Ancora Imparo

Valentine Crafts

2012-02-10T11:06:00.000-08:00

We've been getting the house ready to celebrate valentines day. I used jute, hot glue, staples, and leftover wedding invitations - which have been used in so many projects over the last nearly eight years - and lots of inspiration from pinterest. It's not red and pink but I figure old wedding invitations are about as romantic as it gets. (In true, long-lasting-marriage fashion after a day of decorating with wedding invitations, we ended our day in a spat)

Soren, Elliot, and Penny put up LOTS of their handmade valentine decorations as well, but somehow those ones weren't as photogenic! You can spy one of them four photos up.

Come as Children...

2012-01-29T14:54:00.000-08:00

"Permit the children to come to Me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these." Luke 18:16 (NASB)

On Sunday mornings, the children in our church stay in service until mid-way through. Before they are dismissed, they are called forward where the pastor might say a word to them, pray for them, and send them away. The pastor also has a little pillar candle he hands to a random child each week to lead the rest of the children up to their room. It is one of those flameless candles. Do not fret that our pastor actually entrusts small children, i.e. my boys, to carry flames through the halls of our building (though it might make the congregation's prayers for them a little more fervent).

I have had to coach my children (a certain 6-yr-old child most especially) about not asking for the candle each week, nor asking for it for his little brother (sweet, but still selfish), nor running ahead of the other children who have a turn holding the candle, and basically not to talk at all. Each week, my child's behavior gives me a new suggestion to file away for next time. He has also informed me that he only waits behind the candle holder until they leave the sanctuary and that there is nothing I can do about that.

The church claims they have this practice in order to allow the children to observe and participate in church. Bringing them up front gives the children a central role within the church. While that sounds very nice, I am suspicious they do this just to keep all the parents of young children humble. I know I'd like to pretend that somehow I, like the mother Mary herself, have somehow managed to produce sinless offspring that radiate peace and otherworldly-wisdom when they are shoved together without their parents, center-stage. Instead, it's Lord of the Flies for five minutes every Sunday morning. I am also suspicious they do this to provide the older members of the congregation with a good laugh.

This week, after encouraging my sons to quietly stand up front and not say a thing (you might think quietly implies not saying anything, but I find it really helps to make my wishes very clear), they went quietly to the front and didn't even flinch when the candle was handed to another young boy near them. A small victory! Now, this small boy pipes up "and NO ONE can run in front of me!" It's always a relief when it's someone else's kid talking up front - even if they are referring to the bad behavior of your own child. In fact, I usually find the other children's comments cute. Somehow it's never cute when it's my kid.

Of course, my son immediately decides that because the silence rule has been broken by someone else he now has the go-ahead to speak, too, and loudly, "Well, I always like to be the first one to the classroom."

The pastors eyebrows dart up, amused, and he quickly redirects them to prayer and sends them away while yet another boy (praise God it wasn't mine) says, "whatever." Our pastor never knows what he is going to get with the predominance of young boys in the small children's group. He does a good job keeping the peace. His prayer afterward mentioned something, of course, about coming to the Lord as children.

I started thinking about that. What does it mean to come to the Lord as children? In my head, that verse always reads with a childhood picture of several, beautiful, smiling, well-groomed children running into the arms of Jesus for a hug. I think there are several small, clean, white sheep lounging around, too. But now I have children. Mine are rarely well-groomed. What does it mean that the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these?

I thought about the boy who wanted to defend his position of leader. I thought of my boy who would unabashedly share with a room full of people that he always wants to be the first one into the classroom. In fact, he always wants to be the one to hold the candle. He always wants the first pick and he always wants the biggest cookie and the best toy and, and, and. This is also true of my other children (so much for my delusions of producing sinless offspring, huh?). I can tell you one thing about children, at least from my own experience, they always want the best and the first share of anything they deem as good.

Wait...children unabashedly want the best and first share of anything they deem as good. Hmmm...

Could this be what it means to come to the Lord as children? Perhaps that inherent selfishness is a good thing once the object of our longing is The Good Thing. Perhaps Kiekegaard was right that we ought to be infinitely interested in our own eternal happiness. Perhaps I could translate that as "unabashedly and selfishly interested in our own eternal happiness". Eternal happiness ought to be the thing we deem not only good, but best.

Of course, you and I know, my reader, that pursuing eternal happiness creates a lot of selflessness in this non-eternal realm. That being true, let us turn our inner-child eyes, which loom large when they see a good thing they want, toward the Kingdom of Heaven, and let us want to get there unabashedly. For the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to those who do.

Snowed In with Lucy

2012-01-19T11:07:00.000-08:00

I forgot...

2012-01-03T15:53:00.000-08:00

how tiny babies are
how sweet their milky breath is
how endearing it is to watch them try to nurse anything that comes remotely near their mouth (blankets, clothing, the back of their hands, air, etc)
how nice it is that they just sleep and sleep and sleep at first
how amazing it is to see them study the faces of the voices they know from in utero
how quickly you fall in love and wonder how you managed life prior to knowing this new person.

Lies and Cuteness

2011-12-30T14:52:00.000-08:00

Andrew and the boys went down to the supplement store the other day. Elliot was visiting with the lady behind the counter while Andrew found the vitamins he needed. When he came back to the counter the lady said, "So I hear you have a new baby at your house?"

"Yep, another baby girl"

Pause and slight hesitation from the lady, "and I hear her name is....Bingo?" she looks toward Elliot.

"No, no, it's Lucy."

"Ah, I thought Bingo was a little suspicious."

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After discovering a strange trail of small bruises down Penny's leg, I ask,

"Penny, did you do this to yourself or did someone else?'

"Someone else"

"Do you know who it was?"

"Yes, Brubra Søren"

"What did he do?"

"He poked me with a sword."

Hmm...too many details for a 2-yr-old to be making it up, but unusual behavior for my 6-yr-old.

Søren was invited to join us and denied all allegations rather genuinely.

Elliot was then brought in and also denied doing it, until we asked if he did something the day before, to which he admitted being angry and stabbing her repeatedly with a play sword.

I am grateful for honest boys. Why Penny identified Søren, I do not understand.

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Søren has been helping put away baby gifts. He had several little tags and plastic pieces on a baby blanket he was collecting to put in the trash.

"I'll just shake this out" as he shakes it open onto the floor, "then I'll fold it and put it - Oh! look how cute that is!!" as he sees the floral print and ruffles on the back side of the fuzzy blanket.

He is seriously cute.

Love

2011-12-29T13:22:00.000-08:00

Each baby girl softens this man's heart.

Lucy's Birth Story

2011-12-28T11:39:00.000-08:00

***Warning: This is a birth story. There will be words like uterus, placenta, squatting, cervix, dilation, and related details. Do not read if it will be T.M.I.***

Holding her head up from the moment she was born
(this photo from day 2).

Once again I am in bed on postpartum rest, and find myself with a few extra moments to reflect on the entry of another human life into the world and our family. (Penny's birth story is here and Elliot's is here. Søren was born before I began blogging.)

As my reader will know, we've been waiting for this girl to come and been up against a little bit of a time crunch. I had my list of things to-do to help induce labor, but I was avoiding the big ones (acupuncture or castor oil). In fact, I had decided that I simply wasn't going to do either of them. I wanted to let my body go into labor on it's own. My midwife had told me she was going to try to take the week off between Christmas and New Years, so I figured I might have some leeway in avoiding having my care transferred and needing ultrasounds.

Monday afternoon, my midwife called to check in with me. I asked her if she could technically transfer my care (to protect herself) and if I could then refuse to see the doctor and decline the ultrasound. She said she would give me until Wednesday before having to transfer care, and assured me that I would have to actually see the doctor for her transfer to be meaningful. She also told me that we should give the castor oil a trial.

I had eaten a high-protein breakfast, and was eating another high protein lunch. I took the castor oil recipe at 1:45pm. Meanwhile, I was spending the day taking down all the Christmas decorations. I knew that I might not have a better opportunity and that my husband would likely put things away ~~wrong~~ differently.

Castor oil can take several hours to take effect. Then can give some contractions for a few hours and peter out or it can kick-start labor. At 3:30pm I felt some of the gassy effects of the castor oil and had one trip to the bathroom followed by one good contraction. After that, nothing happened and I guessed that it hadn't worked.

Early Labor

By 5:00pm, I felt tired and laid down for a few minutes while my husband was making dinner. I came down and ate. Then I started to feel different. I decided to put the kids to bed at 7:00pm because I was starting to have some regular contractions and I wanted to be done actively parenting. I still wasn't sure if it was simply the castor oil. I was waiting to see if they would get stronger, longer, and closer together. Andrew and I dinked around on the internet while watching a BBC documentary on Yellowstone Park. I had checked in with my midwife around 6:30pm and told her something was happening, but we weren't sure. I called her again around 9pm and said, yes, this is probably happening. She told me to check back in an hour if they got stronger, longer, and closer. We were using a nifty iphone app to chart contractions. By 9:22pm I was having to breathe through contractions a little bit. Andrew said he wanted the midwife to be on her way, so we called back. We also called my mom, who was part of our labor team.

Active Labor

By the time everyone arrived (10:30pm), I was definitely feeling like labor was getting uncomfortable and discovered that I was dilated to about 4cm. Lucy had started in the optimum birthing position (back to my stomach on the left side), but had shifted over to the right. We tried some contractions while laying on my left side to help turn her back, but in my attempts to move her, she moved posterior (back to my back) and thus face up. We didn't realize this until she was born. As a result, labor became very painful. Let me say that part again - it was VERY painful. Nothing I did felt good or productive, just painful. We shifted positions a lot. It was quite different from Penny's birth, where a few positions were very productive and not as painful. For Lucy, I sat in my rocking chair until I felt like that wasn't doing anything, then we tried standing, but my legs were pretty shaky at first. I hadn't yet completely calmed myself because I was still adjusting to the transition to active labor. We tried hands and knees on the bed. We tried squatting on the toilet. I squatted a bit by the bed, tried standing again holding onto my husband, and we rotated back through all the other positions, etc.

Each contraction, I labored with my silent breathing and tried to very intentionally relax my entire pelvic floor while envisioning the pain and a wave of pressure that was pushing open the door that was my cervix. This seemed to be working decently.

Transition

Then, I hit a wall sometime after midnight and had a little lip of cervix left on my left side. This was the stall point with both Søren and Elliot that preceded their c-sections. Thus, it is my biggest psychological hurdle during labor. I kept saying that I felt like we weren't progressing. My husband told me later that he wanted to explain to me how ridiculous that fear was because we had never progressed so quickly before. I think that labor was SO much more painful than it was with Penny and the boys that time seemed to move differently. I felt like we had been trying for hours and hours with no success. Gratefully, Lucy stayed calm and happy with my good breathing and relaxing, so I knew we were not up against any time hurdles.

My midwife prayed over me and for the baby. At that point (1am-ish?), I was feeling the urge to push a little, but my water hadn't broken, and I still thought I was not fully-dilated. I asked if she wanted to manually break my water (which I had done with Penny) and she said no. I felt desperate for a sign that things were progressing. I also felt guilty because I was SO done being in labor. I wasn't even motivated to meet Lucy. The pain was so distracting that I just wanted to be done and to sleep. Truly, I didn't want to do it. In those moments, I didn't even want to have a fourth child. It just all seemed like too much work. I did feel grateful that I was not in a hospital, because I knew that in that kind of weakness and fatigue, I would not have had the energy to stubbornly keep fighting for a natural birth.

Pushing

Then my little urges to push began to push my sack of waters out. It was a huge balloon bulging between my legs. This had never happened to me, but I took it as a good sign that things were still progressing. It broke, and then we climbed back into bed for push labor. Still, Lucy's head was not descending. I could feel every movement of Penny and I wasn't feeling anything with Lucy so I was still discouraged. My midwife suggested doing a few contractions while lying on my back to help get Lucy's head to get under my pelvic bone (oh the dilemma of having a short torso!). The moment I laid down it was the WORST pain imaginable. I began wimpering and crying and rolled over to my left side again to try to calm down and recover. My husband knew something was seriously painful because I am typically an almost silent laborer.

However, my midwife still needed me as on-my-back as possible to get Lucy's head to pass under my pelvic bone. So I was propped up a little on one side to keep the pain to a minimal, and I had a leg up on someone's shoulder, and my midwife's finger inside me to direct the pushing. At some point during this time I actually was confessing that I didn't even want to meet Lucy, I just wanted to sleep. I felt like I needed to admit to those thoughts out loud so that I could focus on getting to that goal (sleeping). Again, I think the pain made the passage of time funny for me because I was feeling like it was taking longer to push than it had with Penny (not true), and further, I wasn't feeling Lucy descend at all. I kept saying things like "I don't think this is working." But my midwife and her assistant kept telling me that her head was, indeed, moving. They said I really needed to give it all I had. Frankly, I hate that part of labor. I felt like I was giving it all I had and that it wasn't good enough. However, my midwife's finger was actually very helpful because I could focus on that. In between contractions they were doing a lot of massage and stretching to help prevent bad tearing. I had a lot of scar tissue from Penny's tear and they were trying to stretch that tissue.

Finally, I could actually feel her head descending. But it seemed like very slow progress and it seemed like there was a long time between contractions (in reality, I am sure it wasn't more than 3 minutes). I still knew I had to stay calm and breath so that her heart rate would stay calm, too. She continued to be a champ, so I relaxed and trusted we could take all the time we needed (while still feeling like maybe it would never really happen). As Lucy began crowning, my midwife encouraged me to stop and let her stretch things and not be too eager to push her out (my body wasn't giving me much else to work with anyway). We even stopped at the "ring of fire" and stretched and waited for another contraction. Gratefully, I had been well-massaged and her head was smaller than Penny's so this did not hurt as badly as Penny's "ring of fire" moment had (where I very nearly sent myself into a panic attack). I think it took 2-3 contractions to get through the ring of fire and push her out (with the feeling of eternity in between them when I wonder if another contraction will even come or if I'll just be stuck like that driving to the hospital - yes, totally irrational). At that final moment she shot out and slid across the bed to be caught by my midwife. It was only 3:41am! My shortest labor!

After birth

Having her out was such a relief. It was not, however, euphoric like that moment was with Penny. There was no glow. It had simply been far too painful. It was just a tired relief. I did decide, that it was nice to meet her and that I would, indeed, keep her. I was also still very uncomfortable until the placenta delivered.

As usual, my placenta was impressive to the midwives. They said it did not look over 40 weeks and was very healthy. Again, further confirmation that my gestational period is 42-43 weeks, not 40. Lucy, also, showed no signs of being past due. Her skin was soft and not peeling and she was just perfect. She came out screaming and crying which none of our other babies have done. It was a little shocking! She also came out with a hand at her head and the midwife was pretty suspicious that she had been a thumb-sucker in utero. This meant she was used to sucking on little fingers and had to adjust to nursing, which she did like a pro. Per Søren's request, we woke him up so he could come meet her as soon as possible. He was very excited, but then went back to bed. She and I got to bond for about and hour before they examined and weighed her. Andrew cut the cord, and my mom put on her first diaper.

My tears were not nearly as bad as with Penny, but I still required suturing. Gratefully, the numbing actually worked this time, perhaps because the tears were not as complicated. I only had to breathe through the last one.

Now I am waiting for my milk to come in but I have been pleasantly surprised that I am not as wiped out as I was after Penny. Perhaps it is because labor was not as long. Perhaps it is because the positions we labored in were not as demanding on my muscles even though labor itself was more painful. However, I should mention - because no one had mentioned it to me - that by the fourth baby, the afterpains are intense. I'm still having contractions I have to breathe through, particularly while nursing. I don't know how long those last, but I look forward to it being done!

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We did not have anyone taking pictures during birth because Lucy came while our photographer was out of town for Christmas. As we got close to delivery, the midwife's assistant asked if someone wanted to go get the camera to make a video. I told them that no one was allowed to leave me, which made them laugh.

We should have a newborn session coming soon. In the mean time, I'll leave you with some pictures from today, day 2.

Very smitten siblings

Lots of love from Grandma

Welcome Lucy!!

2011-12-27T22:07:00.000-08:00

Lucy Georgia Noel

12-27-2011

3:41 am - 9lbs 3oz

21 3/4" long - 14 3/4 head circumference

She's our smallest baby (with the most hair)! Our birth story will follow soon. Thanks to everyone who was excitedly waiting with us for her arrival. She decided she wanted her birthday all to herself and free of all Christmas decorations.

Advent: Day 24

2011-12-24T21:35:00.000-08:00

Faces of people we love

Last night we went to a gingerbread making party. Today, perhaps with some final burst of nesting energy, we gave ourselves the gift of a very clean house. I feel like I've done that 4-5 times now in anticipation of Lucy arriving. Tonight, to avoid cooking in our clean house, we all escaped to a local Mexican restaurant for dinner where there was a party of about 24 people having their family Christmas Eve dinner. It was loud and festive and just right. We came home to watch The Muppet's Christmas Carol. It was a first for the kids. All that is left is to fill the stockings. When we wake up, it will be Christmas! I can't believe we made it here with no Lucy.

Dare I say I've had unprovoked contractions this evening? My Christmas wish is to have this baby before I have to do serious induction attempts. My mother's hope is that we get through all the Christmas festivities at her house tomorrow and then have the baby - still on Christmas.

Merry Christmas to you. I hope you know the peace of Christmas, that a light came into the darkness and that light is the light of the world. Thanks for following along on my Advent and Lucy countdown. I hope to have news to share with you soon.

Pregnancy Four: Week 41.5

2011-12-23T12:42:00.000-08:00

***This post contains frank details of pregnancy and natural induction methods, do not read if it will be TMI***

Yes, I'm still pregnant, but I've been this pregnant twice before. What is frustrating, given that my birthing history includes two c-sections, is that I start to bump up against time constraints. The fact of the matter is, unless I have grown an 11-pound baby aided by gestational diabetes (most likely), I am a 42+ week carrier. This baby still seems on the small side (probably just around 9 pounds).

The concerns about carrying late are that your placenta might give-out or that you might grow a baby too big for your body. I don't really buy the evidence behind either of those concerns. I do not think my body would be so foolish as to keep something it could no longer feed, nor to grow something it couldn't push out. I am especially suspicious whether the statistics apply to me given my birthing history. Some women carry longer. I am one of those women. Some women can push out 11-pound babies. I am one of those women.

The problem, is that I also have to be concerned for my midwife and her license. Technically, her policy is to "transfer my care" to a physician after 42 weeks. I can tell the doctor I want to wait for labor to come naturally, and I can tell him I plan on laboring at home for as long as I can. The doctor won't even notice if I never come in again, however, if I need to, I am already in their system. I am also supposed to get fetal stress tests and biophysical profiling every 3 days - starting Monday. I'm not afraid of being politely-stubborn with doctors. The problem is that we are paying for this pregnancy out of pocket, and we just cannot afford unnecessary costs.

What to do?

My midwife gave me a little list for natural induction methods. It looks like this:
*Evening Primrose Oil - daily 4 orally, 2 internally at bed.
*Walking
*Sex
*Nipple stimulation (to release natural pitocin) for 1 hour
* Acupuncture
*LAST RESORT: 2oz Castor Oil in 1 cup ice cream - blended - wait 4 hours and repeat if no contractions. Eat good protein meal and wait 1 hour before doing it (10am ish)

I'm doing everything but the last two items on the list. I can get contractions going for a while, but only mild ones, and then they go away. I take this to mean my body is not ready yet. Really, I am only 10 days late.

Can I refuse to have my care transferred? Can I refuse all the ultrasounds? Will my midwife still come over if I do? Will Lucy arrive before Monday and save me from over-analyzing? Will Monday morning involve castor oil?

Stay tuned.

Advent: Day 23

2011-12-23T11:10:00.000-08:00

Each year we add a title (or two) to our Christmas library. This year we added A Christmas Carol adapted by Stephen Krensky and illustrated by Dean Morrissey. The boys and I read it last night with a break after the first chapter for dinner. It was easily accessible for them and not too scary, even though it was about spirits. They have yet to watch a movie version, but I think we might do that tomorrow (assuming no baby is coming).

Other favorite titles from our library include I'll Be Home for Christmas (Toot & Puddle)

The Cobweb Christmas by Shirley Climo and illustrated by Joe Lasker. It looks like this version might be out of print, but the same title is available with another illustrator here: Cobweb Christmas: The Tradition of Tinsel

The Story of Holly and Ivy is a fun classic about Christmas wishes

We have a lovely vintage book copy of the real Christmas story, and some golden book variations as well, but my favorite "Jesus" book in our collection is Ezra Jack Keats' The Little Drummer Boy

For toddler-size silliness, we also enjoy Sandra Boyton's Bob: And 6 More Christmas Stories

We also have a Winter board book of Christmas poems and songs and several other titles with reindeer and elves and santa, but I am not particularly fond of any of them, so I won't recommend them.

My friend, Kathryn, recently posted some of her recommended titles too, several of which we have not read.

What about you? Any classic picture book favorites I need to add to our list for next year?

Advent: Day 22

2011-12-22T08:39:00.000-08:00

Last night was the family service at our church. It was the child/youth led service, and all the little kids got to help by dressing up as wise men, shepherds, angels, etc. They needed one extra wise man, so Andrew volunteered to stand up there with them, too. I primarily walked around in the entry way with Penny, who has not mastered the art of sitting quietly in a pew. One of the women from our church fretting over my going into labor during the service, which I tried to assure her was unlikely to happen.

Our service was a great reminder that we are supposed to come to God like children. I am grateful for a church that really does make Christmas accessible for the kids.

Advent: Day 21

2011-12-21T13:42:00.000-08:00

Four days until Christmas,
Things To-Do:

Buy stocking-stuffers
Write our Christmas letter
Finish knitting one last Christmas gift
HAVE BABY

I read another blogger's advent musings on how the Messiah sure took a long time to come (not to mention that He is taking even longer to come again). Sailing past our due date is not new for us. However, this time it did stretch us past our expectations. We thought our "due" date might be a fair expectation the fourth time around. Now, comically, I am not even sure we'll have a baby before Christmas. It actually occurred to me that I might be jinxing myself when I bought a onesie pack (over a month ago now) that had "Born in 2011" embroidered on them. My husband insists that we have it in 2011 for tax purposes. We shall see!

Advent: Day 20

2011-12-20T08:20:00.000-08:00

Simple pleasures

It was so fun to be back at my mom's house yesterday with my sisters letting the kids experience decorating sugar cookies. After years of feeling a little burnt out on Christmas (my parents produce holiday gift shows, so it was kinda Christmas all year round growing up), I find having kids helps me to finally enjoy the Christmas season.

Holidays with family are always a good time to see how much we've changed and how much we haven't. I enjoy my sisters much more now that we're all grown, married, and the bickering has simmered down. In even more exciting news, I get to become an Aunt sometime in the next month-ish (aside from the wonderful nieces and nephews I inherited through marriage)! I also love seeing my kids love on my sisters and my sisters love on my kids and I can't wait to see how our family changes as we add cousins.

Advent: Day 19

2011-12-19T09:03:00.000-08:00

Living While Waiting

This weekend we decided to make some holiday memories. First, we made sure we all had hot chocolate with whipped cream. Then we headed out for a walking tour of Candy Cane Lane in Seattle. It was dark and I am not very proficient with the manual options on my camera, so I took one flash picture so that you can clearly see the kids' faces. It was fun, but next on the list was the Snow Flake Lane "parade" downtown Bellevue. Andrew dropped the kids and me off while he found parking. We arrived just as it was starting and it was amazing! The kids hugged Rudolph, received treats from the Snow Queen, and were completely mesmerized by the drummers and snow concert. I did not attempt to bring my camera with us amid the crowd, but it was a wild mosh pit of happy little kids. My boys were in the very front row, bouncing up and down with pure glee, arms raised to grab the bubble snow for 20 minutes straight. It was really enjoyable to be out with a huge crowd of other parents laughing and singing and dancing and not being afraid to be silly. There were three drummers under the snow machine playing large barrel drums with water on the top that splashed up beautifully. Very well done, Bellevue. It was probably one of the best brief experiences of the boys' life.

Each day this season that labor does not come, I realize I have a choice to sit and wait or to live well while waiting. I am so glad I convinced my husband that we should go out and make some memories. None of us know when labor will really come. Labor remains forefront on my mind and I filter all my decisions so that we are poised in readiness but waiting does not mean that all other living has to stop. Waiting for Lucy could easily dominate this advent season and frustrate my other children. For as long as she does not come, I want to make the most of each moment without compromising staying well-prepared to meet labor and have a new baby in the house.

I mulled over this concept over weekend as I thought about Christmas and Advent being the celebration of the promised Messiah's first coming but also the anticipation and mindfulness that He will come again. We are called to watch and pray and wait with proper preparations. In the parable of the ten virgins, it is important to take seriously that the bridegroom is coming and to be prepared to be called away with him at any moment. However, in our real lives, we have to incorporate that readiness into daily living. I am pondering what it looks like, spiritually speaking, to truly wait for Jesus' return while simultaneously living well and productively in the moment.

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In other news, Lucy's delay has been rather accommodating. My mother and my husband have accomplished all their work goals and have not had to take extra time off. As noted above, we've still been able to enjoy the Christmas season and make good memories with the other kids. I am nearly done with Christmas shopping. We were able to have friends pass through last night and provide them a place to sleep and enjoy catching up. Late last night (early this morning?), I insisted on a dueling belly picture. I am twice as far along as my friend but we're pregnant together all the same. We were also pregnant together two+ years ago, but I do not think there are any photos to prove it.

I have been pleasantly surprised at how nice it has been not to get my wish of an early delivery. Lucy will certainly be a Christmas baby and we'll always have to figure out how to balance her birthday with the rest of our festivities. However, I am only now realizing that her delay is truly a gift.

Advent: Day 18

2011-12-18T08:00:00.000-08:00

I am usually not very crafty but, this season, it seems we're breaking out the crafts more than usual. Perhaps it is because I am too tired and bulky to do much else. Perhaps it is because the kids are getting old enough that crafts aren't as chaos-producing as they used to be. Whatever the reason, it is helping us pass the time waiting for little Lucy to arrive. The candy-cane reindeer were a quick and silly project we were able to enjoy with our neighbors. Penny, however, just ate a candy cane and watched the rest of us.

Advent: Day 17

2011-12-17T08:00:00.000-08:00

We finally have some presents under the tree! As I am such a procrastinator, I know this means we must be getting closer to Christmas. We'll see how long our 2-yr-old can resist these pretty packages, or they might just have to wait until Christmas Eve. In the past, we have filled stockings (chapsticks, toothbrushes, mini-tools, fruit, nuts, etc) but not bought them gifts (as they get gifts from family and friends). This year, we were planning on getting each of the kids one toy, and making it something they would truly enjoy. Those have not yet arrived to be under the tree. However, the kids have a tradition (that I had forgotten about) of using their savings to buy each other gifts. Yesterday, we ventured out to the toy store and they secretly scouted about and whispered their findings in my ear. Then my coat served as a hiding blanket in the cart. I am sure I looked quite silly at the checkout line doing my best to keep the coat as a shield until the nice check-out lady could get everything into the bag.

Many other bloggers have written eloquently on the balance of not making Christmas about consumerism while also not severing it completely from American traditions, so I will not try to add any philosophy here. I do think the kids will appreciate having more than one toy to open on Christmas, though it was not our original plan. It seems very fitting to receive the "kid" gifts from the other kids in your life (and aunties and uncles...I mean, isn't that what they're for?)

Speaking of gifts, Søren requested hearing the Christmas story straight from the bible the other night. We read from both Matthew and Luke (skipping the songs of Mary and Zacharias). We talked about the Magi's gifts being the reason we celebrate Christmas with gifts. Afterward, I thought about the gifts the Magi gave. They brought the child-King gold, frankincense, and myrrh. I am sure I've heard a sermon about why these were appropriate gifts for a King, but I don't remember any of those details. What I did think about was how quickly after the Magi's visit that Joseph was warned to get up and flee for Egypt. Having moved a few times myself - with small children - I imagine that having some very valuable gifts to trade for passage and lodging along the way must have been helpful. Funny how God weaves everything in our lives together for a reason. I'm pretty sure none of our gifts will be aiding the safety of anyone this season, but you never know what a simple gift might do in the life of someone else.

May we give with sincerity and awe this season, knowing that the real gift-giver is weaving even the mundane things together into a greater story.

Advent: Day 15

2011-12-15T15:24:00.000-08:00

Popsicle-stick Nativity.

Pinterest has been a great resource for craft ideas. We got the nativity inspiration here. Our version could use some hay and a halo, but the boys seemed very pleased to be able to paint their Popsicle-stick people. In fact, they insisted on painting wise men and shepherds so that they could act out the whole story (more truly, so they could keep painting), but they didn't all fit in the barns I had made. The nativity above belongs to Søren. Elliot made one too, but I cannot find it at the moment for a picture. I am sure you can imagine.

Søren's portrait of me

In pregnancy news: we're still pregnant. Upon reflection, after the full moon came and went, I realized all of my labors have been near the planetary shifts (zodiac changes). Søren's labor started on the day of the shift in August (then labor lasted 3 days), Penny was born the day before the shift in August. Elliot we had to induce with acupuncture or the hospital was going to force a c-section, and thus he was born 4 days prior to the shift in June (my guess being he would have been born on summer solstice if labor would have been allowed to come on it's own). All that to say, it makes me think we've probably got another 5-6 days until winter solstice and that's alright by me. I know that what comes next is actually harder than what we're doing now. Guesses aside, Lucy will come when she's ready.

Advent: Day 14

2011-12-14T08:00:00.000-08:00

Penny admires

Christmas with young children continues to stretch me. My kids have completely caught the fever of giving. This is a beautiful thing. Their hearts are so pure in it. Truly, I love it. They spend time each day cutting and coloring and rapidly devouring the stack of printer paper and rolls of tape I have set aside for crafts.

However, the practical side of me would like to explain to my sons that they are simply ~~wasting~~ using too much paper. I know I cannot say such things. It would be a disaster for their sweet spirits. The worst case scenario, I suppose, is that we run out of paper and tape. Yes, in about three weeks all of these gifts will likely be burned secretly by my husband and I after the kids go to bed. But none of that is the point. I need to work harder to do nothing but smile as the stacks of gifts from the kids accumulate under the tree (see photo). I need to focus on the inspiration they provide to give with such joy.

Søren's Sticky Note Art and Lucy Anticipation

2011-12-13T15:11:00.000-08:00

Declarations of Love

These are pictures of Søren holding Lucy while sitting on a couch with pictures hanging above them. The far left picture is of when Lucy gets older. "GG" is what they call my mom. (Feel free to click on any of the images to get a larger view.)

Here we have more of Søren and Lucy on the couch. What I find interesting about his little stick-art is the details, for example, the book shelf in the background of the picture on the right, or the way the photos hang - when nothing in our house is hung like that. The bottom left picture is Søren, holding Penny, who is holding Lucy.

I love seeing the way the kids all anticipate meeting Lucy. Penny had an epiphany the other night and excitedly told me, "I can show Lucy her bed!" Andrew and I are pretty sure she's expecting me to give birth to a little, 2-yr-old, best friend that she can take by the hand and give a tour of the house ("and these are your little diapers, and these are your baby blankets, and you can sleep here in this crib" etc).

Elliot still seems to think that Lucy will be his, as Penny apparently belongs to Søren. His eyes get really dreamy when he thinks about meeting her. It's adorable.

Advent: Day 12

2011-12-12T13:35:00.000-08:00

Our due date is tomorrow, and we've FINALLY (read: yesterday) named this little lady who is coming soon.

~ Lucy Georgia Noel ~

There are no signs of labor and I am suspicious this pregnancy will be more like my first two and go LATE (read: Christmas)

For the most part, I am quite comfortable and active, but often by the end of the day, I don't want to do anything but lie down. In those moments, I think of Mary, riding a donkey to Bethlehem in such a condition, thinking, "Lord, come quickly!"

Advent: Day 9

2011-12-09T08:00:00.000-08:00

Readiness

Advent is about preparing ourselves to meet Jesus. This advent, as you already well know, is also about us preparing to meet Lucy. I've never had a winter baby. We've given away all our infant clothing (but do not fret, we are already collecting new and used things so that we are well-prepared). We still lacked a hat. A couple days ago, I found a cute pattern online (with directions that do not match the photos) so I improvised and made my own version. It's actually my first knit hat and it was a 1-day project. Hopefully it will fit our little miss. I tried to make a 3-6 month size as all our babies have 15inch+ circumference heads. We shall soon see if it fits. In the mean time, I finally feel ready.

Come, Lucy, Come!

Advent: Day 8

2011-12-08T15:40:00.001-08:00

I know it's getting closer to Christmas when the cards start arriving. This is probably one of my very favorite parts of the Christmas season. I enjoy the pictorial and letter updates from friends and family. I enjoy being remembered. I always love getting real mail. This year the cards are going to form themselves into a tree on the wall above our dining room table. We are planning to double our Christmas card as a baby announcement, so we have to wait until there is something to announce. Nothing to report today.

Advent: Day 7

2011-12-07T11:39:00.001-08:00

Redecoration - Kid Style.

Every year there is a battle between the kids and me over our tree. I have learned to let go over the years and dedicate the bottom half of the tree to them. Their decorating sense is different than mine. They like to clump as many ornaments as possible on one branch. I, in my boring adult-ness, prefer them evenly distributed over the tree.

Kids have a way of stretching us out of our comfort zones. They challenge me to get out of my rut and re-examine what is beautiful and meaningful and important. Advent ought to be a time that does the same. The coming of Jesus (and the return of Jesus) should not become predicable and comfortable and known. It needs to stretch us and pull us out of our comfort zones so that our senses are heightened, so that we can actually have eyes that see, not simply eyes that are at ease.

Additionally, Christmas and Advent ought to be a time when children can experience wonder at, as well as acceptance in, our rituals. Do not hinder them from coming to Him, we are told. So I try not to hinder them from coming to the tree, either. I try to keep all the ways in which we celebrate Christmas approachable, despite my own aesthetic issues with their decorating vision.

Pregnancy Four: Week 39

2011-12-06T09:39:00.001-08:00

It's hard to believe
this is the face of sick.

Did you know that at 39-weeks pregnant you can throw-up every hour on the hour for 8 hours and not send yourself into labor? Not to mention endure the other castor-oil-like results that the flu provides. It really is amazing how protected those little lives are inside our bodies. It also proves that babies don't come until babies are ready - and that my babies often aren't ready until "late" (with the exception of 11-pound Penny). Of course, this littlest lady still has one week to make an early showing.

I had plans, prior to my night last night, to have a 39-week update that was full of optimism! Since my shoulder incident, I have felt better than ever. Andrew finally got over his kidney-stone-sympathy-pregnancy of 2011 (not sure I shared that adventure here, but there was a stone that had to be removed after being stuck for 13 weeks). Injuring myself forced me to rest more (with some help from friends and family). Surprisingly, having our kitchen rented out for two weeks (with a break for Thanksgiving week that meant we had a friend in town and days worth of leftovers), has allowed me to take it easy. I've been feeling like I can carry this baby to 42 weeks if need be. I'll just have to get over my theory that people hate having their birthdays near Christmas and figure out how to keep the celebrations fair and separate.

Hopefully, once I can keep food down again, my optimism and energy will return. I can certainly say I am glad I didn't have to labor with the flu. I am also glad we don't have a newborn being exposed to this flu. Can I also say that this is the weirdest flu we've ever seen? Penny has thrown-up 7 times, but spread over 5 days with several stretches of 24-48 hours between incidents where she seemed totally fine (4 incidents occurring in the middle of the night with only enough time in between to change sheets and hope it was over). I'm not sure now that either Elliot nor Penny (nor I!) are in the clear, but Andrew and Soren have yet to show symptoms. This is certainly not a 72-hour event for Penny, but I am hoping it will be 24 hours for me!

Advent: Day 5

2011-12-05T08:00:00.000-08:00

Anticipation:

Mary knew, while her belly rounded, that there was a little boy, named Jesus, inside her, but still, she must have marveled and wondered because she did not yet know him.

When we bought this ornament we did not know the gender nor name of our baby. Now we know we have a little girl, likely named Lucy, but still, I marvel and wonder because I do not yet know her.

Advent is a lovely and thought-provoking season to be pregnant!

Advent: Day 4

2011-12-04T09:43:00.001-08:00

Humble and Unfamiliar

Durable and Approachable

Holy and Mysterious

May your season be all of the above

Advent: Day 3

2011-12-03T08:00:00.000-08:00

This is especially delightful after a nice long walk and play at the park.

Advent: Day 2

2011-12-02T10:01:00.001-08:00

Village under the tree.

Their play nativity set came out today and visited the Dickens Village
(and by "village" read: two buildings and some trees with a bag piper)

PS - I'm going to try posting a picture every day of our Christmas count down. If I miss a few days, you will do well to be suspicious that labor has descended.

Also for your viewing and listening pleasure, I just discovered this advent site created by a friend of a friend of a friend. It's a song with art for each day.

Christmas is Coming

2011-12-01T09:11:00.000-08:00

In keeping with our traditions, we use the long Thanksgiving weekend to get started on Christmas preparations. My neighbor laughed and exclaimed, "You Americans!" I guess we get a little excited about Christmas. The Nobel Fir keeps for a month, so why not start early?!

We had a good friend (who happens to teach at a little college I like to shamelessly plug) in town for the weekend, too, which meant I didn't have to offer any help with lifting and setting the tree straight. Another dear friend does Christmas decorating for a local hospital and gave us a good amount of leftover garland. I was able to make several wreaths and decorate inside and outside, blessing our house with that good pine smell.

Our advent season will undoubtedly be interrupted at any moment by the most apt reminder of the season - new life. Until then, we will festively count down the days to Christmas.

Happy December!

Pregnancy Four: Ultrasound Report

2011-11-29T14:33:00.001-08:00

Profile with a pucker

Baby number four is officially a GIRL. That's right, my hopes for a sisterhood to complement the brotherhood in our house have come true. Now the real name hunt can commence as Andrew continues to dislike all my names. Feel free to give us your suggestions.

Rubbing her eye

In other ultrasound news (i.e. the real reasons for the ultrasound), my placenta is nicely positioned and my scar looks ideal for VBA2Cing. All the organs looked good too, and the little face looks just like all our other babies have when they first arrive. The technician said this one actually has a little bit of a fuzzy head, which is new for us. He also said that the placenta looks appropriately aged. This makes me hopeful that I might not go past my due date. During my pregnancy with Elliot (also known as the uber-pregnancy where very-nearly no dietary compromise passed my lips) the doctor said that my placenta looked 2 weeks younger than it was. I am happy to have this one look just right because 2 weeks past dates would give us a Christmas baby! Special as that may be, I would love as much distance as possible between this baby's birthday and Christmas.

Thanks for all your votes of support to wait for the gender surprise at birth. Ultimately, I decided it should be Andrew's decision and he just needed to know - especially if we do end up having to wait until Christmas to find out.

Traditions

2011-11-26T08:00:00.000-08:00

For the past few years we have had a November tradition of making a "Thankfulness Tree" (see 2009's). We add leaves to it daily with written notes of things for which we are thankful. Last year, the branch we found to make our tree was particularly pitiful. This year, I did not have high hopes for a better one from our walks so I decided to try for a thankfulness wreath by our door. As a result, we got a late start, but better late than never.

This year's list included the following:

Many names (of our family, our sometimes dog, and all the guests who were sharing Thanksgiving with us and making this the best Thanksgiving ever).

My Job (Dad)
Our New Baby (Søren)
Music (Søren)
Quiet Time (Mom)
Our new church (Mom)
Firewood (Dad)
No More Mustache (Mom)
The Christmas Tree (Dad)
Decorating for Christmas (Elliot)
For being big (Elliot)
Treats (Elliot)
Our family (Søren)
The Chronicles of Narnia (Søren)
Leftovers (Mom)
For Søren cooking us breakfast (Elliot)

Pregnancy Four: Week 37

2011-11-25T20:27:00.001-08:00

Photo from week 35

It is hard to believe that we have actually reached "full term" (full term ranging from 37-43 weeks - my average being 41.5 weeks). I had plans of trying to work myself into labor during Thanksgiving, but then discovered that my midwife would be out of town this weekend and that our baby is probably only about 7 pounds at the moment. I don't think it's even possible for my body to go into labor until we hit the 9.5-pound range. I was certainly on my feet enough Wednesday and Thursday. Gratefully, a 7-pound baby at 37 weeks likely means I will not be having another 11-pound baby (like Penny), but can shoot for a small one (9.5 pounds) like the boys.

My shoulder is almost fully healed. Thank you so much for all the support, prayers, and encouragement. I felt very loved. Those first few days were very discouraging, but finally did go see a doctor for an ex-ray to make sure there were no fractures, and then I was able to confidently stretch and exercise my shoulder back to health. I also had a dear friend come to the rescue for a couple days so that I could rest. I am not worried a bit about it interfering with labor now.

In unexpected news, my midwife would like for us to have an ultrasound. She is a renegade midwife here in Seattle, but she knows that taking on a homebirth for a woman who has had 2 previous c-sections could get her berated if she has not dotted all her "i's" and crossed her "t's," so to speak, if we were to have to transfer to a hospital. The ultrasound will look for scar integrity and placenta placement. She, nor I, nor Andrew, are concerned, but it seems the right thing to do for her own protection. I had a similar ultrasound scheduled when I was pregnant with Penny, but I went into labor before our appointment. This appointment is for Tuesday.

The big question this raises is whether we should also find out the gender. All along, Andrew has said it would be fun to know this time (since we've never found out - save accidentally a few days prior to Elliot's delivery). I have told him that I would let us find out if we had to have an ultrasound (of course, secretly assuming we would not). Now, the question is whether to find out. We are so close, it seems silly to ruin the joy of "It's a ____!" at birth. Of course, my husband, sister, and mother want to know SO badly. They are trying to appeal to me practically about knowing what clothes to have ready, settling on a name, etc. They have offered to keep it a secret from me. But my husband is terrible at keeping things from me (a good quality) and I would know immediately by whether he gave up the girl's name fight or not. I'm still not sure we'd be able to settle on a name until we meet this little person.

What do you vote? Find out or wait?

New House: Month Four

2011-11-18T08:00:00.000-08:00

Things that have yet to grow old:

Parking in a garage with a remote opener
Ample, non-carpeted floor space
My gas stove
Two fireplaces
The sunroom/rainroom/star-gazing room
A dishwasher
Laundry machines INSIDE my house.
Multiple bathrooms
Space, space, space

Yes, we still feel spoiled.

In which I grumble

2011-11-14T14:58:00.001-08:00

For the sake of honesty, I thought I should share how miserable I am at the moment. This has not been what I consider an enjoyable pregnancy. I know some women have it far worse, but it is simply physically taxing to have 4 babies within 6 1/4 years. I would never recommend it to someone just starting out. We have chosen it largely because of my husband's age. It is doable, and I do not regret it for a minute, but, the fact is back-to-back pregnancies take a huge toll on a woman's body.

Backstory, Part One

Aside from being sick the first trimester, I have had increasing varicosities, new ones almost weekly on my left leg/side. These are painful and usually leave me limping by the end of the day. Rest helps, but rest is hard to find with three other kids to care for, feed, clean up after, etc. To add to my discomfort, I have a rib slightly out also on my left side. So my left side has been my weakness. This hasn't been that discouraging. I can easily overcome minor - though persistent - pain. I can sleep on my right side. No big deal. This is not the source of my grumbling.

Backstory, Part Two

Now, for those who know me in real life this probably won't come as news, but I tend to over-estimate what I can do/manage/commit to. For example, this week I told my husband it would be fine to rent out our kitchen, Sunday-Thursday, from 12pm-5pm. Yesterday was more like 1pm-8:30pm. This requires more food planning than I am really capable of at the moment. Today, I did manage to get a pot roast in the crock pot before 10 (they decided to get an earlier start in case it takes as much time as yesterday), but still, I didn't think about snacks. (Yesterday we ate chicken strips for lunch and pizza for dinner. I probably gained 3 pounds and I ended my evening lying in bed with heartburn.)

Anyway, the grumbling is not because of the rented out kitchen (nor the compromised meals). But to understand the next part, you have to understand the kitchen part. A rented kitchen means that there are a ton of extra things in the kitchen. There are things like clear, deep, food prep trays. These sort of things may get left on the floor. There are also three little kids who don't fully understand why they cannot help the nice people in our kitchen. Oh, and the food being prepared is all intended for raw consumption. Therefore it is all the more important that grubby kid hands and faces keep their distance.

The Story

Penny had scooted a stool over to the counter yesterday afternoon and I wanted to grab her before her little fingers found their way to the food on the counter. I meant to step over a large clear tray on the floor to grab her quickly, but instead, I tripped on the tray rather ungracefully (remember, my center of balance is somehow not what it used to be!). Somehow, because of the size of the tray, I couldn't get my footing nor balance back. I fell hard. I fell on my side to avoid hurting my large belly. My shoulder took most of the fall. The outside of my right thigh came down on the side of the tray and left a nice welt and bruise. My head was knocked just enough to throw my neck out of alignment. I kinda hoped that perhaps all the jolting would pop my rib back into place, but that does not seem to be the case.

At first, I thought I was just beat up. Now that it is nearly 24-hours later, it is becoming clear I have broken or fractured something in my shoulder. I am fairly sure it is a minor fracture and nothing that some time in an arm sling wouldn't fix. But now my "good" side is damaged and, frankly, I am having a hard time not feeling discouraged. I am 36-weeks pregnant today. This baby could be coming anytime after next week. I already have felt ill-prepared (physically speaking) for labor. Now I am injured on top of it. My arms were such a crucial part of labor with Penny. Now I am not sure if I'll have the use of them. Now I have massive problems sleeping because my back is not an option at 8 months pregnant. Now I can barely fold laundry without crying.

I know that all this will pass. I know that soon - very soon - labor and pregnancy will be behind me and gone forever. I still trust in a good God who writes good stories - stories that don't free the characters from pain and consequences. I know pain and consequences have been the very best teachers in my life. I am grateful that the pain my shoulder let's me know when I am moving it in a way I shouldn't be while it heals.

I know all of this, but I still feel like it sucks. And since I am usually the kind of person who chooses to be happy regardless of my circumstances - and since sometimes that can make my life seem effortless and perhaps unreal to outside, internet, eyes - I just thought I would share with you that I am grumbling. I have cried a lot in the last 24 hours, and really, at the moment, I don't like my circumstances and the last thing I want to do is praise God for what He might be doing in them.

So, I guess I just thought you should know.

"Healthy" Halloween Tips

2011-11-10T21:45:00.001-08:00

I realize this post is belated, but I discovered a few of my readers were interested in how we celebrate Halloween, specifically in regard to sugar consumption since we try to avoid refined sweeteners as much as possible.

Tips for a great, calm, almost healthy, Halloween:

Alice in Wonderland

Let them wear their costume for days (weeks?) prior to Halloween, because it's fun.
Carve pumpkins the day of to add fun and festivity to the day and take the emphasis off candy. (We make a trip to the pumpkin patch as well, but that is more of a harvest celebration than a Halloween celebration.)
Pass out little raisin boxes, or Halloween themed pencils, or party store rings/dinosaurs, etc. so that there is not extra candy in your house to tempt.
Bake homemade cookies, or a pumpkin pie, so they are filled with a richer, thus more filling, and nutritious treat prior to trick-or-treating (and eat a good dinner).
Prepare some "tricks" for trick-or-treating. We learn several songs in case a wisened, old man responds by choosing "trick" instead of offering a treat. Again, this adds a non-candy emphasis to the evening. An easy one for young kids is "Pumpkin, pumpkin, round and fat, turned into a jack-o-lantern just like that" or you could do "5 little pumpkins," etc.
Let them eat some of their candy afterward while you watch "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown." If you are healthy most of the time, a little high-fructose corn syrup and food coloring won't kill you or your children. Additionally, they won't feel as badly about the next step.
The ultimate trick to our Halloween is that the candy they collect gets exchanged for a new toy. This might be tooth-fairy style (if I've planned ahead), or they might just get to head to the toy store the next day and pick something out. It depends on the year. The important thing to me is that the candy consumption is limited to one night and not spread out for the whole month. Usually my husband takes the stash to work, or leaves it in his car.

$4 worth of pumpkins from the patch

Knights for Aslan

When we follow these steps, the days following Halloween are not filled with children wildly screaming and running around the house, nor melting down from the sugar blues, but instead are filled with cooperative play enjoying a new toy together. It might not work forever, nor for everyone, but it's been great for our family during these early years.

How do you celebrate Halloween with little ones? Any tips to add to the list?

Also, just for fun, did you see this video clip from Jimmy Kimmel? My kids and I laughed to the point of tears. The last clip is the best.

Pregnancy Four Summary

2011-10-31T13:53:00.000-07:00

This post is more for posterity's sake than for you, my reader. It is more for my own memory and for my children. I would call this an update, but it occurs to me that I have hardly even mentioned here that we are expecting baby four. Tuesday we are officially 34 weeks. That means we could actually have a new person in our family in as little as three weeks (and certainly within five to seven).

One of the primary reasons I decided to return to blogging was because I read back through my pregnancy updates with Penelope and realized that I remembered almost nothing! It was alarming. So it turns out my mommy brain needs help, and this is such a convenient way to document.

For the record, I think I've gained 25 pounds since week 8 - but I'm not sure that I didn't gain 15 pounds before week 8. I don't have a scale though, so I can't be sure. I can be sure that something happened, because while hugging Søren around week 4 (when I was only suspicious that I was pregnant) he looked up at me with pure joy in his eyes and declared, "Mama, you have back fat!" Like it was the most wondrous miracle he had ever experienced. It was really all the pregnancy test I needed. Those maternal stores sure know what to do the fourth time.

Photo and support thanks to my friend Summer

Also worth noting, my midwife was concerned that I was too big too fast, so she asked that we have an ultrasound to rule out twins. Had I re-read Penelope's pregnancy updates, I would have realized that was a concern with Penny, too. Then I could have assured my midwife that I just get big fast. But I did not remember, and one of my dearest friends had just discovered that she was indeed carrying twins, so we had the ultrasound. All we found was one VERY active and bouncy little babe. It was too early to make gender predictions. The profile on the babe was, however, an exact replica of my husband's. Now he wants it to be a boy, simply not to burden a girl with having his face. I have assured him that he is pretty enough to be a girl.

Weeks 5-12 were awful. I have never experienced "morning" sickness before (by "morning" read: ALL DAY). With Penny I had a few actual mornings, in the first two weeks, that were rough, but easily fixed by eating orange slices before getting out of bed and weaning my toddler. This time, nothing helped. My husband was living and working in a different state, and it was all I could do to feed myself the the kids (take out) and read some books before bed. I am really not sure what we did those weeks. I know I sat on my front porch a lot as I couldn't bear the smell of my house. I think we walked a lot. I know I saw my other mama friends (not to mention other friends), and they were all kind enough to help wash my dishes on a regular basis.

My sympathies to all women who have suffered pregnancy sickness. I know mine could have been much worse. All I can say is, had my first pregnancies been like this one, I would not be having a fourth child. It makes me appreciate those early (younger) pregnancies so much more. At one point my husband came home for the weekend and said something to the tune of, "If I ever come home to find the house like this again, I..." at which point I told him to stop for, "If you ever say something like that again, I..." Those were hard weeks. I'm also not sure what followed the "if" clauses, but I know it didn't insinuate anything good. Suffice it to say that neither of us understood very well what the other was sacrificing and dealing with.

Then, we moved, making Penny's the only pregnancy where we lived in one place for the entire duration. I take comfort knowing that was (lord willing) the last time I will ever have to move pregnant.

I started binding much earlier this time around, and it was a great benefit. It made a HUGE difference in my energy. But now I have to stop as it seems to encourage this baby to turn breech, though it helped Penny to stay head down. There are other things about a fourth pregnancy (within 6 1/2 years) that are not so pleasant. The increased varicose veins are just the tip of the iceberg. If you are a pregnant person and want to talk about this stuff, just shoot me an email. I'll give you a few tips.

Now, I am trying to balance feeling done being pregnant (please, never again) with the realization this is also likely the last time I will get to feel secret kicks and marvel at the wonder of a new human being forming within my own body. It really is a miraculous thing to participate in, and I will very likely get a baby urge in a couple years and have to accept that that chapter of our lives is behind us.

Picture from 33 weeks - I am actually feeling small!

Baby four seems healthy and active. It still flips itself all around on a regular basis. All of my other babies have spent a little time breech, so it's no surprise that this one has, too. This is certainly our mystery baby. I have NO inkling on gender, which is really different from my other pregnancies. I think I'm just far too distracted. I almost forget I am pregnant most of the time, until I get a couple kicks. Hormonally, I think it is a little more similar to Penny's pregnancy than to the boys'. So if that means anything, I lean towards it being a girl. I'd like a girl. It makes a pretty picture, two brothers and two sisters, but, obviously, we are excited for whatever God brings us. His plan has repeatedly proven better than what I imagine is right for my life.

Everyone is excited to meet this little person. Søren told me a few weeks ago that he is SO happy that I am having another baby. He wants it to be a girl, and he'd like her to be named either Laura (because we read the Little House series) or Lucy (because we're reading the Chronicles of Narnia). I like the name Lucy, but I don't like first names that are really nick names, and I don't care for Lucille or Lucinda. We'd like to keep with a literary reference in the first name, but that is getting harder.

Elliot beams whenever we talk about the new baby, or whenever he gets to feel it kick. When Søren first met Penny, he turned to me and said, "Now you need to have another one for Elliot." For some reason, Elliot is taking serious ownership of being a big brother twice over, and becoming "one of the oldest kids" rather than the middle child. This is actually a big part of why we wanted a fourth child.

I have no problem sharing the naming progress, so for the record, I lean toward Theodore if it's a boy (middle name William or Justice, but Andrew has dibs on the middle name, so it might also be Ransom after the main character in the CS Lewis space trilogy). If it's a girl, Audrey (nothing settled for the middle yet, and if we keep with tradition, the girls get two middle names! We're thinking about Elizabeth, after my husband's enjoyment of The Sonnets of the Portuguese - yep, he's a sensitive one). My husband, as usual, does not yet like my name choices. We shall see. He is warming up to them. I had to remind him that Audrey was HIS preference during Penny's pregnancy.

How I spend an increasing amount of hours in my day
(can you see my popped belly button?)

Anyone - if anyone actually has read through this whole post! - want to play the guessing game on when this babe will arrive? Weight? Gender? I am not-so-secretly hoping to work myself into labor cooking Thanksgiving dinner so that we can keep December for Christmas and advent. But that might just be wishful thinking with the due date on Dec 13th.

End of an Era

2011-10-13T14:43:00.000-07:00

Penny

Elliot

It may sound melodramatic, but as I took these head shots of my three children yesterday, I realized that this is the end of an era for us. Baby four is, perhaps, only six weeks away - or perhaps eleven - either way is soon. You might think that by the fourth time adding another kid is no big deal. In many ways it is not. Nothing will change my life like the way going from "not-a-mother" to "a mother" changed my life. Then, learning to be the mother to more than one kid was mind-blowing. I learned that the human heart is capable of so much more love than I ever imagined. So, I do not expect to have my mind blown this time. I have fallen in love with three of these little people already. I know that will happen instantly. I know what it is to care for an infant while also caring for other children. Still, every child profoundly changes me, because I become that child's mother, too. Every child has changed our family. We'll go from being a family of five to being a family of six. Our home dynamic will change. We are adding a brand new person into our intimate little family with their own unique personality. We don't even know who this person is yet, and yet I know we will love him/her.

Søren

I can look back at pictures of just the boys, before our Penny was born, and those pictures seem like a different life. It is hard to imagine (or really remember) what it was like to only have my boys with no Penny. I suppose looking at these pictures of my three, I realized that this time next year I will see these photos so differently. They will be photos of "before," though, at the moment, they are my very present. I know this change is coming - and soon - and yet there is no way to mentally or emotionally prepare for it. You just greet life as it comes and let it change you. I will be transformed, soon, to a mother of four. Life will be different. This life, these moments, will become dull and hard to access when compared to the fullness that will be our new life with our new little one. I am sure this all sounds so basic, but it feels profound to be faced with it.

Happy Fall Haikus

2011-09-23T20:47:00.000-07:00

Autumn is officially here!
(though you wouldn't have known it today)

Welcome tea season

Herbs and spices simmering

Peace comes with slow sips

Puddles returning

Crunchy leaves in between them

Long walks required

Bye blackout curtains

It actually gets dark now

Children sleep longer

Last light without heat

West windows can stay open

May Fall ever linger

Homeschool Report: 2 weeks

2011-09-18T19:19:00.000-07:00

Things I don't want to forget from these early weeks:

Elliot already knew how to write his name... ? I never worked on this with him and I think it just shows how much he'll pick up from being around his brother learning.
The kids LOVE raising their hands, waiting to speak, reciting the pledge, and calling me "teacher". They even love recesses, even if they only last 5 minutes, allowing me time to set up our next task.
My house is somehow cleaner? I am not sure if having a routine makes keeping other routines easier, or if investing so much time into the kids makes them play so much better together afterward that it frees me up to be more productive, or ... ?
Yesterday we started classes at the Academy of Music NW as a part of our curriculum for Soren and Elliot. I am really, really excited about this. Hopefully next week we'll have a new suzuki teacher established as well.
Good, forever-lasting, play-dough is actually really easy to make (recipe below). Had I known this, I would have been making it years ago. Also, my kids could play with playdough every day.
Soren loves history and math.
Elliot loves math and playdough.
Penny loves saying "here" and raising her hand during attendance (yes, we take attendance) oh yes, and playdough.
Weekends actually have meaning again. It's kinda fun. Today we spent a good, long, family day at the zoo.

In case you are interested on why we have chosen homeschool for right now, please see my new page titled Homeschool - Why and if you are interested in what our curriculum and lesson plans look like, please see my new page titled Homeschool - What.

Playdough Recipe (taken from Slow and Steady Get Me Ready)
Ingredients
1 cup flour
1 tbsp oil
1 cup water
1/2 cup salt
2 tsp cream of tartar
food coloring
Directions
Mix all ingredients together in a medium sauce pan over medium heat until the mixture begins to clump together and form a ball (approximately 2 minutes). Turn out onto a lightly oiled surface and kneed until smooth. This playdough will keep indefinitely in a plastic bag or sealed container.

Quiet time is for...

2011-09-15T15:20:00.000-07:00

Homemade hot cocoa,

New books (Cormac McCarthy's "Cities of the Plain," Chesterton's "Orthodoxy"),

Real Simple,

and perusing the street paper Real Change.

All that to say, quiet time is really for putting my feet up for a moment.

Thrift-store Treasure Hunt

2011-09-06T08:00:00.000-07:00

On Sunday, we needed to get out of the house and be distracted so we headed down to the closest Value Village to look for hidden treasure. Here are our finds:

These little plates are actually coasters. $2
Perfect for the new blue chest we recently acquired.

Costume jewelry - $4
I replaced the hooks with my own
so I didn't have to worry about old,
used metal in my ears

Nine books for under $6
A couple of these titles are for upcoming home-school projects

Great school/craft supplies for $1 a piece.
These have already bought me several hours of sanity
as the boys create cutting projects

The Time We Spend Together

2011-09-05T08:00:00.000-07:00

My husband gave me a gift for my birthday that exposed many unexpected things. It was a watch. His card to me mentioned how grateful he was for the "time" we spend together. That was sweet. Now mind you, I am a 31-year-old girl who has never owned a watch - and that's not a coincidence. I don't like watches. I don't like answering to clocks and schedules. I keep my cell phone buried in my purse for emergencies, not for contact nor time telling. My husband knows this. At least, I felt like my husband should know this. He felt like it was a very practical piece of jewelry (and don't get me wrong, it was beautiful and discrete for a watch - it looked a lot like this).

I was a little bit crushed. I felt like we'd been together for 8 years and yet he didn't know me at all. Or worse, I felt a little like he wanted me to be someone I am not (especially later, after he confessed to knowing that I don't care for watches but that he wants me to take status and presentation a little more seriously than my hippie-tendencies allow).

My internal debate was strong. I badly wanted to be grateful for a gift, given with loving intent, from my husband. The fact of the matter was I couldn't bear to wear the thing for more than 1-2 minutes (I can not say for certain how long for it did not occur to me to use the watch to figure that out). He, of course, noticed at once when I was no longer wearing it. I again tried putting it on and again it lasted for another couple minutes. I don't know how to describe it. It felt like a leash or a collar. I would have preferred jewelry (I think I told him many years ago never to buy me jewelry).

The other side of the debate was wanting to be honest and wanting to be known. It was such a nice gift and I had to tell him I hated it and would never wear it. I am not a career woman - and by choice. For me a watch represents all the things I do not value and have not chosen (no offense to women who love watches and careers, I just do not). My husband, of course, wants to know that kind of stuff. Our goal in marriage is to keep knowing and being known by one another. I am so grateful for that. To keep quiet would be to set the course for years of lying about appreciating things that I do not actually appreciate.

I suppose I knew that this new chapter of our lives would challenge us in new ways. For the 7+ years we have been married we have, primarily, struggled financially. We have learned to do marriage well amid financial difficulty. We have learned to love the mundane, the simple, the charmingly used, the lovingly handed down, and the mercifully gifted. We've come to love the intangible things like good communication, good romance, delightful children, wonderful friends, supportive community. These are the true riches, and we have had them plentifully.

Pleased with our vows

With the very sudden transition to a job that takes us a few steps up from our previous financial standing, I knew we would be faced with new challenges in our marriage. I worried about what our life would look like together when struggling just to survive was no longer our grand mutual effort and our known pace. I can't say we're making this transition smoothly. It's weird, and in many ways I feel like I am suddenly married to a completely new person - and one I am not sure I like as much as the old one. Of course, I know he is ultimately the same person, and that we are simply learning a new normal and learning new sides of each other that our "survival posture" never exposed. I know we both signed on for life and I know we both fundamentally like each other a lot. We're still very good at talking, even about hard things like this.

The new purse

The watch told me something obvious. It told me we don't know how to buy each other gifts because we've never been able to. Most people might have figured that out after 8 years together, but we're just embarking on it. It's not that we haven't learned a great deal about each other in 8 years, we simply haven't learned about buying each other gifts. It also told me something that was hiding under the surface. We want slightly different things from this new chapter of our lives together. I decided to compromise by using the returned watch money to buy a purse that I ordinarily would not have (I haven't spent more than $5 on a purse a thrift store for many years). It is still fairly basic and classic. I think it kept with the idea that he wanted my "look" to have a slightly more elevated status than my thrifted, hippie purses have. (I also got myself a second pair of Tom's in a different color. Now that is what I call practical.)

The watch told me something else. Namely, that having more to learn about each other is a good thing. Further, having a partner who truly wants to keep discovering together is very good. If we had each other completely figured out, we'd have a lot of boring years ahead of us. I would never want the time we spend together to be bland.

Lost Tooth

2011-09-04T15:10:00.000-07:00

The night before Søren's 6th birthday (i.e. the night of August 23rd), he was biting a toy and freaked out because he thought he knocked a tooth loose and that he might lose it. Søren's daddy and I, of course, immediately realized he had his first loose tooth. I, myself, might have cried, except that Søren completely lost it, worried so badly that it was not yet time for a loose tooth and he might just have a gap there for years to come until an adult tooth was ready to grow. Once we convinced him that it would either get solid again on it's own - if it were not ready - or continue to get loose - if it were ready, he calmed down. We also told him that year 6 is usually when you lose your first tooth.

Søren in love with his tooth,
moments before it was really lost.

After hoping he might lose his first tooth on his sixth birthday, and then worrying that he might lose it at the beach - and would the tooth fairy know where we were? We finally gave up on thinking about it much. It would come out when it would come out. We were not going to traumatize him by trying to help it along.

Yesterday (September 3rd - 11 days later) after a day of activities, during which I certainly had forgotten about the tooth, we came home and all of the sudden he rushed to me excitedly showing me his tooth. It had finally come out! He said he suddenly found it in his mouth and thought at first there was an unexplained nut in his mouth. Lo and behold it was his tooth. I was so excited for him, as he kept showing me his freshly gaping hole, that I ran to get the camera. It was a bit cloudy, so I told him to come outside with me for a picture of his gap and his tooth. We took the first picture (see right). Then during the time I examined the picture and saw that his eyes were moving from the camera to his tooth and thus I wanted to take one more with his eyes in one fixed place, I saw the tooth slip out of his hand and bounce between the slats on our decking.

I instantly exclaimed "Oh no!" as I saw it slip away.

Søren's letter to the Tooth Fairy

He quickly spouted, "It's alright," and started to walk away. I stopped him and turned him around to apologize and he started sobbing. I told him it was all my fault for I was making him pose with this silly tooth outside instead of protecting it when we could have just taken an indoor picture where the floor was solid. He came in and sat on the couch and cried it out with me. Poor guy. I just completely ruined the first tooth moment by trying to capture it on camera. Mom failed.

I explained that we had a couple options. Thankfully, his daddy can do just about anything, and I told him I was sure Daddy could lift the boards up off the decking and we could retrieve the tooth. I also told him we could write the tooth fairy a note telling her where the tooth was so that she could retrieve it - fairies being so small and magical and all. He opted on leaving her a note and dictated it to me before bed.

The Tooth Fairy's letter to Søren \

This morning, he found she had written him back. I had seen this idea on pinterest some time ago and wanted to incorporate it into our tooth fairy routine. It was perfect for her to write him a response in a tiny, tiny letter, not to mention set the precedent from receiving letters along with his tooth money. He was so excited about the tiny letter. While I was barely waking up, he started asking me questions about what kind of materials fairies use to make paper. He also confessed that he had thought that the tooth fairy was really just me, but that I would have written a letter on normal sized paper. His fairy is compassionate, but firm. She only gave him part of his money, with the rest waiting for when the real tooth is under his pillow. Asking for money while also asking her not to take the tooth was a bold move by Søren. It was nice to know that his fairy is nice, but not a push over.

Very excited about his letters

Now we also have to wait for Søren's Daddy to have the time and energy to pull up the deck boards so he can cash in on that second half of the tooth paycheck (apparently happening this evening. My husband just has to remove 20 screws and hope that I have the right board picked). I think that our first tooth adventure ended well despite my own major failure by making it a truly lost tooth.

***Update 9/4 7pm: The tooth is recovered and will shortly be under his pillow.***

***Update 9/6: Søren, upon placing his real tooth under his pillow, wanted to write the tooth fairy another note. She, of course, wrote him back. Their correspondence can be seen below. The following night, Søren wanted to write her again, but I told him that the magic only calls her to check under his pillow when there is a tooth out. He'll have to wait for the next one.

Front of his thank you note

Back of his thank you note

Tooth Fairy's 2nd response

Choosing Laughter

2011-09-03T13:47:00.000-07:00

The last few days have been rough, transitioning back from a beach vacation without Andrew, Andrew working into the evening hours, feeling like I'm still a single parent, though completely removed from the village that used to help me raise my children. Andrew and I are working on finding balance with his new job (that he loves, and for which we are entirely grateful) and having a family and marriage. It's just change, and change is always stressful and requires transitions. Rather than be entirely tempted to run screaming and give myself a good long break from everything (in all honesty, 4 hours would probably do it), I decided to remember why my kids (and husband) are the best things in my life. Truly, I have it very good and wouldn't want it any other way.

During my reflection and practice of gratitude rather than grumble-itude, I found this journal entry from a month ago and thought I'd share it here:
--------------------------------------
Things that made me laugh out loud today (August 4th, a warm day):

Penny, while getting changed, and thus only in a diaper, ran over and straddle-hugged our large box fan with a large grin.

Elliot, after I roused him from nap (to prevent so long a nap that he would have trouble falling asleep at bedtime), told me he wanted to stay in bed and kiss. Then he proceeded to reason with me in gobbildy-gook. I, of course, responded in kind, and he gleefully kept at it for a few more minutes of totally irrational conversation with me (and kisses)

Soren, after beckoning me to a back-yard game of soccer while the other kids slept, started talking to me about the things he gets to do when Elliot naps. He confessed to filling a cup holder with water in the garage (on our removed back seat which was left in there folded down in the mode that serves as a tray and cup holder). He used this as a wading pool for his playmobile guys. Then he told me that he drank up the water (complete with the facial expressions that kept his lips from coming in contact with the cup holder) and then used toilet paper to wipe up the last of the water so that I'd never know, and tucked the wet toilet paper away deep under the seat. After a good laugh I tried to tell him that we would find the toilet paper as soon as we unfolded the chair.

Found in Boys Room

2011-08-03T11:03:00.000-07:00

1 brown paper bag with the following contents:

1 Batman costume (belt, cape, hood, and suit)
1 orange rubber dragon fly
1 orange plastic, whiffle-style, golf ball
1 wadded up ball of packing tape
1 grocery shopping list
1 aging zucchini

Glad I found this sooner than later.

Valentines Crafts

2011-02-11T07:00:00.000-08:00

Check out some great Valentine's Day "Love Bug" (and other) ideas on my dear friend Laurie's kid crafts blog. Also, if you click on the top photo you should be able to view it larger to see our variation ideas (paint, yarn, stickers, cut outs). We can't wait to share these little buggers at our violin studio party this afternoon.

For The Love Of A Ball

2011-02-10T11:54:00.000-08:00

I jotted this down several weeks ago, but I just found it buried in my purse and decided to share it here.

The sun is on the brink of breaking through the clouds and it makes the rain sparkle as it lightly falls on my boys. They are kicking a ball through the field by the milk barn at the farm where we get our milk. They are laughing and panting and trying out footwork. My husband is laughing and running with them. Their steps fall in unison and I see boyhood and brotherhood and a father's pride. A horse runs in from pasture sensing the urgency of play. He watches, his tail held high, with great interest, nearly wishing he had two fewer legs.

The younger brother follows, almost never catching the ball, but knowing the chase is important, is vital. On gravel, the elder slips, falls. He thinks about whether he should feel hurt. His little brother gives him some "forward and onward" pats on the back and butt. Then the younger falls and he knows this pain qualifies him as a player. He, too, is determined not to hurt, and a bond is formed. They become tougher together, for the love of a ball.

As a mother, I store these moments up in my heart. I think of Mary and Jesus. Jesus, who was once a boy. Only after ten minutes does the fun turn into stronger competition. The younger brother does not care. He would follow his brother anywhere, enduring torture, while loyal and full of grace. His world is so secure, in having a big brother. He loves his place.

As chill settles into our bones, we load our milk. The ball finds a puddle and the children hesitate to know which instructions deserve priority. How can they pick-up the soccer ball when soccer players are not allowed to use their hands? So they kick, and discover what it is to play when your socks are wet and your bones are cold. They play on with a new found glee at the work ahead of them. Daddy's practical admonitions about wet shoes are lost on them. They have discovered commitment and joy.

Love Notes

2011-02-02T19:55:00.000-08:00

Happy February!

Merry Christmas!

2010-12-24T06:00:00.000-08:00

A few of you may have received this letter by real post, so feel free not to read it again. For the rest, here is our Christmas letter this year (I wish it were arriving with a stamp). It might help shed light on why blogging took a back seat for me in 2010.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Greetings!

Seven years ago, Andrew and I were engaged over Christmas. Andrew told me then that he wanted us to be one of those families that sends out pictures and Christmas letters every year to family and friends. I noted this, amidst finals and wedding planning, and promptly forgot it until the following December. Pictures seemed silly with just us and our cat. Our first Christmas passed without sending cards and subsequently each Christmas thereafter has passed without cards, let alone photos and letters. But here I am, sending you a recent photo (whose credit belongs to my sister Jennifer) AND this Christmas letter. Forgive me if it is long. I am making up for lost years.

I was recently discussing Christmas letters with some women from my church. We were all lamenting how they have a tendency to show only the pretty stuff, by which I mean all the good things, the highlights. They paint our lives as if they are free from suffering, pain, and mistakes. I have received such Christmas letters in the past and I understand that it is easier to share the happy stuff and the good news. Who wants a letter full of depressing tid-bits? But if the Christmas letter serves as the only touch point over the course of years, it does seem that sharing a little more genuinely is in order. We all had examples of friends whose lives were always picture perfect, and then suddenly a last name changed, or someone was no longer mentioned - without a hint of explanation.

So my picture is not perfect. None of my children are looking at the camera, but this kinda typifies our life. There are five people in our house. There are five people making messes. There are five people’s interests and preferences bumping up against each other. Not to mention five peoples voices, three of which really do not see any value in speaking quietly. One lesson from the children - if it is worth saying, say it loudly!

2010 was a difficult year for us in some ways, and a tremendously rewarding year in other ways. We have had three different addresses this year. They were not all moves up, either. The moving was stressful in itself. Andrew has lost two jobs and juggled 4 others. He was faithful to work evenings doing janitorial work, actually winning “employee of the month” in May. We have been humbled and nearly broken. Moving into our current home, we had no dishwasher, no laundry machines, no money for laundromats, and a huge task of purging as we had to squish belongings for a space more than twice this size into this little house with virtually no storage. I struggled greatly in an attempt to be content in such a circumstance (remember what I mentioned above about five people making messes).

Alongside those struggles have come rich rewards. We have been forced to think critically about our priorities. This means we choose to have a piano instead of a TV. It means we have fewer dishes so that I can use the kitchen more, and no dishwasher so there is room for a kitchen table. It means we spend our after-the-kids-go-to-bed hours talking instead of watching movies. We have been forced to learn to live together well, or at least, much better. There is not room for grand temper-tantrums, nor grudges. We have been forced to de-clutter and get organized (though this is an ongoing process). There is simply no room to keep “someday projects.” I either have to do them, or pass them along. This has forced me into action and decision. We live more simply and more purposefully. Additionally, we have learned to be loved by our community. This has been extremely humbling, but it has also been a potent reminder of how remarkable it is to be offered grace. Our church and friends have come alongside us, generously providing a temporary space from which to transition into finding a smaller home, relief from some financial burdens, and a great working washer and dryer (which may have saved my sanity and health). We are so excited for the day when we can give back in the manner in which we have received.

The night Andrew was awarded employee of the month, another momentous journey began. He met with the Chorus Director of the Eugene Opera to see if he could recommend a voice instructor for Andrew with the hope of someday being able to sing in the opera. The chorus director himself took Andrew on as a student immediately and prepared him to audition formally in July for the Eugene Opera. His audition went well and he has performed in several small promotional events with the first “real” opera taking place over this New Year. Andrew is in the chorus with a small solo. This has been an amazing experience for our family. Andrew is more at peace than ever now that he has returned to his first passion, singing. We have every indication that with continued hard work, Andrew should have no problem pursuing a full-time career as an opera vocalist. Though for now, he is a carpenter by day, and chorister by night.

After many years of mistakes and failures at a career level, it feels wonderful to have a taste of success. We have wondered, if, perhaps, God had to make everything else Andrew touched (in regard to career) fail in order to bring him back to what he was made to do (of course, those failures were all valuable life lessons that I think will allow him to pursue music with a fervor and purity that he would not have been capable of 20 years ago). Another life lesson from this year: Trust God’s story for your life - even in the dark places.

Looking ahead to 2011 we are anticipating being in one place long enough to plant a garden and perhaps add some chickens to the backyard. I am looking forward to Andrew having stable work and adjusting to his opera schedule in a way that allows me to turn my attention to some writing projects that have been on the back burner for a long time. Both boys will continue studying violin and our house will remain filled with music-making and homeschooling adventures. I also know 2011 is bound to bring with it unforeseen challenges and mistakes, for this is life. I pray that we all give each other the gift of grace to share in both the joys and the sorrows that will inevitably come our way.

Merry Christmas! May the rest of your holiday season be filled with hope. May we have hope for the marvelous possibilities of a new year, as well as have hope for the day Peace on Earth really does come, when all the sorrows and failures of our lives will be removed and redeemed.

With love,
Andrew, Marianne, Søren, Elliot, and Penelope

Chuck

2010-12-10T23:14:00.000-08:00

My friend is far too young to worry about his height shrinking but his waist has lost too many inches. He does not remember to eat. It is likely he will not grow old enough to shrink, because his memory is shrinking, his mind is shrinking. Of course, he lives inside his head without noticing. In his head, he is ever present, and sees no symptoms of what the rest of us cannot miss within a 5 minute visit. He continually complains that people come in and out of his apartment and take and remove things, and this is just the way life is now. I cannot tell him that most of those people are him. My friend, as I knew him, is slowly leaving. I wrote a poem once, in junior high, about losing a friend to depression that lead to an attempted suicide through overdose. In my mind, I was trying to describe the withdrawal I saw in her and how it left those around her helpless to know how to help.

Alzheimer's feels like this. Of course, it is not depression at all (though it certainly is depressing while you're still sharp enough to know what it all means). It is nowhere near the same as suicide. However, the growing distance and threat of separation feels similar. The helplessness feels similar. It often feels like he is in a place where I can no longer reach him, even when we sit together and happily converse. I already can't really call it dialog, though two are present. There is not much hope in any significant back and forth other than soothing emotions of the moment and sometimes catching a rabbit on it's trail long enough to pet it once or twice. There is not much hope that any particular thing said might stick through to our next conversation. Yet enjoying a friend's company still transfers. He felt better to have a caring friend listen for a couple of hours. His spirits were much improved. I do not think he remembered that they were ill when we began. He is still quite well. He functions well. He still gets to have a real life for as long as this stage lasts.

It is a strangely beautiful thing to watch even the dark parts of God's story unfold. On the drive over to see him, after dropping the kids off at their grandmother's, I put it music I don't usually get to enjoy. I sang, and reflected, and yes even cried. "Pain is our mother. She helps us recognize each other." There is so much that God authors that I do not understand. I mourn these things. There are so many unnecessary pains and sufferings in this world (Alzheimer's barely scratches the surface). Yet I was struck at how much more real our connections are with another when we realize we both suffer, when we feel the same ache. My friend has the honor of being able to serve as a chaplain in the assisted living community he is moving to next week. We talked about him being able to help people who ask "If there is a God, why does he let [fill in debilitating, painful condition/circumstance here] happen to me/my loved one." He gets to live this question out personally, while still praising his Maker.

That is the serious side, but there is a lighter side too. I look forward to the day when he "gets saved" regularly. I have often wished I could truly experience the excitement of the Gospel every day. He may get to do this. There is so much to laugh over when your mind begins to fail you - and more so when your friend's mind is the one failing. It is not unlike parenting. It requires patience, care, and a good sense of humor. You laugh or cry, or both. It is terrifying, to be sure, perhaps more for those on the outside. He thinks he's fine. Diagnosed, but no obvious symptoms yet, he thinks. To correct him would be cruel, unless not correcting him in the moment is dangerous. For me, the threat of him driving down to see me by himself required serious action. So I drove. I visited. I photographed it, for perhaps it will help him remember it hasn't been years next time we talk. Perhaps it will not, but still, there was this moment. Despite whatever reflection and tears we may shed, there is still so much to laugh about and enjoy together.

Refashioning for Dressember

2010-12-07T12:37:00.000-08:00

I have been following Grosgrain for a long time. It is the only crafty blog I follow, but I find her projects so inspiring. You may remember the "Frock by Friday" I participated in through Grosgrain last Spring? November was "Embellish Your Knits" month. She has tips for embellishing and creating a month's worth of cute cardigans.

Attempting to wear a dress today, for Dressember, I decided I should turn an old brown box sweater into a cardigan. I used this tutorial from Grosgrain. I cannot say I did this perfectly. I think the fabric was a bit thick for the bias tape I used, and I didn't really pin or measure anything...so it is imperfect. However, from pull-out-the-machine to wear-and-photograph only one hour passed (with little ones underfoot), so that works for me. I might try embellishing it further a little later, for now, I am warm and wearing a dress.

I had a lovely hour-long adventure to Goodwill the other night and found a $2 bag of sewing things (random rickrack, bias tapes, etc). I am now equipped to tackle some of those knits that I cannot bring myself to throw away, but that could use some sort of update to be wearable.

My dear Elliot wanted to model with me.

Detail of the Ribbon (and evidence that I need to do a little more work to hide the fact I was using blue biased tape)

Sweater before

Dress: "Vintage" Old Navy

Tights: Hue

Clogs: Sanita

Cardigan: Gap, refashioned by me!

Grosgrain Ribbon: Saved off bedding packaging

A Mother's Freedom (and happy Dressember)

2010-12-06T12:47:00.000-08:00

Today marks the first day I have weaned a child without already being pregnant with the next. That means today is the first day I have had my body completely to myself in over six years. It has not come back in quite the same condition as I gave it six years ago, but I wasn't expecting that (and the little people are more than worth it).

Today I am celebrating by drinking a LOT of raw milk and by participating in Dressember (at least today) at the prodding of Steph. I always laugh when I participate in these fashion things, but they are fun, and I need the help to take getting dressed more seriously (so my husband has something remotely pleasant to come home to).

Dress: "Vintage" Banana Repulic (this has literally been in my closet since 1994)

Jeans: Levi's

Tank: Great Outdoors

Scarf: Hand-dyed down the street (birthday gift from my husband)

10 Quick Confessions

2010-11-22T21:33:00.000-08:00

1 - I miss blogging and I don't, all at the same time. Mainly, I think I miss interacting with you, my reader.

2 - I have recently stopped washing my hair with baking soda. I also have not been washing it with shampoo (because after 2+ years of baking soda and apple cider vinegar, I have none). Yeah, that means I am just using water. Yes, this is a short-term solution. I hesitate to go back to shampoo, because I do feel that it strips too much natural oil. However, I am suspicious that the years of baking soda might have straightened my hair, and I like having wavy hair. The straight hair could just be the result of my last pregnancy with a girl. All those hormones can do funny things.

3 - I am really bad at staying on the gluten-free, dairy-free, nut-free, eggwhite-free diet for the above mentioned girl. She is down to one feeding a day, and I can't wait to be able to drink a quart of raw milk each day again (though it might be less since I will no longer be nursing!)

4 - I *might* be ready to be done having kids. I am not totally certain, but a small house sure makes it tempting.

5 - Small houses are HARDER to keep clean and housecleaning has never been my gift. All this considered, I am feeling rather good about the state of my house and how much purging I have done to make this space work.

6 - However, I am still really bad about hand-washing dishes and our dishwasher broke. We got rid of the broken dishwasher and I like the kitchen space better. Now I think I'll have to get rid of some dishes!

7 - I tried some exercise thing tonight called Tabata. As a result, I can't really move my legs, thus I am blogging rather than hand-washing the rest of tonights dishes.

8 - Homeschooling is being held rather loosely this year. I read "Boys Adrift" by Dr. Leonard Sax, and thus I do not feel guilty about waiting on more formal schooling. (for the record, mainly in case my mother is reading, Soren has all his basic phonics, can sound out most anything, and can count to 100. He also does basic arithmetic - DO NOT PANIC)

9 - I am also, as a result of the book, coveting people who can send their boys to one of the many awesome all-boys schools mentioned in the book (I mean, it's only, financially-speaking, like sending your kids to college for their entire K-12 schooling. That's totally realistic, right?)

10 - I have started two other blogs since I "stopped" blogging in July. I don't write on them either. If I get anything going, I'll be sure to let you know.

What about you? Any confessions for me since I've left the blog-o-sphere?

Ancient Rituals

2010-09-23T10:21:00.000-07:00

She sprinkles the salt and then begins the pounding. Her muscles remember. The rhythmic beat fills the kitchen. Her arms won't tire until the second batch. Even then, she will continue, making her arms strong.

How many such batches of cabbage were beaten into sauerkraut in a kitchen that has seen nine decades? How many generations of mice have created ceremonies under the skirting board to the drumming of the pounder. The seemingly-unknowable returns and silences must not be unlike a mysterious force in the universe. Dances and prayers and fear and trembling when they return, then songs of thanks for the rain of cabbage scraps.

What happened to those tiny traditions when the humans ceased their own homemade traditions for store bought varieties? Have the new generations scoffed at their ancient marches and thunder dances, praying for a rain of cabbage? What do these new generations think now, as the pounding has returned after decades of silence? Do they still scoff, adding scientific explanation and careful study to the frequency and cause? Do they pause, humbled, and recognize old promises do come true?

If walls could talk....
If mice kept histories...

May we remember our ancient promises.

Notes on Napkins

2010-09-21T23:18:00.001-07:00

My Dearest Husband,

Remember that your efforts may not always please Mr. Fitzpatrick. Know that this is okay because they almost always please Soren, Elliot, Penelope and I. We know how you strive to provide so well for us. We are very proud of you.

Remember also that your many good efforts may - occasionally - go unnoticed and unappreciated by even us, your family. Know that even this is okay because, ultimately, you are only working for your Heavenly Father and no good thing escapes Him.

May He see you today and be pleased.

Love,
Your Wife

There Is A Season

2010-07-27T22:59:00.000-07:00

Something has changed for me in the last couple months. Somehow I have taken on the adjective "blogger" as part of my life descriptor. Obviously, I have been tending this little blog for several years now. However, it was a little like when I first had Soren. I only thought of myself as a young wife who happened to have a baby. Somewhere along the line I actually became A MOM (I know, major life adjustment!). I am okay with being a mom. In fact, I absolutely love being the mother of Soren, Elliot, and Penelope. I have embraced it completely (mini-van, sneakers and all).

However, something in the last couple months threw me over that threshold from "happens to keep a blog" to "is a blogger." For some odd reason, this title is really uncomfortable for me. I do not want to be "a blogger." Perhaps it was taking that leap into hosting my own blog carnival. BLOG CARNIVAL?! Who even understands these terms in the real world? I do not want to have to wonder if someone in my real community has already read my blog. It puts me in a catch-22. Do I assume they have (which feels so arrogant)? Do I ask (which seems like self-promotion)? Do I assume they have not and risk boring them with redundant information (and will they be offended if parts of the conversation are verbatim from the blog post)? It is strange.

I feel utterly detached from this blog. I feel miles away from the reasons I even started keeping a blog. I feel like maybe I am done "attempting transparency" online. In some ways, any attempt at such a thing online was bound to fail. In some ways, I hope, I achieved it as best I could. However, what keeping this blog really did was to provide community for me at a time I was desperately without it. When I moved back "home" to Eugene, I returned to real community. The kind of community you can barbecue with, share real life with, and never exhaust the conversation. There was a large separation between me and this blog once I moved. It seemed a funny accessory that I just kept wearing out of habit, but not of love.

Now, I am ready for a different adventure. Of course, I do plan to still be learning (ancora imparo). I am approaching thirty years old next month, and I feel like I have more to learn than I ever have in my life. From what I can tell, that is a good thing. From what I have heard, that feeling will only increase. That is strangely encouraging, while it is also a little frustrating. I can still remember being in 6th grade and over-hearing my mother tell someone I was "11 going on 30." That diagnosis stuck with me. "Thirty" held the secrets of being undeniably grown-up, fully-mature. It also put me on a path (created only by myself and my 11-year-old conceptions of what maturity even meant) of trying to continue "being mature." I do not think this is a bad path. It is still the path I want to travel. However, now I am 29 going on 30. Now I am right where I am supposed to be. Soon, I will be 30, and on what will I be going then? No one has dared to prognosticate for me from here. Thirty is wide open to me. Life, moment by moment, is on what I am going. The same as you. The same as I have always been. Yet now I feel it more acutely. I feel its fragility, its beauty, its brevity, its frivolity and meaninglessness, and yet I feel its possibility. I feel possibilities that are not foreseeable 19 years on the horizon. Perhaps now I will be 30 going on 11. Perhaps I have much more to learn about childhood from watching my own children discover theirs.

I am ready to walk into my thirtieth year while still attempting transparency, but attempting it with the people with whom I am in true community. This blog will fall silent. In fact, I will even be making it private (for I cannot bring myself to simply delete it). I do not plan on posting here, so the privacy is not to hide anything. In the event that I change my mind, or life sends me different circumstances where I need blogging as a form of community, I might start up again. If you would like to be on the email list for when/if that happens, shoot me and email or leave me a comment with your email address.

I am not yet ready to close my seldom-posted-on writing blog, nor my food blog, so you might still find me there. I would also like to leave Facebook, but it is so darn convenient to get in touch with people there. I am undecided. I am also undecided about how much I will follow others' blogs, so if you share any major life updates I should know about, please let me know by email!

To my friends and family (many of whom are, sadly, not a part of our physical community here) - I imagine I will start some sort of family blog devoted solely to pictures and antics of the kids and our adventures. If you want to be emailed when I post/start that, let me know.

To everyone else - Thank you for being a very meaningful community to me here for as long as you have. I have treasured every interaction. You have meant a lot to me and helped me through more than you could know.

Carpe Vitam!!

(seize the life)

[Blog scheduled to go private in a few weeks. My hope is to give time for occasional readers not to be taken completely by surprise]

Favorite Things Fridays: Temporary Masterpieces

2010-07-23T00:14:00.000-07:00

I am using the word "masterpiece" liberally. What I mean to say is that I enjoy spending time, energy, and love to do things that will bless if only for a moment (even if that moment lasts a couple hours/days). Case in point: I am typing this post while in-between batches of chocolate cups setting in my freezer. In a few hours, I will peel the foil off those chocolate cups, fill them with field-fresh blueberries, and serve them with joy at the marriage celebration of Erin and Gil (Congrats you two!!)

I enjoy spending an hour or two crafting a lovely meal to display on the table only to be devoured shortly thereafter. The boys and I have spent hours drawing with sidewalk chalk knowing full-well the rain is coming. I write messages on the beach proclaiming my love of kin.

This reminds me of the development of temporary art (here's an interesting artist who happens to be from here in Eugene - see picture at right, sourced from the linked article). However, this is hardly a contemporary development. Disregarding the culinary temporary arts, which have been around as long as people have been eating and sharing food with one another, the buddist monks have been doing temporary art for centuries. I have not researched this topic at all, but I would not be surprised to find out that temporary art has as long a history as mankind (of course, in the scope of history, all art is temporary, no?) Let's face it, the most joy is often found in the process. Action is where living happens. Static art, while I love to view it, is much harder for me to create.

There is balance to my delight in temporary art. Generally speaking, I do not like to spend more time creating something than it will take to destroy/consume it - unless the joy from the destruction/consumption is so great that it makes it worthwhile (complicated domino trails might qualify)

Perhaps I am not making sense but I am up past my bedtime. There is chocolate cooling in my freezer, and melted on my stove, and I have to get back to work! Perhaps some of you readers will be able to help me destroy this creation later today.

Summer Fashion Week: Day 7

2010-07-18T09:59:00.000-07:00

Fashion Week has now come to a close. It has been a lot of fun to see everyone's great ideas and spunky personalities, it has also been weird to take a picture of myself every day and share it with the world! However, being "forced" to share myself and my wardrobe with the world has given me a fresh perspective. It's a little like inviting an acquaintance to dinner. Suddenly those little clutter spots you had been over looking are glaringly obvious.

(this is what happens when your cameraman is four years old and wants to see how low you can go)

A little bit better, but blurry

Shirt: Eddie Bauer, from mom's closet

Tank (seen a little bit in the top picture): Great Outdoors, Fred Meyer

Skirt: Mica, Thrifted

Shoes: No Boundaries, "vintage"

Pearl Bracelet: Gifted for Prom (1998) from my step-father

Elliot (age 3), still in jams, toy motorcycle in hand

Summer Fashion Week: Day 6 Evening Addition

2010-07-17T22:22:00.000-07:00

Shirt: H&M, thrifted

Tank: Great outdoors, Fred Meyer

Jeans: Levi's (with a thrifted belt that you cannot see)

Tan Line: From brunch

Fashion Week is coming to a close tomorrow. Most of us are in denial. However, I thought I'd throw out a bonus post since I wore two outfits today. After this morning's brunch, the evening ended with some friends at a spontaneous BBQ into the sunset hour. It was a day well lived.

Did you do anything fun this evening?

Summer Fashion Week: Day 6

2010-07-17T14:33:00.000-07:00

A simple saturday

Dress: Talbots, thrifted

Hat: Thrifted, as seen before

Shoes: Mudd, the $1 Garage sale find

Necklace: Gifted from an art show.

Today was lovely as I was able to slip away without the kids and enjoy a brunch with some friends. It was beautiful. One of the other mothers present mentioned that she so rarely even has time to flip through magazines with images of such lovely settings and brunches, let alone take part in one. I could not have agreed more. What a treat it was!

Also, here's a sneak preview of some fashion I will be donning come October (for my sister's wedding):

This was taken early this morning, so forgive the sleepy jam girl and the unbrushed hair.

It's good pictures cannot include morning breath.

Dress: Unique Vintage

The week of fashion is nearly over. Take a peek at the other weekend wear.

Favorite Things Fridays: Community

2010-07-16T20:51:00.000-07:00

There are so many reasons I am grateful we live here in Eugene. Most of them are people. We moved down here to be back in the church community that surrounds my alma mater. I am so grateful for my church. I appreciate the freedom in our communirt to live, and love, and learn from one another. I love the grace that comes from everyone acknowledging that we are all broken. I so enjoy bible study with good friends that almost always involves good food and drink. I love women's nights and book groups. I love that a few other alumni and I are leading discussions this summer that are open to the community and revisiting the great questions of western civilization as posed by Plato, Dostovevsky, Kierkegaard, and Ellul. I am so excited for our evolving Family Music Night and knowing that I grapple through parenthood with so many other wise people near by.

Today my great reminder of community was at the informal soccer playdate we've been enjoying each Friday morning for the last three weeks. Having a village in which to raise my children is the best gift of all. Of course, there are people I wish we here in my village, and that I miss dearly, and who are truly still a part of my village, just extended (you know who you are). It is watching my children thrive in my community that really makes my heart swell. There is nothing so wonderful as to see other people love your children well (even when that love looks like instruction). Today was the last soccer playdate, and it was a lovely day to visit with the other momma's. Summer grabbed my little point-and-shoot and caught a few shots from the day that I get to share.

What about you? What is one of your favorite things? Do you have a community? Please join us for Favorite Things Fridays!

Summer Fashion Week: Day 5

2010-07-16T20:04:00.000-07:00

Shirt: J. Crew, gift from mom's closet

Shorts: Old Navy, thrifted

(for "shorts" read: this is me, going out on a limb for fashion week and generally feeling like it failed!) Upon looking at the pictures...I wonder...do these shorts need to go? Or do I need to tuck my shirt in? Help!

Necklace: Gifted from my mom in 1997 when I went on a mission trip to Tiajana, Mexico to build houses and lead VBS. It is a working compass, so that my heart would still know where home was (aww, it means more to me now that I am a momma and can better understand how hard it must have been to send your 17-yr-old out of the country for two weeks)

Shoes: Mudd, $1 garage sale find

In full disclosure, this was me running out the door this morning trying to make sure we had my mom completely packed up and trying to make it to soccer on time:

Shirt: J.Jill, also gifted from mom's closet

Shoes: Keen walking sandals, gifted from a friend's closet

Hat: Thrifted, as seen in Wednesday's post.

Poodle: Not mine.

Kids:

It is only worth noting that Soren decided to wear a tie to soccer and hunted down his power tie.

He takes his work seriously.

Are you still enjoying fashion week? For more fun check out all the other beautiful ladies.

Summer Fashion Week: Day 4

2010-07-15T12:51:00.000-07:00

Penny Today

Summer One Suit: Carter's hand-me-down

Hat: Under The Nile

Ribbon (saved from something, perhaps from Christmas?)

Clip (to hold the ribbon, that is tied to the hat - which keeps the hat with us on adventures): HABA

Exploring the yard (visually) together

Me Today

Wrap: Old Navy, thrifted

(The wrap keeps the tank more modest without losing the coolness factor.

It also makes a great nursing cover)

Tank: "Great Northwest" from Fred Meyer

(I have one in 5 different colors, I love it when staples are on sale)

Skirt: Gap, thrifted

Necklace: Claire's (The 20 for $10 sale from years ago that I mentioned yesterday)

Shoes: Dansko, from a good friend's closet

(lucky me, her long legs made these too wobbly, my legs are just right!)

For more summer fashion inspiration, go check out the other ladies!

Summer Fashion Week: Day 3

2010-07-14T17:33:00.000-07:00

Today was casual.

Soren's Shirt: Children's Place, thrifted

Shorts: OshKosh, thrifted

Hat and Shoes: Momma's (both thrifted!)

My tee: French Laundry

Skirt: Apostrophe, thrifted

(This is hard to see in the pictures, but the skirt is a light cotton/linen with two large pleats in the front. I love the simplicity!)

Shoes: Jeep (J-41), from friend's closet

Hat: Thrifted

Penny's Summery two-piece: Gap, Hand-me-down

Elliot: Was sleeping at time of photo shoot

(Truck in the background: Andrew's new job)

Fashion week always puts me in better touch with my closet and options. I have realized that my new hair cut is going to open a whole new world of hats to me. I also realized I lack in the accessory department. Time to dig back through the jewelry box and to hit up a summer sale at Claire's (most of my clunky summer jewelry came from a 20 for $10 sale 7ish years ago...yes, I think that means it is time to update).

Want more fashion? Go see the rest!

Summer Fashion Week: Day 2

2010-07-13T20:20:00.000-07:00

Skirt: Gap, thrifted

Tank and Cardigan: Eddie Bauer hand-me-down from my mother

Shoes: Well-loved Keens (probably also from my mother...am I seeing a theme?)

Haircut: Thanks, Mom! (theme confirmed)

What are you wearing today? It's not to late to join the party.

Summer Fashion Week: Day 1

2010-07-12T13:14:00.000-07:00

Remember when we did this last fall? There might have been a winter and spring version, but I think I was in the middle of moving (yes, in winter and in spring!). So I'll try to play again this week. Emery is hosting this blog event. My mother is here (yay!), which should mean I have no excuse for not getting dressed each morning. My mother being here might even mean that fashion week will introduce a new hair style. Hint: My sister is having a 20's themed wedding in October.

So today, a nice cool day after a heat wave:

Dress: "Velvet" brand, thrifted

Belt: Grosgrain ribbon I saved off the wrapping of a blanket my sister brought years ago

Jeans: Levi's

Shoes: Steve Madden, thrifted

Purse: 100% Corn husk, thrifted

I love this little dress though. It is perfect for summer, and especially summer here in the Pacific Northwest when you never really know what the weather will bring (cold mornings and hot afternoons?). It's a good thing this dress can be worn so many different ways! It also pairs well with my brown, MaryJane Danskos and my $12 brown gap bow flats (difficult to see below).

What are you wearing today? Want to play along?

Favorite Things Fridays: Routines

2010-07-09T12:55:00.000-07:00

I know it sounds perfectly boring to say that one of my favorite things is routine, but it is true. I wrote a post on the wonder of monotony earlier this year, so I will try not to repeat that here. We have been living with constantly changing routines for a while now and this week was our first week with Andrew's new job. One job, not four different piece meal jobs happening at sporadic times with inconsistent hours, just one simple job with the same start time and same end time, Monday through Friday.

What a gift! I know when he will be home and I can plan my pick-up efforts around that time so that he can walk into an inviting home at the end of his work day. I can plan meals around the same time each day. I know when he will need a lunch (M-F). I know when we are available for social activities. Who knows what such normalcy could bring!? It is refreshing.

What are your favorite things? Please consider joining us in Favorite Things Fridays, and leave your link below!

Favorite Things Fridays

2010-07-02T01:18:00.000-07:00

I hope to add my own post later today, but for now, I hope you'll add your link below.

WinCo: An apology and explanation

2010-07-02T01:00:00.000-07:00

I wrote last week's post on WinCo in a blurry, stream-of-consciousness haste to express the stressful experience I had having returned from shopping there for a week's worth of groceries for my family. I wrote it mostly for myself. I mentioned briefly to an acquaintance that I was working on a piece about my WinCo shopping experience, and that person mentioned that they would be interested to read my thoughts on WinCo. That tempted me to publish. Then, on the eve of my week off from reading, I decided to go ahead and schedule it, thinking I could always come back online and pull it as the day drew closer. Then I didn't think about it again until it was too late.

My biggest regret is that I did not give the post the time it needed to clearly express what I meant to express. Given the response in the comment section, I can see that my actual intentions were buried underneath careless word choices that did offend. I apologize. I hoped that the fact that I was, indeed, shopping for my own family at WinCo would display that I knew that many people choose WinCo for varied reasons, and that many people could still choose wisely within WinCo.

The responses to my post seem to be concerned with two things. First, that I was judging people, specifically about their parenting, by their cart contents. Second, that I am/was arrogant, haughty, and/or smug about having "better" cart contents.

To address the first concern, first. I can now re-read and see how someone might assume I was judging people's cart contents, and possibly even their parenting based on said contents. I am sorry for this. I do not recall anyone's cart contents excepting the woman who very nearly ran me down with a cart full of only soda. I mentioned her cart contents because of the soda weight added terror for my ankles. I hoped that the mention of "conservation of momentum" would give the soda comment context to emphasize the danger of large carts moving quickly with heavy content. I made no judgement about her except that she was in a hurry and presumably buying drinks for a large gathering.

I think the assumption that I connected cart contents with parenting came from my comment about under-developed facial patterns and behavioral issues. Here I really should have removed the paragraph, because behind that little sentence is a huge body of reference that I did not provide, and with which many of my readers may be unfamiliar. There are two things to note in this regard. One, I passed by two children, with different families, in close succession who had such pointy faces with small nostrils so close together that they could not breathe out of their noses and were nearly panting while standing. This was the most profound example I have ever seen in person of the things I have been studying in Dr. Price's book Nutrition and Physical Degeneration. Two, I saw them right after having an unnerving time seeing the name Cargill on the meat packages knowing the icky food practices (especially meat) of Cargill and their competition. The proximity was a glaring reminder for me of all that is wrong with the industrialized food system right now. I reacted strongly to it.

The post was not in any way meant to be a reaction to parents or shoppers. One can buy soda, sketchy chicken, and Mac'n'Cheese anywhere. On any given day, that might be a healthier choice than the other options. I am deeply sorry that I communicated so poorly that I could be read as having made snap judgement about parents, or any shoppers, based on a walk by in the store. I regularly buy things in the store I would not want Sally Fallon-Morrel seeing, not to mention my husband, who brings home all the things I can't even bring myself to purchase for him. I have had - on plenty of occasions - the whining, begging, yea tantrum-throwing kid in the store/park/etc. I was not feeling smug. I was not criticizing parents. What I was feeling, having made the decision to shop for my own family at WinCo due to our own budget restrictions, was victimized by the industrialized food industry. As I looked at the children present, I felt strongly that everyone in that store was also being victimized by that industry and that many might not even know it. The only comfort I could give myself was that WinCo was providing local jobs in a bad economy. For me, that is a bitter comfort.

I did not think a single person there was a bad parent. I think parents are amazing. I find parenting to be the most demanding and difficult job I could have ever imagined, and I fail at it every day. Parents love their kids ferociously. Parents deal with any myriad of personal and collective sufferings and travesties and have to make very complicated decisions about priorities in the midst of those sufferings. I completely respect that other people's priority structures are what make the most sense for them. I support them in making those decisions and I assume that they truly are the best decisions given their circumstances. I was not judging parents. However, I was angry, sad, and judgmental of the people behind the industrialized food giants, the ones who actually DO know what they are doing. The under-tone of moral superiority was directed, not the shoppers at WinCo, not the employees of WinCo, not even at the main shareholders of WinCo, but at the small group of people who have decided that their profits are more important than the long-term health of millions of families.

As I have been thinking over and over this post (I have tried writing this three times since Monday) and trying to find a way to respond better, I have wondered if even my arrogance in the face of the industrial food giants is wrong. However, I have not yet reached the point where I can shake it. I am really, really mad at what is being done to food in this country. I have wondered if, perhaps, I am too informed. I have wondered if, perhaps, I am too informed from the wrong sources. Ignorance or apathy might be better, because if it weren't for the fact that I am divine determinist and have peace that God is allowing all of this for a reason that will be eventually brought to good to those who love Him, if it weren't for that, I would have such profound indigestion over the whole thing that it wouldn't much matter if the foods I was eating were nourishing or not.

The food that permeates those interior shelves is NOT the food that even we grew up eating. The genetically modified foods are a whole new ballgame. The technology was only developing in the 80's and has only become mainstream in the last decade. That means the first generation to be guinea pigs full-time for GMO foods, is my children's. I can get over crammed feeding warehouses. I can get over ammonia-washed hamburger filler. I can get over burger that is molecularly equivalent to corn (here is a Pollan article on the dangers of corn taking over the food supply). What I have a very hard time getting over is a diet that is near 70% genetically modified. I simply have no trust in what those genetic modifications might be doing inside today's children.

I have not shared much of what our family has been going through for the last two-and-a-half years. I have hinted at bits, and my close friends know that life has not been easy. We could scarcely afford to feed our family immediately after deciding to become pregnant with Penelope. The first trimester (and most essential, nutritionally speaking) was terrible, and has had the repercussions (combined with being my third pregnancy, closely spaced) of gestational diabetes, a badly overweight baby, and a slew of allergies for her that now has me eating out of only two food groups.

Last June our situation was even worse as we were finally and completely financially ruined from failed business ventures. From June to November of last year, our family of 4-5 was living on $250 a month for groceries. Gratefully, I anticipated that as a possibility and funneled our tax return into buying half a pastured cow and decently stocking our pantry with rice, beans, and oats. So, $250 a month did not include buying meat, rice, beans, or oats. We ate only rationed meat (twice a week) from our cow, what our CSA provided us (at $25 a week), raw milk and pastured eggs from a local farm, chicken a couple times a month, and typically a take'n'bake pizza a few times a month when Andrew was in charge of dinner (also didn't help with the 11 pound baby).

Come the end of last November, I had decided that half-starving our family was no longer an option and that groceries were going to have to be more important than rent. I very nearly sold my wedding ring to pay rent. I had an offer with a request to come purchase it so fast (the Christmas season) that it scarred me into keeping it. We finally broke down and told our church we needed help. They helped us beyond what we could have imagined. They rescued us. I still tear up when I think about it. They helped us work with our landlord to get out of our lease, they provided a stable place for us to transition into a smaller place of our own (where we are now). In the midst of that, Andrew lost the new job that he had just landed a few months prior, and we have only just now found new full-time work that Andrew will start on Monday. We didn't know about this job while I was shopping at WinCo, nearing the end of my rope.

Our financial counselors from church strongly advised, repeatedly, that we get on food stamps. For a number of reasons, mostly pertaining to my childhood and family background, I resisted. However, we finally decided to do it so as not to burden our community any more than we already had/were. I know the humility of shopping with food benefits.

I share this to say that I am no stranger to having to make tough financial decisions about food. You can still choose health in the midst of poverty, it just takes a lot of know-how and a lot of time. I realize that not everyone has that all of the time. I realize how rich we have been in the midst of poverty. We have a great marriage. I have had a mostly functional kitchen (our transitional space had only a convection oven, 1 burner, and a mini-fridge, but I learned you can still cook whole foods with a convection oven, one burner, and mini-fridge). I have had the know-how from years of studying Nourishing Traditions and the Weston A Price Foundation's materials. And I have been able to remain a stay-at-home mother despite strong suggestions that I get a job as well to help our financial recovery.

I grew up in daycare with a single-mom to three young kids. We ate a lot of frozen TV dinners. My mom really tried to make sure each food group was represented, and there was almost always a salad, be it iceburg with bottled French dressing. I grew up thinking that boiled hotdogs topped with instant mashed potatoes and american cheese was HEAVEN. When we were with our dad every other weekend, it was a fast food paradise. My favorite were Big Macs. We were poor until I was twelve but we had each other and we loved each other well. I had a great childhood. I am even pretty healthy, all things considered. Sure, my face is narrower than traditional people groups - just like almost every other westernized person living right now. I have crooked teeth. I have had two c-sections. I now wear glasses. My first and third children have narrower, more underdeveloped faces than my middle (with whom I was able to give a more nourishing pregnancy).

I am not perfect, not in food and health, and obviously not in communication and love of my neighbor. I did not mean to sound smug. I was venting, and if I had thought better, I would have never hit publish. I know there are far worse things that could happen in life than eating gross beef. I know that it is "just food". However, it is an important part of my life. Three solid meals around a shared table is what has kept me sane these past two-and-a-half years. It is what has made me feel like I had something tangible to offer my children and my husband. It has grounded me when I was tempted to find escape. Nourishing food has kept us energized and hopeful in the midst of some difficult things (beyond financial). It has kept us healthy at a time when sickness would have been the proverbial last straw.

This is the fuller picture of what was behind my post last week. If you are still reading, I am humbled, and I thank you. If you find me in need of further correction/exhortation, please let me know, gently.

Interview's Revisited

2010-07-01T05:00:00.000-07:00

I found this in the draft box and thought it was worth revisiting. Remember Soren's original interview? Well, later that day they wanted to do it again with Elliot. Below is the second go round, from back in January. It would be interesting to do it again, now 6 months later, and see what answers have changed. But for good measure (and mainly because Elliot cracks me up) here is the outdated post:

What do you want to be when you grow up?
Soren - A conductor, who has a farm, and I'll get married.
Elliot - A goat! A noodle!!

Who is your favorite grown-up?
Soren - Daddy
Elliot - Mommy

Who is your favorite baby?
Soren - Penny
Elliot - Octopus

Do you want any more brothers or sisters?
Soren -Yes
Elliot - Yes

What would you name your brothers and sisters?
Soren -Pinocchios
Elliot - Computers (I think he was mesmerized by the fact I was typing all of their answers into the computer)

How old do you think Daddy is?
Soren - I think he's 41.
Elliot - (blank stare, since Soren just blurted the answer)

How old do you think Mommy is?
Soren -28 (I think he missed my last birthday)
Elliot - (same blank stare)

What is your favorite thing to do?
Soren - Go to the park!
Elliot - Hit you

Elliot, really?
Elliot - No.

Soren, What do you think Elliot will be when he grows up?
Soren - A burgler (this comes from a Berenstain bears video they watched)

Elliot, What do you think Soren will be when he grows up?
Elliot - Nothing

What do you think Penelope will be when she grows up?
Soren - She'll go to the park with me, she'll get married, and she'll do whatever her kids want her to do. They'll show her what they made and then they'll put it away when they're done. Then they'll pull out a huge block set and build a castle!
Elliot - Type on the computer.

What does love feel like?
Soren - You hugging me and kissing me and loving me and playing games with me.
Elliot - Typing

When you grow up, where will you live?
Soren - In hillsboro.
Elliot - (nothing, bordering on complete loss of interest)

What is your favorite word?
Soren - (had moved onto finding blocks to build a castle)
Elliot -Stupid!

My week without reading

2010-06-30T05:00:00.000-07:00

Reading deprivation was interesting. I did not expect for it to be as difficult to maintain as it was. It reminded me of the times I have fasted. You get hungry and your hunger serves as an opportunity to remind you of something (whatever the goal of the fasting). So this was a reading fast. It was surprising to note how many times during my day I have a little lull which I meet with reading. It was fun to see what I did with those little moments. I tried to keep a list.

Instead of reading, I...
made a cake (augmented from this recipe),
cut Søren's hair,
concocted a dairy-free blueberry coconut ice cream,
did all my weekly tasks for The Artist's Way,
finished all the neglected previous weekly tasks for The Artist's Way,
invented stories to tell the kids,
enjoyed hearing my husband read to our kids,
watched a couple movies with my husband,
created a soaked granola recipe,
hung photos on the walls,
called friends on the telephone,
wrote letters,
started writing this list,
looked at a new sewing pattern,
explored the neighborhood (a community garden right around the corner!),
planned some structure for my blogs,
went to goodwill and bought children's books (dangerous, no?),
went outside and watched the kids play in the backyard and run in the sprinkler,
went for a bike ride,
went on a long explore downtown with the kids,
washed dishes,
wrote more letters,
talked to more friends on the telephone (voices are so much better than emails!),
made a birthday gift for a friend's daughter,
actually did my morning pages (for The Artist's Way),
sat on my couch and looked around the house,
went to the library and received free kids books for the summer reading program,
organized the office/music room a bit more,
and I probably did other things I forgot to write down.

What was interesting, and mildly comforting, was that it was still difficult to stay on top of the dishes and laundry. I had been worried that I was really just addicted to the internet and that was why I am such a terrible housekeeper. What a week unplugged confirmed for me is that there is a LOT of housekeeping. I am not bad at it, I am simply one person fighting against a mess created by five people (two of whom are talented mess makers). Sometimes (most times?) it is more important to spend time in relationship with those other four people rather that just cleaning up after them. It also reminded me that it is time to jump back on the Fly Lady's bandwagon. I need the added structure.

I cheated with my deprivation a little. Having my husband check my email to publish blog comments felt a little like cheating, for what is the point of having someone else read for you if you are on reading deprivation? Once he went out-of-town (Friday), I took over checking my email once a day (and sometimes twice a day). I also decided that life with out Daddy was difficult enough, and took to reading the boys a bedtime story (which they were itching for after the addition of some new-used books and a trip to the library). What I did not do, was fill the lulls in my day with a reading break (articles shared on facebook, blogs, books I am reading/studying, newsletters we receive, etc). Instead, I paused and then found something else to do. It was refreshing. I did not create any masterpieces, but my days were filled with a lot more living and a lot more little bursts of creative activity.

The time off was so enjoyable that I have not been much inclined to come back to reading online. I simply clicked "mark as read" for a large number of the blogs I follow. It felt freeing. In fact, I think I'll be weeding my google reader list down again (I do this seasonally anyway). I am even thinking of having internet "office hours." A check in the morning and a check in the evening with the goal of writing all my blog posts for the week in one chunk of time during the weekend or one weekday evening. I want to live more and enjoy this time with my kids being delightfully young. We shall see if I can keep these ideals.

In the mean time, I have to re-read The Apology, pick out an interesting segment of something from Ellul, re-read some more Plato and Mr. Kierkegaard, pick back up Anna Karenina (my favorite novel of all time is scheduled for the end of summer book group discussion), find a used copy of Nurture Shock, and read those newsletters I skipped. And if I know you in real life, or even through someone I know in real life, you can be sure I'll still be reading your blog.

What would be the hardest thing for you not to read each week?

Favorite Things Fridays: Reading other people's favorite things

2010-06-25T06:00:00.000-07:00

I have really enjoyed reading about other people's favorite things. It is such a good reminder that the life we live as humans is rich with wonder and beauty and fun. I have learned new things about old friends. I have learned that complete strangers are kindred spirits. Sharing favorite things is a fun way to learn about people and oneself. I have even uncovered things I did not expect about myself simply from trying to think about what my favorite things are, or from reading someone else's list and seeing myself reflected in their favorites.

Now it is your turn! You may have already noticed, but I have turned Favorite Things Fridays into a blog carnival and would love to hear from you, my fellow bloggers, on Fridays, when you have time, about your favorite things. It can be a favorite from the week, or simply from life in general. If you post about it, please link in with Mr. Linky (see below) and leave me a comment to tell me you did! If you do not have a blog, feel free to share one of your favorites in the comment section each week.

Elliot is Three!

2010-06-24T20:42:00.000-07:00

I can barely bring myself to accept this, but Elliot did turn three last week. THREE. I could not do justice to trying to sum up all that he has become and all that I have enjoyed watching him come into himself in these past three years. Suffice it to say I am rather crazy about this boy and tremendously excited to be his mother and get to see more and more of his story unfold.

Here is a taste of what we look like at 6:15 am (more transparency than you hoped?). I have continued a tradition began by my mother of leaving birthday presents at the end of ones bed to find in the morning. Elliot was so excited. It was his own personal Christmas, and he woke up bright and early to begin festivities. His favorite gift from the morning: The Lorax by Dr. Seuss. I have read it to him enough times by now to nearly have it memorized (which would be handy this week, no?).

Then we had a rather spontaneous birthday party with a few of his friends, and I think he felt rather awed by all the special attention. My dear Summer has posted some lovely photos from the day here. What a gift to have a friend who enjoys capturing my kids on camera.

Out of the Box

2010-06-23T06:00:00.000-07:00

A Winco Experience

(This post is not meant to offend any who regularly shop there. The prices were so good that I am quite tempted to go back for several things. With all the favorite things, I felt the need to vent a little cynicism, for giving occasional reign to my cynical side is also one of my favorite things.)

The building sits next to the freeway, easily seen and easily accessed, so long as you are willing to be herded like cattle. There are two lanes that turn into the street that accesses the enormous parking lot. Two lanes, and still I sit waiting to turn left for five minutes. I feel out of place. The large truck in front of me is covered in various racing bumper stickers. One reads, "This marriage will now be interrupted to bring you RACING SEASON". Now, I mean no disrespect to any of my readers who enjoy racing, but please do not advertise on your vehicle that it is a bigger priority than your marriage. The driver, who later tries to race ahead to get a premiere parking space, but ends up right next to me, looks the part of an old racer - cigarette between his fingers, one of which does still boast a wedding band. His wife must enjoy racing season, too. On this side of town I notice there are just as many bumper stickers as there are downtown. Downtown, the stickers are loudly liberal. Here they are loudly...well...redneck. Score another one for "diversity" in Eugene.

While I await my left turn, I turn off the radio so I can enjoy some degree of quiet. (Though if you are in search of silence, you might want to read my friend Abby's recent post on the topic). The quiet allows my mind to wander while I idle. I think about the stress of the Winco shopping experience I am about to undertake. I am long past stressing about the quality of the beef I have resigned myself to purchase. I know it will come from an animal that never walked more than a few hundred yards; and that, likely the path to the slaughterhouse. I stop thinking about the cows themselves, and instead, begin thinking about the whole mass animal feeding concept. I cannot help but see parallels between Winco and a human feeding operation. If the masses who poured through there were actually eating while they filed in and out, it might just qualify (and there is that pizza by the slice place after the checkout line). I reflect on the store's layout and the way the staff restock by racing to get the food to the easiest point of access for the masses, as quickly as possible. They weave in and out, depositing items on shelves, not making eye contact, and weave back to safety behind swinging doors before any animal (read: human with over-sized cart) tramples them. Of course, there is too much activity, and the promise of leaving, but there is still a general feeling of being herded.

I make an awful customer at Winco. I stop; not just slow down. I carefully examine produce to look for the choicest heads of lettuce and test several onions and avocados for firmness. Knowing well the principle of conservation of momentum, Winco terrifies me. I wish I had tail lights, or something to give ample warning to the hurried consumers with soda-laden carts behind me. I read the labels, trying to determine farm sources for the meat, and trying hard not to visibly shudder when I read "Cargill" and then walk quickly away. I read all ingredients on the cans and boxes looking for packages that only contain FOOD. Reading one jelly jar that boasts "100% USA Fruit", I am dismayed that the first two ingredients are high fructose corn syrup and corn syrup. An old man, who cannot make up his mind if he wants strawberry or grape, finds my reading obsession curious.

"How can they claim 100% fruit when the first two ingredients are corn syrup?!" I try to enlighten him to my dilemma.

"Oh that's just for sweetening!" He reassures me.

"Ah," I hadn't realized. So the small quantity of fruit that is present is all grown in the US. Isn't that nice. Not quite what I was hoping. The best I can find is one brand that uses a concentrate of four fruit juices to sweeten their jam. I find fruit to be quite sweet on its own, but I suppose I am in a minority. Undoubtedly so in Winco. I keep shopping. Yes, here, I am a minority

The children in the carts around me have the characteristic, under-developed facial deformities of malnutrition as studied by Dr. Weston A Price. They also display the behavioral problems that accompany that malnutrition. I try to continue breathing deeply as I reflect that I will be feeding my own children from this box store tonight. However, I also notice many quizzical glances at my cart from other passersby. They cannot wrap their minds around what I might be up to with all that whole food. In fact, I am rather sure that some of them do not even recognize several of my produce selections. Yes, even Winco sells whole foods. They might be tampered with (might is a generous word, but there were a couple organic produce options), but not as tampered with as if you pull "shelf stable" products off all the interior isles and miss the outer section with things a step (or 10) closer to the original source (even if it is trucked in from across the country). It comes down to what you choose to put in your cart.

My stomach churns with the knowledge of all that is wrong with the system (primarily the meat system) I am about to validate with a monetary exchange. I remind myself that life is not perfect and that this vote with my dollar will not invalidate all my previous votes against. I whisper a prayer that a time is coming when Cargill and their competition will be out of business. Then, I bag my groceries and get out of the box.

Reading Hiatus

2010-06-21T06:00:00.000-07:00

I will be taking a week of reading deprivation this week starting today. Yep, you read that correctly: No reading. It seems strange to me, and, in fact, I am not sure what might happen to me without my daily dosage of words. However, it should be fun and allow for some extra energy to be directed into creative endeavors with my kids and myself. It might also allow for that final achievement of "totally moved in."

It is exciting and a little nerve-wracking to so completely unplug. I have done it a time or two unintentionally (from the internet), but never have I purposefully not read anything. In fact, I do not even know that I have ever gone a day without it in some form. My biggest challenge, I think, will be not reading to my kids. That may sound cruel, as if I am depriving them of something. Do not worry, I have big plans to keep story-telling alive and well, they just have to be from my own head and not from a lovely book. Those are the boys' favorite kinds anyway.

I have a post or two scheduled for this week, but I will not be moderating comments. My husband is not on reading deprivation, so I might coax him to sign in and publish comments on my behalf so you all can talk amongst yourselves. Please do not hesitate to leave your thoughts. I will look forward to responding early next week.

Have you ever undergone reading deprivation? Do you regularly unplug from the internet? I'd love to hear about it.

Favorite Things Fridays: Strawberries in June

2010-06-18T11:21:00.000-07:00

Favorite Things Fridays is now a blog carnival, please visit the link for more information.

Seasonal fruit is always a favorite. This month it is strawberries, but next month I'll be convinced what I really love is blueberries. Come early september, I will be singing the praises of wild blackberries. However, there is a special place in my heart for strawberries. They are red, and lovely to behold. Their smell holds so much promise AND they deliver (unlike coffee, though I know them's fighting words). Also, they come as the first wonderful fruit after a long winter and spring. Ah strawberry, how I love you.

I recently catered the graduation reception for my Alma mater and made a couple trays of chocolate covered strawberries for the dessert table. The smell of all those berries (about 250) was intoxicating. Perhaps next time I will simply make a heaping mountain of chocolate covered berries and forget about everything else.

(chocolate cooling)

Chocolate Covered Strawberries

Ingredients:

Quantities of fresh strawberries, washed and dried

Quantities of semi-sweet or dark chocolate, chips or bars broken into peices

Directions:

Place glass bowl on top of a sauce pan with simmering water.

Add chocolate and allow to melt, stirring together until you reach a smooth consistency

Dip in one strawberry at a time, holding onto the green top.

Let chocolate drip off, and then tilt strawberry to get the last drips on it's side and place on a buttered sheet of parchment paper (if you are doing a dairy-free chocolate, use coconut oil, perhaps I'll have to do a post on making your own chocolate on my food blog sometime soon)

Let cool.

Store in the refrigerator if they will not be eaten within a few hours

Enjoy!

Your turn! Please share one your favorite things. If you blog, please leave a link below for our Favorite Things Friday carnival.

Settling

2010-06-16T15:34:00.000-07:00

My house is coming together with thanks to a lovingly handed-down couch arriving and a weekend spent with my mother. She reminds me, through action, that some things are worth the expense. I cannot always deny myself. I cannot always make it myself. I cannot always keep sane with projects in limbo. Sometimes I need to hear this spoken so plainly. I am breathing more deeply now.

One of my mother's talents is walking into stores that are running a sale on the items she wants. I am not sure how she does this. It is magic as far as I can tell. My house is now supplied with the items we needed to rid ourselves of cardboard boxes as well as cover our windows at night. There are three remaining boxes to unpack, two more to sort through, and two brimming with burnables. Nearly everything has a proper home. This act is coming together.

It is good to have a mother. If everything is her fault, then a lot of good things are her fault. In my case, many more good things are her fault than bad things. I hope I can understand all those things well enough to pass them onto my own children.

Favorite Things Friday: Grandparents Who Travel

2010-06-11T08:00:00.000-07:00

**Just realized this never posted. I suppose I still have a little work to do in the scheduling department**

Last weekend we were blessed with my husband's mother and step-father coming down for Søren's recital (which went swimmingly, aside from him declaring loudly, while on stage, that he was the most fancy kid present). This weekend (in a few short hours actually!) we get my mother and step-father coming to celebrate dear Elliot's 3rd birthday (Three?! How did this happen?). It will be a "trombone" birthday, as he has requested (don't ask me, I am still trying to figure it out).

This time in life (the time where our days are consumed with caring for small children) is rather stationary but it makes it far easier when the important people still show up for hugs in person from time to time.

(kids seen here with Andrew's parents after the recital)

Favorite Things: Day 31

2010-06-10T21:13:00.000-07:00

Finishing a project

Why then, you might ask, have I waited until June 10th to write my last favorite thing? It is a good question. I suppose I was intimidated by a need for it to be extra favorite. As if I might have needed to mention that I like Jesus or something. Don't get me wrong, I do, but listing faith/God/sweetbabyjesus among things like antique sewing machines and baby push-ups seems like it would deeply miss the point.

So I am sticking with "finishing a project". I love finishing a hem, or hooking the last bits of yarn into a finished scarf. I like the domino effect of the last several boxes of Sodoku and the satisfaction of the last puzzle piece. I will be very happy when the last cardboard box leaves my living room! (soon)

I can also decided on "finishing a project" because it not only recognizes the end to the Favorite Things collaboration, but it also allows me to mention that we have not completely finished the project. Cydney has proposed "Favorite Things Fridays" and I think it is a lovely idea. Besides, I have too many favorite things that never made this list.

Stay tuned.

Favorite Things: Day 30

2010-05-30T13:43:00.000-07:00

Antique Sewing Machines

I cannot help thinking, "They don't make 'em like they used to," whenever I see an antique sewing machine. My own is a much newer Sears model and not nearly so lovely as this one pictured. Mine still works wonderfully and, 10 years later, I am still discovering things it can do. This says more about my own inexperience, and the rare usage of the machine for a number of years, than it does about the machine. Still, it amazes me, I find it well made, and I would not part with it easily.

I realize this is the third "antique machine" post I have written in this series. I do not really consider myself a machine-lover, however I have gained a profound respect of how they have changed lives since my recent stints without the modern machines we have come to know and love. I also appreciate the old ones that still work after 100 years as opposed to the ones with new-fangled plastic parts that are designed to be replaced, designed to be disposed of 2-10 years later. That is a design flaw. I prefer craftsmanship and parts that do not easily wear.

What about you? What is your favorite machine?

(photo credit: burnettesandStruth on flickr)

Pleasing Things: Day 29

2010-05-29T13:28:00.000-07:00

A Sharp-Dressed Man

Perhaps I should also say that this sharp-dressed little man will be having a recital Sunday, June 6th, at 3:30, and you are welcome to email me for details if you'd like to come.

(Perhaps I should also say that I find my not-so-sharp-dressed husband pleasing too, especially when I see him at work, tool belt on the hips, beard growing rough, and dirty from hard-sought productivity.)

Favorite Things: Day 28

2010-05-28T20:15:00.000-07:00

Architect's Tables

It was only recently that I remembered my love of architectural tables. I love that they slant and are adjustable. I love that they are spacious. I love that they are wood and metal.

My husband had a surprise run-in with my grandfather a couple months ago when he was up in Seattle doing some remodel work for some good friends of ours. When he came home, he asked me, "did your grandfather used to work as an architect?"

Then pictures from unknown archives in my brain came flashing back, "Yes!" I declared, "I had completely forgotten!" I sat amused, happily remembering all the times I would climb up on his stool and look over his drawing table, with all the stencils, tools, and carpenter's pencils. I remembered being allowed to draw at his table (and I remembered times when I could not draw at his table because there were huge, indulgent pages of sketches covering all the work space). This photo from flickr (at right) is about as close as I can come to finding something that looks like what I remember. Is it not mezmerizing? All that metal and wood with moving parts? I should probably email my grandfather and ask if he still has his table or perhaps a photo of it. A photo would probably jog my memory even better.

It was during my conversation with my husband that I realized my fondness for my grandfather's table and all its lovely implements is probably what sparked my first "career" aspirations as a jr. higher to become an architect myself (and then discovering Cydney's blog and research further confirmed my suspicions). When I made it to the "big" world of high school, I was very excited about all the electives my school had to offer (oh, if only there were more class hours to fill up with electives! - Yes, I was a nerd!). I was particularly excited about the intro to architectural drawing. That is, I was excited until I discovered it was a C.A.D. class, and that all the drawing would happen on computers. Computers?! Ick. (I still have a strong distaste for monitors, though you might not know it from my blogging habits.)

I changed my career aspirations and my electives. That first semester of high school I did take a very fun and very hands-on interior design class. Sadly, that was probably as close to an "art" class as I ever took again, somehow convinced that the art stuff would come easily later, but that the free science classes probably would not. I still kick myself for curbing my strong desire to take that darkroom class in 9th grade, or the pottery one in 10th, or....(okay, not really, I mean, I got to skin a cat in Anatomy and Physiology and we made peanut brittle in Chem and learned about the myth of shampoo-and-conditioner-in-one products, plus, physics club was for the cool kids....right?).

Now that I am long past trading a physics degree in for a degree in Liberal Arts, and most of my days are spent coming up with craft projects for kiddos and wondering if I could make all my own clothes, I kinda wonder if an extra art class or two might have been more practical!

Things That Make The Heart Beat Faster: Day 27

2010-05-27T20:06:00.000-07:00

Hearing my husband's key in the lock

(photo credit: justmakeit from flickr)

Favorite Things: Day 26

2010-05-26T19:48:00.000-07:00

Antique Typewriters

photo by Erin Julian

I find they stir the inner writer in me. Perhaps they are not practical for most modern writing projects (ahem, like blogging), but I love them. An old housemate of mine had one that I used from time to time for assignments, most especially for art project assignments.

Make sure you visit Erin's blog for more pictures of this lovely machine.

Favorite Things: Day 25

2010-05-25T21:29:00.000-07:00

Imagination

I remember one of my first attempts at anything resembling a "blog post." It was on myspace, back when I had a myspace (2005?). I wrote something about then-baby Søren helping me notice details (like cracks on the ceiling) that were full of magic. Each baby has opened my eyes more and more to how magical the world is. Simple things like opening a cupboard amaze little eyes. Something seemingly immovable moves! It opens! It reveals a whole new world beyond that which they thought was right in front of them. Light switches are really something for a wee one, as are curtains, blinds, telephones, and all manner of technological achievements.

Then they age, but that unceasing wonder does not leave them. They can find mysteries in the most mundane places. They can craft adventures and houses out of a crumpled blanket on the floor (in fact, Søren and Elliot were doing this today, and Søren was giving me a little tour of his blanket house for his race cars. "this is the kitchen, and it has a big pantry - you would love this house mom, it has a huge pantry - ....").

One of the most significant gifts I can give my children is entering into imaginative play along with them. Often I find my "adult" nature resists granting them this gift. "I have more important things to do," I think. However, I have found playing with them has been a great gift to me as it has recovered my own ability to play. I do not mean "play" in a light and insignificant way, I mean play in the full sense of the word, and the full benefit of activity. Children are brilliant because they know how to play. Studies have shown that kids intelligence diminishes as their ability to play dwindles (I'll try to find the link to the article I read about this soon).

Being a mother is life-altering in so many regards, but regaining the wonder of play has been one of the most beneficial changes in my life. I am a better problem solver. I am more creative. I am more affectionate. In fact, even when I am stressed and crabby, my imagination helps me. It allows me to place myself in those imagined moments of "wouldn't my life be better if...." Sometimes its a good imaginative escape, akin to watching a good movie, where I can dream about fulfilling goals and aspirations and thus re-evaluate if I am pursuing life in the manner I wish. Sometimes it is a great exercise in helping me realize I love my life, when I have momentarily forgotten. In those moments - few and far between that they may be - when I wish that I had someone else's life, I can put myself there fully, in my imagination, and easily see how, in that life, I would tire of my own circumstances too. In that life, I would probably wish I had someone else's life. In fact, I would probably wish for a life that was a lot like the very life that is actually my own. Thus my imagination brings me back to contentment and away from despair.

Favorite Things: Day 24

2010-05-24T15:38:00.000-07:00

Our new washer and dryer and the amazing friends who gifted us with these delightful machines.

As I have already mentioned, I have seriously wonderful friends.

Pleasing Things: Day 23

2010-05-23T10:56:00.000-07:00

Old couples

This is especially pleasing if they are seen walking slowly, hand in hand, through a park in spring. You know they are seeing the world through eyes that remember spring from their own youth. You know they are recollecting watching their children and grandchildren play. You know they have loved well and endured joyful and painful things.

They grip each others hands, enough to keep balanced, enough not to lose each other, but gently enough not to crush fragile fingers. They have learned each other so well, and yet, if you catch them meet each others eyes, you also know they still find delightful mystery in the other.

I hope my own husband and I might be blessed with a long enough life to meet 50 years of marriage (my husband was nearly 35 when we married).

(photo credit: my sister Jen)

Favorite Things: Day 22

2010-05-22T20:59:00.000-07:00

An Excuse to Get Dressed Up

We had the privilege of a little date. My sister watched the kids so that we could sneak away to watch a philosophy play at my alma mater. It was lovely to walk slowly, not worried about watching the distance between children and passing cars. We could hold hands, not poised mentally and physically ready to steady, hold, or hold back little ones at any given moment.

Most of the time, my wardrobe is purely practical (despite my enjoyment of fashionable attire). However, I do not like to miss a good reason to get a little dressed. Now, I realize that my version of "dressed up" is probably some people's version of "daily," but for me, it is still fun. I only wish we thought to have my sister take a picture of us dressed and ready for a date!

With my husband doing Opera now, I am anticipating opportunities to pull out some true "dress up" clothes out of the back of my closet in the near future!

(photo credit: print of Giovanni Boldini's)

Favorite Things: Day 21

2010-05-21T21:33:00.000-07:00

Live Music

I don't much care if it's a guitar on the corner, a jazz band, a symphony, a soloist, or one of my favorite musicians/groups, I just plain like listening to live music. I like the way the air vibrates and you can "hear" the music with your whole body. I love singing with the kids. I love "family music night," when we get together with a few other families and just sing and strum the guitar together. I love singing in church (yes, even old hymns). I even like it when semi-crazy people sit outside the entrances to downtown locations and make music on whatever they can. Music is a lovely human expression.

(Photo from my sister Jen - permission?)

Favorite Things: Day 20

2010-05-20T14:53:00.000-07:00

Reading to children

I really enjoy reading to my children (and others' children for that matter). I remember when I only had Soren. He and I could sit and read together for hours each day. Now, sometimes we still read for hours each day, there are just more interruptions and somedays, we barely log an hour at all.

When the boys were a little smaller, they would bring me a book and ask me to "sing it" to them. They want the story woven out with voices, pauses, facial expressions and a few choice gestures.

We have too many favorite books to capture here. A.A. Milne, Beatrix Potter, Ezra Jack Keats, Arnold Lobel, Aesop, Mother Goose, Margaret Wise Brown, Robert McCloskey, Maurice Sendak, Holly Hobby, Jan Brett, Peter Spier, William Steig, and Olivier Dunrea probably comprise our very favorite authors (though I am sure I am forgetting several) and we are always discovering new classics.

Recent discoveries include "The Philharmonic Gets Dressed" and "Ming Lo Moves The Mountain" and the "Brambly Hedge" stories by Jill Barklem.

In searching for images for this post, I discovered this blog (I originally landed in the 2008 archives). Now I have a whole new selection of books to hunt down at the library this week. Yay for good children's literature!

Favorite Things: Day 19

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My growing collection of the Howard Hong translation of Søren Kierkegaard's complete works.

It probably goes without saying that I am a big fan of Mr. Kierkegaard's works, seeing as I named my first child "Søren, " umlaut and everything. However, I might as well add it to the list of my favorite things. Among other favorites related to Kierkegaard and my own Søren, is the above picture, first shared in this post.

Someday I will have the full collection. Someday I will read the full collection. On that day, I will probably stop writing and just tell everyone to read his words instead of my own. Or perhaps, inspired by all the double-reflecting on all the tragic and comic existential dilemmas he reveals, I'll decide to author indirect words to my own culture and leave it to God to decide if any of my own musings become world-historical.

Favorite Things: Day 18

2010-05-18T20:24:00.000-07:00

My babies

When Penny was still brand new, I remember slipping away to nurse her, taking a pause from some show (probably Lost or 30Rock, since we don't watch much else). The monitor was left on, and when I returned, my husband remarked, "you sure love our babies." I thought it was a strangely-timed remark, but then I realized that he must have heard me kissing her head the entire time I was in the room with her. I simply could not resist. I have been that way with all my babies. I am still a cuddly mama, but never so much as when they are truly infants. There is something so very charming and innocent about that stage (so long as they sleep).

Soren at 17 months (I can't find an earlier one at the moment)

Elliot at 4 months

Penelope at 2 months

Favorite Things: Day 17

2010-05-17T20:10:00.000-07:00

House Plants

I am not entirely sure when this started. My mom always kept house plants in the various apartments where we lived. When she remarried, we moved into a house with only fake plants but what they lacked in reality they made up for in quantity. I thought this was entirely strange, even at all of 12 years old. My mom did put some orchids and African violets by the kitchen sink and some cacti in the laundry room. I kept an ivy vine in my bedroom once I was old enough to care for a plant.

There was one plant in particular I remember from childhood that I have always hoped I will someday find for my own house. I just looked it up and it is a Monstera Deliciosa (also know as a split leaf philodendron - see picture from the wiki article on the left), what a crazy plant!

My husband is a plant lover, and I think between the two of us we have over 20 house plants (though a few are being "plant-sat" at our family's until we can visit next and bring them to the new house). My favorite is to have them dangling in the corner somewhere (like the picture on the right which was a view from one of my previous bedrooms).

They clean the air, they are pleasing to look at, sometimes they even flower, give scent, give fruit, and can be used for home remedies. Someday I will indulge my witchy nature and I will have all manner of natural healing remedies and health promoting herbs growing in and around my home.

Favorite Things: Day 16

2010-05-16T14:18:00.000-07:00

Cream (my apologies to those of you who are dairy-free)

Any form of real cream is just fine for me. I love butter - passionately. I can eat whipped cream plain (but preferably with some berries). I need clotted cream with scones. I love creme fraiche with just about anything. I take cream in my tea. I take butter and cream in my porridge. I love making ice cream. I even created this recipe so that I could make it look like I was not just eating whipped cream for dessert.

I eat so much cream that I am a walking testimony that eating real fat doesn't make you fat (hint: it's the sugar and the white flour). For the record, my family eats 2-3 pounds of butter each week, at least a quart of cream in various forms, and 3 1/2 gallons of whole (read: raw) farm milk (think 6.5% cream) each week, and I am responsible for the majority of that consumption.

Mmmmmm, cream.

(photo credit: Cheri Neufeld via Flickr)

Favorite Things: Day 15

2010-05-15T17:15:00.000-07:00

A full-size kitchen again!

Now I can resume my "experiments."

(pictured: marmalade, beet kvass, creme fraiche, salsa)

Favorite Things: Day 14

2010-05-14T17:06:00.000-07:00

The many ways my little men show me they love me

Things That Make The Heart Beat Faster: Day 13

2010-05-13T14:43:00.000-07:00

Seeing someone do what they were created to do

(Yes, that is my husband doing a stupid human trick on the right. Photo thanks to my sister, Jen)

When I first met my husband and learned of his background in music, I knew that it was something missing in his life. I thought, wistfully, that by getting married I might serve as a muse to inspire him to pursue music again. I didn’t. Then we decided to have a baby. I thought surely a child would inspire him. He didn’t. Nor did another baby but I had no false hopes. What about a daughter? I wondered. There is certainly something different and wonderful about the daughter and him but he did not set to work writing lullabies. There was, I think, a little more singing in the shower.

Enter Suzuki. Seeing Soren work hard at learning music and have fun while doing it, tickled Andrew’s inner musician. He pretended to look into music opportunities in town. Even going so far as to stop by the Eugene Opera’s office and ask what the steps were to audition. They pointed him to the choral director for the Opera (who is also the director of the opera as a whole). Andrew finally emailed him, after much nudging. The choral director emailed back with a green light and Andrew froze. He told himself he was too old, too out of practice, not really that good, etc.

Enter The Artist’s Way. Julia Cameron was writing the book just for him at times (and I think he realized it). Further, it made him realize that he did not want to communicate to our children that art is something you hide, or something impractical. Finally, with more pressure from me and, more convincingly, from a local playwright that he respects, he finally sends the follow-up email (two months later) to nudge the door back open and see if it moves. It moves! He is invited over to sing the next night! He sings around the house. He sings at work. Then, he sings for the director of the Eugene Opera. Now, he has a new voice instructor (for the first time in 20 years, though a sweet new friend of ours did give him a great warm up lesson the night before). He has homework and is preparing to formally audition for the next Opera (performance scheduled for the Christmas season).

He came home emotional, naturally, as anyone might after sitting on their gift for 20 years and finally acknowledging it again. I am proud. Even better, his new teacher wants a home addition and is happy to talk about work trade. The door really could not be any easier to walk through now could it?

What were you made to do? Are you doing it? (I ask this of myself as well)

Favorite Things: Day 12

2010-05-12T17:04:00.000-07:00

Baby Push-ups

Favorite Things: Day 11

2010-05-11T14:43:00.000-07:00

Friends

(I'm stealing the recent picture from Summer's as I don't have anything else at the moment!)

I hesitate to gush about how much I love my friends but I have the best friends in the world. There are few things as wonderful as a good friend. Most of my friends have seen me through years (and a choice few since the early nineties). Most of my friends have been irritated with me (sorry!), and I with them (you know, just that one time). We have come through it knowing each other better, being challenged to be better, and being all the closer for it. I am fortunate enough to have several friends who are abundantly good to me. More than I deserve. I only hope I can be as good in return as our friendships age along with us.

My only not-so-favorite thing is that my friends are not all tidily kept in one convenient (for me) place so that I can enjoy them all in person whenever I want. For now, I am quite blessed to have quite the cluster here in Eugene (with others who at least pilgrimage here from time to time), and I try not to let the pessimist in me tell myself that it cannot last. Who cares if it won’t last (remember the Tulips!) It is here now and it is good.