put on love...

the top, and the bottom...

2011-12-08T21:54:00.005-06:00

Idea stolen from my dear mother in law, Donna.

My tree is yet to be put up, all my decorations are still freezing in the garage, and I have not made a single cookie. I am a little afraid that my attempts at keeping this Christmas really about Christmas will fail once I begin admitting that it really is the season for celebration. But that target lady that I adore has reappeared on the TV, and it is snowing yet again. It's undeniable, Christmas is here.

Since getting a tree today is out of the question, and I have studying and schoolwork to do rather than baking or decorating... I will celebrate by watching movies, and by sharing with you my top 10 Christmas Movies.

Melinda's Top Ten Christmas Movies:

10. Miracle on 34th Street - I adore the sweetness and innocence of this movie. My brother and I always watched this with my mom as we put up decorations the day after Thanksgiving. I love that sweet Santa, and the mutual adoration between him and Natalie Wood. I don't believe in Santa, and never did but still this is a timeless classic.

9. The Family Man - This is not just a Christmas movie to me, I will watch it anytime of year. I like these types of movies where people can get a glimpse of what their life could have been. My heart melts when the sweet little girl looks at Nicolas Cage after thinking that he had her daddy had been replaced by an alien and says, "I knew you'd come back." I love the theme of love and family, I love how he changes, and I love how they always "choose us."

8. Prancer - I am not sure if everyone knows about Prancer. I have loved this movie since I was a little girl. About a little girl who believes she finds the reindeer Prancer injured in the woods, and hides him in her father's shed and nurses him back to health. She is lost and feels very alone, without her mother around. In saving Prancer, she also ends up saving her broken family. This low budget 80's movie is slow moving and not a strikingly made movie, but it moves me to tears.

7. The Santa Clause - This movie is silly and sweet and heartbreaking and sweet again. It was obviously made for Children and clearly lacks cinematic brilliance. But I laugh and laugh at this movie every year. "Does this look like a little weight to you?" I recently watched this move with some young children who had never seen it before, they were less than amused, which makes me think this movie will lack staying power. But as long as it's here, it is in my top.

6. Love Actually - This is another movie that I don't just watch at Christmas time. It is rated R, and has every reason to be so rated. But movie ratings rarely bother me. It is about Love of all kinds, between friends, between family, between spouses, secret love, unrequited love, puppy love, new love, lasting love, and some sex thrown in there for good measure. It has some of my favorite people in it; Alan Rickman, Colin Firth, Hugh Grant, Liam Neeson, Emma Thompson. It is British, and funny, and moving, and heartbreaking. Lots of mini stories all intertwined, it is exactly the kind of movie I like. Great at Anytime of year.

5. The Muppet Christmas Carol - We all know A Christmas Carol has been done a million times, by nearly everyone and everything under the sun. This is BY FAR my favorite version. It is sweet and funny and moving. I will laugh, and sing a-long, and tear up not just once. Rizzo and Gonzo are hilarious narrators, and Michael Caine is an excellent Ebenezer Scrooge. I jumped for joy when I finally found this on DVD, after years of watching it recorded to VHS from TV.

4. The Small One - Don't even get me started, I am weeping already just thinking about this animated Disney short film. Based on a children's book by Charles Tazewell, it is a sweet story of a boy and his donkey, small one. Small One can no longer carry his weight as a work horse, and must be sold. The boy travels into the neighboring town of Nazareth to try sell his donkey to a good home. The only one who has any interest is the town tanner, and he is almost ready to give him up, when another opportunity arises. The boy sells sweet Small One to a man looking for something to carry his very pregnant wife back to Bethlehem. The boy watches Mary, Joseph, and Small One walk off toward a shining star in the distance. I am crying right now, I am not going to lie to you. If you have not seen this, you really must watch it, you can find it on youtube.

The Top 3 could really be a 3 way tie, but I put them in an order... don't hate.

3. Home Alone - No Christmas is complete without at least 2 viewings of Home Alone. On a side note, this soundtrack runs though my head NON-STOP ALL YEAR LONG. I drive my co-workers crazy humming and singing Home Alone every day. This is easily the most quoted movie in my arsenal, and I wish I could watch it all year long (for some reason I don't feel comfortable watching it all year as I do some others on this list, although I have been known to make exceptions). I believe this movie will stand the test of time, unlike other movies in its era. And I can not wait to introduce it to Asher someday. I will pass on the 2nd and 3rd and 24th.

2. White Christmas - I have already watched this once this year and will most assuredly watch it again. This was my mom's favorite movie from her favorite holiday and her favorite time of year. We grew up watching it A LOT. We watched lots of musicals, and this and Sound of Music reign supreme in my book. I love all of this movie from beginning to end, save one dance number in the show (you all know which one it is, because everyone I know dislikes the same one). I love to hear Bing, he is at the top of my Christmas music love. He and Danny are so funny and cute. Rosemary Clooney, when she sings "Love, You Didn't Do Right By Me". Oh my lands, I die. Beautiful. And that Vera-Ellen sure could dance couldn't she, and had the tiniest waist I have ever seen. I love everything about this movie and will watch it over and over again every year until I am no longer blessed with life on this earth.

1. It's A Wonderful Life - This is probably my daddy's favorite movie of all time. Every year since as long as I can remember, he made us watch it with him armed with a bowl of super buttery popcorn and a hand made by dad milkshake. When I was younger, I suffered through it. At some point in my history, I think I was probably in high school, I watched it, and felt something completely different than the boredom and confusion I had previously felt. I laughed when I was supposed to, and I cried when others did, and I fell in love with Jimmy Stewart and I adored every moment of the movie. I have watched it every year since, and I laugh and cry and I am moved beyond measure. I love the authentic relationships. I adore the scene when George is talking to his dad, the last conversation they ever have. I love George and Mary's honeymoon. I love how George is like the rest of us and forgets how loved and appreciated he is in day to day to life. It is easy to forget how blessed we are. And the end, oh the end. "Strange, isn't it? Each man's life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?" "George Bailey, I'll love you 'til the day I die." "I wish I had a million dollars... HOT DOG!" "What is it you want, Mary? What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down. Hey. That's a pretty good idea. I'll give you the moon, Mary."

And the Runner's Up (While I love you, there was only room for 10 at the top):
A Charlie Brown Christmas (duh)
How the Grinch Stole Christmas (1966 TV)
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (1964 TV)
Frosty The Snowman (1969 TV)
The Nativity Story (if you haven't seen this, watch it. It is Mary and Joseph's story and I loved it)
The Shop Around The Corner
Scrooged
Mr Magoo's Christmas Carol (1962 TV)
Heidi (Shilrey Temple--I'll take the colorized version of black and white)
The Holiday

And The Bottom 3 Christmas Movies (which so many Love, but I despise, in no particular order):
National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation (ick)
The Christmas Story (gross)
Elf (gag)

So tell me, what Christmas Movies can you not wait to watch each year? What Christmas movies do you despise that other love?

Bridget: You are such an encouragement and a light. sometimes being wife and mom is hard isn't it? but oh so worth it.
Shelby: Thank You so much for making me feel like not such a putz. You gave me great ideas!
Donna: I am a mess every single time I watch that darn thing. It gets me to my core.
Axelle: Dear friend, Your comments from a world away make my day. We will try to cherish this Christmas as a fmaily together. I would love your recipe!

advent...

2011-11-30T11:47:00.005-06:00

[AC] Promo 2011 - International Justice Mission from Advent Conspiracy on Vimeo.

every year as Christmas approaches i find myself stressed out, unable to sleep, and a little sad. it is the same thing every year. money gets tighter, the pressure to get everyone gifts they will like weighs down, and i get stressed and grumpy. i know i am not alone. my daddy is stressed and grumpy every holiday season, has been my whole life. (my daddy and i are also the ones who manage finances in our households, so this may have something to with it) travel, family meals, gifts, holiday snacks, cold weather gear, the dollar amounts add up quickly. some years i stress myself out so much leading up to Christmas, that by the time it actually arrives, i am physically ill. i spend Christmas day in bed fighting off whatever illness decided to creep into my body during my vulnerability.

this year i decided to combat that. we decided to make gifts this year, spend less. we decided to give. we decided we would not let Christmas turn into a marketable holiday in our house. not this year. then money get tighter than usual, and even our cutting down and cutting back seemed like way too much. and this morning... it happened. i woke up with dreams of Christmas stress haunting my wakefulness, and a pit in my stomach.

what is it about the holidays that has this effect on me, and why can i not control myself from being sucked into the lies and stress of what Christmas has become. i know the meaning for the season. i had full intentions of remembering and honoring the reason for the season this year, and 1 day shy of advent, i find myself being sucked in.

the truth is, i care far too much of what other people think to not allow myself to get sucked in. won't people think our handmade gifts this year are cheap and shallow compared to the large gifts we will receive? but we have to have a big Christmas dinner, what would everyone think if i served frozen pizza on Christmas day? what about those traditions that drain the bank, but make us feel warm and nostalgic every year? i like to think that i worry little about what people think of me, and most of the year i can keep to that. Christmas is the exception. and i hate what this worldly Christmas makes me into, but i seem helpless to it's control over me.

can this really be? can i be so weak that i allow my Christmas to be perverted by the world? can i be so easily influenced that i am willing to deny my own heart and desires to fulfill what the world expects of me? it seems so... and this makes me feel even worse. the pit in my stomach grows with every word i write, because i know this is true. i know that my life is being influenced by the world far more than i ever would think possible.

yesterday as i was combing the internet searching for ways i can give of myself this holiday season in an effort to keep myself on track. i found my way to the World Vision website, where i was browsing their Gift Catalog dreaming of giving a couple of goats and chickens to a family a world away that could change their life drastically. and then on the side bar i saw it... sweet jose's face. tears streamed down my face when i saw his face, and thought of all i had, and all he lacked. a sweet little boy who's parent struggle to provide for him clean water and food, and who would love to provide and education for him if it was possible. and i clicked that button as fast as i could for fear that someone else would want to sponsor this sweet boy who just tugged on my heart strings.

and today, i am going back to look at the picture of his sweet face, knowing that i may be providing for him in ways his family wished they could. and as advent approaches, i am going to continue to look at his face each day, and remind myself of all that i have, and all that i can give. i am going to concentrate on my own sweet family and the huge blessing they are to me. i am going to be diligent about reading in the word. i am going to pray and pray and pray. i am going to do my darndest to not let this holiday season get the best of me. i am going to be that person i always thought i was, strong, sure, and unfailing. i will know and remember the true meaning of this Christmas, and i will try to live it over the next 26 days.

pray for me, pray for my heart, pray for my family, as we try to abstain from the commercial Christmas that the world is asking of us, and try to focus on the cradle and the cross, and love personified.

yes this video is almost the same. just watch them both.

[AC] Promo 2011 from Advent Conspiracy on Vimeo.

sarah anne... thank you sweet cousin. you are always such an encouragement and support.
bridget... did you get my email? i sent you one 1 couple of weeks ago.
gina... thank you so much, hope your thanksgiving was fantastic.

this day...

2011-11-23T13:23:00.000-06:00

Thanksgiving Day Blues

Norman Rockwell
November 28, 1942 Saturday Evening Post Cover

this is what i would look like if i had to make thanksgiving dinner, only my face wouldn't be quite so jovial. and i would probably be screaming obscenities.

this day i am thankful for lovely inlaws who will allow us to invade their home, turn it upside down, and cook for us while we are there.

Basting the Turkey
Joseph Christian Leyendecker

i love this picture. look at this sweet little boy waiting by his mama, watching the turkey bake. asher always likes to stay close to me while i cook. and he loves to wait by the oven (mostly because i think he likes the adorable baby looking back at him)

this day i am thankful for my own sweet boy who challenges me and blesses me every single day.

i am thankful for my family, and the wonderfully strong women that i am surrounded by, and encouraged through that are found there.

this day i am thankful for getting to spend 2 days with my sweet cousin jennifer, and her two beautiful girls before the stomach flu robbed me of my last day with her. i love you jen, i am so proud of who you have become.

i am thankful for this life. the chance to live another day. to live in a country far more blessed than most. i am thankful for a day where i will be allowed to sit around a table with the ones i love in front of a bountiful feast and visit and laugh and love and give thanks. i am thankful that i live where i can worship, praise, be thankful, to a God who knows and understands my heart.

i am thankful for every day past. i am thankful for this day. i am thankful there will another.

on this day, i am thankful. on this day i give praise.

funky funky... funky funky... brace yourself as the beat hits ya, dip tip, flip fantasia...

2011-11-16T15:01:00.003-06:00

i've been in a blog funk.

for like a year and a half.

my mind is full of life and living... “But there it is — in the midst of life we are in death.” do you know what this quote is from? i think it is brilliant. and heartbreaking. and true. and telling of how my life has felt over the last year and a half.

and so, blogging does not always seem the right thing to do.

writing is not coming easily.

i could write about my life and the death it is facing... but it is sad, and hard to write over and over. how many times do people want to hear about my sick family, or my dear grandpa, and my miscarriage... it is hard to talk about, hard to write, hard to live... but that is what i am living.

i could write about poopy diapers and bumped heads and the constant struggle over what to make for dinner. but who cares? i am not inspired by poopy diapers or ramen noodles, so who else would be? it is boring, and nondescript... but that is what i am living.

i am living my life, and as hard and lost as i may feel sometimes... i am loving my life. but my life is far beyond ordinary, it is extraordinarily ordinary. i am a simple girl, with simple desires; faith, family, love. i love my little boy... i love my husband... i am learning to grow in my faith... but this does not always translate easily or enjoyably to the page.

my station in life is being a mom and wife right now. and just living. and it doesn't leave much time for blogging, or writing, or even deep thinking. if it is hard to think, it is hard to write... and so i have been in a blog funk. perhaps, all i have now is the livelihood i have become. i am.

“Is that quite fair, to deprive a man of his livelihood when he’s done nothing wrong? Your mother derives some satisfaction from her work at the hospital, I think, some sense of self worth? Would you really deny the same to poor old Molesley? And when you are master here, is the butler to be dismissed? Or the footmen? How many maids or kitchen staff will be allowed to stay, or must every one be driven out? We all have different parts to play, and we must all be allowed to play them.”

my part to play is a simple part. not a leading roll. i am more like a maid. but i too have my part to play. wife and mother and daughter and sister and employee and student and friend. i wish i had the mind to write. i wish i had the time...

but for now it appears, my role to play is just what it is... living as i am.

and so my blog funk may continue. and i will try not to discourage myself in it. because, i believe i am serving a purpose, and playing the role i was meant to play right now.

ps... both of these quotes are from the same place. do you know where? the names in the second should give it away.

emily... that is a lovely story and keepsake of your family! ramona bean will treasure it in the future, as you treasure it now.
gina... thank you for the prayers, and just thank you!
donna... we are hoping he keeps this desire for the outdoors. we both like to be outside, hopefully he will love camping with us in the future.
tiffany... thank you so much! i should mention, i photograph better than i look in real life. asher is growing too fast, can i slow this down somehow? you can call matt hot anyday. he won't mind.
rachel... thank you, we tried to get him to "moo" but mostly he just grunted. i chopped it all off the middle of august. i love it, matthew hates it. cest la vie.

D is for discipline...

2011-11-09T11:30:00.003-06:00

An ordered life- one that honors God’s commandments, and sets aside time for Him, will see great blessing. It may not be the kind of blessing you’re thinking of- a new house, a fancy car, or freedom from any sickness or sadness. No, it’s a blessing far greater. Those that pursue Christ through the spiritual disciplines will see more and more of the greatest treasure of all - Jesus Himself! And while external circumstances may be difficult, you will have Christ Himself.

The Bible says in the Psalms, "I will praise you, O Lord my God, with all my heart; I will glorify your name forever." Well-known pastor John Piper said, "It is about the greatness of God, not the significance of man."

If through the spiritual disciplines God becomes greater and more significant- you are heading in the right direction! If through your spiritual practices you are compelled to worship Jesus Christ- you are getting there. If you are motivated to tell other people about Jesus, you are on the right track. Remember the goal of the spiritual disciplines is not discipline but to become more Christ-like, to worship more fully, and to help bring others into a relationship with our Lord Jesus. Nothing is better than that.

Luis Palau

I heard the end of this on the way to work the other day. the last paragraph is what struck me (because that is all i heard in my frantic flipping of the radio stations, searching for music and not voice) "Remember the goal of spiritual disciplines is not discipline but to become more Christ-like, to worship more fully, and to help bring others into a relationship with out Lord Jesus. Nothing is better than that." So often people equate christianity, or faith of any kind, to rules, regulations, and well... discipline. But the purpose of spiritual discipline, is not discipline... it is to be more Christ-like. to make God bigger and us smaller. and in doing that we worship more fully and lead others to him. you can find the short weekly series on discipline here. and i advise you to... there is some good stuff in there.

he warns us against the extreme of legalism in our spiritual disciplines. he reminds us that discipline is a good character trait to have, but if that discipline is not leading us to love and serve others, than our discipline isn't serving a purpose. he tells us to use the result of our discipline to share Christ with others.

i liked every part of this series, and think you would enjoy it too... so check it out.

while reading this series, my mind began to drift to the discipline of my own child, who is growing more naughty by the moment. i know these things are not the same, the discipline of children, is far different from the spiritual discipline luis palau was speaking of... but my mind is nearly always consumed with thougths of my family (yes this is probably proof of my own lack of spiritual discipline, but let's pretend it doesn't).

asher knows the things he is not supposed to do, he understands when we say "no".

and still there are moments when he heads toward that fireplace screen looking at me the whole way, waiting for me to react, because he knows he is not supposed to play with it. and he stands an inch away with his hand outstretched smirking at me as if saying, "look at me, mom, what are you going to do? i'm gonna touch it..." and that little naughty face is so cute i want to just scoop him up and kiss him and set him back down to play with the fireplace screen.

but i remember the reason for not allowing him to play with that fireplace screen. the pointy scrolled iron edges of the screen could hurt him. if he pulls the screen on top of himself he could hurt himself. and if he dared to move it, he would find all the excitement and wonder of the fireplace itself, which could of course lead to DANGER. so instead i tell him "no". and watch him inch closer, not taking his eyes off of me. and then i have to walk over and again tell him, "no" while standing between him and the screen. and then he tries to reach around me again to grab that screen again.

and i remind myself that in disciplining him now, i am teaching him there are boundaries. in disciplining him now, i am keeping him safe. i am teaching him that he is not the boss, and i am. i am teaching him that even though it doesn't seem like it, mommy does know best. and i know in teaching him these things now, i will save myself years of strife, years of fights and rebellion, because he will understand that he doesn't make the rules, but i do. and i make the rules because i only want what is best for him... and so i again in my sternest voice tell him "no." and when he chooses to ignore it, i again have to say, "no" and slap his little hand. this may or may not cause tears. it is sometimes followed by another attempt, and subsequently another slap on the hand. and sometimes it is followed by a look of seriousness on his face, like maybe he understands.

and i know there will be much harder things to come. i know there will be more times i have to tell him "no", more times i have to slap his hand, or ground him, or keep him from playing with that friend who makes his attitude suck. i will have to take away his favorite toy, i will have to sit him in the corner, i will have to talk to him over and over and over again... and i will have to remind myself, that this is a mean to an end. that in disciplining him i am really helping him. that in disciplining him i am making him a stronger, better, person to be. i am doing this because it is what will make him into the best him he can be.

so i will continue to discipline him, now and as long as i can, so that someday, while he may be able to blame me for lots of other things in his life, he will not be able to say that i let him do whatever he wanted and that i didn't teach him boundaries enough.

tid-bits...

2011-11-04T09:36:00.001-05:00

my grandma lives in michigan in the same town she has lived in her whole life. she has lived in the same house for over 50 years.

the upstairs of her house is filled with gems and family heirlooms. she has begun going through some of the hidden treasures upstairs that have not been seen for years and years. among them, she found this... her baby chair.

and chose to give it to asher. at first he wasn't so sure, he couldn't figure out how to crawl into it. then he figured out how to stand on it and create his own amusement park ride rocking ti back and forth. it had to be moved to the hallway, to the other side of the baby gate for a little while. but now... he figured out how to get in and out of it, and he loves sitting in it and watching tv or playing. i love that we have this little treasure of family history in our home.

the asher boy loves to be outside. he would rather be outside than anywhere else. when he frees himself from the confines of the baby-gated rooms, he goes and stands at the garage door gently tapping on it saying "go go go go go go." this is one of the only words he mumbles that you can understand. the boy wants to go outside.

one reason we chose this house is because it is so close to the lake. a quick walk down the hill and through the shaded walkway and we get to this playground. a few steps more, and we are at the lake. it really is a bummer they have drained the lake to try to get the zebra mussels under control and our lake has been near empty for the last 8 months... next spring it should be full and zebra mussel free.

asher loves to swing. he swings and swings and swings. and when you try to get him out to try a slide or to play in the sand. he screams and screams and walks straight back toward the swing.

i love to be there with my family.

by the looks of it, matthew does too. he doesn't often smile this big, and never for a picture.

it's really too bad you can't just have a photographer follow you around in your everyday life. but i can take a mean self portrait.

and then halloween came...

asher was a moo-cow.

and the cutest little one you ever did see...

we trick or treated with darth vader. and practiced sharing our toys. neither was accomplished with out tears and screams. we were so happy to have becky and paul and isaiah there to play with us. thanks for trick or treating with us guys!

life continues, and i just wanted to share a few pictures of our life with you.

if you think about it... today... will you say a prayer for me. a lot going on. prayer is always needed, and felt across the miles.

uncle-ship...

2011-10-31T15:40:00.000-05:00

what does it take to become an uncle?

is it blood, flesh and bone, DNA? surely. if you are a brother and your sibling has a child, you become an uncle.

but can it also be something else.

my uncle dan was there the day i was born. before i was cleaned off, when i was still all gooey and squishy and disgusting, he held me.  it was the beginning.

he and my dad met their first day at Grace University. they were instant friends. uncle dan may be my dad's most important friendship of his life. after mom and dad got married, uncle dan ate dinner with them lots of nights. they remained friends through many years, the closest of friends. 500 miles away or more, couldn't separate them.  he has been a constant encouragement and confidant to my dad for over 30 years.

he bought me my first pair of nike's, when i was just a babe. when asher was born, he bought him a nike sweatsuit, to pay homage to my baby gift.

he says he let me eat ice cream cones and junk food when i was just a baby. i know he must have.

he bought me my first barbie. and to be correct, she was really a skipper. he searched and searched for the barbie "without the bumps" (aka boobs) he didn't want me to get a complex from my doll playing.

he bought me kangaroo sneakers in kindergarten. i thought they were the coolest.

when uncle dan got married, we were there. aunt shelly was his perfect match. he was so relieved when the pastor forgot to say "you may now kiss the bride". and turned a million shades of red when he remembered and announced it again at the reception.

he used to own a champion auto parts store with his dad. i remember going into the store and playing. i thought i was so cool, marching back into his office, no one else roaming the aisles could just march back into his office. i have a champion auto parts semi truck roaming around my parents somewhere, as well as several other champion toy cars.

i loved to play with his collection of kaleidoscopes. i remember him working magic with a yo-yo.

he has always called my brother jesse, chester. i don't even know why. he calls him chester to this day, i still don't know why, but it warms my heart. no one else in the world calls him chester. just uncle dan. that is just something special between them.

he traveled 500 miles to be there for my high school graduation. it meant the world to me.

the day before i left for college, he gave me a $5 bill. he warned me i was headed for a hard semester, a lonely semester, that i might feel lost and afraid. aunt shelly kept asking him to stop scaring me. his words were the most honest college advice i ever received. he told me when i was feeling bad, and alone, and like i wanted to quit in those first couple days on campus to take that $5 and buy myself an ice cream cone. that first lonely early evening at college, i drove myself to the ice cream parlor, crying the whole way, and bought myself a giant cone of butter pecan. uncle dan knew exactly how i felt, he had been there before, and he told me the truth. that ice cream cone was the best i ever had.

uncle dan is not my uncle by blood, or flesh and bone, or DNA. but he is my family is every sense of the word. becoming an uncle is far more than just a sibling having a child... it is love and dedication... it is something that lasts a lifetime.

last week uncle dan had a stroke. at 51 years old. with 2 girls away at college, with another daughter and son still at home.

when i saw the words, tears fell silently from my cheek. not my uncle dan. not my daddy's best friend.

his family is strong.  they learned to be stubborn from him. but they are still feeling a little lost. aunt shelly is always sure and in control... she is striving to remain that way, but finding it hard.

they have hope.  in a God who is the great physician. in a God whom they can cast their worries upon. they are praying mighty prayers, they are praying for the best... because they believe in a God who is big enough to answer their prayers, they believe in a God of miracles.  uncle dan helped shape them in this way. it is from his leadership, his guidance, his faith, that they also have learned to believe.

this will be a very long journey for them. danger will still lurke. and i ask you to pray with me.

PRAY BIG. pray for a FULL HEALING for uncle dan. pray for strength and for guidance for his family, and for the medical staff. pray for clarity for aunt shelly in the coming days, as the shock fades. pray for peace and comfort and little pain for him, and for the whole family. pray that God be glorified through this, and every step in their lives.

he was with me in the hospital on that day i was born. it was the beginning. and now i will try to be there (in body, in spirit, in mind) with him in the hospital, in rehab, at home, in these days that are to come. this will not be the end.

me and uncle dan on my wedding day. (ignore my bat wing, i had gained a few pounds since i bought the dress, and this is an unflattering angle.)

mommy gray: thanks for reading! we are blessed.
sarah anne: so is asher. it is fun to watch.
cheryl: you continue to be in my prayers. thank you for sharing, i can say the same for asher. i know i will always be so grateful for the love this daddy and boy share.

give me a break...

2011-10-28T14:38:00.001-05:00

today i ate a kit-kat. a mini kit-kat, okay fine... i ate 2 mini kit-kats, maybe 3. and i was reminded of when i was a little girl.

my entire life my dad had a secret stash of candy and goodies that he hid somewhere in the kitchen. in fact, he still does. he's got a sweet tooth. i remember there being kit-kats hidden there in abundance. when i was allowed to choose my own special treat, i always wanted a kit-kat and a mountain dew. not because they were so delicious i couldn't help myself... but because that is what my daddy liked. today i mostly hate mountain dew, and i enjoy a kit-kat as much as i enjoy most cohocoalte, moderately. (not to be confused with how i enjoy my mom's homemade double fudge brownies. i would die for those. other chocolate... is just okay) back then, i just wanted what my daddy wanted.

i wanted to be a michigan fan, because my daddy was a michigan fan. i wanted to help collect offering at church, and i wanted to play basketball.

kids want to be like their daddy. they want to eat their veggies so they grow up big and strong like their daddy. they want to marry their mommy, just like daddy did. they even want to eat kit-kat's like their daddy. and when that unexpected 4 letter word slips out of their mouth, really they were just repeating what they heard daddy say.

for better or worse. a father's place in the family is irreplaceable. and most of the time kids do grow up to be like their daddy, at least a little bit.

so in a couple years when asher always chooses a reese's or doritos for his special snack, when he picks his nose, and when he ignores me asking him to do something by turning the music up; i will shoot darts from my eyes in the way of matthew.

and in a couple years, when asher tells me i look pretty when i get home from work even when i don't; when he does the dishes just because he knows i hate to; and when he tells me he loves me whe i don't deserve it; i will look at matthew with nothing but love and adoration.

in this case, i think the better outweighs the worse. in my case, i will be so blessed to have kids who want to be just like their daddy.

and in those moments when they are flicking boogers across the room or saying something just to get a rise out of me... i will break me off a piece of that kit-kat bar (from my own hidden goodie stash in the kitchen), and give myself a break because that is just what my daddy would do.

and now to copy my dear friend emily, who copied from someone else, who i am sure copied from someone else (that's the way great blog ideas work, ya know)... i will start replying to comments from the previous posts here. you all are too important, and have such ovely things to say, you deserve your own spot on my blog...

mom... thanks, you are a little partial though.
beth in the city... thank you so much. you are too right, it is so easy to judge ourselves the harshest, and i will take all the encouragement i can get.
jen.. i love you so much, and miss you every day. funny how we can remember to teach our children things that are hard for us. you would die if you saw our pumpkins, i scoured the patch for the 2 tiniest perfect pumpkins. they are little and perfectly shaped.
gina... you are always such an encouragement to me. thank you. believe me, i have a ton still to learn, i can paint a pretty good picture of myself. ;)
jep... you are a blessing. to me, to emma, to donna. thank you so much for your kind words, your encouragement, and your prayers (and all those lovely crock pot recipes)
donna... so blessed.

silver lining...

2011-10-24T21:59:00.001-05:00

the sun does not always shine when you want it to.

sometimes it rains on the day we go to the pumpkin patch.

and on days when it seems to be too much, and you ask God for a reprieve, you instead...

wake up with a sore throat, a puffy eye, and a crying baby.

and when you get on the scale it shows a positive instead of a negative.

and then you pick up your car from the shop and it is still broke.

and then you blow a tire on the way to daycare, and are super late for work.

and prospect of finding your dream job looks bleaker and bleaker.

and the bills keep piling up.

and your grandpa is still sick. still dying.

and your baby is sick again. the dr finally admits this is not normal, leaving to you wonder.

and your husband has the same sore throat you do. and the same problems you do. and you wonder who's shoulder you will be able to fall apart on.

and all you wish is for the sun to shine.

that sun would shine and warm you from the outside in because in that moment, it seems like nothing else ever could.

but instead... when you look up there are clouds. grey and heavy. the skies agree with your mood.

and you are forced, to either wallow in the mud that the rain creates, or see the silver lining underneath.

see that you are not alone.

that when you have no other shoulder to cry on, God gives you His.

He reminds you that He provides for you... it may take Him to the last minute, it may still mean you wait anxiously for that next paycheck to come, it may not be the way you want. but He still provides.

He gives you a roof over your head.

2 working eyes, 2 ears, 2 arms, 2 legs. a strong back, sturdy feet, hands that touch and feel and write. he gives you breathe yet again.

and a husband who is alive to feel a sore throat. a husband who works despite his sore throat to provide for you.

a job, while it may not be what you dream, while it may keep you away from home more than you desire... still helps to pay the bills when so many can not say the same.

and He gives you a sweet baby boy with slobbery open mouth kisses and pats on the back.

He gives you far more than most, much more than you deserve, and asks for nothing in return.

It is just so easy to recognize the tiny rain cloud over your own head.

it is so easy to wallow in your own pain. it's so easy to forgot just how blessed you are.

and this day... i choose not to. i choose not to cry. i choose not to be grumpy, or sad, or short tempered. i choose to be grateful. for all that He has given me. so much more that many others. much more than i deserve.

i choose to see that silver lining, that usually i find so easy to ignore.

our family...

2011-10-20T10:04:00.001-05:00

(taken by donna boucher) here is asher the day he was born. this is one of my favorite pictures of him. i love how little he looks. he was not a tiny baby. 7lbs 13oz 21in, but he seemed so little. notice all my bracelets and my iv line. this picture is my natural childbirth dream gone up in smoke. i was still numb from the surgery when this picture was taken. and really itchy, the morphine shot right into my spinal block line made me really itchy... i was sore and tired and sweating. i was glowing. i was on cloud. i was so happy to have him safe in my arms. for hours we looked at him and held him, running on adrenaline and love. i didn't know then what was to come.

i loved laying with him after nursing in our lazy weeks at home after birth. to me this was perfect.

my little bear last halloween. he swung in his swing while he passed out candy.

we bundled him up while we went about our daily chores, working in the yard, and raking leaves. we didn't mind him making life a little more difficult. he was worth it.

he made funny faces whenver we tried to get a good picture.

sometimes he looked like dom deluise.

he loved being outside. we watched fireworks, and he was wowed.

he started eating people food, and loved corn on the cob.

and then he turned one. (i know this picture is blury, but i love the look on his face).

we went to the zoo. (this picture looks nothing like him, isn't it funny how pictures can do that sometimes) and ate fish and chips. he didn't know this day was a milestone. he didn't care... but we sure did.

my life turned into his life. babies do that. it's what they call family. i would rather be with my family than anywhere else on earth. he would rather with his bear-bear and his pooh-pooh than anywhere else on earth.

sometimes he screamed and cried and threw fits... we were confused and didn't know what to do. but, in time we learned.

my boys were not always amuzed with my my desire to document our life. but someday they will thank me that they have millions of pictures of us throughout our life.

we thought we were teaching him. but he was teaching us. about growing, about love, about life.

we were no longer two. we were three. we were no longer a couple. we were a family. our lives changed. drastically. we had to be home by 7:30, so he could go to sleep. going out was nearly an impossibility. we missed our friends, we missed our lives. but this new life was something extraordinary. we learned, and we loved.

when i look at him now, it is unbelievable to believe that 14 months ago he was that tiny boy of wonder so tiny and so new. how he has changed, how life has changed, how we have changed. our life is new. our life is full. our life is not what we expected it to be. our dreams of keeping life the same, our dreams of a perfect house and perfect jobs, have changed. our dreams are now to keep the clutter off the counter enough to make dinner each night. our dreams are to sleep in past 7 on the weekends, trying to keep the baby up late on friday night. our dreams are to be family. a family full of love and life. our dreams are to watch asher grow, to not miss a day, a moment. our dreams are to see who he becomes, praying we can do him right. our dreams are for happiness, and the ability to pay bills, and a future together long and true. our dreams are just to be. to be a family.

"The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together."

Erma Bombeck

"The happiest moments of my life have been the few which I have passed at home in the bosom of my family."

Thomas Jefferson

"What greater thing is there for human souls than to feel that they are joined for life - to be with each other in silent unspeakable memories."

George Eliot

"Other things may change us, but we start and end with the family."

Anthony Brandt

dear grandpa...

2011-10-11T07:50:00.003-05:00

may 8, 2010
grandpa and me

grandpa,

i am not sure if you can read this. and if you can, i am not sure you can understand. but i am going to write to you like it is the old days, like nothing has changed. it is the only thing i know how to do right now. to write to you like this isn't happening. to write to you like i wish i would have more. to write to you like you were always so diligent in doing to me.

do you know i love you grandpa? i feel it every moment of every day, but i don't always say it. i love you grandpa. more than the sun and stars and the earth, i love you grandpa. i love your bald head, and your laugh, and your black socks and sandals.  i love the way your eyes light up when you see your grandkids, your great grandkids. i love how hard you work, how strong you hug, how you always drive the dumpy car and let grandma drive the nice one. i love the way you love Christ. i love the way you love me. i love you grandpa forever and always, no matter where you are.

do you remember how you used to take us to the park to play, or to the hill to sled in the snow? when mom and grandma were too busy, you always had the time. to take us to the pool at cimmaron, to take us to the ball field, to take us to the park to run and swing. i am sure it is because of you that in kindergarten when kevin was asked what he wanted to be when he grew up; he said he wanted to be a dad and take his kids to the park everyday. thank you grandpa, for taking time out of your busy day to sit outside with us. thank you for sacrificing your own time to make time for us.

i am sorry we kept you up every christmas eve, keeping you from sleep all those years. i am sorry you had to come down into the basement in your underwear to yell at us to pipe down so many times. and i am sorry for giggling again the second you shut the door. thank you for letting us continue to come, thank you for inviting us again.

as a little girl i remember rifiling through your desk, counting your hundreds of pens. we were always wanting to buy you new pens, to add to your collection. and when we did, you thanked us whole heartedly. we loved to play with your label maker, until we ran it out of ticker tape. you would get a little mad, but it would quickly pass. did you know that i love label makers to this day? that making a label puts a heart in my song. did you know i obsess over new pens, and to make my day, all it takes is a notebook and a new pack of pens? it dates back to the days of playing in your desk, it's because it brings me memories of you.

i used to think you were king of the world, running the church library. how proud i was of you. "my grandpa is the librarian, you know?" i would say, as if labeling and knowledge of the dewey decimal system made you the most important man in the world.  seeing you with a book always in your hand. reading your recomendations, and telling you about the stories i read. watching you helped me love reading. and reading made me want to write. you always read along with me, and read what i wrote. and you enouraged me. you and grandma both. helped shape such a big part of me. thank you grandpa.  thank you for reading, and trips to the library, and for encouraging me to read. thank you for reading those silly stories and poetry i wrote as a child, and for encouraging and believing in me. i used to dream of owning a bookstore with you. there could not be a more ideal setting, you and me and a room full of books. everything would be just as it should be.

i used to be afraid of you. did you know that grandpa? i was. when i was a little bitty girl and we didn't live 3 streets over; to me you seemed like a big, mean, giant, hovering over me without a smile for anyone. as a child your dry sense of humor, your seriousness, your large demeanor, was very intimidating. as i grew i saw the smile behind your straight lips and furrowed eyes. as i grew, i saw a rough exterior, leathered from years of work and a life harder than most, hiding a beautiful soul, a gentle soul, a true gentle giant of a man. a gentle giant of a man i couldn't have been happier to have as my grandpa.

whenever i see a beautiful vegetable garden, i think about you grandpa.  whenever i see a mailman, or an army uniform, or a grandpa loving his grandchild, i think of you grandpa. the yankees, the rockies, the broncos, anything to do with the state of oklahoma, they all make me think of you.  everytime i hear O Holy Night, or see a woman with her thong hanging out the top of her jeans. a sledding hill, or a tornado cloud near a little league baseball field. postcards, and pens, and label makers, they all make me think of you.

i am so glad asher got to meet you, so glad he got to sit in your lap. someday when we are reminiscing, when we are talking about how much we miss you, and how awesome you are, when we are telling him how wonderful his great grandpa was, i can tell him, "you met him asher, he held you on his lap and told you he loved you. he looked at you like you were a wonder to see." i wish so bad that he could be with you grandpa. i wish he could learn from you. i wish you could watch him grow.

you have helped shape me into who i am today. with every rose given to me after a play or concert or volleyball game, you grew my self esteem.   with every compliment, and time you told me i was beautiful, i grew stronger and more able. your love and support meant the world to me.

thank you for every letter, every postcard, every card, every piece of sent mail. i've saved every one, i will cherish them for as long as i live, and after that my children will cherish them, reading about your life. i'm sorry i didn't return it grandpa, i know you wanted to hear from me. i know you know i love you, but know i'm sorry too. i love you, and if i could do it again, i would reply to every piece of mail i received.

i am sorry i had to move away grandpa. i am sorry i left you there. i am sorry i don't get to see you everyday anymore. i am sorry i wasn't there when the doctors said the word most dreaded by everyone in humanity. i am sorry i wasn't there to take you to your appointments, or to sit with you at home. i am sorry i wasn't there to help grandma through this time, though she tries to keep a straight face, i know she could use the help.  i am sorry i am so far away. maybe more for me, than for you. i will always wish i could have spent more time with you. i will always wish that i could have been there with you. because, i know i am missing out on moments with one of the greatest men i have ever known. i know that my husband, and my baby, will never know you like i do. and i will always wish that they did. he's so much like you grandpa. they say that daughters marry men like thier daddy's. and my momma sure did. and then i did. i am so glad i did. he is strong and a hard worker, just like you. he is calm and centered and sure, just like you. he loves sports like you, and would like to sit alone and watch the game. he saves his words, he's quiet, like you. he hides behind a straight face, but his eyes glow with happiness just like yours do. he loves Jesus like you. he is stubborn, just like you. he doens't tell stories like you. don't tell matthew, but i wish he did. i could listen to you tell stories forever, matthew is nowhere near as good as you. ;)

grandpa, you've worked hard. you've fought hard. every single day of your life. you don't have to keep working, you don't have to keep fighting. you're tired. you don't have to keep taking care of us. we have learned form you, we can take care of the family. don't keep fighting for us. for once think about what is best for you, what will bring you peace and joy. where you're headed, grandpa... it will be beautiful. you will see Jesus' face. and He will look at you, and He will say, "you were not perfect, you made mistakes. but to you I can say, 'well done, my good and faithful servant.'" how i wish i could see your face, as you fall on your knees and hear the angels rejoicing. and you will join them in singing;

"Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
With all our hearts we praise His holy name.
Christ is the Lord! Then ever, ever praise we,
His power and glory ever more proclaim!
His power and glory ever more proclaim!"
~O Holy Night

and you will feel no more pain. you won't have to work or fight again. you can lay down at the feet of Jesus, and praise Him. oh grandpa, what joy you will feel.

and we will miss you. i will miss you. i will miss kisisng your bald head. i will miss seeing you light up. i will miss your stories. i will miss your laugh. i will walk to the mailbox everyday, still wondering if there will be a postcard inside from you. and i will let a tear fall down my cheek, when i remember there will never be again. we will miss you everyday. but you have left a legacy here on this earth. you have left 7 children, and dozens of family members with a legacy that is worth talking about, worth passing, worth living for. we will have hope, grandpa. we will rejoice in knowing that you are singing with the angels, that you are in no more pain. we will rejoice knowing that one day, someday, we will see you again.

i love you grandpa.  forever.

always,
your minders

march 2011
grandpa, asher, molly, levi, max

my husband...

2011-10-05T10:52:00.000-05:00

my husband.

loves his little boy. he plays with him and wrestles with him. he reads books to him, and always dresses him nicer than i do. when he cries in the night, it is always matthew who first suggests that we just bring him to bed with us.

i could watch them together forever. and i will, for as long as God gives me. there is something indescribable about watching the man you love, love your child. that child that you created together. that child that has his hair, and his toes, and the same ornery glint in his eyes. to watch the adoration in your child's eyes as they hug, and the look on his face when he's laughing at daddy... he doesn't laugh like that for anyone else.

matthew has been watching asher all weekend while i have been in class. and while asher is excited to see me when i get home, it is only for a moment, he loves playing with his daddy the most. he takes him to the park, and feeds him grilled cheese and doesn't make him eat his veggies. he lets him drink all the milk he wants. i know asher loves his days with his daddy.

before bedtime, it's matthew asher wants to hold him. he lays his little head on his chest and is suddenly comfortable and safe enough to close his eyes.

when asher came along, it was matthew who suggested we cancel cable. it was an expense we couldn't really afford, and it would give us more time to do things as a family. i was happy to oblige. the previous matthew i knew would never give up sports watching to be a family. this new matthew, this new daddy matthew would. i was seeing him in a new light. he was different as a dad than he was as a husband. when football season arrived, i expected him to dash off to the bar on sundays. he instead stayed home with us. he chooses us almost every time. his obsession with sports faded a little. he allowed it to take a backseat to his larger desires. his desire to be a dad, to be a family.

i have loved watching matthew grow in the last year. i have loved growing with him.

these past few weeks have been hard... me taking classes again is a sacrifice, not just for me, but for asher and for matthew too. and we know it will continue to be a sacrifice. and we get frustrated and angry and say things we don't mean. but in the end, we lay in each others arms and soak up the moments we have together. in the end we remember that in the long run, this is best thing.

without his support i couldn't do this. without his encouragement i would fail. if i didn't know how much he loved his boy, how well he takes care of him, i would never have taken the leap. and it is because of him i will succeed.

my husband, asher's daddy.

the san francisco treat... ding ding...

2011-09-30T13:26:00.000-05:00

The Lindbergh Line, San Francisco, California
by Kerne Erickson

matthew's brother and his girlfriend (not matthews girlfriend, patricks girlfriend) live in the san francisco bay area.

they have been there for several years, and we had planned to take the time to go see them in 2010. i got pregnant instead. so...

this year we are going to try our darnedest to make it to california. i have never been. matthew hasn't been since he was just a wee thing. we would love to see patrick and shelby.  and the city. and napa. we would love to take a real vacation. we took a real vacation once. on our honeymoon. we drove to san antonio and stayed in 4 star hotel on the river walk. it was lovely. we would like to take another vacation someday before we die. in fact, we would like to take a vacation every year until we die.

the thing is, we are kind of poor. poor people don't take vacations for a reason. there ain't no money, honey.  we are thrifty. i think we can make it happen. with all of your help, of course!

we want to experience the bay area at it's fullest. we want to experience the culture and atmosphere of the area. we want to eat good food.  we want to do fun things. we also have a baby boy now, who might want to do some kid things. we like the outdoors. we like food (did i mention that already?). we like booze. we want to see napa, and the big trees, and alcatraz. i like art, matthew likes sports, we both like food (did i mention that already?) we want to see lombard st, and the parrots of telegraph hill (well actually just telegraph hill would be enough for me) we want to spend time at fishermans wharf. we ant to see the beach, and of course the golden gate bridge. we want to experience life there. and we want to do it for close to free.

so i need to know... give me all your advice about traveling inexpensively. give me all your advice about traveling with young children.

anyone live in the bay area? anyone visit there? how about napa? anywhere else close by we should go? i want to know what things we should not miss, what things are overrated. i want to know what things we can do for free. i want to know good cheap places to eat, and good cheap places to go.

help matthew and asher and i take a real vacation. help us out and myabe, just maybe, someday soon you will see one of these in your mailbox...

motherly misconceptions...

2011-09-27T13:32:00.002-05:00

there is a stigma about stay at home moms.

there is a stigma about working moms.

seriously... what are mom's supposed to do? we're damned if we do, damned if we don't.

our harshest critics are nearly always other moms, other soon to be moms, other wish i were moms, other i could make a better moms. i guess it's true what they say, "it's a dog eat dog world." i am sick of seeing the judgements on both sides. we should be each others most diligent supporters, no matter the difference in opinion about how we raise our children.

i am a working mother. i am a working mother who wishes so badly that i could be a stay at home mom. i am stuck in the middle. i hate hearing the misconceptions from both sides about the other... today i am going to tackle some misconceptions about working mothers.

well meaning women are constantly giving me, what they think is encouragement or advice, about becoming a stay at home mother. things like studies they have read about how much it really costs for you to work, about how children of stay at home moms are more likely to succeed at school, about how it didn't make sense for them to return work assuming it wouldn't make sense for us either. i know they are trying to be an encouragement, a source of knowledge, they are not meaning to be hurtful.

please, please, please keep your comments and opinions to yourself. please don't tell working mothers that all their hard work is futile. do not say anything even close it. these women are sacrificing a lot, to do what they believe is the best for their family. and they probably already beat themselves up for it on a daily basis. your well meaning comments, are hurting them more than you believe.  most of them are wracked with guilt over leaving their children to go to a job (that they love or hate) everyday. do not assume they haven't worked over the numbers. do not assume you know what they should do, or what they are doing. every family is different, and every family is trying to do what is best.  it may be a sacrifice for you to stay at home, and it most definitely is a sacrifice for her to go to work.

i have ran into many, many, many, people who believe that the cost of a working mother (childcare, transportation, eating out, tax benefits vs increased tax brackets) proves that it makes no sense for a mother to work. this in some cases may be true. this more often than not is false. it might be true if you have a job in retail or make minimum wage, it is definitely not true for us.

people really believe that by making "small cuts in your budget" you can afford to have a stay at home parent. people tell me that all the time. "it's hard, we make sacrifices, but we do it so i can stay home" guess what? it's hard for us, we make sacrifices, and i still have to work. we clip coupons. we have super cheap pre-paid cell phone plans. we do not have cable. we have the same old, on the last leg, cars that we have driven for years. we do not get new clothes until our old ones are worn with holes and faded, and when we do we don't get name brands. all of ashers toys and clothes have been gifted to us or consignment and garage sale finds. we don't get to eat steak. we rarely go out to eat (papa murphy's and dollar menu mcdonald's do sneak their way into our house sometimes). we have had 4 date nights since asher was born. i do not work so we can live a lavish life. i work so we can survive. we scrimp and scrape and sacrifice just so we can survive.

the average income of a person age 25 and above in the united states is $32140 (in 2005). even if the cost of working nears $15000 a year, to make up for it you would have to cut $17140 from your annual budget to break out even. that is almost $1450 a month. i don't know anyone who can cut $1450 a month from their budget. make the cost of working jump to $20000 a year (or almost $1675 a month), and that would still make you have to cut over $1000 a month to break back to the same even amount of 2 incomes. not doable for most people.

i often hear stay at home mom's griping about all the work they have to do, and how nice it would be to be able to afford the extra help, assuming working mothers can. it is true that some working mothers can afford a nanny, a cook, or someone to clean their house. sure wish i was one of them, that would be a great help! but i do not know many of these working moms. a working mom has all the same jobs a stay at home mom does. we still have to cook, and clean, and do laundry. we do yard work, and care for pets. we have to pay bills, and budget, and grocery shop. we have to drag the kids around, and schedule their activities. we have to discipline our kids, and wish we had more time to play with them. we have to do it all too. we have to do it all, before and after working 8 hours, being out of the house for 10 hours a day. really... it's a wonder working mothers have time to sleep.

some people assume that working mothers must be status driven, power hungry, workaholics; they are people who spend all their time working. some might be. but some are working jobs they marginally like, or even hate, just so they can afford the gift of having a family. to assume that they are all hungry for work, rather than their family is a doing a disservice to mothers everywhere. and working mothers may spend all their time working; working, or taking care of their family. but that is not because it all they want to do. most working mothers have dreams and aspirations outside of work and family. most working mothers have hobbies and things they like to do. they would love to have the time to be crafty, or write a novel, or go garage saleing. working moms want to learn cook gourmet meals, and do things homemade and organic. they want to go to the movies, and read books, and have date nights, and girls nights and days at the zoo. the thing is... after working 8 hours a day, doing the daily chores, and taking care of their children; there is little time left to do things they want to do. dreams and hobbies and plans out have to be pushed aside, for the greater good of their family. it is not that they only love work, it is that work is the only thing they have time for. and since when is wanting to be good at something, wanting to do your best at something, a bad thing? a working mom may want to succeed at her job, she may work hard at their job everyday. and she should. her children should see that she is working hard, and that she is doing the best she can. then they will learn to do the same. the majority of her day is spent at work, and she should want to succeed at it, she should want to better her work life. in doing so, she may better her life enough that eventually she can stay home.  doing the best you are able is not a bad thing.

others think that working mothers must not care about the well being of their families. why else would they desert their jobs as a wife and mother to go do another job? i assure you, there is not a working mother in existence who doesn't love their family, who doesn't believe they are doing what is the best for their family. whatever the reason is, even if the reason is so their children can wear brand name clothes and have more opportunities (whether you feel that is right or not); that is what they believe is the best thing for their family. parents do not willingly enter into the world, or into the workforce trying to do their family harm. they do whatever it is they think will give their family the best outcome. and sometimes that outcome is having 2 working parents. i have met plenty of children and adults who have come from both situations. guess what? there are messed up people in both categories.  2 working parent families, stay at home parent families, they both raise great outstanding children who can succeed in the world.  they also both produce children who fail miserably and struggle for a lifetime. do not make people think they are doing their children a disservice. they are doing the best they can, same as you, and both of you may produce successes or failures.

which leads to me another point. people think that someday, your children will grow older and resent you for leaving them in the care for someone else. that working will eventually ruin your parent-child bond.  you know what i think after working with children, adolescents, and adults at various stages in my own life?... i think that no matter what you do, your children will find some reason at sometime in their life to resent you. the stay at home moms will be resented just as much as the working moms, but for different reasons.


i know that being a stay at home mom is a fulltime job. i understand that completely, and i wish it could be my fulltime job. being a mom is work, hard work, it is draining. you are on the job 24 hours a day for the rest of your life, no matter what you do. i truly believe that being a working mom is the hardest job in the world. they are essentially working 2 fulltime jobs, and are being ridiculed for it along the way. they feel guilty, and sad that they can't be with their children, but the belief that they are doing the best thing keeps them going. please be careful with your interactions with working moms. they are just as fragile as you are, maybe even more so, about the delicate tissue that is their family.

Supper Mom
Gary Patterson

and sometime soon i'll share what i think about stay at home moms and all the misconceptions they are faced with as well... i am an advocate for both. do me a favor this week... support one another, love one another, whether you agree or not. we should be each others greatest support, not the harshest critic.

longing...

2011-09-22T13:18:00.000-05:00

early morning september 3rd (really early morning, like still middle of the night kind of early morning), asher woke up screaming bloody murder. i jumped up and into his room to hand him a fresh paci, pat his back, and gently place his head back onto his pillow. when i went to the bathroom before heading back to my own bed, i saw a little blinking light on my phone. i had a new text message. it was from my cousin jennifer. sweet jennifer. sister of my heart.

her baby girl was due september 4th, on her own birthday. just a a year a 4 days after asher had arrived. i knew she was feeling exactly how i had felt a year before, and it made me wish i was there with her all the more. and i knew when i saw her name, what the text would say. and i was right. her sweet baby girl had arrived. the day before on september 2nd (our wonderful grandpa's birthday, we were so glad she will get to share his special day), so fast they almost didn't make it to the hospital. that sweet baby girl, yet unnamed, was in her mamas arms feeling the love of the outside world and her mama and daddy and big brother and sister. and i wept.

i wept all morning. i was so happy she was here. i was so happy she was loved. i wanted so badly to hold her. i wanted to hold that sweet baby girl, and kiss her head, and tell her i would always love her. i wanted to squeeze jen's hand and tell her i love her and how proud of her i am. i wanted to be there... not here. and i wept. i had a birthday party planned the next day, i had company arriving in a few hours. i had cleaning and cooking and sleeping still to do. what i wanted to do was jump in my car with my asher boy and not turn around, i wanted to head west stopping only when i had to, so in 8 hours i could hold that sweet baby girl, and hug my sweet cousin. instead i cried silent tears for hours while i scrubbed the floors and stirred the pots.

when i couldn't take it anymore i texted jennifer something like this: "jennifer, i love you so much. and i wish i was there. it just seems so wrong for me not to be there when life changes like this. give that baby a hug and a kiss. i miss you and love you forever." and then i wailed! she wrote me back quickly, something like this: "i will, and i know how you feel, i felt the exact same a year ago when asher was born. i love you."

and that's just how it is. she is my family, the one i spent my lonely valentines days with, the one who i went shopping with unshowered and dressed in pjs. she was the one i watched zoolander with a hundred times, and with whom i ate myself sick on cherries garcia. and she is a person, whom i wish everyday i was closer to, and sharing in everyday life. and she is the person i want there when important things happen. and i want to be there for her when important things happen. and when that can't happen... i do what i do best. i cry. i cry big tears, and let the snot drip unashamed from nose. i wish and hope and pray. i send my love...

and then i pull myself back together... because this is life now. and life must continue. and it did. and it continues to.

i continue to miss her. and her beautiful girls. and all of her totally sweet and adorable family.

know jennifer, i pray for you everyday. with every picture you post of your life, know that i wish i was there. know that i love you guys so much and miss you more than you can know.

dear sweet stella marilyn,

i love you punkin'. even if it is another year before i meet you, i love you. and i will always love you. because you are your mama's. a product she made herself, with her own love and her own body, she made you, and she loves you, and because of that... i do to. you are blessed beyond words little stella, with a mommy who loves you so much, and will do anything for you. i know she will, because i am not her own, and i know she would do anything for me. she will teach you, and be silly with you. sometimes she will have to punish you, it will hurt her to do so, but she will do it because she always wants the best for you. she loves your daddy. and together they will remain, and together they will always love you. your daddy works hard for you, and he always will, like all good daddy's do. he will watch over you, and play with you, he will do anything for you. stella bean, you are so blessed with something your mom and i never had; a sister. and layla will be the best big sister she knows how to be. love your sister. help her when she needs it, and listen to her advice, she has been there before. learn to be silly from her, learn to laugh with her, learn to love each other and never let the other go. a sister is a blessing that some people never get. you have an older brother who will always love you, want to protect you, he will look after you. he will teach you a lot about life if you let him. love him. let him help you, allow him to protect you from harm. now know sweet stella girl that you are here for a purpose, far more than we can know. God put you in this world for a reason, right now, in His perfect time. know, He died for you. know that when everyone else leaves you, when you feel so alone, He will still be there. He loves you the most of anyone. trust in Him, lean on Him, search for Him. talk to Him, tell others about Him, love other like He would. and please know, sweet girl, that i love you. no matter how far away i am. know, that i wish i could be there for all of your important milestones, and for you everyday. know that i will miss you always. know that there is nothing you could do that will ever stop me from loving you. be happy, find joy, feel free to be yourself. love, and be loved. live life.

love always,
your melinda sue

oodles of fun...

2011-09-21T17:42:00.001-05:00

other places you can find me:

did you know you can find me on twitter? you can!

@melindasue

i was very skeptical of twitter to begin with. i started and quit a couple times before it clicked. now, i happen to find twitter super fun. i don't follow a lot of celebrities, i don't have much important to say... but you can hop on over there and follow me, and get more updates there than you can get here. 140 characters at a time is easier to keep up than a whole blog. and i also tweet the occasional picture of my most precious baby boy.

i have been wasting hours of my days over on pinterest.

here are my boards.

if you have not been over to pinterest yet... you really must. it is the absolute best way to waste time on the internet.

if you don't know what it is; it is a sort of virtual 'pinboard'. if you see something you love while searching the internet, you can 'pin it' to a pin board. you can create any boards you want. really like chickens? you can pin all your chicken love to one board. have a hankerin for bacon? you can pin all your favorite bacon recipes to one board. you can follow friends or strangers and see what they are pinning, you can also view the most popular pins that anyone is pinning on pinterest.

i have found great recipes, design ideas, and lusted after many fashions i could not even come close to squeezing my butt into. i have found inspiring words, funny posters, and lots of good housekeeping tips.

seriously, i can get lost in pinterest for hours. it is the funnest thing i do on the internet. so head on over and sign up! follow me, and let the pinning fun begin!

where you lay your head...

2011-09-20T15:53:00.000-05:00

sometimes i look at where i am today, and i wonder how i got here. a series of choices, decisions made. some were inspired, some were desperate, all were made with well intentions.

is this where i want to be? a wife and mother. yes. a back to college working mother. kind of. working a fulltime job in an office without a view. no. in omaha, ne. no. poor and barely making ends meet. obviously no. living in the suburbs. somedays. is it what i envisioned life to be? maybe. i have envisioned life a million ways, and this i suppose was one of them. however, in the dream i am driving a cadillac, and don't have to work. in the dream things are easier.

but life isn't a dream. it's real. real life is messy and hard and confusing. in dreams everything is easy and make sense.

i have dreamed of living in romania, serving just like i did all those years ago. when i think about it, i die a little inside, i know i must have missed my call.

i have dreamed of living in the big city, paris or new york. i am a bustling business woman, svelte and on edge, giving it all to have it all. when i think about it, i wonder if that could really be me.

i have dreamed of being an artist, single, starving, a little sad. i think about this, and remember i have no artistic ability, and know this can only remain a dream.

a writer taking weeks away from regular life to travel to maui where i can flit out novels and essays and articles and poetry at an incredibly rapid rate... my ability takes full force in the perfect tropical air.

a singer, a hair stylist, an interior designer, a teacher, a servant, a missionary. single and looking, single and not looking, married unhappily, married full of passion. childless, a dozen children. a have dreamed my life a million different ways.

but this is where i am. here. in omaha. a working fulltime, mother, wife, and student. trying to decide where i belong... and while i decide, i am happy this is where i lay my head. this is the life i chose. this is where God has brought me now.

and so, i love my life where i am. in the suburbs of omaha, ne.  as a working mother and wife and student, wondering how others in my place can keep it all together.

God did not call me to Romania, or anywhere else overseas. He did not want me in paris or new york city. He did not want me anywhere but where I am now. He did not make me a writer, or an artist, or a business woman. He made me who I am. He did not desire me to be serving oversees, or in the inner city.  He desires me to serve right where i lay my head. He asks me to serve my husband. He desires me to love my son. He tells me to love my neighbors. He rejoices when i do His will.

when He asks us to go into all the nations he did not just mean to go. sometimes going into all nations, is staying exactly where we are. if everyone was going, who would stay. if everyone left the country to serve the lost and poor and Jesus needing in other countries, who would serve the same here? if everyone left the suburbs to serve the lost and poor and Jesus needing in the inner city, who would serve the same here? There are lost and hurting and poor and Jesus needing people everywhere. in your city, in your neighborhood, in your own home.  being a missionary is not just reserved to those overseas, or in the city, or those raising support to do fulltime. Jesus asks me to love and serve. and i can do that right were I am.

i am a wife, and a mother, and a worker, and a student. i am also an ambassador for Jesus Christ. i am a missionary right where i am, in the suburbs of omaha. i can love, i can serve. i am called to do so.

and no matter how i dreamed life, no matter where i could be... that would not change. i would still be called to love and to serve. the loving and the serving would just take on a different scope. it doesn't matter that my life is messy, and hard, and confusing. that is life, if i had the dream, it wouldn't be the dream... it would also be messy, and hard, and confusing.

here, i can love and serve my husband. i fail at this everyday. i can bring up my son in the promises of the word. i can serve and love my neighbors. i can anticipate needs, and try to meet them.  i can be the smile and encouragement someone needs. i can be Jesus, right where i am.

this series of choices and decisions made, brought me right here, right now, for a reason. for such a time as this.

i am happy where i am. i love where i am. no matter how different from the dream it might be. because this real life gave me matthew, it have me asher, it gives me love and peace and accomplishment.  and i am going to try to be that missionary... right here where i lay my head.

crock pot fun...

2011-09-15T13:37:00.000-05:00

i grew up in a home with 2 working parents.

my mom stayed home until my brother started school fulltime, and then we were latchkey kids. somedays we would play at grandmas after school, somedays we went home to fend for ourselves.

as the big sister i was in charge (i am always in charge, whether i am the big sister in the situation or not) i took care of jesse after school every day. until he became that annoying age of know it all in insecurities... then he kind of did what he wanted while i yelled at him to do what he was supposed to be doing.

i remember mom being a stay at home, jesse does not really. i remember her baking her own bread and hand making spaghetti noodles. i remember days of baking and freezing and cooking and working. i remember lots of homemade meals.

jesse remembers subway sandwiches and wendy's 99c menu. the gigantic size of my butt at that time remembers that also.

we both remember crock pot meals. mostly roasts. throw a cut of meat in the crock pot with spices and potatoes and veggies, and you have a complete meal that you hardly had to think about. my mom used her crock pot a lot. stews and soups and chili and roasts.

now as a working mom myself... i am realizing the importance of a crock pot in the kitchen. it may not make award winning meals. i may not get a golden chef hat for my cooking... but my family will at least be eating home cooked meals rather than from the 99c menu and freezer section.

the thing is... i don't have many crock pot recipes. my husband is not a huge fan of one-pot kind of meals. he eats nothing creamy (no mayo, no cream cheese, no sour cream, no cream, no cream of anything soup) he eats some veggies, but nothing all veggie. no mushrooms. this eliminates a lot in the world of crock pot. (although some items can be substituted in recipes, and meat can always be added.)

i can make a mean chili. i can make a basic roast (meat, spices, veggies, cook). i can make both bbq pork and italian beef sandwiches. beyond that... i have tried chicken noodle soup a couple times and the occasional stew... but i want some real good, real food, home made meals i can make in a crock pot.

that's where you come in! if you have a link to a site with lots of good gourmet crock pot meals, or have a tried and true crock pot recipe... i want it.

it may not be a culinary cuisine, it may not be a gourmet meal... but at this stage in my life right now... we will settle for homemade. we will settle for better than frozen pizza.

catch-up

2011-09-13T12:16:00.000-05:00

thank you for all your love and support and kind comments!

i survived my first weekend of class.

i am not the oldest person in class, i am not the only working mother, i didn't snicker at anyone else, and nobody snickered at me. some did snicker at the teacher, which in my second time around at college i find terribly immature and slightly offensive. i quickly distanced myself from those people.

i got a 96.6% on my tests on sunday. i feel like i am cramming a lot of stuff into my head at once. i was exhausted saturday night, and couldn't wait to change into sweats and sit on the couch with my buddy's on sunday night.

the middle of the night sunday i started feeling... yuck. i spent the next 18 hours racing to the bathroom for various reasons (aren't you glad you read my blog and get to hear all the disgusting details of my life?) asher had a dr appontment monday that we would obviously not make... it appears this switching from formula and bottle to milk and cup is not that easy. he hates milk (but will drink all the water and iced tea he can get his hands on) and developed thrush. the dr was sceptical over the phone, but called in a prescriptionanyway, since i was obviously in no state to take him in. my sweet mama made the long drive into town again to help take care of me and asher.

i wondered how single moms do it. any of it. school, work, daycare, being ill; i could not do this on my own. i am so grateful for my husband and my family. today and always.

and i will be really glad when this 6 weeks is over...

first day of school jitters...

2011-09-08T12:39:00.001-05:00

my school bag is all packed.

it is waiting by the front door.

directions are printed, and my last purchase i needed to make for class was made this morning.

physically i am ready for class.

emotionally, i feel exactly as i did the first day of high school. scared, alone, and kind of sick to my stomach.

saturday my sweet mama will come watch asher while matthew works so i can head out to my first day of class.

i wonder if i will be the oldest girl in class. i wonder if the other kids will snicker and whisper, as i did at the older ladies in class my first time around.

i wonder if i will be smart enough. i wonder if i can still learn, or if the age old saying is true... "you can't teach an old dog new tricks"

i will miss playing with asher and watching football on the couch matthew.

i will have to put on real clothes and do my hair and make-up, something i am not accustomed to doing on the weekends.

it will be hard. for 4 weeks i will be gone from 7-6 on both saturday and sunday sitting in class. then for 2 more weeks i will be gone from 5-7 both saturday and sunday running around on my feet doing hands on training. i will not have a day off for the next 6 weeks.

i will most surely be tired. i will definitely neglect my chores. i am sure we will eat take out, making money tighter, nerves edgier, and asses growing.

but i chose this.

i choose to go back to school.

i choose to be scared and uncomfortable and feel like an idiot.

i choose this because this is the first step of an accomplished dream.

i choose this because i would want my son to accomplish his own... and someday while i am telling him he can be whoever he wants to be, he can do whatever he wants to do, with work and determination and time he can make his dreams come true. i don't want to hear his voice chime back "why didn't you?"

i choose this because it is what i believe will be best for my family in the near future, even if the short term is hard.

i choose this because if i have to work, i should be happy with what i do.

i choose this because i have an amazing husband who will support me, and family who believes in me.

i choose this because in this, i believe i will find a better me.

so saturday, with all the nervousness in the world, with fear and discomfort, and maybe a few glares, i will take the first step of this journey, i will be in college again.

tail waggin' good time...

2011-09-07T07:56:00.001-05:00

i did not take a single picture of asher's first birthday party.

not a single one.

mom of the year award here.

it was super cute, and i have no pictures to prove it to you.

i thought about redecorating the tables so i could prove it to you.

but that seemed a little excessive.

truth is, i was so busy prepping food, and making cupcakes, that i forgot about the camera. then i was so busy flitting around socializing with all the people i don't always get to see, that i didn't have time to take pictures.

i left the picture taking to the professional, and in turn, have nothing to show you here... you can head on over to my mother in law's blog at http://www.booshay.blogspot.com/ and check out my cutest-ever-in-the-whole-wide-world son, and pictures from the day (also my new short hair, which i am still loving and my husband is still not loving, by the way)... but here i've got nothing.

more later...

keep you safe...

2011-09-01T17:04:00.000-05:00

Quiet your heart
It’s just a dream
Go back to sleep

I’ll be right here
I’ll stay awake as long as you need me
To slay all the dragons
And keep out the monsters
I’m watching over you

My love is a light
Driving away all of your fear
So don’t be afraid
Remember I made a promise to keep you safe

You’ll have your own battles to fight
When you are older
You’ll find yourself frozen inside
But always remember

If you feel alone
Facing the giants
And you don’t know
What to do

My love is a light
Driving away all of your fear
So don’t be afraid
Remember I made a promise to keep you safe

Keep You Safe
JJ Heller

i can not hear this song without weeping. there is not another song in existence that i desire to sing to my little boy more than this one.

click on jj heller's name above to go to her website (for some reason i can not get her website to work for me on iternet explorer, but it does work on mozilla, just an fyi) to hear some of her other music. as a christian, who is not usually a fan of most christian music, i adore her and her sweet hubby making music together.

remind me...

2011-08-31T09:59:00.001-05:00

i have been facing this day with emotions so varied. new and unexpected...

i am so thrilled that my baby boy is turning one. i am so excited to give him his presents, and sing to him, and leave work early to escape for some birthday fun. i expected these emotions.

i am a little weepy. my baby boy has hit a very important mark. today he is one. his baby days are behind him, his toddler days are ahead of him. he will always be my baby boy, but today it feels he is a very big boy. this i also expected.

what i didn't expect... this flood of emotions and memories and feelings of the moment he was born.

a year ago today, a year ago right now, i had just given in and gotten the epidural, knowing that my 27 hours of labor were most likely heading to a c-section. i was finally able to rest, and didn't feel like i needed to be walking circles around the labor and delivery unit halls. we rested, and prayed, and rested and prayed, that God would intervene and that i could have this baby how we dreamed, knowing what the empending hours held. and a couple hours later, i shook and cried as the dr told me i had still not progressed, and it was time to start thinking about getting the baby out. i just nodded my head, unable to form words, and let the tears flow. matthew kissed my head and tried to be strong, but i saw his clenched jaw and the worry in his eyes. just moments later we were being wheeled off to the operating room whispering prayers into the heavens. and just a few moments after that, amongst the waves of tugs and pulls from behind the sheet, our baby boy was born. i could hear him, i could hear the dr's and the nurses and the oohs and aahs. and then they were holding him... in front of me to see. and the tears fell gently down my face, my arms stretched out to either side, unable to touch him or hold him or kiss his little head. he was the most beautiful thing i had ever seen. "hi asher" i heard matthew say, choking back tears, and with all the love in the world. the words coming out of my own mouth i don't remember, i only remember what i felt. relief that he was here, and so much love i felt like i would burst.

i recovered slowly, but i did it with a baby in my arms. my love for him kept me going, it keeps me going still. i never knew how he would change me. i never knew my mind would never be still again, always a flutter with thoughts and hopes and prayers for safety and fun and contentment for that precious little boy. i never knew how hard it would be, how aware of my own selfishness i would become. i never knew how a mother felt, until i became one for myself.

and today, i am thinking and feeling and remembering, that day a year ago. it is replaying in my head over and over, like a home movie on repeat. and i wonder if every year on this day, on august 31st, if i will remember what it felt to hold that baby boy for the first time. i wonder if i will think of the instant love that overflowed out of every creak and crack in my body and my soul. i wonder if, on this day, i will always mourn the time we've lost with him, and rejoice in the times to come.

i know for certain, on this day, that i will always remember how he changed our lives, how he changed me, how my dreams have become true. i will always remember, on august 31st, how blessed i am to be mama to asher max. how happy and whole i am because of him on this and every day.

Finding Time...

2011-08-29T17:55:00.003-05:00

i think this is just too good to pas up. read this inspiring article by anne lamott.

Time lost and found
by Anne Lamott

I sometimes teach classes on writing, during which I tell my students every single thing I know about the craft and habit. This takes approximately 45 minutes. I begin with my core belief—and the foundation of almost all wisdom traditions—that there is nothing you can buy, achieve, own, or rent that can fill up that hunger inside for a sense of fulfillment and wonder. But the good news is that creative expression, whether that means writing, dancing, bird-watching, or cooking, can give a person almost everything that he or she has been searching for: enlivenment, peace, meaning, and the incalculable wealth of time spent quietly in beauty.

Then I bring up the bad news: You have to make time to do this.

This means you have to grasp that your manic forms of connectivity—cell phone, email, text, Twitter—steal most chances of lasting connection or amazement. That multitasking can argue a wasted life. That a close friendship is worth more than material success.

Needless to say, this is very distressing for my writing students. They start to explain that they have two kids at home, or five, a stable of horses or a hive of bees, and 40-hour workweeks. Or, on the other hand, sometimes they are climbing the walls with boredom, own nearly nothing, and are looking for work full-time, which is why they can’t make time now to pursue their hearts’ desires. They often add that as soon as they retire, or their last child moves out, or they move to the country, or to the city, or sell the horses, they will. They are absolutely sincere, and they are delusional.

I often remember the story from India of a beggar who sat outside a temple, begging for just enough every day to keep body and soul alive, until the temple elders convinced him to move across the street and sit under a tree. Years of begging and bare subsistence followed until he died. The temple elders decided to bury him beneath his cherished tree, where, after shoveling away a couple of feet of earth, they found a stash of gold coins that he had unknowingly sat on, all those hand-to-mouth years.

You already have the gold coins beneath you, of presence, creativity, intimacy, time for wonder, and nature, and life. Oh, yeah, you say? And where would those rascally coins be?

This is what I say: First of all, no one needs to watch the news every night, unless one is married to the anchor. Otherwise, you are mostly going to learn more than you need to know about where the local fires are, and how rainy it has been: so rainy! That is half an hour, a few days a week, I tell my students. You could commit to writing one page a night, which, over a year, is most of a book.

If they have to get up early for work and can’t stay up late, I ask them if they are willing NOT to do one thing every day, that otherwise they were going to try and cram into their schedule.

They may explain that they have to go to the gym four days a week or they get crazy, to which I reply that that’s fine—no one else really cares if anyone else finally starts to write or volunteers with marine mammals. But how can they not care and let life slip away? Can’t they give up the gym once a week and buy two hours’ worth of fresh, delectable moments? (Here they glance at my butt.)

Can they commit to meeting one close friend for two hours every week, in bookstores, to compare notes? Or at an Audubon sanctuary? Or a winery?

They look at me bitterly now—they don’t think I understand. But I do—I know how addictive busyness and mania are. But I ask them whether, if their children grow up to become adults who spend this one precious life in a spin of multitasking, stress, and achievement, and then work out four times a week, will they be pleased that their kids also pursued this kind of whirlwind life?

If not, if they want much more for their kids, lives well spent in hard work and savoring all that is lovely, why are they living this manic way?

I ask them, is there a eucalyptus grove at the end of their street, or a new exhibit at the art museum? An upcoming minus tide at the beach where the agates and tidepools are, or a great poet coming to the library soon? A pond where you can see so many turtles? A journal to fill?

If so, what manic or compulsive hours will they give up in trade for the equivalent time to write, or meander? Time is not free—that’s why it’s so precious and worth fighting for.

Will they give me one hour of housecleaning in exchange for the poetry reading? Or wash the car just one time a month, for the turtles? No? I understand. But at 80, will they be proud that they spent their lives keeping their houses cleaner than anyone else in the family did, except for mad Aunt Beth, who had the vapors? Or that they kept their car polished to a high sheen that made the neighbors quiver with jealousy? Or worked their fingers to the bone providing a high quality of life, but maybe accidentally forgot to be deeply and truly present for their kids, and now their grandchildren?

I think it’s going to hurt. What fills us is real, sweet, dopey, funny life.

I’ve heard it said that every day you need half an hour of quiet time for yourself, or your Self, unless you’re incredibly busy and stressed, in which case you need an hour. I promise you, it is there. Fight tooth and nail to find time, to make it. It is our true wealth, this moment, this hour, this day.

jep left this article for me in my comments after my last post. when i finally found the time to read it, (at work, after lunch when all has started to slow down, and i have a second to sneak off to that forbidden internet, i sat at my desk and cried sweet tears, big alligator tears running down my face. my coworkers must have believed that i just ended one heck of a customer service nightmare call. but really... it was anne lamotts words. her beautifully written words of truth challenging this girl to her very core.

i have time for lots of things... to work, to watch reruns of cheers. i make plenty of time to shop for shoes online, and facebook stalk old friends. there is always time to gossip with my mom on the phone. but i find it so hard to do what i say i want to do. the truth is, you make time for what you want. and i need to give up that extra episode of cheers, i could stand to give up that extra five minutes it took me to shovel in another helping of potatoes. i need to sacrifice the mundane and what i see as necessary, to relish in teh impossibilities of life. to love the life i live. to make what i dream, come true.

i can not say it better than anne, and so i will not try. just read her words, and let me know what you think.

one small step...

2011-08-26T12:32:00.000-05:00

asher is only a few days shy of 1 year old. and is only a few days shy of walking full throttle on his own.

we have been coercing him in to walking for weeks, and still he takes each tiny step before falling with much fear and trepidation.

his flat fat feet will walk all day as long as he has my fingers wrapped tightly inside his chubby sausage fingers. the second i let go... he will stand still, he will stay where he is, content as can be. but taking that step... no way. you can see him thinking about it, his leg will lift a little, his knees wobble as he desires to come closer to mommy. but he quickly decides to stay where he is. fear is the enemy now.

yesterday i heard myself telling matthew, "if only he would take that first step, he would realize it's not so bad. it's nothing to be scared over..." and i stopped. my sentence hung in my throat, stuck behind the reality of its words. was i talking about asher, or myself. sure i can walk. i do it every day. thousands of steps. but it isn't the physical act of walking i was thinking of anymore.

i am just she same... as my tiny 1 year old baby boy. i am afraid to take that step. fear and trepidation consume me. as long as someone is with me, as long as i have the security. the security of my husband, the familiar, the safe, the known. taking that step into the unknown... is scary. taking that first step is so so hard. but asher and me, we are the same.

we both have to shake that fear to take that step.

only if he takes that step, will he know the pleasure and joy there is in walking. oh the places he can go, the things he can see, the opportunities he will have... but only if he takes that step. sure he will fall. sure it will hurt. but he will get up again. it may take a long while for the fear to cease. but it will. and when it does, he will be a whole new him. not a tiny baby boy anymore. a great big walking boy with the whole world in front of him. running, and soccer, and baseball, and riding bikes. stairs and climbing and hide and go seek. but only if he takes that first step.

only if i take that step, will i see what God has in store for me. only if i take that step, will i know what i can accomplish, will i be able to see my goals set out in front of me. i have to ignore the voices of doubt and deceit. i have to be willing to accept the fact that this may hurt, and i may fail. i have to be willing to move despite the fear. take that step in the face of doubt. i know, if i don't take that step, i will just stay stuck where i am today. stuck in the sticky, stinky, ugly, mud i am standing in today. so... i will take that first step.

because i know, the best thing for both asher and me... is to keep moving. is to take the first tiny step.

so asher and i will hold onto each other, and find strength and courage in each other, to take that first step... him to literally take the FIRST STEP. and me, to take that college class, even if i am the oldest one in the class, even if it bores me to tears, and even if it is so hard it makes me feel like an inadequate lump... because i know both asher and i's lives will be better, if only we take that first tiny step.

in which i return to blogging (again)... with much shorter hair.

2011-08-23T13:42:00.002-05:00

let me be really frank with you... well, let me be melinda, but i'm going to say something in a really "frank" matter...

BEING A MOM IS REALLY F-ING HARD! people don't always tell you that. but it is. or maybe it is just me.. i am finding motherhood very hard. loving asher, i find easy. the easiest thing in the world. caring for him, if it was my only job, i would find easy, the easiest thing in the world. but it is not. i am also a wife, and a daughter, and a sister, and a friend (not always a good one, but one just the same.) i am a wife and mother who has to work full time to pay for the simple life we live. i find this very hard. i find it hard to leave my baby boy everyday, knowing my time with him is fleeting. i find it hard to stop playing with him and clean the house, i find it hard to make dinner. i find it really hard to make the bed and put away the laundry. i find it hard to find time. i find it hard to read, to write, to take walks. i find this very hard. this balancing life.

i still find it hard to look down, and see my empty belly, where a 30 week old baby should be. i have found recovering from a miscarriage very hard, harder than some, much harder than most. i find it hard to live my life of busy-ness, knowing my baby is not living at all.

and so... for a short while, i quit. i quit living. i mean i was still breathing. i was still getting up and going to work and coming home. but that was all i was doing. breathing. in and out. on repeat. sometimes i found that a struggle. it was a struggle to move my legs to dangle off the bed in the morning. it was a struggle to walk those few steps to asher's room shrill with screams and crying. and then i would see his face light up when he saw me, and for a moment... i could feel. for a moment i could see light. for a moment i had meaning again. and then he would laugh... and i would feel my face contorting in an unfamiliar way. i was smiling. and then i would have to drop him at the sitters, and go sit at a desk at a mindless job. and i would drive home, and drag myself back into the house. it was a struggle to look into my husbands eyes, because i knew he could see the pain behind them. it hurt to have him touch me, knowing his touch is what had left me feeling so empty. i didn't clean, i didn't cook. i didn't grocery shop. i didn't leave the house. i didn't smile. i fell. into the depths. i fell hard. i breathed. in and out. on repeat.

and as i fell, i quit writing. i quit reading. i quit blogging.

and a funny thing happened. i felt worse. but that worse feeling didn't bother me, i welcomed it. the anger, the denial, the tears, i welcomed them all.

asher turns 1 next week. a whole year old. not my little baby boy, my little buddy big boy. and one day, not all of a sudden, but in a very slow turn, i realized what i was missing. This child. This boy. This love. This life. in living a half life of my own, i wasn't allowing asher's life to be whole. he deserves a whole life. he deserves a great life. he deserves a whole mommy.

i needed to change... and i have said it before here on this blog... if you are finding it hard to change your insides, change your outsides, it will almost always drive you to change your whole. and so i changed what i ate. and i started feeling better. and then i started looking better. and then i knew i needed a bigger change, a GREAT change. so, i did what every woman does when they want a change... i made a hair appointment.

i went in, and i sat in the familiar chair, and i smiled at mandy's familiar face. and i told her, "i need a change." i told her, "i want it all gone." she understood me to be talking about my hair... but i meant so much more. i needed to change my life. i wanted it ALL gone. all the doubt, and the fear, and the feeling bad for myself. all the pain, and the loss of interest, and the confusion. i wanted it gone. and as she took those scissors in her hands and asked me if i was sure, i closed my eyes, and with the snipping sound, and the weight off my back... i breathed a sigh of relief and opened my eyes. what was that in the reflection? who was that? it was me. i was smiling. with every snip, and every cut, a lighter load, a new me. and amongst the stringy mess of hair on the ground, lay the me i so wanted to shed. the sad me, the lost me, the bits of me that i didn't recognize. i got up from that chair, with a lighter load, a smile on my face. i lost so much more than just my hair that day. i lost the evil, bitter, parts of me; the parts that wanted to keep me in the depths. i got my change, i lost it ALL. i felt like me again. i looked like me again, a hotter me, a better me, a me with much shorter hair.

and so i return to blogging, to continue to find myself again. i continue to blog, i continue to live... but the life i was meant to live. with a smile on my face, and much shorter hair, i return. to blogging, and to life.

new baby smell...

2011-06-22T17:31:00.002-05:00

matthew and i have been married for 4 years today.

4 years ago this moment, i was all a flutter in the basement of the church getting my hair done and praying i could squeeze into my wedding dress.

4 years ago today, we were not parents.

4 years ago today we couldn't wait to be husband and wife.

4 years ago today, feels like a lifetime ago.

everyone says that the first year of marriage is so hard.  i expected it to be unbearable by what people said. our first year was difficult, i sometimes questioned what in the world i got myself into. 4 years later... i still do. i think 25 years from now i will still. marriage, and then motherhood, has been the most rewarding and the most challenging thing i have ever done in my life. and this last year has been the most difficult of all.

our 3rd anniversary was spent in prepared childbirth class watching a video of live birth. matthew was only minimally traumatized, but we still vowed to not spend an anniversary doing that again.

i spent the next months being bloated, swollen, uncomfortable, and cranky.

then came the end of august. early morning august 30th my water broke, afternoon august 31st we finally gave in and had a c-section. our lives were forever changed. we were no longer just husband and wife. we were parents. mommy and daddy.

for 8 weeks i recovered from surgery while holding a baby in my arms and leaking breast milk on every piece of clothing that fit me. i tried everything in my power to not have to go to back to work. i gave in after 8 weeks and went back part time, determined to find another alternative. matthew plugged away at his job more determination filling him to succeed than every before.

8 weeks later, i added more hours at work, desperately poor and desperately missing my baby. i took every ounce of frustration and despair out on matthew. he took it in strides.

several weeks later we found out we were pregnant again. i was freaked. matthew was sure. he held my hand while my heart palpitated. we planned, we dreamed, we grew together. the first few months as parents didn't seem so bad now. there were bigger things.

before we knew it, but after we allowed ourselves to dream, the moment came, and no heartbeat was found. he held me while i cried, he prayed with me when i asked. our lives had been forever changed.  this time we would not be able to hold our baby. this time our dreams wouldn't come true.

money got tighter, our schedules got busier, life went marching on despite my grief. and the new ~~car~~ baby smell began to wear off. we love that boy, he is the best thing either of us have ever done in our lives... but it is not easy.  being a parent is hard. your heart is always in motion, your brain is always in action, you forget which way is up. we took our stress out on each other. we neglected to pray when we should.

money got even tighter, our schedules got even busier, and life began to feel like it was coming to a screeching halt. we continued to take our stress out on each other, we still neglected to pray when we should.

and here we are, a whole year later, 4 years after we tied the knot, and we haven't given up yet. this third year was much harder than the first. this third year could have done us in. this third year has taught me a lot about who i am, about who i would like to be. it has taught me a lot about who is matthew is, and what he is not, and what we should be together. marriage is a constant lesson, a constant growing experience, a constant headache, and a constant blessing.

without matthew this year, i surely wouldn't have made it. i would have lost my mind, i would have fallen in a hole, i would have cried a million tears and no one to catch them, i wouldn't know who i was or where i belonged.

matthew is my constant. he is my best friend. he is the love of my life. he keeps me sane, he keeps me grounded. he loves me no matter the growth or loss in the size of my ass. he is the only man who would ever put up with my crap day in and day out.

and this year, we made it! we made it yet another year. as the new baby smell wore off and real life ensued, we continued. and in marriage, making it another year is more than just making it. in marriage, making it another year is everything.

matthew, thank you for being everything to me. i love you. forever and for always. i choose you.

funny what we...

2011-06-15T11:57:00.001-05:00

it's funny what we remember.

it's funny what we don't.

last mondya was june the 6th. the first time i wrote the date those days ago, do you know the thought that popped into my head... "oh. it's jonathan schmidts birthday today."

jonathan schmidt was my friend in elementary and middle school. we played on the playground nearly everyday. the first time i muttered a swear word, was in front jonathan schmidt. he couldn't believe what came out of my mouth, he may have applauded or cheered. after that, the words fell out easily.

his birthday often coincided with the end of school. so, after the last day of school we would head to his birthday party. to his house, or to the alpine slide. to the pool or to bowling. the last day of shcool was double fun for us.

he made me laugh. we had fun. i loved his sweet mama. she accompanied us on many field trips, and i would sit and chat with her on the bus. when she picked him up from school, she would get a hug from me.

time marched on, and for us in different directions... he lives in new york now, and is in a band. i live in omaha and rarely remember to shower. i don't think of him often... but on this day, i remembered clearly, today is jonathan schmidts birthday.

lizzies parent's phone number will be forever engrained in my mind.

but i don't remember my mom getting a shot in her butt in front of us when we were little.

i can clearly remember my 7th grade science teacher giving us bathroom advice, "if it's yellow let it mellow, if it's brown flush it down." i can also remember the groan of the students in class that day.

but i don't remember the addresses to houses i used to live in.

the day my brother was born. clear as a whistle.

the day i got married... kind of a blur.

there are tiny details of people i hardly knew, that i can remember and describe with ease.

there are moments that i can remember exactly how i felt, non descript, nothing moments.

but sometimes there are stories people tell that i was apparently a part of, that i don't remember at all. they are recalling the story, and all i can do is stare blankly, because in memory, it never happened.

memory is a fickle friend.

i am sure that on october 15th, jonathan schmidt will not wake up and think... oh today is melinda's birthday.

it's funny what we remember.

it's funny what we don't.

dear friend...

2011-06-02T22:21:00.000-05:00

for fun this evening i was looking up words in the dictionary. yes, i think that is fun.

i was so struck by Merriam Webster's definition of the word friend:

friend: one attached to another by affection or esteem

in fact, reading the simply placed words again, i can feel my mouth curling into a smile, and my eyes begin to tear.

i have few friends. i can remember times in my life when i was surrounded with friends, when i had hundreds of friends, when friends appeared around every corner... but looking back, those weren't really friends at all. they were acquaintances, they were people who helped make 4th hour earth science a little more bearable. they weren't friends. looking back, i always had few friends.

i am wary of attaching myself to anyone or anything. i find it difficult to esteem anyone. people will only let you down. i have had true affection for very few in my days on this earth.

perhaps this is wrong. perhaps this is a way living without really living at all. perhaps i am jaded and cynical. but perhaps in having few friends, i have been able to experience the truest form of love and affection and esteem.

i have never felt alone, i have always known who stood beside me.

i have never doubted i was loved. those people were always sure to not just to tell me, but show me, the love was there.

i have been appreciated and esteemed far more than i deserved.

i have been shown affection, like only a true friend could.

over the years i have chosen to put people by my side who will be there no matter how my ass grows.

over the years i have chosen to put people by my side who will stand up for me, and not whisper behind my back.

over the years i have chosen to put people by my side who encourage me, who strengthen me, who make me a better, truer me.

over the years i have chosen few, but those who i have, have not faltered.

some friendships i sort of fell into. matthew and i had no choice but to become friends. i was already friends with his brother when he arrived to college. he was roommates with my cousin. we were friends before we even met. and once we did meet... we became friends. fast friends. years later, we fell into another kind of relationship, we fell in love. years later, we are a family of 3 dreaming of becoming a family of many more.

some friendships i was forced into. my closest friends in the world, the people i know will never leave my side, the people i miss the most when we are apart... are my cousins. jennifer and april. from the day we were born, we spent countless hours around each other. we were made to play together, and sleep together, and bathe together. we were family. but we were so much more. they became my sisters, my friends. when something good or bad happens to me, they are the first people i want to call. i dream of living next door to them, so our kids can grow up as close as we were. they love me no matter what, they can tell me when i am being an idiot without it hurting too much.

some friendships were made out of desperation. when i arrived at college, i was lost and confused and knew i needed to find a friend. the first person i met was my team leader. she quickly became my friend, and bundled me up so i could bare the could walk to the cafeteria all winter long. she became my roommate, and my confidant, she became my friend. though i see her rarely now, i think she knows i love her. she knows that i would never hurt her meaningfully. on that first day at college i noticed a tall smiling blond down the hall from me, and smiled back. when we had our first activity later that night, i began talking to her; most memories from college involve her. i see her still sometimes today in our busy lives, and i will always love her.

some friendships had rough starts. rachel's boyfriend always hated me, for some reason he didn't like us hanging out. i chose to hate him back. they are married now. and i love them both. i giggle about the past and the stress it caused me in college, because today, they could not be more perfect each other. rachel and i had so much fun in college. she made em laugh, and was always my choice friend to take into new situations, she loves people an makes me feel less awkward in large crowds. she has bailed me out of hard situations. i know she prays for me.

some friendships last a lifetime. lizzie and i met on the playground in 2nd grade. we swung on the small side of the playground together. she lived up the street from my grandma and grandpa, and sometimes we played outside til the sun would set. years went by, and our friendship faded in and out. we had rough times, we had good times, we were not always the best of friends. today, i call her my best friend. i will stand next to her when she gets married next month. she has chosen the most wonderful man to spend the rest of her life with. it doesn't matter how many days or weeks or months fall in between our conversations. i doesn't matter the miles in between. she will always be my best friend. she will love me, and i her, until we take our final breathe.

some friendships you have to take for what they were, what they become. holly married my cousin, she was very close friends with my brother in law. we didn't always love each other. in fact, the feelings may have been a little stronger than that. but one day she invited us over for wine and boardgames, and we realized we are the same. we love celebrity gossip, and decorating our new homes. we blog and write, and wish we could do it all the time. our answers are always similar, we think the same things all the time. she is very thoughtful and thinks of others far more often than she gives herself credit for. she is brave and honest and a hard worker. she is like me, but thin and blond with not as much make-up or jewelry. our crazy life with baby boy has dwindled our wine and game nights, but i still call her my friend.

some friendships last only a short while. they are meant to help us get through a certain time of our life, and when they pass, it is okay. some friendships end in hurt. harsh words, broken hearts, a wonder as to why you were ever friends at all. some friendships are not mean to last forever... they fade out as your life changes.

i can count my friends on my hands, not all were given time in today's post... but being my friends, they will not take this hard, they will still know they are loved.

as i have heard my mother in law say many times as of late... relationships are messy. and that is so true. they are messy. and allowing people into your lives makes your life messy. but without the messy, you also don't have the joy. without the messy, you also don't feel the love. without the messy, you can not be attached with affection or esteem.

i constantly battle this in my own heart and soul. i don't want the messy, and so i keep myself from attaching too quickly. i don't want the complications, so i keep myself at bay. i love who i have in my life, i do not feel alone... but perhaps i am missing out on other love and affection and esteem.

perhaps there is room for just a few more. perhaps i need to open up more. perhaps i could count my friends on both my fingers and my toes, and still have all the joy and love i do now. or perhaps, this is all i was meant to be. perhaps, i have experienced the best of friendship, and this is enough to carry me through the rest of my days.

ear drum blastin...

2011-05-09T18:33:00.000-05:00

i was raised in a sort of a state of music shizophrenia.

my mom always, ALWAYS, listend to christian music, (the occasional 70's music would creep in there... but this was very rare) many childhood memories are laden with the voices of sandi patty, amy grant, micahel w smith. twila paris, steve green, and accapella ring through my ears, their lyrics in my head like it was yesterday.

my dad never listened to christian music. now, as a pastor, i still think he rarely listens to christian music. it's just not his style. classic rock, classic country, modern country, and his one christian music exception, southern gospel. i can sing you nearly every bob seger song, and i am pretty sure the cathedrals was my first concert. queen, the steve miller band, johnny cash, elvis. this is the playlist of my childhood.

my mom and dad never agreed on music, and when a trashy rock song would come on the radio in my dad's car, my mom would beg him to change the channel, and not listen to it around us kids. of course, we had no idea what the song was saying, or that it was trashy. but a mother's desire is always to protect her children from anything that has the potential to be harmful. many conversations were had about music in their house. but nothing ever changed. when dad was there, we listened to classic rock and country albums. when mom was there, it was almost strictly local christian radio.

there was one thing they did agree on... without them present to change the channel if a song was inappropriate, i was not allowed to listen to modern radio stations on my own. this rule lasted until 5th grade, when i begged to listen to a normal radio station. they approved 2 or 3 stations that i could listen to on the radio. sheltered, much? and i got older, i was free to discover music on my own, i was free to find music that spoke to me, and hear it bang inside my head, press against my eardrums. i was free to feel music, and free to love music. i found music a shelter, a home, a way for me to express myself, express my joy and my pain, express my awkwardness.

my parents, while they did not agree on music, both enjoyed music. it spoke to them, it touched them, different styles, in different ways, but it touched them just the same. music was always present in our house. the radio was on, an album was being played, my mom was singing us lullaby's or songs of encouragement or silly songs.

my mom always sang with the choir, and in various singing groups. my dad even sang in the choir at some point, but i am not sure how he ever made it... man can't carry a tune to save his life. his love for music was enough to get him in the choir.

they taught us how to sing. they taught us an appreciation for music. they taught us how to allow the music to speak to us. (i have blogged about music before, you can click here to see just one of those posts.) i believe music is one of the most powerful channels in which to speak, in which to communicate. it can touch people in a way that simple words can not. i believe in the power of words and notes and beat.

and i owe that to my shizophrenic music upbringing. all that music, all that different music, all that disagreeing about music, allowed me to feel music. it allowed me to discover music, all kinds. it allowed me to love music, all kinds. it made me appreciate a world where i can listen to whatever music i want, where we can write whatever music we want. it made me sing. it made me dance. it made me find solace, and joy, and sometimes pain, in the magic of music. music has helped me feel... all my life.

i found a boy to marry, who loves music. who allows music to touch him, to make him feel. and together, i believe we will raise children who also love music... someday asher may write about how mumford and sons, and coldplay, and neil young, shaped his love for music. about how his grandma singing to him brought him solace, about how his grandpa's rock n roll made him want to play the guitar. maybe... someday... who he will be is still a mystery. i wonder what he will remember as the soundtrack of his childhood.

i will always find solace in the soprano voice of sandi patty. classic rock will always make me sing and dance. and i will always be grateful for parents who loved music, and passed that love to me...

and tuesday night, matthew and i will head downtown with my brother and dad to enjoy a bob seger concert... and lose ourselves in the music for just one night. i will emerge that night, a 27 year old married mom, who is who she is, partly because of who she found in the music. but for a moment, it will seem like i am 5 years old sitting in the back of my dads car, singing along to old time of rock n roll, eyes closed, and voice blaring. for just a moment, i will exist as a 5 year old girl, searching for herself in music.

8 months later...

2011-05-08T10:23:00.007-05:00

"When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts. A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child."
Sophia Loren, Women and Beauty

asher max is 8 months old. i have been a mother for 8 months.

i feel like i have been a mother my entire life.

nothing has ever felt so natural, and so foreign at the same time.

nothing has ever been so easy, and yet so hard.

when you are mother, there is not a moment that passes in which you are not a mother. your every thought, your every move, your every feeling, is encompassed by who you are, a mother.

i feel as if i have been preparing for motherhood my life... and yet, some days i feel completely lost.

when i feel lost, i do what i know. i love. i scoop up that little boy and try to hold his wiggly body close to mine. i whisper into his ear. i kiss his chubby cheeks. i hug and snuggle and squeeze.

i know that no matter how lost i am, i am not alone. i know that if i have no idea what i am doing, that the most important thing to do for my son, is to love him. i know that this one thing i can do without fail. i can love. i find loving him easy. i can love greatly, because i was greatly loved.

"The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new."
Rajneesh

my life has changed in 8 months, a lifetime worth of change.

little things and big things.

my whole body, heart, mind, and soul.

a lifetime worth of change, i would not exchange for anything. i am living my dream. i am loving, and loved, like i had alwyas dreamed.

with half a brian, unpainted toes, and wearing a belt for the first time since i was pregnant...

on this day... i can feel only blessed.

The Mother by Lucy Maud Montgomery

Here I lean over you, small son, sleeping
Warm in my arms,
And I con to my heart all your dew-fresh charms,
As you lie close, close in my hungry hold . . .
Your hair like a miser's dream of gold,
And the white rose of your face far fairer,
Finer, and rarer
Than all the flowers in the young year's keeping;
Over lips half parted your low breath creeping
Is sweeter than violets in April grasses;
Though your eyes are fast shut I can see their blue,
Splendid and soft as starshine in heaven,
With all the joyance and wisdom given
From the many souls who have stanchly striven
Through the dead years to be strong and true.

Those fine little feet in my worn hands holden . . .
Where will they tread ?
Valleys of shadow or heights dawn-red?
And those silken fingers, O, wee, white son,
What valorous deeds shall by them be done
In the future that yet so distant is seeming
To my fond dreaming?
What words all so musical and golden
With starry truth and poesy olden

Shall those lips speak in the years on-coming?
O, child of mine, with waxen brow,
Surely your words of that dim to-morrow
Rapture and power and grace must borrow
From the poignant love and holy sorrow
Of the heart that shrines and cradles you now!

Some bitter day you will love another,
To her will bear
Love-gifts and woo her . . . then must I share
You and your tenderness! Now you are mine
From your feet to your hair so golden and fine,
And your crumpled finger-tips . . . mine completely,
Wholly and sweetly;
Mine with kisses deep to smother,
No one so near to you now as your mother!
Others may hear your words of beauty,
But your precious silence is mine alone;
Here in my arms I have enrolled you,
Away from the grasping world I fold you,
Flesh of my flesh and bone of my bone!

prayer, writing, and feeling better...

2011-04-28T20:58:00.006-05:00

there have been times in my life where prayers have been answered, and times where they have not. this last month we have experienced one of the times when he did not. we prayed for our baby to be healthy, we prayed for me to be healthy. we prayed that God would prepare us to be parents again. we also prayed that His will be done. His will was done, in a way that we did not expect, and with it came a lot of pain, and lack of understanding. why did He not answer our prayers? why did He not give us our dream? why did He make us go through the pain? and with all that pain and confusion, more praying ensued. we prayed for healing, we prayed for strength. we prayed for comfort and peace. we continued to pray, because we still trusted in a God who answers prayers, even if they are answered not how we would have desired. we continued to pray because we did not know what else to do. and as we prayed... others prayed with us. and i could feel every prayer warm my soul. i could hear every word whispered into heaven, whispered into my heart. i believe in the power of prayer. i believe in the power of communion of believers. i believe in a God who is bigger than me.

thank you for praying for matthew, and for me, and for asher. i can feel every word, i can feel every prayer, and day by day... life is becoming normal again.

for 2 weeks, i was wading in the depths. i waded and i wallowed and i cried. then i woke up one day... and i just had to write it. i just had to share it. there is something inside of me that needs to document. there is something inside of me that needs to share with family and friends, and with complete strangers. there is something inside of me that needs to write. i once heard lauren winner speak at a conference. actually my parents heard lauren winner speak at a conference and bought me the cd of the event because they thought i needed to hear it... and i did. and i sitll listen to that cd some days in the car. because it encourages me, and touches me and brings me to tears at the thought of losing my dream, losing my pen and page. she says something in there, that i can not remember the exact quote, but she says something along the lines of the need to express yourself through writing is a need that everyone has inside of them on some level. she believes that writing is not just a hobby or a desire, but that it is needed to fulfill your purpose. it is needed in order to fulfill your life spiritually and emotionally. and in my own life... i find this to be so true. in writing, we can find ourselves, in writing we can have conversations and thoughts that you would never have out loud. in writing you can see and feel and and think thoughts that you would not want to have out loud. you can wonder and you can search, you can find. and last week, when i woke up, i just needed to write. i needed to share. and in writing i found solace, in writing i found comfort. in putting my thoughts and feelings and my story on paper i found a tiny bit of healing i had been missing before then. in writing, i found what i needed. in writing i found hope. i also found a group of women who loved me and prayed for me. i found a friend. i found understanding. and for that i am grateful. i am blessed.

and so the healing continues. and so the pain subsides, with you all by my side. thank you.

it's hard to not find joy in my family. my husband. my beautiful baby.

and really... look at this face. who couldn't find joy in that face? there is joy found all around, surrounding me every moment of everyday.

absent... part three...

2011-04-22T08:34:00.000-05:00

continued from yesterday...

i somehow managed to suck it up at work. alone in the car, or on trips to the bathroom, i couldn't help the tears. a couple times at my desk, a tear trickled down, but still... i made it. i traveled home that evening, numb. i walked in the door welcomed by matthew's embrace. he held me while i cried and stroked my head. i spewed my worries and my concerns and my the loss of my dreams at him. and he sat. he listened. he took it all in. he apologized for me having to go through this. knowing it was neither of our faults, we just sat together the rest of the night. and as we fell asleep, matthew's arms wrapped tightly around me as he whispered prayers into the heavens and i silently wept myself to sleep. my hope was all but lost.

the call came around noon the next day.  i listened in the bathroom stall, expecting the message from the doctor to bring me to tears. she explained my hormone levels were that of a 10 week pregnancy, at a point where we should be able to see a heartbeat. she said with nearly 100% certainty that i could expect the actual act of miscarriage in the next week. it appeared that baby had died a couple weeks ago, and my body still thought it was pregnant. she expected that to change sometime soon. she asked me to keep my appointment for next week, and call her if i experienced any heavy bleeding or cramping. the lump in my throat consumed my breathing. the tears fought my eyes. i sat on that potty in that first stall, and i wept. i left a message for matthew, and my mom and i started out the door to try to live a normal existence for the next week, knowing i was carrying a dead baby inside of me. knowing at any moment my body would realize i was no longer pregnant. that was two weeks ago today.

that weekend, i sat and waited. i sat and cried. i sat and watched movies, and played with asher, but i didn't do anything else. i didn't go grocery shopping. i didn't clean the house. i didn't help matthew trim the hedges. i didn't cook. i didn't do the dishes. i didn't do laundry. i just sat. i waited. i cried. i mourned. i didn't return phone calls. i didn't want to talk about it. i googled miscarriages; i read story after story. i thought i knew what to expect... i just didn't know when to expect it. i mentioned that i could prepare myself emotionally for this to come, but physically i could not... i did not know when or what to expect.

monday i got up and ready for work. i couldn't just sit home and wait for it happen... what if i waited all week and it didn't happen. i decided i would tell the owner what was going on, so if i called in in the next week, she would know why. i thought maybe she would understand. work was hell. i busied myself with work and clients and trucks and permits. but i couldn't hide the feling of anticipation, expectiation, i couldn't hide the feeling of wanting to get this over with so i could put it behind me. i couldn't hide the feelings of dread and worry and sorrow. around 4:30, i felt the first twinge of pain... i ran to the bathroom, and sure enough... i knew now. it was starting. i wrapped up what i was working on at work, and ran out the door a half an hour early with a call to matthew telling him i was on my way home. when he asked why i was leaving early, i snapped at him. then i i apologized through tears. this was going to be harder than i thought.

the physical act of miscarriage was not anything i could have been prepared for. if anyone wants to hear about it, i will share it with you... but i don' think i should write about it here for all the world to see, whether they are ready or not. what i can say is this... i did not want to be left alone. i was scared of would happen if i was. i could not control in one tiny bit what was happening in my body. it hurt. it was disgusting. we thought i might have to go the emergency room, so i called my mom and told her we would like her to come over now, in case we needed to go later. i maybe should have gone... but i didn't. for 8 hours i laid on my couch watching anne of green gables with matthew and my mom sitting beside me, supporting me.  every 20 minutes i would run to the bathroom, every 30 minutes i would let a tear slip by. by 1:00am, the worst was over, and i told my mom she could go home. i was exhausted and emotionally spent... i crawled into bed, on top of old towels, and asked matthew if he would stay home with me tomorrow. he wrapped me in his arms and kissed my head. and i tried to sleep. i tossed and turned and tried to sleep night. i felt both relieved that this was over, and empty and sad.

the pain and bleeding continued heavy for the next 2 days, and light for the next week and a half. i went to the doctor to make sure everything was okay, and will go back in another week to make sure again.

matthew has been the best husband anyone could ever hope for. he has prayed with me. he has laid with me. he has caught as many of my tears as he possible could. he has held me; and he has tried to give me hope again. i don't deserve how wonderful he is to me.  i don't deserve the kind of man God gave to me.

i have cried a million tears. i have felt despair that i never expected. i have felt guilt and remorse and wondered what i could have done. i have felt loss and tragedy and total loss of control. i have never felt so empty. so hollow. so absent.

we wonder if asher really is our miracle baby. we wonder if we will have to experience this a dozen more times. we wonder when we will have strength to try this again.

i will always wonder. i will always hurt from this loss. i never got to hold my baby. i never got to see his or her face. i never had the chance to give it a name. i never got to smother it with hugs, or give it a million kisses. i never got to rock it so sleep long after daddy had already gone to bed. i never got to see what funny faces they would make, or know what their favorite food is. i will never know what he looked like, i will never know if she looked nothing like her big brother. i will never know what she could have been.  i will never get to see what he becomes, what he grows into. i will never get to hold my baby. i will never get to see their face. i will never get to send them off to school, i will never get to sing to them when they're sick, or read them their favorite book. i will never know what it was like to have two babies 14 months apart. i will always feel like there is gap in our family, and empty spot where another baby should be. my baby is absent from my life, and i feel absent from my own.

i wonder how long the grief will stay. i wonder when i will be able to think of it, or talk of it, or write about it without weeping. i wonder when the hopelessness and sadness and emptiness will begin to fade. i wonder when the night will come when i do not cry myself to sleep, when matthew does not have to catch my tears on his chest. i wonder when the day will come, when i feel whole again.

the only thing that brings me joy is my family here. my hardworking matthew, so willing to be my rock. my asher. asher's smiling face and silly antics. his love for bananas and oatmeal with cinnamon. his army crawl all the way across the room, to find his mommy or his daddy or that rogue piece of paper. that is where my joy is found these days.

and i find hope in a God who is bigger than me, who is holding me in His arms. i find hope in a God who is bigger than me, who is holding my baby in His arms. i find hope in tomorrow, hope in this experience, because i refuse to believe that we have gone through this in vain. there must be a reason, there must be a hope, there must be a joy, buried inside of all this pain.

and as this pain ceases, i will covet your prayers. thank you all for your love and support and hugs sent from miles away. thank you for your prayers.

absent... continued...

2011-04-21T08:01:00.001-05:00

i have been absent.

i have not been me.

i have not written or read or sang.

i have not cleaned or shopped or cooked.

i have sat. i have cried. i have felt. i have hurt.

i have been absent from my body, still present in my heart. i have been absent from my mind, still present in my soul. i have been absent from myself.

i have felt like a shell.

i have been absent.

weeks passed... 6 then quickly 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12...

12 weeks, it stings to hear the words, it stings to write the numbers, it stings deep into a fresh wound.

i would have been 12 weeks pregnant today.

would have been.

when asher turned 6 months, i decided it was finally time to go in for my 6 week check-up... i had a c-section, i didn't need "the okay" to start having sex again; and they checked my incision at 2 weeks and said everything looked great. i kept putting it off, over and over again. then my hair started falling out; in fist fulls. everyone said it was normal, and that it would stop soon; but it still had not stopped. and we decided that the $30 a month for birth control would be a lot cheaper than the $642,789.23 a month it costs to have a baby. so i needed to go to the doctor. asher and i went together. we love each other you see, so we like to do things together. i don't really like to be apart from him because one day soon he will wake up and realize it's not cool to be best friends your mom, he will realize that i am not the best thing in the world, and then... we will not get to do everything together anymore. the prospect of that day reaches to my very core, it breaks my heart... so until then, we will do everything together. even if that means he will sit in the corner in a stroller, while i lay naked on a table waiting for a pap smear and a blood draw. he goo-gooed ga-gaaed in the corner and chewed on his sophie giraffe while i chatted with the doctor, and got my birth control prescription. my little monthly friend was already a day late, but neither the doctor nor i was too concerned since i hadn' had a regular 28 day cycle since i was 17. we left with strict instructions to start the prescription the first day of my menstrual period. the buddy and i went home and played until i had to go to work later that day. everything was fine and normal. i must have been pregnant then, we just didn't know.

2 weeks passed, and i was still waiting for that cycle to start so i could start my birth control... at 6 weeks and 2 days, i decided to pick up a pregnancy test over my lunch break. i couldn't wait til i got home, i went straight to the target bathroom. 2 seconds after peeing in that stick, the pregnant line showed up bright pink. the second line had not appeared, but i had seen enough of these tests to know what that bold first line meant. i burst into tears. i cried big ugly tears. i whaled. in the public bathroom. at target. there was a poor lady int he stall 3 over form me, who must have thought i was dying, still she stayed silent. i bucked up, pulled my pants up, and ran out the front door to the solace of my car. the 10 minute drive back to work, i cried and screamed and prayed. i wasn't praying calm organized words, i was screaming angry tirades at God. we couldn't do it. i knew we couldn't do it. our kids would only be 14 months apart; asher would barely be walking before i would have to have another c-section and another child. we were broke. how could we afford it? how could we cope? i cursed and cried and screamed. i was unsure of how matthew would react. i was unsure of my ability to do this again. i was scared and mad and lost.

matthew helped me empty my grocery bags when i got home, and spotted the opened pregnancy test. "babe. you took a pregnancy test?" it sounded like he was yelling. my mom was downstairs waiting for me to come home so we could go shopping. "shhhhh... " i whispered, tears in my eyes. "it was positive?" his eyes were wide and his smile couldn't hide the stunned look behind it. i nodded, in a full on cry now. matthew grabbed me and held me close, kissing my head and rubbing my back. "it's okay babe." i changed quickly and ran out the door, trying to hide the panic i was feeling rise through my whole body.

i continued to cry for 2 days. i thought it would be unfair to asher, i thought it would be too hard for me. i wondered where we would get the money. i wondered how i would survive being pregnant again. i knew i would have to have another c-section, and with 2 babies to care for, i was panicky about the idea. i started warming up to the idea when i saw matthew less panicked than i expected him to be. and when he lovingly told me while he was holding me one night, "melinda, you don't get to be sad about this anymore." i snapped out of it. i felt joy. because this was, after all, our dream. we dreamed of a big family. we dreamed of chubby fingers grasping our necks in hugs. we dreamed of dirty faced kisses. we dreamed of family walks, and trips to the zoo. we dreamed of children growing up, growing old with our children surrounding us. and there was a time, when we thought this dream would never be. there was a time when we thought our dream would never come true. there wasa time when we started to adjust our dreams, hiding those dreams deep down inside. and then it happened. then asher came. and we were overjoyed; over blessed. our dream came true. and we thought he was our miracle baby. we wondered if we would ever be able to do this again. and here we were... just a few months later, and our dreams were laughing in our face. our dreams were becoming a reality.

and so we began to dream. we began to think about how we would rearrange the baby room to make room for another little boy. we thought about how we would decorate the guest room into a little girls room. i thought about what we would do it was twin girls, or twin boys, or triplets. we dreamed. we hoped for a little boy, so he and asher could be best of buddies. just 14 months apart, we knew they would be the best of buddies for their whole lifetime to come. we wondered if it would be a girl, and how different that would be from our sweet and funny asher boy. i forgot about my diet, that was actually working, i even bought a new pair of maternity shorts. due to the lack of healing time, my tummy was growing fast and furiously. i swear i could feel the baby moving already... but it was too soon. i wasn't as tired as i was with asher, but i was home more, and could sleep more. i was starving. i was more hungry then i was with asher. everything felt normal. and we dreamed of this child just like we did the first time around. we were excited, and depending on Christ, assuming He knows better then us.

we told our parents and siblings. they were shocked and excited, and reminded us that we could do it. they began to dream with us. i anxiously awaited that first pre-natal appointment, where i could spot that little peanut on the ultrasound screen, and hear that heartbeat for the first time. i had no reason to think that anything was wrong. one night i woke up in a sweat. i was breathing heavy, i was panicking, and sad, and empty. as i shot up in bed, eyes wide open; i realized it was just a dream. i had dreamt that i had a miscarriage. i prayed for peace and safety for baby and i, and i went back to sleep. i knew it was just a dream.

a couple weeks passed, and i continued along with life as usual. i busted out the pregnancy books, and was following my pregnancy calendar online. i loved the baby so much. i thought about it growing inside of me... i thought about what it would be, how it would grow up, i wondered if it would have matthews redish hair, or my brown eyes.  we started looking for baby names. we started looking for baby products that would work with our two small children. i added more hours at work, so that we could make a few extra bucks before the baby come. excitement and joy overcame the doubt and uncertainty.

two and a half weeks ago, i noticed a tiny bit of spotting. the dr said not to worry and to watch it for 24 hours. the online forums said this happens for some women for the entirety of their pregnancy. but i knew. the second i saw the spotting, i knew. i tried to calm myself. i tried to tell myself if the dr wasn't worried, i shouldn't be... but i knew at this first spot of tinged blood, that something was not right. 2 days later the spotting had not stopped, and i made an appointment that morning. i just knew. the dr saw me first, ultrasound was too busy to fit me in first. she said everything looked good, my uterus was the size it should be for 10 weeks, my cervix was closed.  she talked to me about pregnancy again, and a little about the delivery. she gave me a little hope. the practitioner with her congratulated me as they left room. i thought to myself, "you should really save the congratulations until after the ultrasound." they rushed me into the ultrasound room where sweet colleen turned down the lights and with smiles looked at the screen. the second i glanced over, i knew. i had my first ultrasound with asher at 10 weeks... i knew exactly what we should see. and i didn't see it. i didn't see a peanut baby. i didn't see a heartbeat. i didn't see colleen smile. my heart raced and my face turned hot. tears stung in my eyes, fighting to break free. she kept a calm face, and told me that we could just have the dates wrong... with my irregular cycles we could just be off by a couple weeks. but i knew. my heart was beating wildly. the second she let me up from the table, i shot into the bathroom where i let the tears loose. our baby was gone. our miracle, our dream, our baby was gone.

the dr and nurses talked to me with hope, but i saw in their eyes that they had little themselves. they drew my blood and told me to come back in a week. i was numb. i didn't say a word. i knew what they were unwilling to tell me. i raced into the elevator and out of the hospital as quick as i could. as soon as i hit the other side of the door... i lost all composure.  i couldn't stop the tears. it was pouring rain. the skies were crying with me. i closed the door to my car and sat. i sat by myself and cried and prayed for half an hour, trying to regain enough composure to get myself to work. i was already late... but it was hard to imagine putting on a brave face and going on with normal life. it was hard to imagine how i would smile. or how i would keep my tears back. it was hard to imagine how life would continue...

i will finish later... this has left me drained. thank you for your love and prayers!

absent...

2011-04-14T17:52:00.000-05:00

scott adams. here. ashley black. here. melinda boucher. *silence* melinda boucher... *silence* but i was sitting in my seat. i was staring out the window. i was watching the grass green and the dandelions blossom. i was dreaming of life and death and loss of dreams. i could hear my name being called... but i could not muster the word "here". my voice could not bare to scratch out the single syllable. my eyes were heavy. my heart was heavy. my head could hardly hold it's own weight. i could hear my name, far off in the distance, beneath the water, beyond the clouds, behind the closed locked door. i couldn't muster the words, i couldn't look away from the green beyond myself, the green beyond the gray. i did not care of the check by my name. i must have seemed invisible. no one else spoke up in my place. i was fading. it was happening faster than i expected, faster than before. i was fading into a shadow, a hologram, a whisper in the wind. i cried. i wondered if i would stay this way. i wondered if he looked up, if he tried, if he studied, i wondered if then he could see me. if the color would return. i wondered if he could hear my heart breaking. i wondered if he could feel my pain. his eyes drifted slowly upward and in my direction... i could feel him look through me, as if i did not exist. my eyes turned downward as a tear hit hot against my cheek. pencil struck the paper in a swift check mark. absent.

just so...

2011-04-04T21:34:00.002-05:00

i just happened upon a very old blog post from when i first started this blog, in 2005. i wrote occasionally then, even mroe occasionally then i do now, and for some reason... this blog struck me. so i am going to share it...

here it is in all it's glory...

blogging seems a likely distraction...

I am currently sitting at a computer in the Grace University library. This is not my favorite place to be, and definitely not my choice of working environment. However, until I get a new computer, this is where I must do my work. Being in this place sucks for many reasons which include, but are not limited to:

1. Fluorescent lighting is not the best light to work in, especially when staring at a computer screen, and it is really unflattering.
2. The carpet is orange.
3. There are only 2 computers with comfortable chairs (woo-hoo, I got a hold of one today)
4. The librarian stares at me in a very uncomforted way, and whispers loud enough for everyone to hear. (however today she got a new fresh pink sweater, which is the cutest thing I have ever seen her in)
5. The bathroom here always smells and is the approximate temperature of my freezer.
6. The library usually smells of dirty diaper and popcorn. (today the odor is not as strong as it usually is.)
7. Small talk. I am always required to make small talk with people I only know marginally well. I am not good at it, and don't really enjoy it.
8. I am always faced with the reality of not being in school, and have to explain that to people while I am here.
9. I always see teachers and professors and students who know the real reason why I am not in school, and that embarrasses me, and makes me feel very foolish.
10. Quiet spaces make me fairly nervous.
11. There is a really creepy picture of something in direct eyesight of my chair, and I do not know what it is, nor can I explain why it scares me.

None the less here I am, distracting myself from getting my work done, by writing a post that perhaps 2 people will read.

for some reason, this post took me back to that day... i can remember it fairly clearly after reading it over.

i can remember what it felt like to sit in the library and wait for matthew to come say hello, and the butterflies he still gave me. i can remember what it felt like to have a job that i liked, but that could hardly pay the bills. i remember the stress and the emotions and the loss of control i felt about the adult responsibilities that were ever growing for me. i remember falling in love. i remember life being more simple. i remember going shopping, for clothes, for myself, by myself (i haven't done that in eons). i remember being thinner. i remember living in the ghetto and not knowing it was the ghetto. i remember being happy.

it seems like a lifetime ago, a different world, it seems like i was a different person. not a better person, not a worse person... just a different person. and i liked my life then. and i like my life now. sometimes it is just good to look back. it is just good to remember how things used to be. it is good to remember how life has changed, and how it will continue to. it is good to know how life is just so...

growing pains...

2011-03-28T10:57:00.001-05:00

we had a lovely visit with matthews mom and sisters this weekend. they came for a quick trip of baby fix. we always love having them. asher is so blessed to have so many people who love him so much.

saturday evening they had just left, and asher went to bed very easily. matthew and i headed down stairs to watch a netflix movie streamed to our xbox. we browsed the movies and finally decided to watch "Jack".

matthew had never seen it, and it had been years and years since i watched it.

i remembered it being cute and funny. and it was. but i also cried... big ugly tears through a lot of the movie. watching this movie as a mom was very different than watching this movie as a youngster.

i cried because i could imagine what it would be like to have your child be totally healthy, and still totally sick at the same time. i cried because i could feel the love that mama had for her baby boy. i cried because i knew; i knew our story would be no different from jack's.

someday asher will come home from school, sad and lost because the kids on the playground were teasing him. and all the chocolate pudding in the world won't console him. hugs and kisses and love from his mom won't make him feel better.

someday, i will make a decision that i think is best for asher, and it will break his heart. he will cry and scream and think i am ruining his life. and i will stand strong, thinking i know what's best.

and so i cried, big ugly tears. the tears of a mother who knows someday her son will have to grow, and with the growing will come unrelenting pain and confusion.

someday, asher will be different. in whatever way... he will be different from the kids around him. and no matter how perfect i believe he his, he will wish he was the same as the other kids.

someday, he will hurt. someday, he will be sad. someday, i will not be able to make it better. someday, he will grow. all i will be able to do is watch from the sidelines. all i will be able to do is cry myself to sleep and pray. now i can hold him in my arms and keep darkness at bay. but someday my arms will be unable to fight the darkness. i will not always be able to protect him. i will not always be able to keep him from harm. i am scared of these days to come. i wonder how i will react when he comes home sad and lonely. i wonder what i will do when i see the cruelty of the world written on his face. i wonder how i will be able to cope with not being able to keep him safe and from harm.

i dread this more than anything else. it makes me wonder why i would every dream of having children, knowing that someday he will hurt, someday he will have to know loneliness and pain and confusion; knowing someday he will have to grow.

and i know that unless he feels this pain and confusion and loneliness; unless he succumbs, at least a little, to the darkness; he will be living no life at all.

as happy as i would be to have him live in the room next to mine for the rest of his life... for his sake, i want more for him. and in order to achieve that... he must experience the growing pains of life, the growing pains of life that will leave both of us lost and hurt and crying ourselves to sleep.

tick tock...

2011-03-16T11:13:00.001-05:00

Clock in Pennsylvania Station
Alfred Eisenstaedt

it never seems like there is enough time.

there is not enough time with asher, before he grows into the next stage. there is not enough time in the evening for me to spend with my husband. there is not enough time to take vacation. not enough time to have a garden and still keep up with the other yard work. there is not enough time to make homemade baby food. not enough time to accomplish all that i dream.

there is too much time wasted in line at the grocery store; and far too much time wasted taking a shower, or sitting on the toilet. there is too much time wasted at work; and too much time wasted running errands.

it is so hard to want to give up the only time our family has to spend the whole day together. because every moment is of value and every minute is fleeting. minutes, you cant get back, moments that are too soon forgotten.

i often whine about not having time. i don't have time to blog. i don't have time to clean. i don't have time to read or write. i don't have time to have a garden. i don't have time to work out. i don't have time to teach myself how to sew. i don't have time to have friends. i don't have time to make my bed. i don't have time to serve others, i don't have time to help the poor. i don't have time to go to church every week. i don't have time to take a photography class, or learn how to cook a new meal. but this is not the truth. there are moments, minutes, hours, that i waste everyday.

i will always make time to sleep in, and there is always time made to sit on the couch and be. i have time to watch tv everyday. there is enough time to stop at target, and there is always time to shop for shoes and bags. there is time for a trip to starbucks; and there is time to read gossip magazines. the truth is, i have lots of time... but most of it i don't want to give up to do something a little more difficult. i work hard, i deserve to watch tv and just sit and be sometimes.

but that is not being a good steward with what God has given me, that is not being a good steward of my time, or my mind, or my body. it is not being an example to my son about what life is, it is not making my life the fullest it could be.

people will always make time for what they want to do (i believe this is also true about money, but that is for another day). and really... i like sitting. i like watching tv. i don't have to think, or act, or feel; i can just lose myself in a cushy seat and mindless plots. i can hold asher, and play with him, and we can have fun. but this is not being the best i can be.

i could make time to read and write, i could make time to blog. i could make time to shower everyday, and do my hair and makeup. i could make time to learn to sew, and i could make time to have a garden. i could make time to read and write. i could make time to do nearly anything... i may not get to sleep in, and i may have to give up a few mindless tv shows. i may feel too busy, i may really run out of time.

but i won't miss tv, and i won't miss the extra time sleeping. i may someday regret that i didn't take more time to try to accomplish my dreams. i may someday regret that i didn't make more time to be the best i could be. and i know i will regret, if the memories my husband and son have of me, are of reading gossip magazines and watching tv; dirty, unkempt, and lacking heart and soul.

i left my brain in the ignition with the keys...

2011-03-08T21:45:00.000-06:00

yes that's my foot, yes that's my baby... and that is my brother. what a road trip.

he slept for a few minutes in the car... very few.

this weekend in colorado was a whirlwind. a whirlwind of emotion. a whirlwind of time. a whirlwind i couldn't stop from whirling. and believe me, i felt like i was whirling. i'll tell you all about it, but first i wanted to tell you the ending, because i have to get something off my chest.

sunday night at 8:30 we finally pulled up to my parents house. after 10 hours in the car, a 40 degree temperature change, and 1 trip almost down the exit ramp instead of the entrance ramp; i couldn't have been happier to finally be out of that van where i had sat all weekend long with my mom, my dad, my brother, and a very tired baby. notice the absence of my husband, and the fact that the baby was tired, very tired.

i had spent the last 10 hours processing the weekend, and our time with grandpa. i had spent the last 10 hours trying to comfort a crying baby trapped in a car seat, who had not napped, for two days, and who woke up every hour all night long in a strange bed in a strange place. i had spent 10 hours missing my husband. i had spent 10 hours trying to wrap my mind around the idea of arriving to our destination, and then having to transfer all 200 bags of traveling with baby luggage to my car and then driving the last hour home by myself after my mom and dad were already snug and warn in their house. this prospect did not leave me very excited, and was very anxious to get home to my husband, and fall to pieces in his arms.

crying baby snug in the back seat i pulled out of my parents drive with the gas light on. i drove the 7 miles in the wrong direction to the closest gas station to their middle of nowhere house. the baby was crying. i was cold, and exhausted from lack of sleep. my mind was a blur of thoughts and emotions, my heart was heavy. i was angry i hadn't thought of filling the gas tank before i left, i was mad i hadn't thought to arrange some other way to get to parents friday morning, so i could have come back to my house in some other way sunday night. did i mention the baby was crying and tired and hungry and missing his daddy? cause he was. and i was missing his daddy too. i needed him to hold me, i needed him to listen to me. i needed him. we needed him. we needed to be home, but here we were... at the gas station. i opened my door, ran outside and stuck my card in the gas pump...

and then it hit me.

the car was locked. my keys were in the ignition. my phone was in my purse on the passengers seat. and my baby was crying in the back seat.

i cried instantly. i screamed. i immediately had a vision of the police taking my baby away from me, or him starving for hours in the backseat waiting for roadside assistance. i envisioned my husband yelling at me, and refusing to leave me alone with the baby anymore. i thought i might die. i ran inside and asked for their phone... the sweet lady behind the counter asked me what's wrong... "hun, are you okay?" "i locked my baby in the car." before i could say another word the second lady behind the counter had phone in hand and was dialing feverishly. "it's okay, hun. the police will be here very soon, it's a small town." i ran back outside and wondered if the police would assume i was high and a neglectful parent. i wondered if they would make me fill out a police report. i wondered if they would tell their firends about the idiot girl who locked her baby in the car.

i sat at the back window and cried, and watched my crying baby. i did not know what to do. people pulled into fill up gas, and i could see their eyes following me, i could feel them judging me, i could hear their whispers. and all i could do was sit at the window and cry.

in a matter of just a couple of minutes a police officer pulled in slowly. he slowly got out of the car, and slowly opened his trunk. he slowly flashed a light in the window to see the locks. and he very slowly stuck a jimmy in the door, and very very very slowly worked to to get the door unlocked. people continued to drive up, and people continued with their judgemental glares. some nice man in a big diesel truck and cowboy hat jumped out with a flash light to flash in on the lock the police officer was trying to crack. i cried. asher cried. he had a booger flicking in and out of his left nostril, and huge tears streaming down his cheeks. i cried some more. after what seemed like hours, but was really only a matter of minutes, the doors clicked and i wildly opened the doors. i threw a "thank you" out at the officer and the nice man in the cowboy hat, but they were already halfway in the door of the gas station, anxious for a cup of coffee.

i held the buddy's face in my hands and cried apologies to him. as soon as he felt my hand on his face, the tears stopped. i stuck his paci back in his mouth, and jumped in the front seat and pulled out of that parking lot, anxious to leave it all behind. first... i had to call matthew. i was dying inside. i was still a mess. i still could not believe that i was one of those moms. i dialed matthew. when he couldn't understand me through sobs, i yelled and hung up on him. then i called him back, and when i told him... he laughed at me. he said "so what babe, that's not a big deal." and then i stopped crying, and i drove home.

and my whirlwind weekend was over.

and i joined an elite club of terrible parents who lock their kids in the car.

the end.

so are the days of our lives...

2011-03-01T15:31:00.000-06:00

i am finding comfort in mindless things. watching soap operas and kathie lee and hoda. i am finding solace in forgetting my chores, and just being.

because the days of my life are getting complicated.

i covet the innocent days of youth and running on the playground; worrying only about if my shoes will stay on as i swing higher and higher. i covet days of graham crackers and milk snacks, and feeding my goldfish. i covet days of not having a care of the world.

those days are gone. my life seems a tangled mess of emotions and responsibilities and worries.

my grandpa is sick. and this weekend my mom and dad and brother and the buddy and i will be loading a car and driving home to broomfield so we can be with him. i can't wait to kiss his bald head, and hold his hand and tell him i love him. i can't wait to introduce my asher to my grandpa, his great grandpa. and i know, come sunday, i will not want to leave; understanding that this will most likely be the last time i see my grandpa this side of heaven. and i know that eight hour drive back home to my husband will be the longest 8 hours of my life. and the weeks or months that may follow will drag by at a snails pace, or fly by like a blink of an eye.

in 2 weeks my sweet daddy will drive to the hospital, just to put his heart and life in the hands of someone else. his heart has been beating improperly for over a month, and they knew they needed to fix it as soon as possible. some people can live permanently with this condition, my dad can not. after just 3 weeks of it the doctors could see the negative effect it already had on his heart. in researching for this surgery, they found he has a leaking valve in his heart, changing how they needed to treat this problem. he will have open heart surgery to do a valve repair, and the first part of a heart ablation to solve the a-fib. at a later date, he will have the second part of his ablation. in order to live the long life that he is supposed to live, this surgery is necessary. in order for him to be here and healthy for us, and for our asher, and for all of the people whom he touches everyday; he has to put his heart in the hands of someone else. this is scary. this is scary for him, and it is scary for us.

i covet those days of youth, when things would go wrong and you wouldn't even know it. i covet the innocence of a faith understanding that God can and will take care of it all; not yet encountering that sometimes God's outcome is not what you wanted or hoped or prayed for. i covet the innocence of days and years past.

still i am trying to live in this moment, knowing these moments may be some of the most important i have lived.

still i am relying on God. still i am loving family. still i am living my life. life continues, and so do i.

my plate is full. my heart is heavy. i know my God is bigger!

lucky number thirteen...

2011-02-25T23:34:00.002-06:00

a recent study shows that the average woman in america has 13 negative thoughts about her body each and every day. that is almost 1 negative thought for every waking hour. the study showed some women have hundreds of negative thoughts about her body each day, and even girls as young as 3 or 4 having negative thoughts about their own body at least once a day. the study found that overweight and skinny girls, black and white girls, rich and poor, old and young, all the women had the same thoughts, not one race or age or body type was more likely to have more or less negative thoughts this study was done solely on the thoughts towards the body; only the negative thoughts about your outward physical appearance. this study did not ask about the negative thoughts about your heart, mind, soul, productivity, talents, or actions.

13. that number seemed astronomical to me when i first heard it. and then i thought about it. when i wake up and i can feel my stomach has come uncovered from the t shirt i so carefully chose to cover it while slept, i think something negative. brushing my teeth i notice my teeth are not as white as they used to be, negative thought. then as i get into the shower, i accidentally take a backward glance in the mirror. at least one negative thought, more likely 3 or 4. trying to find what to wear, moving over the clothes that i know will not hide my still pregnant looking tummy... negative thought. in the car i wonder if i look like a huge fat giant in my tiny little compact car, negative thought. as i sit in my office chair wondering if the boy i am training sitting behind me can tell that my hair is falling out... negative thought. and i have hit 7 by the time i hit my chair at work each day.

i would say i have a pretty healthy body image. sure, i hate that i am overweight. and if my skin had that natural glow, i am sure i would be happier. but generally... i like myself. i think i have big beautiful brown eyes. i always liked my wrists and they way my hands moved. an above average bra size, and a waist line that actually nips in smaller than my bust and hips is what some women desire. in the right outfit, i can sometimes look hot. and with my hair and make-up done, sometimes i forget that i am overweight. i have always had people in my life telling me i was beautiful. people who made sure i knew i was special, and i was talented, and that i was exactly who God intended me to be. and i believed them. but those icky nasty negative thoughts still make their way in.

those negative thoughts are easy for any woman to think, and clearly are thought by every woman at any time throughout their lives. the reasons for this could be many.  i believe the first reason is that we are human. it is somehow in our nature to think this way about ourselves. if we did not think of ourselves in a negative light, there would be no reason for a savior. if we thought we were perfect, we would not think we needed Christ. the pressures of this world are great, and the physical pressures on women is greater than they should be. our constant connection to social media and visual media has put us in the constant shadow of plastic airbrushed women who can barely take a breathe. when that is what you see every time you turn your head, you are bound to compare yourself to that; and that woman, for most of the population, will never be obtainable. these negative thoughts are appearing in the minds of girls younger and younger with every year, and with every advance in social and visual media. the second reason has actually nothing to do with the physical demands of society at all; but our own demands on other aspects of our lives, that we take out on our physical being. When we look in the mirror, all we can see is the outer shell that houses all our inner parts. our thoughts and our accomplishments, our failures and our ideals, our actions and reactions, our work ethic, our feelings, our beliefs, our emotions about everything from our job to our family to politics to faith. we can not see these things when we look in the mirror. so when something is going wrong in any area of our life, instead of placing the negative thoughts where they belong, instead of dealing with the negative thoughts where they originate, we blame it on what we can see. we blame it on our physical self. we blame it on our bodies. we place all those negative thoughts where we can see them.

we should not judge ourselves by others standards. we should not allow any type of media to sway the way we think and feel about ourselves. and if we feel ourselves being swayed by it... then we need to take a stand and back away from the outlets that make us feel that way about ourselves, no matter the cost. and we need to stop blaming our body for the bad day we had at work, or the stress in our family. before the thought it thought, or as the thought is manifesting in our mind... stop and think. think, what just happened that is making me think negatively about myself? it is most likely that the trigger for that thought was not anything related to your actual physical being. in identifying what is triggering these thoughts, we can essentially kill the thought at the root, freeing ourselves from the negative thoughts that plague our womanly existence.

and i believe that the only true way to curb these emotions, these feelings, these thoughts, this negative poison; is to redefine how we identify ourselves. we are not a hair color, a body figure, and a shapely leg; we are a child of God.  if we looked at ourselves with his eyes, yes we would see sin and room for change, but we would see beauty. we would see a being created in His image. we would see light, and promise, and faith. if we could identify ourselves with Christ instead of with our eye shape, or dress size, or job, or hobbies, we could stop all those negative thoughts before they even began. all that matters, is that I am a Child of God.  I have been chosen.  I have been spoken for. not the sound of my voice, or the movement of my body, not my job, not my hobbies, not my ability, not my weaknesses, not my friendships, not my cooking, not my ability to keep a clean house, not my writing, not my winning or my losing; nothing can change what i am.  I am a child of God.  I have been created to live in Him, and Him in me.  I am loved.  I am beautiful.  I am me.  I am am a me, that is just as He made me. every freckle, every wrinkle, every look we can make, was in His design. every talent, every fault, every thread holding me together, was in His design for me. I am beautiful, because I am loved. I am beautiful, because I was created. I am beautiful, because I am chosen.  i am not a dress size, i am not a talent, i am not a pretty face, or a success or a failure. I am a child of God.

and tomorrow... 13 times i will tell myself this. 13 times each and every day i will remind myself, that i am not a body... i am not a thought... I am a Child of God. and 13 times tomorrow, 13 times each and every day, i will remind a girl, a woman, a mother, a sister, an aunt, a cousin, a grandmother, a daughter, a niece, a child, a friend, a stranger... that you are not a body... you are not a thought... You are a Child of God.

nice...

2011-02-24T11:04:00.000-06:00

nice is relative.

i would consider myself nice. i smile at people as they walk by. i try not to judge people too quickly. i only make fun of people when i know they can't hear me.

ask the romanians that i served next to in orphanages and centers, they would say i was nice. ask the kids i babysit, they would say i am nice. ask the homeless that i have served hot meals to, they would say i am nice.

but what would the people who i pass everyday say? what about the lady that sits behind me at work? what about the women in front of me in line with a coupon for every item she is buying? what about that girl i used to be friends with, but we have drifted over the years? what about the woman who was oogling the same dress as me on the rack, you know the only one left in our size? what would the people i grew up with say? what about my family? what about my husband? what about my child?

it is easy to be nice to those who you know need it. it is easy to be nice to the person on the side of the street holding a cardboard sign, or the people standing in line for a free hot meal. it is easy to be nice when you know you are expected to be.

but in everyday situations it is much harder to be the person that God calls you to be. sure... i am nice when i am in ministering mode; it's easy to be nice when i know people are watching me. it is easy to be nice to the people you know need it. it is easy to be Christ to the people you know never see Him any other way. i am really nice to people in need. i am really nice to people when i know they need it. but am i really nice? i have unkind words to say about most people. i have been known to judge people by their hairstyle, or the fact that they were socks with sandals. i snap at my employees when they are not doing their job. i glare at the members in my family when they say something that i think is wrong. i laugh at people's misfortunes. (but who doesn't laugh at people falling or getting hit in the crotch, hence the success of america's funniest home videos.) i gossip. i occasionally talk about someone behind their back. i get annoyed with people really easily. i usually think i am smarter than most people. i think i do my job hetter than most people. i get frustrated with people. i make fun of people's facebook status's and laugh at people's ugly pictures.

i judge. i talk. i whisper. i shout. there are plenty of people who would not say i am nice.

am i called to be nice? i am called to be Christ. and i think that if i was being Christ, i would be nice. and if you took all of my actions, everyday... i don't think nice would be the right workd to describe me.

so, while i might appear nice. while some people might call me a nice person, while some people have been touched by my actions.

i could definitely learn to be nicer.

nice is relative.

spent...

2011-02-17T10:05:00.000-06:00

i know you've heard the saying "when it rains, it pours"

while this might be true when talking about the weather where you are... i have come to realize it is definetly true when it comes to the weather of life where i am.

a sick baby, who has some brochular virus probably caused by rsv... and it is so sad i can't help but cry. he is home and happy and on the floor making spit bubbles as i write. but tonight when he is coughing so hard he throws up and wakes up every hour crying, i will cry too... because i can not make him better. because i wish so much that i could.

a grandpa, who i was afraid of when i was a little girl, but as i grew i realized was really the most loving gentle man who would do anything for me... and he is sick. and in pain. and 500 miles away. and i am here, and wishing i was kissing his bald little head and telling him how much i love him face to face. i wish i could fix him. but i know that i can't.

a daddy, who's heart is just not working like it should. who is tired, and uncomfortable, and just not himself. the docotr's say they need to figure out how to fix this, fast, because his heart is already tired and worn. and it is hard to see him like this. and it's hard to know how it will turn out.

a cousin who's sweet baby boy is sick, and has been for his whole life. and doctor's who don't know what is wrong, or how to fix it, and are running out of places to turn. and i am here so far away, unable to help her or hold her. and i am here, and that sweet baby boy hasn't even met his auntie melinda yet... how much i wish i could kiss his sweet little face.

a mom, who is trying to hold it all together as her dad and husband struggle, but who is going through her own struggles that she is trying to ignore. and i know her pain and helplessness is as great as mine, but she needs to take a step back and take care of herself too.

a best friend who is planning a wedding, half a world away, and i am having to watch it all from the outside, unable to be there with her in all this joy.

a cousin who is experiencing some of the greatest joy she can. a true high point in her life... and i can only experience it with her via phone and text.

and with all of these things added onto the normal life... stacked up bills, and empty kitchen cabinets. a husband working overtime. a house that i can't seem to keep clean and orderly. work and chores and cancelled cable. i am hurting, and confused, and experiencing a total lack of control.

i am finding it hard to hold it all together, i am finding it hard to fall asleep without tears staining my pillow. i know i am not in control, and that if i were things would be much worse... but in this moment i am finding it difficult to give it to God. i am finding it difficult to trust. i am finding it difficult to smile and laugh.

i am spent. i am spent and giving in to the doubt and frustration. i am spent and allowing the tears to flow.

i am spent, and still continuing to live life... because this is life. because i am alive. because there is something greater in store.

despite...

2011-02-16T08:11:00.000-06:00

this morning i woke up to the birds singing.

and i knew.

i knew that despite all the stuff of life...

today i would be okay.

like the birds were sent from heaven, just to remind me.

and they continue to sing, and i continue to remind myself that...

today... i will be okay.

there are so many...

2011-02-03T11:22:00.001-06:00

He cries in the corner where nobody sees
He's the kid with the story no one would believe
He prays every night, "Dear God won't you please...
Could you send someone here who will love me?"

Who will love me for me
Not for what I have done or what I will become
Who will love me for me
'Cause nobody has shown me what love
What love really means

Her office is shrinking a little each day
She's the woman whose husband has run away
She'll go to the gym after working today
Maybe if she was thinner
Then he would've stayed
And she says...

Who will love me for me?
Not for what I have done or what I will become
Who will love me for me?
'Cause nobody has shown me what love, what love really means

He's waiting to die as he sits all alone
He's a man in a cell who regrets what he's done
He utters a cry from the depths of his soul
"Oh Lord, forgive me, I want to go home"

Then he heard a voice somewhere deep inside
And it said
"I know you've murdered and I know you've lied
I have watched you suffer all of your life
And now that you'll listen, I'll tell you that I..."

I will love you for you
Not for what you have done or what you will become
I will love you for you
I will give you the love
The love that you never knew

JJ Heller
Love Me

i have caught this song several times on the radio, and every time it leaves me with tears streaming down my face. and i don't exactly know what it is...

except for that there are so many people hurting. there are so many people in pain. there are so many people looking for love, desiring love, and so many who are unable to find it.

the thing that i have in abundance. the thing i could so easily give to others. love. it seems so simple.

from the day i was born i was blanketed in love. i had parents who had waited for me, who held me and kissed me and provided for me. they told me everyday that i was beautiful and that i could be whoever i wanted to be. i had a brother, who pestered me and made fun of me. but at any given moment of any day would stand up for me to others. he stood next to me on the day i was married. i had cousins, and aunts and uncles who loved to spend time with me,who would do anything for me. i had friends who didn't care that i was a little odd and louder than most. i had friends who loved me for me. i met a boy. a boy who loved others. a boy that loved me. he chose me above all the other girls, and he chooses still to love me everyday, even though i am cranky and my ass grows a little more everyday. and we love. and one day we brought a baby into this world, and he is lavished with possibly even more love than i. and even if i did not have all that love... i would have still had a God, who created me, who died for me so that i may live. who loved me just as i was.

and it breaks my heart that not everyone can be covered in the same kind of love as me. it breaks my heart that so many search yet do not find.

why should i be lavished in love, when there are so many coveting it for themselves?

just call me mommy no brain...

2011-01-27T19:59:00.001-06:00

asher is almost 5 months old. if you saw my still pregnant looking gut, you wouldn't guess this. if you saw the tiny bud of his first tooth, you would guess it.

for 5 months my life has been filled with eternal joy. and laundry. and not showering.

for 5 months my brain has been completely dead.

i do not remember the last time i had two coherent thoughts strung together. i have a hard time starting and finishing a sentence. i forget how old i am. i forgot to pay a bill one month; i haven't done that--ever. i have to write everything down, everything. a real conversation about real life current events is out, i wouldn't even know where to start. i deep conversation about life and faith and the future. forget it. i haven't even had a deep thought in 5 months. how about a conversation about diaper rash or baby poop? that i can maybe handle. but let's keep it under 5 minutes, i have a screaming baby who needs to eat, or a diaper change, or attention.

i don't like being brain dead. i was never an intellectual. i wouldn't say i was a genius, or a prodogy, or that i could write or say thing eloquently always. i could easily be mistaken for a blonde. and i have been known to say idiotic things. but i used to have thoughts. i used to think. i used to be able to hold a conversation about something other than breastfeeding and teething.

my brain feels much like it did in college, during finals week, when i would be up for 3 straight days, living off of coke (like coca-cola, not like the powdery white stuff) and peanut butter straight from the jar.

i once was doing a take home final and kept falling asleep after i started each new question. i wrote answers like "a vision of the ho bag" and "men are evil, and we have to really try to get people to love themselves when it is raining" and, "not be a complete jackballs." and "as a girl, i am always surprised when people really cared that i wasn't around at all." seriously. for my theology final, at bible college. i would look at the question, start typing the answer and then drift off into a state of mostly sleep, but somehow the typing would continue. on the very last question i was answering, i woke up into a state of awareness where i could actually read what i had just written. the first thing i saw was "a vision of the ho bag." i cracked up. a few girlfriends were with me in the computer lab and i read out loud the answers i had just written. we laughed and laughed and laughed. then i decided there was no time to correct this final, so i printed it and ran across campus to turn it in by the deadline. I got an A-. there were lots of squiggly lines and question marks covering every page. the professor must have thought i would be entering the mental institution soon and thought it would be nice to give me an A. jokes on him, turns out i am not crazy, i am just tired and lazy, and have no brain.

and the point of that tangent is... i feel now, like i did then. brain dead. only i am sleeping, i don't feel tired. my brain just feels like... mush.

some tell me the fog will lift. some tell me mom brain is here to stay. i am hoping the first will come true.

some day soon i want to have a serious thought. some day soon i want to be able to write, to the speak, to think. some day soon i would like to have a brain again.

until then... just call me mommy no brain.

the good news is... asher is too young to know i am an idiot.

dear jesus, please let my brain come back before he is old enough to know. amen.

danny who?

2011-01-18T13:03:00.004-06:00

People smile and tell me I'm the lucky one, and we've just begun,
Think I'm gonna have a son.
He will be like she and me, as free as a dove, conceived in love,
Sun is gonna shine above.

And even though we ain't got money, I'm so in love with ya honey,
And everything will bring a chain of love.
And in the morning when I rise, you bring a tear of joy to my eyes,
And tell me everything is gonna be alright.

Seems as though a month ago I beta chi, never got high,
Oh, I was a sorry guy.
And now a smile, a face, a girl that shares my name,
Now I'm through with the game, this boy will never be the same.

And even though we ain't got money, I'm so in love with ya honey,
And everything will bring a chain of love.
And in the morning when I rise, you bring a tear of joy to my eyes,
And tell me everything is gonna be alright.

Pisces, Virgo rising is a very good sign, strong and kind,
And the little boy is mine.
Now I see a family where there once was none, now we've just begun,
Yeah, we're gonna fly to the sun.

And even though we ain't got money, I'm so in love with ya honey,
And everything will bring a chain of love.
And in the morning when I rise, you bring a tear of joy to my eyes,
And tell me everything is gonna be alright.

Love the girl who holds the world in a paper cup, drink it up,
Love her and she'll bring you luck.
And if you find she helps your mind, buddy, take her home,
Don't you live alone, try to earn what lovers own.

And even though we ain't got money, I'm so in love with ya honey,
And everything will bring a chain of love.
And in the morning when I rise, you bring a tear of joy to my eyes,
And tell me everything is gonna be alright.

Danny's Song
Kenny Loggins
Loggins and Messina

matthew and i met his first week of college. it would be 2 years before we started dating. 2 more before we married, still... we were young. 3 years later we were pregnant, and welcomed a beautiful baby boy into our lives.

the first year we were dating i bought matthew a new wallet for christmas. i filled the inside with pictures of us, and notes, and the lyrics to this song. in is still in his wallet today.

if we remembered to dance at our wedding reception, it would have been to this song. but we forgot about the whole dancing thing.

today, this song still means so much to me. we caught a video of this song on tv the other day, and as we watched, silent tears fell down my cheeks. as i closed my eyes i could picture us in our wedding clothes dancing around the floor like no one was around, whispering this song in each others ears. and i kind of thought we should be dancing to it in the middle of our family room at that moment... but i was tending to a fussing baby, and he was picking up dirty dishes scattered across the room. and tears fell silently down my cheeks because it is more true today that it ever was before. this song is our life.

when i wake up in the morning i am so grateful for this man. i am so happy. and i know that no matter what, everything is gonna be alright. because with him, i am safe. with him i belong. i love him and he loves me. it doesn't matter that we are broke. even though we ain't got money...

tuesday's, greens day. part 1 of (many)...

2011-01-11T18:43:00.000-06:00

my mind and heart have been conflicted for a long while... and today, i am taking it to the blog.

i have avoided talking about it on the blog, i avoid conversations where people may disagree with me. i don't like conflict. it makes me sick to my stomach. it makes me tremble. it gives me diarrhea. just sayin. i like everyone to be one big happy family, to be friends, to be secret lovers. i don't like disagreements. but, here we go... this is part one, of a many part series... tuesday is green day.

let me start by saying this... i am not a crunchy granola hippie. i do not consider myself green, and in fact i hate the term "green". i think it is a marketing ploy and a term used by rich people to make themselves feel better about how wasteful they really are. that being said... i am a christian. i want to do God's will, and i think that if christians were completely honest with themselves they would remember that God put us in charge of the birds of the air and the fish of the seas.  He put us in charge of the earth that He created. He, in His infinite power and glory, put the responsibility of caring for the earth in our hands. Genesis 1 26:28 says; "Then God said, "Let us make man in our image, in our likeness, and let them rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air, over the livestock, over all the earth, and over all the creatures that move along the ground."   So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. God blessed them and said to them, "Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air and over every living creature that moves on the ground." (NIV) if we took that charge seriously, we should be the ones heading up the so called "green" movement. as believers, as followers of Christ, we should desire to take care of what He created, we should be good stewards of what He entrusted to us, of everything we are given. we should save a whale, we should recycle, we should be conscious of our consumption of valuable resources and output of damaging waste. we should hug a tree.

but why don't we? is it because the conservative christian is most often on the political right, and the earth loving, tree hugging, "green" people are more often on the political left.   is it that the people who value the importance of recycling and use of oil are the same people who devalue the importance of human life and support abortion.  is it too hard to choose one cause or the other? is it that we don't believe the stories about the degeneration of our planet?  is it our our own selfishness? or do we not care?

i can understand the reasons why this cause falls to the wayside. of course it is easy to disagree with everything people believe when you so strongly disagree with one thing. of course people's lives are more important than saving the environment. i would never urge someone to give their money towards a "green" cause rather than to a human cause. with humans every day suffering abuse, disease, starvation, slavery, and pain of every sorts, of course we have a lot to think about and the call for us to serve is great. i will always take a stand for a person over a stand for a tree, and i think God would as well. However, i believe He has called us to do both. There must be a fine line somewhere where we can stand for both.  God calls us to Love people, he also calls us to be good stewards with what he has given us. God calls us to help the poor and weak, He also gave us a responsibility to care for all He created. I believe if God was here with us today, (and He is, I know I know God is everywhere blah blah blah- but I mean if He were really physically here with us), He would be standing for everything. He would be helping at the soup kitchen, and recycling. He would be counseling at the youth center, and walking when He could instead of driving. He would be giving money to help free the oppressed, and be smart about his food use and consumption. i think He would be hugging the neck of every person passing him by, and i also think He would be hugging a tree.

that being said let me tell you... i suck at this. my dream car is a cadillac escalade. if i had my way, i would drive it all around town making multiple trips to starbucks, target, the shopping mall, and omaha steaks every day. i am a carnivor extrordinaire. i eat meat with every meal, i crave it. my favorite meal is steak and mashed potatoes, corn fed steak as big as my head and mashed potatoes packed full of hormones and growth agents. i only buy purses and shoes if they are genuine leather. you can find me sniffing belts and other accessories in any store. i would adore a fur coat, baby seal would be even better (antique of course, i don't want to break current laws, i just want to be warm and fabulous!) diamonds are a girls best friend. 'nuff said. i prefer name brand beauty supplies, and pay no attention to the ingredients, or if they test on animals. rather be tested on an animal than on me, i say. i prefer water out of a bottle far better than water out of the faucet. i drink coke out of a can every day. the idea of living off the land in a remote area gives me the heebies, and don't get me started about having a reusable rag instead of toilet paper. i think being "green" is a crock of crap. most people who say they are green use 12 times the energy and resources i do, and if another tv network turns their logo green for the week and tries to say they are being green i might scream. you are a tv station, your existence is dependent upon people not being green.

in my eyes, as a chrisitan, a follower of the word, a believer in christ, as a person desiring to do His will, the issue is not who is creating the "green" movement, the issue is not whether our earth is actually suffering from global warning, or how the results of studeis are slanted in either direction. the issue is what God has asked of us. the issue is whether or not i am doing God's will. and... i think this may be one area we are seriously failling.

perhaps, my being a poor steward with what God has entrusted me is just another way that i am not fulfilling His will in my life. perhaps, my selfishness and ignorance in this matter is actually sitting in disobedience to His word, to His plan. perhaps.

it is always my desire to do His will. everyday i fail. i fail miserably. this may be one area that i can succeed in.  so, i am starting on a journey. a journey to find God's will in this "green" area of life.  i may be onto something here...

with peace...

2011-01-10T07:05:00.001-06:00

pale pink sky falls gently on pillows of white snow.

the trees wear a coat of pure white.

all is silent save the quiet hum of a snow thrower down the road.

unmarked, uninterrupted snow feels like a new beginning.

soon, the deafening roar of plows will overcome.

soon, the pure white will be slushy gray.

soon, this winter i will hate.

but now... i feel even a tiny bit of joy at this winter morning.

the peace of a snowy winter morning fills me.

this morning i feel peace.

Winter Morning in Baie-St-Paul
Clarence Alphonse Gagnon

what will become...

2011-01-06T10:36:00.001-06:00

a year ago i had a blog post all ready to publish about all the things i wanted to accomplish in the next year. i had big plans for myself. i had thought about it for the entire year before, and i had specific goals i was going to accomplish.

but something else happened entirely.

on january 2nd i decided the sore boobs and the constant fatigue was a bigger reason than the 2 week late period to actually pee on the little pink stick. i cried and swore when i saw the results.

on jaunary 3rd i tried it again. same result.

on january 4th i woke up with a pit in my stomach. it wasn't morning sickness. it was a pit of denial and wonder, knowing that when i peed on that little stick i would get the same result i had the previous 2 days. and i did. and i cried some more. how could this be? i walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen where matthew was cooking his eggs and packing his pb&j. "matthew... uh... i think i'm pregnant." i was crying now. tears of fear and uncertainty and confusion. it would several weeks before they turned into tears of joy. "what do you mean, you think?" "well. i am. i have taken a test a day for 3 days now." he stared at me, complete bewilderment. he may have mumbled something under his breathe, all i remember was the look of worry and confusion. he kissed my head and held me while i cried, knowing he would figure it out, knowing while he was holding me everything would be alright.

a few days later when i decided to take one more test, just to be sure... i cried at the thought of it being negative. and when 2 lines showed up, i smiled. and i knew that my life would never be the same. but i also knew that it would be okay.

and at that moment, my resolutions flew right out the window. at that moment, all i resolved to do for the year was grow a baby and have a baby and become a mom. the 50 extra pounds i was holding onto, would have to wait one more year. that job i wanted to quit and find anew, well... i couldn't switch insurance now, so it would have to wait. the big plans i had to fix the house... they would have to wait. the big dreams i had of accomplishing something... went to the wayside. sleeping was much more important at this point.

my entire year and my dreams and my hopes and plans were disrupted by those 2 pink lines. and i never hit publish on that blog post that was all written ready to enter the world. i had written it all down, i was going to share it with you, so that i would have to keep up with it. if you knew my hopes and dreams and aspirations. if you knew my plans... i would be too embarrassed to fail. and i didn't lose those 50 pounds, and i came back to the job i wanted to quit. clearly i am not a published big wig writer, and that stack of recipes i was going to try, lost out to ramen noodles and mcdonalds drive thru. that new me i wanted to become... i didn't become that person. but i did become a new person.

and this year... i am not making any resolutions. because i know this year i will become a new person again. not because i i resolve to change... but because life changes, and with it i do too. i will not become a new person because i want to lose 50 pounds, or because i want to find a new job. i will not become a new person because i try to write more or gossip less. i will become a new person, because i am constantly being transformed. i will become a new person because i will have a baby to care for, i will become a new person because i grow in my duties as a wife. i will become a new person because in this year life will change. i will become a new person, because Christ is always working in me. and the change i want in myself, may not be the change that He wants in me. and what i resolve to do, may not become, because He may have other changes in store for me.

I always thought new years was lame... who cares that it is a new year and a new beginning...we can make everyday a new beginning, everyday can be an opportunity to change who you will become. a friend of mine, whom i worked with during my time in romania, tweeted this the other day... " Why is it we c a NwYr as a chance 4 new start when God's Grace gives us that opp daily?" in non twitter terms, he is saying... "Why is it we see a New Year as a chance for a new start, when God's Grace gives us that opportunity daily?" Everyday is a chance to change who we are, everyday is an opportunity to love Christ and follow Him. Everyday is a new day.

and this year... i am not resolving to change anything, i am not making any half attempt to eat healthier or work out more, knowing that in a few short weeks i will forget i made any such resolution. instead, i am going to live my life, as a wife and a mother and a friend, and i am going to grow and change naturally this year, in whatever way God desires me to. last year, i think He knew what He was doing. the change that happened to me in the last year was far better than any change i could have implemented myself, and this year i do not know what i will become, but i do know i will become a new creation. i know that at the end of this year, i will not be who i was today. and i can not wait to see what will become...

top 10 reasons i love my husband... today.

2011-01-04T14:22:00.000-06:00

1. he still does the dishes. everyday. so i don't have to. because i hate to.

2. when talking to asher, he refers to us as momma-girl and daddy-boy. it makes me giggle, and is so sweet.

3. he changes poopy diapers. true, he may try to pawn it off on me first... but when i give him the blank stare he picks the baby back up and does it himself.

4. the other day asher was sleeping soundly on his daddy's chest. when i asked him if he wanted me to go put him in his crib, he just shook his head. "pretty soon he will be too big to sleep on me." he replied. he loves his son fiercely.

5. on days i work all day, he helps me make dinner. or makes it all by himself. he doesn't mind if we eat frozen pizza or mcdonalds drive through on those days. he doesn't complain that i am not doing my job as a wife and a mother, even though i kinda am not.

6. on our fabulous day off on friday where we could do anything we wanted to do, he sat with me while i emptied the dvr of all the shows i had missed over the previous week in wisconsin. he didn't complain about watching all the trashy reality tv shows that i love so much. he just sat in his recliner and watched with me as the morning turned to afternoon.

7. he will almost always choose a family night in over a guys night out. he is a family man. i love that he is a family man. i love that he loves us the most.

8. he adjusted his schedule at work so i could return to work part time without putting the buddy in day care. for 3 hours a day, he has asher all to himself, and he loves it. and i love it, even if the baby does laugh for his daddy during that time and no other.

9. he plays just dance on the wii. neither of us can dance. and seeing him move makes me laugh hysterically. he doesn't take it personally, he just moves goofier.

10. when i forget to tell him to his face how much i love him, how much he means to me, he will read my blog and accept this as an adequate appreciation and thank you.

pictures by donna... as per usual.

and so his first christmas came and went...

2010-12-31T12:40:00.001-06:00

i sit at my newly acquired desk chair today, amazed that asher's first 4 months have passed without notice. in every way it feels like i gave him life yesterday. in every way it feels like he has been a part of me forever.

and i am lost in a space in between where i am mourning the 4 months i have already lost with this baby boy, and remembering all the tiny little ways he is different from 4 months ago, rejoicing that he has become something else now. i am mourning the thought of him growing another inch or gaining another pound, knowing that as he grows i will not be able to hold him while he sleeps, and he will need me less and less; rejoicing in seeing what he will become.

and in this space i am finding peace and solitude and love. i am finding joy and meaning and tears of both happiness and sorrow. in this space i am finding me.

i am a wife. i am a mother. i love writing and watching trashy reality tv shows. i hate winter weather and wish i could find myself in an eternal rotation of spring and autumn. i love color and light, but mostly prefer to wear black. i love to be outside soaking in the beauty of the earth, and will have to wait 4 months before the weather in omaha allows me to do so again. i am simple, not fancy one bit; still loving diamonds, and thinking it would be exceptionally fun to own a fur, a pair of christian louboutin heels, and a louis vuitton purse. i am a homebody, there is no place else i would rather be, except perhaps paris on a sunny spring day. i love books and reading, and coffee shops. i like wine and champagne well made margaritas and wheat beer, i can pass any thing else. i like to cook and kind of enjoy cleaning. i can stick my foot in my mouth, but have learned over the years to guard my tongue better than i have before. i wish i was a better servant, but not enough to do something about it. i am ashamed to admit my serious faults. i need attention and love far more than i would like to admit, and find myself in despair when i am not getting enough. i am who i am. and you know what... i kind of like me.

i am a mother who has found herself so completely in love with a blue eyed baby boy that i feel as if i might burst. his perfect toes and his sweet chubby cheeks make me melt like putty in his tiny little hands. he is beautiful, and i gave him life, and it doesn't matter that he loves his daddy more. he is my reason for life right now. i carried him in womb and hated every moment of it, i had my guts laid out on a table, so that he could take his first breath, and have yet to lose my baby tummy... but every second of agony and discomfort and uncertainty was worth it... to see his perfect face. when i look at him i see love. in holding him in my arms i have found me. my life as i know it was forever changed, and i never want it to go back again. all that matters is my family, all that matters is this tiny baby boy.

this christmas i had the best gift of all. i had a husband who loves me, and provides for me in every way he can. i had a baby who woke up just in time for me to open his carefully wrapped christmas gifts. he could have cared less about the packages inside, all he wanted was the love and attention of the family that surrounded him. and he got just that. and i got a perfect christmas morning with my baby boy, i had so much to be thankful for.

and in this space of inbetween i feel joy and happiness and peace, which i will use to soak up every moment i have in the present, knowing the time flashes by in an instant and the future holds too many unknowns.

picture taken by donna boucher.

10 days...

2010-12-16T21:21:00.001-06:00

it has been 10 days since my last blog post, and i wish i had a good excuse.

i have started back to work 25 hours a week. 3-6 everyday, all day monday and wednesday. i am finding there is little time for anything else.

and it is hard.

i love being a mom. i love being a wife. this is my dream. but it's hard. in my dreams, it wasn't hard.

in the last 10 days asher has changed and grown.

he is beginning to grasp things between his chubby little fingers. he is very strong. ask my hair, it knows well. he even tries to hold up his bottle while he eats. it is so sweet, i want to stop feeding him and eat him up.

he has learned how to scream. he screams when he's happy. he screams when he's sad. he screams when he is alone. he screams when he is fighting sleep. he has very powerful lungs, and a very loud voice. this i think he gets from his mommy and his uncle patrick. seriously, it is ear piercing. it hurts my ear drum. i fear the screams in years to come.

he loves to sit up. he is what i like to call bobble bobby, but now that he knows he can hold his head up, he like to have it up. he loves looking around.

monday while i was at work, he had his first real laugh. i walked int he door and matthew announced to me with all the joy and pride in the world. "babe, he laughed. he laughed out loud." i missed it. i was at stupid work. i cried. matthew tried to make me feel better, "i made it up, i was just kidding..." the smirk on his face said it was a lie... and i knew it was. i cried some more. we have spent the last 4 days trying to make him laugh again. i have yet to hear it. matthew used the words "creepy old man" and "cute" to describe it. i think it will be angelic, i can not wait to hear it.

he smiles, he laughs(without noise), he smiles some more. he is so happy. happy and beautiful and fun. we love him. we think he loves us, and even if it is because he doesn't know any better, we love that he loves us.

he is getting so big. i can hardly believe it. my tiny baby boy...

is not so tiny anymore...

he is still my baby boy. he is still as adorable and as sweet. and i am still as blessed and as filled with joy as i was that first day.

it's beginning to look...

2010-12-06T22:18:00.003-06:00

a lot like christmas.

while i hate winter, i love christmas.

growing up i hated the day after thanksgiving. mom would make us drag hundreds of boxes out of the "christmas closet"and up the stairs, where the entire day was spent changing out every decoration with a christmas decoration. the glasses were traded for christmas glasses, and the mugs for christmas mugs. the christmas serving dishes, and candy dishes, and toys, and books... our entire house was transformed into a christmas house. then we would have to drag all those boxes back down the stairs, knowing the day after new years we would be forced to drag them back up the stairs to be filled and drag them back down again. but then the night would come, and the house would be oozing christmas spirit. we would put on old christmas albums and as a family we would string popcorn and cranberries for the tree. dad would grow tired of it after about a foot of string, and he would snuggle under a blanket and turn the lights down low, and hum along to the christmas music. for weeks to come, you could find dad any spare moment he had, beneath glowing chrstmas lights, under a blanket listening to christmas music on his dad's old stereo. those moments i will remember for always, and cherish them forever, and it took all the lugging boxes to achieve those moments.

i still dread the putting up and the taking down of christmas decorations, but i love the feeling of sitting amongst the lights and trees and stars and angels and santas, and the memories and spirit they emote.

yesterday, after a trip to hobby lobby with holly, matthew and i took asher to buy his very first christmas tree. we spent the afternoon trimming and decorating and reminiscing, and only fighting for a second over the placement of the lights on the tree.

the biggest tree we have ever had. i was looking for a skinny one... i didn't realize how huge it was. it is nearly perfect. ignore the crooked picture in the background, i kept bumping it while hanging ornaments.

every year my mom bought me a new ornament. she still does. every year we buy a new ornament for ourselves. i love putting them on the tree and remembering the story with each and every one.

the first year we put up a tree together was before we were even engaged. well, the ring was bought and sitting in a drawer somewhere, but matthew had yet to work up the courage to ask me. i lived by myself in a little apartment, the same apartment where we shared our first kiss, and got engaged, and really fell in love.

sometimes i miss that apartment... then i remember the late night parties from my neighbors, the stench of weed in the hallways, and the taco bell wrappers filling the entryways, and i don't miss it so much. but that is besides the point. that first year we bought the cheapest tree we could find, and the cheapest felt stockings, and the cheapest glass ball ornaments. we also bought this ornament. it is still matthew's favorite on the tree.

this is my favorite ornament. i don't particularly love precious moments, i have ended up with lots of precious moments ornaments over the years... but this one i adore the most. it gets the prime spot on the christmas tree, front and center. my mom bought it for me one of the first years she started buying us ornaments.

last year i bought myself an eiffel tower ornament. my mom also bought me one. they are both hanging on our tree.

i have dozens of these little knitted stockings. my great grandma will be 100 in january. she has a bazillion great and great-great grandchildren. every year we all receive these little stockings stuffed with candy and money. i do not put them all on the tree, just pick a few favorites.

this one is a particular favorite.

when i was in europe we stopped off for 3 days in vienna. after 90 days in romania, vienna felt more like america. we stopped at starbucks twice a day while we there, and found this darling little christmas village set up in a park selling all sorts of christmas goodies. i bought this sweet little santa there.

we never played santa growing up. i was the mean kid telling kids on the playground there was no santa. my parents didn't want to confuse us. i don't think we will play santa with asher either, but we will tell him to not ruin it for other children, we don't want him to be the bully i was... my mom never had santa decorations. she just didn't. maybe it's my lack of santa in my childhood, but i love santa decorations.

i couldn't resist this fat santa with his skinny legs this year. how cute is he?

or look at this silly santa on his reindeer. he also has skinny legs, maybe i keep buying skinny legged santa's because i secretly wish i had his legs. i don't know.

we have lots of angels on our tree. i like this little trumpet girl angel. ignore my thumb, it looks like a toe. i am well aware.

i made this ornament in elementary school during a class party. julie pliner's mom came to do crafts with us. the paper clips are a little tarnished, and i was a very sloppy hot gluer... but this is one of the few ornaments from my early child that survived the great crawl space flood of '96.

and this year we added a new ornament to our tree. a very special ornament. buddy's very first ornament. he could have cared less... but to me, it meant the world.

i bought this ornament the first summer matthew and i were married. in my garage sale hunting i came across this baby's first ornament. i wondered what kind of mother would send her child's first ornament... and then a thought crossed my mind. perhaps she bought these ornaments 15 years ago when she was young and hopeful and planning on a family, and after years of struggling to have a family, they gave up... and now she finally decided she could get rid of these ornaments. and i wondered if matthew and i would ever be able to have children, but i knew we wanted them... and i bought it. i payed a quarter for it i think. and the years passed, and i pulled it out of the christmas box every year and looked at it, and put it back in the box for another year. and i wondered... i wondered if i would ever use it, or if in 15 years i would be trying to sell it for a quarter at a garage sale with my other dreams that were never realized. i wondered until this year, when i had my beautiful baby boy laying on my lap and that garage sale baby's first ornament that i bought when i wondered if he would every exist. and that 25 cent ornament was worth a million dollars to me. it was the vision of a dream, and the realization of that dream. and it is my baby boy. my family. my dream come true.

ps... check out Christmas is Happening... day one has one of my favorite christmas carols, sung by the lead man in one of my favorite bands.

pps... since we have the cutest baby in the world... go to gerber.com and vote for the cutest baby. gerber.com. click on the photo contest at the top of the page. click vote. click search. and search for Asher Max. vote. you can vote once a day for the entire month. vote early, vote often.

wednesdays...

2010-12-01T10:55:00.000-06:00

on wendesdays i have to leave the buddy at home with my mom.

it is hard.

i wish so badly i could be with him always.

but every wednesday mom brings me coffee when she comes. coffee makes it better.

today she brought me lunch too. that makes it better.

and she loves asher so much and holds him and kisses him doesn't want to let go.

but still it's hard.

and today as i was leaving, he was watching me go. his eyes were following me down the staird and out the door. and i wanted so badly to turn around and scoop him up and kiss his little face and not leave.

but i didn't. i walked out the door.

and everytime i blink, i see those big eyes following me out the door. and it breaks me.

and i wonder if all the ladies who get to stay home with their little ones know how blessed they are. i wonder if they know what a gift it is. i wonder if those ladies, who may sometimes get sick of the monotony of being home, would still feel that way if they had to watch the eyes of their little one follow them out the door everyday. i wonder if they know that this girl in omaha, ne envies them.  and i hope and pray that they don't take for granted the gift they are given. i hope they revel in every moment they get to spend living this girls dream.

i am so lucky and so blessed to have this beautiful baby boy in my life. i am so lucky and so blessed to have family around to help me with him when i can't be there. i am so lucky and so blessed to get to go home each night, and hug him and hold him and love him. i am blessed beyond meausre, whether i am home with him or working...

i wish i could be with him every moment, so i didn't have to miss a thing. i wish i could watch him grow every moment.

last week when my mom came to pick him up and bring him to her house, i had a tiny little panic attack... "matthew, what if she gets in an accident?" i asked between tears. "what do you want to do, melinda, put him in a bubble?" "yes. kind of. he can be bubble baby." and i do kind of wish. i wish i could protect him from all harm, knowing full well that if i protected him from all harm he would live the worst kind of lifeless life. but i still kind of wish it, for myself as much as him.

i worry about him when i am not with him. i rarely worry when i am by his side, as if being next to him automatically protects him from harm. and i don't like to be that paranoid worrying mom, but i don't think i can help it. i think it is just the way it is. i fight the creepy crawly feeling fo despair and worry for my little guy.   and most of the time it works.

but i now understand that worry and sense of protection that a mother feels, that i never felt before. and it is a welcome feeling for all the joy that asher max brings to me.

a thanksgiving prayer...

2010-11-24T13:00:00.002-06:00

A Thanksgiving Day Prayer
Scott Wesemann

Lord, so often times, as any other day
When we sit down to our meal and pray

We hurry along and make fast the blessing
Thanks, amen. Now please pass the dressing

We're slaves to the olfactory overload
We must rush our prayer before the food gets cold

But Lord, I'd like to take a few minute more
To really give thanks to what I'm thankful for

For my family, my health, a nice soft bed
My friends, my freedom, a roof over my head

I'm thankful right now to be surrounded by those
Whose lives touch me more than they'll ever possibly know

Thankful Lord, that You've blessed me beyond measure
Thankful that in my heart lives life's greatest treasure

That You, dear Jesus, reside in that place
And I'm ever so grateful for Your unending grace

So please, heavenly Father, bless this food You've provided
And bless each and every person invited

Amen!

For each new morning with its light,
For rest and shelter of the night,
For health and food,
For love and friends,
For everything Thy goodness sends.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

I Thank Thee
Jane Crewdson

O Thou whose bounty fills my cup,
With every blessing meet!
I give Thee thanks for every drop—
The bitter and the sweet.

I praise Thee for the desert road,
And for the riverside;
For all Thy goodness hath bestowed,
And all Thy grace denied.

I thank Thee for both smile and frown,
And for the gain and loss;
I praise Thee for the future crown
And for the present cross.

I thank Thee for both wings of love
Which stirred my worldly nest;
And for the stormy clouds which drove
Me, trembling, to Thy breast.

I bless Thee for the glad increase,
And for the waning joy;
And for this strange, this settled peace
Which nothing can destroy.

we have so much to be thankful for this year.

God has provided for us when we wondered how He would.

we have a beautiful, perfect, 12 week old baby boy, who is growing every day.

we have family and friends who love us and lavish it upon us everyday.

we have had struggles and hard times, when others have had none, and in them we have grown.

we are blessed beyond measure, with faith, and health, and love, and peace, and joy.

we have a God who hears our prayers and answers, who desires to hear our voice.

we have a God who suffered and died for us, so that we may live.

we can walk, and see, and smell, and hear, and taste, and feel.

we can live.

we have so much to be thankful for this year, and every year.

it's a snot sucking, kind of world.

2010-11-20T00:10:00.000-06:00

these pictures were taken my mother in law at the hospital... hopefully she doesn't mind that i stole them for use on my blog.

my new life has been harder than i expected.

i knew that being a new mom would be challenging, i knew i wouldn't have all the answers. i knew doubt would creep in, and i would sometimes feel lost.  i knew i would worry, sometimes to the point of panic or paranoia. but i didn't know i would fall to pieces. i didn't know i would not be able to hold it all together. i didn't know i would be worse at this than other women.

i think i am facing this transition with a little more challenge than most women do. i watch the other moms while i am out and about. they seem so put together, gliding around target, dressed in perfectly fitting fashionable clothing, hair and makeup perfectly in place... and i am not them. i am a hot mess.

and i am kind of feeling like i am the only mom in the country who after almost 12 weeks hasn't really gotten into the swing of things. i am not sure other moms feel as out of control as i do. i am not sure other moms struggle as much as i do with this transition.

i am working 2 days a week, on those days i wake up at 6 to be at work by 9. i used to wake up at 6 to be at work by 7. it is so hard to leave him, and i keep hearing it gets easier... the first day was 100 times worse, but everyday is still hard. sometimes i cry. i want so badly to never leave him.

on the days i stay home with buddy, i find it hard to take a shower, do my hair, and put on make-up. i want to spend every moment i have with him, with him. running errands is challenging with a baby. i feed him and then try to run out the door as soon as i can, i only have a few hours before he needs to eat again. this means i often am wearing dirty sweats and am unshowered and undone. the other moms at the store don't look nearly as desperate as i do. i always said i wouldn't be the ugly mom, that i wouldn't let myself go. i vowed to take care of myself and make sure i was presentable and looking good. i laugh when i think about thinking that. because now... YIKES!

i am really struggling nursing buddy. from the very beginning, my milk didn't come in for days and days and days... he lost enough weight, that i had to supplement with formula. he did not latch easily, and i would fight and fight to get him to feed well. it started going more smoothly, but i still was supplementing with a little formula.   when i went back to work nursing got harder. i have to pump at work, and it sucks. i sit in the stinky dirty bathroom stall twice a day. it hurts. i can't get nearly as much pumping, as he can eat when he nurses. every week i am pumping less and less, and he is nursing less and less. this is devastating to me. i feel like a failure. everyone i know nurses. now, he is getting 2 formula bottles a day, and i try to pump more to get my supply up, but it doesn't seem to be changing. nursing has been an adjustment and a struggle.

i used to clean the house in an afternoon. it now takes me 3 days. what i started out cleaning is already dirty again by the time i finish.

i am finding it hard to find the time. the time to blog, or write at all. the time to read. the time to browse the internet. the time to shower or brush or my teeth. the time to do laundry and cook dinner. my days fly by in a matter of what seems like minutes, and i don't have any time.

buddy is always hungry the second i sit down with a plate of food... everytime.

he loves baths. he is in heaven while he is floating around in water. i find it very difficult to give him a bath. he has some eczema, and the dr told me i should bathe him in plain water every day. i am trying to do this, but somedays i just can't. i feel like i am failing is poor chapped dry skin when i can't.

he hates having his nose sucked. a lot. he screams like i am murdering him. i hate doing it. i hate it when he is in pain, or uncomfortable.

he has stopped pooping everyday. the dr says it is completely normal. he is not worried. yesterday he didn't poop. all day today i will sit around waiting for him to poop, because when he does, it will be 2 days worth of poop all at once. i have to think about what clothes to put him in on these days so i don't smear poop on his face when i change him. i am afraid to leave the house and run errands, just knowing that the second i have a cart full of groceries he will have a huge poop blow out.

he is the sweetest, happiest, baby in the world. he smiles and coos and rarely cries. 4 weeks ago, he started crying. he cried for 2 weeks straight. i couldn't make him happy. i couldn't make him feel better. i couldn't make him stop crying. my poor in laws were visiting at the the beginning of that crying fit. (you guys should come back now... he is really happy now!) i felt so lost and so terrible. all i wanted was to make him stop, to make him feel better... and i couldn't. and it was very hard.

matthew has been working a lot of overtime. on days i work, i hardly see my husband.  i come home, we make dinner, we clean up dinner, i feed the baby, and he goes to bed so he can wake up by 4. i miss my husband on these days. i don't think he knows how much i miss him, he thinks i miss the baby the most. (and i do miss him so so much)

i thought my brain would come back... it hasn't. i can't remember anything. i am completely brain dead. an air head. kind of dumb.

i thought my waist would come back (not that it was all that great to begin with) i weigh less then i did before i was pregnant, but my jeans still do not fit right.

i am completely and whole hearted the happiest i have ever been with this little boy in my life, in my family, in my heart.  he is the most beautiful baby i have ever seen, and he brings so much joy to me. but this transition has been hard.

i am not anxious. i am not uptight. i am not worried. i am not sad. i am not mad. i don't get upset. really, i am pretty easy going about the whole thing... ask anyone who knows me. it feels natural and good. but it feels different. and i haven't quite found my stride yet.

looking around it appears other moms are holding themselves together a little better. it seems they go through this transition with a little more ease. i have always known i was meant to be a mom, and i guess i thought that would mean i would make the transition easily. that i would be one of those moms looking effortless at the store, that i would be super mom.  and i am not. and this has been a different life.

this change... this difference... this miracle... i find it far more challenging than i expected. it is the best challenge of my entire my life, but looking around i feel like i am the only mom who hasn't been able to figure it out by now.

i still feel like this is what i was meant to do, but my picture of what it is supposed to look like has completely changed.

it is so wroth it. he is so worth it. it is the only complete loss of control that i have accepted whole hearted. one look at his sweet little face. his smile. his trying so hard to suck his thumb and his adorable attempts to bring objects towards his mouth, and my heart is bursting. i am so thankful and grateful for this change, this challenge. i am so grateful for this little boy. he makes it all worth while. because of him, all the challenge, all the change, seems like nothing.  i love this little one like i never could have expected. i also didn't expect to find such simple things, such a momentous challenge. and i am wondering if i don't have it by now... if i will never have it.

and even if i never do find my stride... it is still worth it. asher max is worth every life change and struggle. to love that little boy, and have him love me, makes every second worth while.

clarity...

2010-11-16T09:51:00.001-06:00

"A few times in my life I've had moments of absolute clarity, when for a few brief seconds the silence drowns out the noise and I can feel rather than think, and things seem so sharp and the world seems so fresh. I can never make these moments last. I cling to them, but like everything, they fade. I have lived my life on these moments. They pull me back to the present, and I realize that everything is exactly the way it was meant to be."
George Falconer, A Single Man

i watched this movie sunday, and i liked it. i thought it viewed like a well written novel reads. i loved this quote. i loved this quote, because this is how i feel.

*spoiler alert* in the movie, he wakes up and is going about his day planning on killing himself that night... he is sad and pensive and thoughtful. throughout the day he has interactions with people that brighten his day. the movie is shot in dull colors, almost grey, and when he has these moments of clarity... the colors brighten, the light glows. these moments of clarity carry him through. and in the end he does not kill himself. while he can't make the moments last... he can make them last long enough to carry him through another day.

i do not start each day wanting to kill myself, in fact i have never started any day wanting to kill myself... but i think anyone can relate to looking around them and wondering what got them there. anyone can relate to feeling sad, and sometimes lost. but there are those moments of complete clarity where the sun brightens, and you remember that this is life. you remember this is what it is supposed to be. you remember happiness, or even sadness, but you remember. you feel. and it makes it more bearable. and these moments carry you through. it is these tiny moment of clarity that make life, life.

when asher is waking up, crying and screaming, that moment when he looks up at me and sees my face, and for just a moment smiles, grins, is happy to see his mama, before he starts crying again... that moment. clarity.

the look of satisfaction, euphoria, on the face of ones i love when trying a new recipe i just made for the first time... that moment. clarity.

the warm sun and cool autumn breeze greeting me the moment i open the door in the morning... that moment. clarity.

the sound of an explosive laugh in response to one of my, rarely funny, jokes... that moment. clarity.

the look in matthew's eyes after i have been away from him all day. the look that says he missed me, he loves me, he wants me by his side, he needs me... that moment. clarity.

matthew coming home from work, picking up his son and giving him a kiss and not being able to look away from his eyes, the pure love and joy that baby evokes from him... that moment. clarity.

a piece of art that makes you feel, feel so much you can't help but cry, or laugh, or emote no matter who is watching... that moment. clarity.

the sideways glance of a stranger in the grocery store, smiling at you as if your life must be nearly perfect, and how happy you must be... that moment. clarity.

the radio playing a song that so clearly conveys what you are feeling, in the exact moment you are feeling it... that moment. clarity.

a hug, a kiss, the gentle touch of a hand. a cool busy swimming pool in the midst of a hot summer day. a warm cup of hot chocolate in the middle of swirling snow. a phone call from an old friend, out of the blue. knowing you just took the perfect picture, without even having to look at it. falling backward into a pile of freshly raked leaves. making a snow angel. turning the final page of a good book. sitting next to the one you love. these moments. clarity.

relationships, friends, family. clarity.

christmas morning, fireworks, a new purse and shoes. clarity.

life is more than work, and mortgage payments, and yard work, and bank accounts. it is more than stress about finances, or the future, or school. life is not just strained relationships, and sadness, and confusion. life is so much more than that.

it's the little moments in life that make life worth while, it's the little moments in life that remind you to feel, remind you to be happy, remind you that you are exactly where you are supposed to be, and everything is exactly as it is meant to be.

love and friendship and faith and family... little moments reminding you of all of these... clarity.

boxes and boxes and more...

2010-11-11T22:35:00.001-06:00

i am the kind of person who keeps everything. it's kind of a fault... and kind of not.

i am not the person who has rooms and rooms full of crap. i do not have so much stuff saved that we have no storage space for it all, or can't pull our cars in the garage... at least not yet. and i throw things away... but there are sentimental items i can not bare to part with. i still have important toys, and my entire collection of porcelain dolls. i still have all my chidren's books, and the puzzles i loved to do the most.

when matthew and i realized we were pregnant, i couldn't wait to go dig in my parent's basement. there, carefully hidden between mouse poop and snake holes and spiders as big as my head, is all of my earthly belongings. important toys and books and papers and puzzles and everything from my childhood. there also hides my boxes of ruined barbies... my beloved barbies that my mother let some random kids play with while i was in europe for 6 months. i came home to headless and tattered barbies. and every time i see them, i cry. but that is besides the point.

when we found out we were having a boy, i realized ome of those things would have to stay wrapped up in decaying boxes in my parents far too damp basement for a little while longer. but some things i knew i would get for asher. my porcelien dolls and all my stuffed animals stayed under wraps. all my dolls, and some of my girl books stayed trapped beneath cardboard. but my lego and duplo collection now reside under our stairs. have you looked at legos and duplos lately? they are expensive! kids toys have hardly changed since i was young... they are just more expensive now. i am so glad that i moved mine from colorado, to a closet in ashland, to a storage unit in ashland, to a basement in swedeburg, and finally back into my home and under my stairs. some of my old kids puzzles are now tucked neatly in my armoir under my tv. my old disney vhs's i never replaced to dvd are stacked nest to my puzzles. my captain kangaroo board game and bible picture lotto, my adorable wooden picture dominoes are all mine again. i have dozens and dozens of kids books hiding in every room.

and there is some little piece of sentimental little me that loves that asher will be building and creating with the same duplos i did. i wonder if he will build the same things as me. i love that books my dad gave me that he read as a little boy, i now have to give to my son.  i wonder if he will love reading and demand "just one more" before bed time each night. i wonder if his chubby little hands will have a hard time with the same puzzle pieces i did. and i am so glad that i kept those toys. i am so glad i have them to give to asher. i am so glad we won't have to buy those things.

and digging in my parents basement was like therapy. pictures that i kept packed in boxes. old letters and cards from loved ones, old notes passed between friends in class. my mr. t and mary poppins puzzles. my popple, and my care bear. my shirt from cubbies when i was 4. my pioneer girl sash and badges. my ruined barbies... tear. my senior class picture and graduation cap. and among those boxes that i had filled with my memories, were boxes filled with memories that my mom had of me. cards that they got when i was born, baby quilts made with love. the calendar my mom jotted down my important milestones on through my first year. some treasured baby clothes, and tine baby shoes. a baby book she started and never finished. a lock of my hair from when i first got it cut, my whole ponytail from when i cut it all off when i was 6.  and boxes and boxes and boxes of old schoolwork and artwork. i laughed at all the boxes she had kept. it looked like she had kept every school paper i ever had. but she held the pieces of paper in her hands, her eyes a million miles away... and just told me "just wait and see..." i knew when she held those papers, the pictures i drew, the writings i wrote, she saw my 4 year old face. she pictured holding me and playing with me and hoping i would never grow. she remembered my first steps and the first time i was sick. she remembered my bee sting at the park, and the leach stuck on my leg at the lake. she remembered rocking me to sleep, and singing to me, and praying with me at bedtime. she remembered comforting me after a hard day at school, and swimsuit shopping with me. she remembered she remembered what it was like to be a young mom, and the mom of a teenager. she remembered what it was like to be a mom helping her daughter grow up and make adult decisions. she remembered.

and i knew i would see what she meant when she said "just wait and see..." because soon it will be me not wanting to throw out asher's papers and wanting to hold onto every memory i have of perfect little him. soon it will be me wishing i had finished his baby book, or even written down his accomplishments on a calendar. soon it will be me remembering reading to him, and building with him, and taking him to school.  soon it will be me remembering taking care of him while he was ill and hanging his art on the fridge. soon it will be me digging through our basement with my grown son, picking through his boxes, looking for duplos that he and i both played with as children. soon it will be me.

and i will treasure every moment i have with him now.  i will take each day for it is. i will hold him when he is crying and cranky. i will tell him i love him. i will pray with him. i will look at his face everyday and memorize what it was that day. i will treasure every second i have with him, because i know... someday it will be me.

be the right person...

2010-11-07T07:55:00.000-06:00

matthew and i watch a lot of sports...

okay... matthew watches a lot of sports, and since i love him and like to spend the little time we actually have together-together, i by default watch a lot of sports too.

one thing i always like to watch is dr lou.

and i thought his advice to shaun white was so sweet.

.

"It's not important to find the right person, It's important to be the right person."

when he said this... it made me cry. because nothing could be more true.

and because more often than not, i am not BE-ing the right person. i want matthew to be everything i desire, i want him to fit the bill of the perfect husband... when i am no where close to fitting the bill for the perfect wife.

love is not looking for the right person, love is being the right person.

love is showing your husband you love him in even the tinniest of ways. letting him sit in his recliner, when your back hurts and you want to relax. having dinner made for him when he comes home late from work. saving the last coke for him, even though you know if you don't drink it yourself a headache is right around the corner. letting him have his night out with the guys, even when you never get a night out with the girls. it means getting all dolled up and looking as good as when you were dating, just occasionally. being patient, and forgiving, and loving, even when you don't want to. it's making time for yourself each morning, so you can be there for him that night. it's praying and serving and loving together. it's being honest and serious and fun.

being the right person makes love that much sweeter. being the right person is the only thing you can control in a relationship. i can't control him. i can't make him love me. i can't make him treat me a certain way. i can't make him turn the sports off and read with me. i can't make him bring me home flowers, just because. i can't make him find a job he would like more, or try to achieve his greatest dream. i can't make him say only good things to me. i can't make him bite his tongue. i can control me. i can love him. and treat him how he wants to be treated. i can turn off the real housewives and watch another football game with him. i can make his favorite dinner and buy him new socks. i can work at a job that makes me happy, or at least not complain to him about the job that i hate. i can say only the good things. i can bite my tongue. i can't make him the right person, but i can be the right person.

dr lou was right, being the right person is far more important than finding the right person. and you know what? when you are being the right person, you might just find yourself with the right person. when i am the person i am supposed to be, it it makes it easier for my husband to be the person he is supposed to be.

lou holtz may actually know what he's talking about. and i my husband and my son deserve me, at least trying, to be the right person.

(buddy's halloween costume... he slept through all the trick or treaters looking for candy at our door)

for fear of appearing a fool...

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

for fear of appearing a fool, i keep a lot in.

there is a lot i don't tell people. there is a lot i don't allow myself to dream. there is a lot i don't allow myself to feel.

past hurts, past let downs, failed attempts, fear, doubt, uncertainty, they are all there to remind me to not try, to not dream, to not feel. there is a voice inside my head whispering to me that it will never happen, that it won't feel like you think it will, that you will be let down, and hurt, and lost. the voice whispers lies and untruth. but it also whispers memories of those past experiences. and with those memories of past experiences, past hurts, past failures, past disappointments, comes a reluctance to try again. fear and doubt and uncertainty creep in. so instead of allowing myself to dream, allowing myself to feel, i push it down. it stays hidden in my heart, burning, burning til it hurts, but it stays hidden.

there are things i feel that i don't share with anyone. there are dreams i have my husband doesn't know. because if he knew i had those dreams, he would know when i never accomplished them. and i would be the fool. i don't like to be the fool. i don't like to be the failure. so, in my 27 years on this earth, i have hidden a lot of who i am. feelings, dreams, aspirations... i keep them buried deep inside so no one else knows.

the other day, sitting in my car, in the church parking lot, pumping, a song began to play on my zune. one i hadn't heard in a log time, and when i heard the lyrics, i lost it. it's not an especially moving song, it isn't a lovely melody that brings tears to your eyes. but the words cut me deep.

"Carve Your Heart Out Yourself"
Dashboard Confessional

Carve your heart out yourself
Hopelessness is your cell
Since you've drawn out these lines
Are you protected from trying times?

Man it takes a silly girl to lie about the dreams she has
Lord it takes a lonely one to wish that she had never dreamt at all
Oh look now, there you go with hope again
Oh, you're so sure I'll be leaving in the end

Dig a ditch deep enough
To keep you clear of the sun
You've been burned more than once
You don't think much of trust

Man it takes a silly girl to lie about the dreams she has
Lord it takes a lonely one to wish that she had never dreamt at all
Oh look now, there you go with hope again
But I'll be sure your secret is safe with me
Oh, you're so sure I'll be leaving in the end
Treating me like I'm already gone

But I'm not, I will stay where you are always
I will stay, I will stay, I will stay

who am i? what is it, why do i lie about the dreams i have? why do i wish that i had never dreamt?

the fences i build around my dreams, the burying i do of my feelings, it doesn't keep the pain away. It doesn't stop the hurt, and the disappointment... the trying times just come come in another form. in my 27 years, i know this to be true.  you can not keep yourself from pain. you can not keep yourself from hurt and disappointment. but i still hold onto it.

i don't talk about my dreams, what i want to do, how i feel... because i am so afraid of appearing a fool.  i am not one of these people who needs the approval of others, i pride myself on that. i am who i am. i like who i am. i don't need anyone else to like it. i am a strong and confident woman. but i don't want to be a fool. and i don't want to be a failure. if i told my dreams, and they never came true... i would be a failure, a fool. and i can not stand the idea of being a failure. i can not stand the idea of looking like a fool.

this thinking is so backwards. it is wrong. just because i don't share the dreams doesn't mean they aren't there... so in fact, i still feel like a failure, like a fool... only no one else has to know. the fact that i am not sharing the dream, doesn't negate the existence of the dreams.  as a dreamer, not talking about it is denying myself of who i am.  i dream lofty dreams, i dream many dreams. dreaming is a part of who i am, it is a part of my core. it is who God created me to be. and denying myself of that is destroying a little piece of myself.

it is okay to dream. it is okay to believe. it is okay to feel. and i am trying to do that. i am trying to remember my dreams, i am trying to remember the person i want to be, the person i was meant to be. i am trying to feel again. feel everything, even the pain and fear and doubt. and it is not easy.

but i need to. i need to remember who i am. i need to dream of who i want to be. because in pushing it all down, i am losing myself. i want to find myself again. i want to dream.

i like to save good fortunes form fortune cookies.  i have three sitting next to me on my desk right now.

"Don't wait for others to open the right doors for you."

"No need to worry! You will always have everything that you need."

"Dream lofty dreams, and as you dream, so shall you become."

i am reading these everyday. and maybe someday soon, i will share my dreams with you all. i am trying to dream again. because as i dream, i just may become.

changing life, changing schedule...

2010-11-03T17:55:00.000-05:00

returning to work has meant my time is going even faster.

i used to blog monday through thursday.

i am changing my routine.

i will blog tuesday, thursday, friday, and then saturday and/or sunday. it is the only way i can make blogging make sense.

i am off to make asian turkey meatballs. pray they turn out, and that matthew actually eats them.

autumn breeze...

2010-11-02T21:28:00.001-05:00

life has been whizzing right by me.

this whole, i had a baby and a c-section and returned to work and my boobs are swollen to double their normal size thing, is really throwing me for a loop.

i nearly missed my favorite season.

a jaunt to the pumpkin patch on saturday, and a hay rack ride in the glowy sun helped a little...

but today... i got out into the autumn breeze.

i breathed the crisp fall air, it smelled cool and clean. the sun shone bright, and warmed my face, while the cool breeze still nipped at my nose.

the colors of fall swirled at my feet, red and orange and yellow turning brown.

the crunching sound of the leaves underfoot was soothing and somehow relaxing.

the autmn does something to me. it rejuvinates me. it's a long breathe of fresh air after months of being stiffled and steamy.

and i almost missed it this year. omaha autumns last only days, and i almost missed it.

Autumn Movement by Carl Sandburg

I CRIED over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts.

The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper sunburned woman, the mother of the year, the taker of seeds.

The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes, new beautiful things come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind, and the old things go, not one lasts.

Autumn in Orilliaby
Franklin Charmichael

Autumnal Diorama by Raymond A. Foss

Early morning
Crisp Air

Gray ridged bark
Green lawn, leaf clutter underfoot

Wisps of fog off the pond

Green trees
Orange trees
Juxtaposed

Splash of sunlight

Clouds pasted
For accent

Backdrop of blue
Pure, unblemished, unbroken

Screens, curtains, stagesets
Transparency overlays

Layers placed
Scene set

questions continued...

2010-10-27T14:42:00.000-05:00

new moms get asked a lot of questions, it seems everybody wants to know what is going on with your new life...

yesterday i wrote the most common question i get. "are you tired?"

and really i am not. i was so tired and uncomfortable and a big bump on a log when i was pregnant, that i don't feel nearly as tired now as i did then.

i say i am half as tired and twice as hungry.

i am starving. all the time. i could eat all day long. when i was pregnant i didn't notice a hunge change in my appetite. i craved sweets, which regularly i don't really care for. but other than that, not a big change. post pregnancy, current nursing... i could eat a flippin horse. i want to eat steak everyday. and chicken nuggets. and great big leafy salads. and pineapple. and french fries. and frappucinos. and tuna. and ramen noodles. and jimmy johns sandwiches. and... well, you get it.

i also am asked, "what is the hardest thing about being a new mom?"

giving him a bath. hands down. and leaving him to go to work. everyone expects the answer to be middle of the night feedings, and sometimes that is annoying... but really, giving a baby a bath is hard. if i had 8 arms, it would be a little easier.

"are you nursing?" followed by, "how are your nipples holding up?"

can you believe people ask this? they do. i am nursing. he gets a bottle of formula a day, usually at night because it helps him sleep just a little longer. the only time i hate it is in the middle of the night when he wakes up screaming, and i am in the middle of a good dream, or a deep REM cycle. at that moment, i wish matthew had milk producing, hairless nipples, so he could feed him. but he doesn't. so i get up and feed him after whining for a second.

my nipples are just fine and dandy, thank you for asking.

now that i am working, twice during my shift i drive to the church parking lot up the road, pull out my hooter hider and my battery operated breast bump, and pump away. it's... interesting.

""how's matt doing with him?"

great. he loves him. he is very helpful to both me and asher.

"are your parents so excited?"

of course they are, have you ever met grandparents who aren't excited?

and the most shocking question i get, "are you ready for another one?"

seriously? you must be kidding me! my uterus is still engorged, and i have staples in my guts that haven't dissolved yet. i still haven't received all of my hospital bills. no. we are not ready for another one. and i don't think i will be for a long long long long long time. i hated being pregnant, and that c-section really did me in. in fact, i think next time we'll adopt. many many years from now, we will adopt.

question...

2010-10-26T21:26:00.000-05:00

everyone keeps asking me if i am tired...

not really.

i am half as tired and twice as hungry as i was when i was pregnant.

crying baby calls... i will be back.

black monday...

2010-10-24T21:18:00.000-05:00

tomorrow is the day.

i have to go back to work tomorrow.

i have been weepy all day. i can't imagine leaving asher, but right now this is our only option.

i will go back 2 days a week for a now.

he will be with my aunt tomorrow, and my mom on wednesday. i know he will be in good hands...

but still...

my heart hurts that i can not be here with him.

i knew this day was coming, i feel like i should have been able to prepare for it. but for 8 weeks i have hoped and prayed that God would open another door, that somehow my future would change, and i would not have to go... but i am going.

i am going wondering why he didn't open other doors, wondering why this prayer was not answered in the way i desired.

and i am finding little peace or consolation.

tomorrow will be my black monday.

my heart will ache all day.