When we bought our new house, the previous owners told us wildflowers grew on the steep slope to the left of the house. I thought that was a nice word for weeds.
Turns out they are wildflowers after all... and they are beautiful.
Friday, July 30, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Who is the Hero of Your Life Story?
A group of kids and our Pastor just returned home from a trip to New Orleans and the National Youth Gathering held there. Some insane amount of teenagers- like 25,000 or more- all gather and mingle and study and praise and worship together. It sounds like an amazing, albeit intense experience, and last Sunday's church service was filled with stories and lessons learned from the trip.
During the sermon, our Pastor asked a great question that I have been thinking about all week: who is the hero of your life story?
First of all, for the last few years it is hard for me to even conceptualize my life as a story, or narrative, at all. The days are a blur of growing children, housework, pregnancies, meals, activities, and friends. The days so melt into one another that it is difficult to step back and say the year or years have a beginning, middle and end. That decisions have consequences that we can see. That we are moving forward or backwards. Because so much energy is used to push through the day and get it all done, and hopefully by bedtime everyone in your house is fed, relatively clean and moderately happy.
I know: I reach for the stars.
But as I sat there in church on Sunday, I thought about it. Who is the hero of my life story?
Is it my grandmother, who endured all kinds of horrors in her life, sucked it all up and changed the course of our family tree? She came from another land, assimilated, worked, worked and worked some more.
Is it my parents, who gave me such an amazing childhood and every opportunity to grow and learn? They moved me from where they were comfortable to the best school district they knew, worked and saved and worked and saved some more; they were the first generation of their families to go to college and sought more and better for their children. They loved and supported us and made us believe we could do anything.
Is it my husband, my Danny, whose loyalty and steadfastness know no bounds? He gets up before dawn each day, works at his office, works at home, works with anyone who needs help and provides love and stability and fun and order to our day. The best years of my life have been with that man, who can see what our family needs and then just makes it happen.
Is it my friends? A group of women so smart and so funny and so kind and loving? They provide the fun, the love, the support that keeps me going day in and day out.
Is it my children, whom I would gladly give my life for over and over, whom makes me strive to be the best person I can be? They give me purpose; they have caused me to grow more than any other experience in my life; they are full of life and energy and love and laughter. I would be just an empty shell of the person I am today without them.
Could it possibly be ME? Am I the hero of my own life story?
How 21st century-thinking is that?
The point of the sermon is this: God is the hero of your life story. No matter who you are or what you do or what decisions you make or where you end up in life, God has been beside you, holding you up, blessing you with your parents and husbands and friends and children, challenging you with losses and fears and roadblocks, and loving you every single moment. He saves you from yourself.
God has been there all along.
During the sermon, our Pastor asked a great question that I have been thinking about all week: who is the hero of your life story?
First of all, for the last few years it is hard for me to even conceptualize my life as a story, or narrative, at all. The days are a blur of growing children, housework, pregnancies, meals, activities, and friends. The days so melt into one another that it is difficult to step back and say the year or years have a beginning, middle and end. That decisions have consequences that we can see. That we are moving forward or backwards. Because so much energy is used to push through the day and get it all done, and hopefully by bedtime everyone in your house is fed, relatively clean and moderately happy.
I know: I reach for the stars.
But as I sat there in church on Sunday, I thought about it. Who is the hero of my life story?
Is it my grandmother, who endured all kinds of horrors in her life, sucked it all up and changed the course of our family tree? She came from another land, assimilated, worked, worked and worked some more.
Is it my parents, who gave me such an amazing childhood and every opportunity to grow and learn? They moved me from where they were comfortable to the best school district they knew, worked and saved and worked and saved some more; they were the first generation of their families to go to college and sought more and better for their children. They loved and supported us and made us believe we could do anything.
Is it my husband, my Danny, whose loyalty and steadfastness know no bounds? He gets up before dawn each day, works at his office, works at home, works with anyone who needs help and provides love and stability and fun and order to our day. The best years of my life have been with that man, who can see what our family needs and then just makes it happen.
Is it my friends? A group of women so smart and so funny and so kind and loving? They provide the fun, the love, the support that keeps me going day in and day out.
Is it my children, whom I would gladly give my life for over and over, whom makes me strive to be the best person I can be? They give me purpose; they have caused me to grow more than any other experience in my life; they are full of life and energy and love and laughter. I would be just an empty shell of the person I am today without them.
Could it possibly be ME? Am I the hero of my own life story?
How 21st century-thinking is that?
The point of the sermon is this: God is the hero of your life story. No matter who you are or what you do or what decisions you make or where you end up in life, God has been beside you, holding you up, blessing you with your parents and husbands and friends and children, challenging you with losses and fears and roadblocks, and loving you every single moment. He saves you from yourself.
God has been there all along.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
De Ja Vu.
When I looked at the pictures posted yesterday, I knew I had a similar shot of Jenna... can you tell they are siblings??Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Dinnertime.
Tonight's dinner for Alec: meatloaf, oatmeal, and a little bit of ripped up napkin, which I'm pretty sure qualifies as a carb.
Here he is also demonstrating his new trick: "How big is Alec? SOOOOOOOOOOoooooooo big!" He does it when HE wants to, and if you try to coax him to do it on demand, he looks at you with the exact same look Jenna did, the one that says, "I'm not some PERFORMING MONKEY... I'll do it when I feel like."
Eating has been a bit of a challenge for Alec. He seems to just now be able to tolerate textures different than pureed baby food; I tried a few weeks ago giving him those puffs that melt in your mouth and as soon as he tried it, he gagged and promptly barfed up his whole dinner. Jenna, for all of her, ahem, difficulties, was always a great eater and still is. Michaela got furious at this age that I had to feed her and swore off baby food and just lived on formula until she could feed herself a bit better. Alec is a mix of the two: willing to be fed, really enjoys certain foods- he could live on oatmeal and applesauce- but struggles with the texture thing.
This became abundantly clear last weekend, when after a good hearty dinner for all of us, we went outside to weed our front bed, which had been neglected for some time. I sat Alec down on a blanket in the shade, brought out some toys, and went to work weeding. (The girls also weeded for about 7 minutes, then Michaela said quite hesitantly, "Oohh, Tomer (a boy in our neighborhood that the girls have played with) is outside... I'm going to ask him if his mom had her baby..." which was code for This is really boring and I'm trying to casually get out of it. ) Alec, however, was much more interested in the grass and started pulling it out by the handful and stuffing it in his mouth. Which made him gag. And made him puke. So after working for about 15 minutes, I had a barf-covered kid and blanket to deal with. I stripped him of his clothes outside, went inside and gave him a bath. When we came back out, I was smart and just put him in the stroller, where he promptly fell asleep.
But this week we started giving him some more table foods: the meatloaf, grilled cheese, pastas, bread, etc. Some he really likes and some he is indifferent to. At least he's trying and tolerating it a bit better. The one thing he does seem to really enjoy eating- which the girls never, ever paid attention to- is the cat's food.
He'll gobble that by the handful, and just smiles sweetly, oh so sweetly up at me, when I say in my best firm Mommy voice, "No, Alec! Yucky!"
Thursday, July 15, 2010
The rhythm of summer.
We are finally hitting our stride this week.
Summer is here in full force: it has been over 88 degrees for most of the last week and a half. Add to that the incredible mugginess and you can tell just by looking at my frizzed out hair that it's July. I have been scampering around the house, pulling down shades, pulling curtains closed and turning up the thermostat so we don't end up with an out of control power bill.
We have started doing some of the fun things we wait all year to do: Dan brought the girls to the drive in movies for the first time (they saw the new Karate Kid, which got good reviews in our family, but Dan says he'll always be partial to the original), we've gone for ice cream, enjoyed tons of playdates, done some crafts, enjoyed some bluegrass music at our library summer concert series, and of course have swam. Wipeout is back on ABC for the summer, and we have set our DVR to record the whole series. The girls LOVE it.
The only issue we are having is getting the girls to bed at a decent hour. They drag out the getting ready for bed process so long that they often lose their reward: laying on our bed and reading aloud with me for a few minutes before heading into their own rooms. We are reading On the Banks of Plum Creek from the Little House Series, and I am so excited to read it to them but-and I am not making this up- it took them 45 minutes to get jammies on, get a snack, brush teeth and go to the bathroom. 45 MINUTES! It is like every night is a new experience for them:"Do I HAVE TO brush my teeth?" "But I went potty a little while ago!" "I have no pajamas to wear!" and so on and so on... the best is when on the rare occasion I say it is okay to skip brushing teeth and Jenna always whispers with shock and awe, "What will the dentist say?"
"He'll say that you should take the two minutes and brush your teeth so they are healthy," I always tell her.
Sigh. And so on and so on.
Alec is doing great, crawling around, occasionally pulling himself up, and working hard on popping out his first bottom teeth. He teeths much like his sisters, very easily, with little fuss and drama and crying. He has been sleeping through the night most nights now, which is an absolute joy and dream and makes me love him all the more. He goes to bed around 9pm and sleeps til around 6am, and then takes a morning bottle and falls back to sleep with me on the couch for an hour or two, allowing us to get some good cuddle time in. He is growing great and is in the 92nd percentile for height and 75th for weight. He is a love and a blessing and a joy.
As you can see from the pictures, we are mostly settled in and getting used to living in the new house. With every day that passes we are more comfortable here, hanging some more pictures, processing some more boxes and loving being here more and more. We can BREATHE in this house.
The last year of my life has been such a blur because of Alec's arrival and moving, I am beyond ready to sit back, relax and just float through the next couple of years.
For now, I am enjoying the summer and spending all this time with our babies.
Summer is here in full force: it has been over 88 degrees for most of the last week and a half. Add to that the incredible mugginess and you can tell just by looking at my frizzed out hair that it's July. I have been scampering around the house, pulling down shades, pulling curtains closed and turning up the thermostat so we don't end up with an out of control power bill.
We have started doing some of the fun things we wait all year to do: Dan brought the girls to the drive in movies for the first time (they saw the new Karate Kid, which got good reviews in our family, but Dan says he'll always be partial to the original), we've gone for ice cream, enjoyed tons of playdates, done some crafts, enjoyed some bluegrass music at our library summer concert series, and of course have swam. Wipeout is back on ABC for the summer, and we have set our DVR to record the whole series. The girls LOVE it.
The only issue we are having is getting the girls to bed at a decent hour. They drag out the getting ready for bed process so long that they often lose their reward: laying on our bed and reading aloud with me for a few minutes before heading into their own rooms. We are reading On the Banks of Plum Creek from the Little House Series, and I am so excited to read it to them but-and I am not making this up- it took them 45 minutes to get jammies on, get a snack, brush teeth and go to the bathroom. 45 MINUTES! It is like every night is a new experience for them:"Do I HAVE TO brush my teeth?" "But I went potty a little while ago!" "I have no pajamas to wear!" and so on and so on... the best is when on the rare occasion I say it is okay to skip brushing teeth and Jenna always whispers with shock and awe, "What will the dentist say?"
"He'll say that you should take the two minutes and brush your teeth so they are healthy," I always tell her.
Sigh. And so on and so on.
Alec is doing great, crawling around, occasionally pulling himself up, and working hard on popping out his first bottom teeth. He teeths much like his sisters, very easily, with little fuss and drama and crying. He has been sleeping through the night most nights now, which is an absolute joy and dream and makes me love him all the more. He goes to bed around 9pm and sleeps til around 6am, and then takes a morning bottle and falls back to sleep with me on the couch for an hour or two, allowing us to get some good cuddle time in. He is growing great and is in the 92nd percentile for height and 75th for weight. He is a love and a blessing and a joy.
As you can see from the pictures, we are mostly settled in and getting used to living in the new house. With every day that passes we are more comfortable here, hanging some more pictures, processing some more boxes and loving being here more and more. We can BREATHE in this house.
The last year of my life has been such a blur because of Alec's arrival and moving, I am beyond ready to sit back, relax and just float through the next couple of years.
For now, I am enjoying the summer and spending all this time with our babies.
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