he kept of one day on, twelve days off.

Emma didn't really appreciate being wheeled around in the rain and cold, but she did like Daddy's medal.

Naples Beach Wedding

2010-02-25T19:40:00.000-08:00

Over the last several months I've shot a few weddings with my friend Hayley (whose blog I would link to if she kept one...hint, hint). Our most recent one was in Naples, and since I'm up to my eyeballs in editing I thought I'd post a few....

The bride...

The groom...

The time...

The place...

Snow Angels Take Two

2010-02-24T08:36:00.000-08:00

The last couple days in Syracuse, Emma begged me to bring her out in the snow again. On our final day we obliged. The girls were so excited to get their snow clothes on, screeching and clapping their hands.

The excitement lasted all of 5 minutes

The girls had a little trouble walking in the crunchy snow.

And fell all over each other in the sled.

We thought it was a good idea to move onto another wintry activity,

but neither girl really liked making snow angels.

With all that work of putting on snow suits

We hoped for at least a couple cute cousin pics,

but they would have none of it.

The tears flowed

and flowed...

like hot cocoa on a cold day.

Miles to Go Before I Sleep...

2010-02-23T19:57:00.001-08:00

It's a Party in the USA

2010-02-23T04:27:00.000-08:00

Emma 22 mths. Mommy 5 yrs. Any resemblance? I think so.

I danced every year from the time I was five until 4th grade, and my mom saved all my costumes. It's fun to see them recycled...

2010-02-20T19:06:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was a bust, as Emma was suddenly (upon arrival to the outlets after a 45 minute drive...screaming through the Gap outlet) stricken with an ear infection. She cried for a good couple hours, went to the doctor, and cuddled until her meds kicked in and she was back to her crazy self.

So today we headed to Spaghetti Warehouse to see Beauty and the Beast.

After the performance we headed back to the outlets to try shopping again, getting Emma all outfitted for spring.

Then headed to dinner where Matt and I had our reception almost five years ago...

The Cousins

2010-02-18T18:42:00.000-08:00

Popcorn and Princesses

2010-02-18T05:14:00.000-08:00

Yesterday we took Emma and Abby to see their first movie in the theater. It was supposed to be an outing with all the kids, but Stacie's ended up not being able to go. Since there was no other time for all of us to go, we decided to venture out with just the two little girls.

The popcorn and soda part was a huge success, the movie part-

not so much.

The Princess and the Frog was playing at the dollar theater, so we figured even if they didn't like the whole theater experience it would only cost a couple bucks. Good choice. The movie probably wasn't the best choice. It held the girls' attention for a grand total of about five minutes. They did like sitting in the theater seats, munching on popcorn, and sipping on a theater-sized, sugary soda though. Can't blame them for that. As it was already loud in the theater, they didn't quite get the idea of volume control either. They kept calling out to each other and yelling loudly whenever one held a snack that the other wanted. Aaaaand walking back and forth in our aisle, hanging on the seats in front of us. Whoops. I'm sure the kids in those seats were very sad to see us go about halfway through the movie. When the snacks stopped flowing both girls said it was time to go bye-bye. No objections from these two mommas or gramma.

Snow Angel

2010-02-15T19:10:00.000-08:00

We waited until the cousins came over to venture out into the snow, but that didn't stop us from playing with the snow in our pajamas...

Emma didn't really get that you're supposed to sit up when sledding...

Oh No You Di'int- Oh Yes... I Did

2010-02-11T18:14:00.000-08:00

Confession: I broke the cardinal rule of facebook yesterday. I can't believe I'm writing about it because I haven't told anyone about it. I don't even want to say it out loud. Not to my girlfriends. Not to my husband. I didn't confess to anyone how I wallowed in my shame with a Big Mac, fries, and a coke last night.

Sooooo.....

I friend requested someone...and they rejected me. Fine. Here's where it gets bad. I thought about it too much. I analyzed and over-analyzed...and then I sent a message. AHHHHhhh! Who does that!? I KNOW. When it comes to tasks, I'm a procrastinator. When it comes to relationships, I'm impulsive. If I get an idea in my head I can't function until I deal with it. This was so dumb, I know. Hence, I will not speak of it...I will only write of it.

It was an ex-boyfriend's wife (from a loooong time ago) and we had both commented on something, and I thought what she said was funny and well, we used to talk here and there in a past life. Now she's a mom and I'm a mom and I thought...why not?

She evidently didn't feel the same way.

So I asked her why. I KNOW. I was soooo that girl. Who does that??? Who ever does that? I mean, it was a long message too- and I don't even remember what it said. Chances are it didn't even make a whole lot of sense because I was just rambling instead of composing my thoughts. Buuut...I have no desire to go back and read it because that would mean that I actually wrote it. And pressed send. Uuug.

To add to the humiliation, she wrote back this morning saying she was surprised to hear from me, and basically she didn't really give it much thought when she rejected me. She doesn't harbor any ill will towards me, but she just uses fb as a way to keep in touch with family, friends, and people that she was close to in the past. And she thanked me for my openness. It was all very kind...and left me feeling like even more of a moron.

So why did I do it? Why did I ask? I don't know- I've been asking myself that question. I guess there's two schools of thought on facebook. Some people, like this particular girl, see it as a way of keeping in touch with those people that are or were important parts of your life. That's fine. I guess I see it as a way to connect with people that are important parts of my life but also those that could still be an important part of my life. It's funny, some of the people that I keep in touch with the most aren't necessarily those that I was close to in the past but have since found common ground with. I'm really thankful for those relationships that have developed. And, every once in a while it's just neat to see what that random person that I backpacked with in Europe for a couple of days is doing.

As I write I'm actually starting to realize that as ridiculous as it may be, I'm glad that I wrote her. I'm a girl, and I know how my mind works. I know in the future when I would see her name appear on the same comment as me or if I ever saw her post on the wall of a mutual friend I would probably think bad thoughts towards her...because I thought she was thinking badly of me. Dumb. I know, but come on, it's how girls work. Now it doesn't have to be like that. Now it doesn't have to ever cross my mind again. Now I don't have to be a catty girl. It's kinda freeing...you know, once I get passed the feeling like a fool part. I've made a fool of myself plenty of times before and I'm sure I will again. I'd much rather feel like a fool than be a snakey girl though.