Wins and Losses: A Year in Review

2010. It came. It happened. It went. I'm not sure what I was doing because it seems to have begun and ended in the time it takes to inhale. Here and gone in a breath. A small one.

I drew a t-chart to sort the year's main events into either a "win" or a "loss" category, but soon abandoned that process. Each "win" was won with a fair share of sacrifice and each "loss" has a continued, untold story. Our year can't be hashed out, dichotomized neatly into my pro/con lists. It's a little more messy than a t-chart will allow.

This year; I jumped into a too-deep-project at church that I fully believed in, we were continually confronted with scary news about our unborn son's heart, we had a baby (a living, well, wonderful baby), said goodbye to Pa (Nate's grandpa), bought a car, couldn't find summer employment, made new friends, found mold growing in the house, replaced studs, drywall, and carpet to eradicate mold, began a bathroom remodel, put the remodel on hold, hosted a marrieds community group, went to Disneyland twice, watched Nate's parents separate, Nate finished his Masters program at USD, Selah Grace learned to talk really well,we celebrated five years of marriage, Nate got chemical burns on his fingers, I got mono, and no one slept more than a few hours at a time.

In a one word summary, I would call our 2010 tiring. Nate would call it turbulent because it was full of so many ups and downs.

To be completely honesty, I've spent the last month or so just waiting for this year to be over. I keep telling myself that next year I will be more rested. That next year I will be able to go to the grocery without buying a superfluous tin of Pillsbury orange rolls, but forgetting staples like bread and salsa. Next year I will remember to floss daily and have fashionable hair. Next year I will be a kind and respectful wife. Next year I will finally keep all the balls in the air...Even though I know this is a tragic lie, for the past few weeks I've been putting off milk runs and clenching my teeth in the hopes that the calendar will liberate me from this funk I've been in since mono kicked my heels and my pride out from under me.

We don't have any resolutions this year. Just a general desire to be restored in every sense of the word. To regain health and not feel so hopelessly over-tired. To allow gratitude to overshadow all the other stuff.

So goodbye 2010. Thank you for the beautiful blessing of our son. But you were a hard year to us, 2010, and we are ready to be done with you and are thankful that 2011 is no longer on the far horizon, but has stepped forward to meet us in the present.

Eye Contact

Last night was unexpected. I had an hour and a half of time. Just myself. No agenda. No kids. I decided to take myself on a mini-date while I waited for Nate's soccer practice to end. Choosing to avoid the griminess of downtown where we were, I found myself driving over the bridge to that magical little island, Coronado, and followed my feet into Starbucks. A cinnamon-sprinkled caramel macchiato and a good book sounded scrumptious in every way. But it didn't happen.

I make eye contact with people in public. I say hello to checkers and baristas and exchange the usual niceties, but always try to make eye contact while doing so. A small action to affirm that person's dignity. I placed my order then zoned in on the leather chair that was going to coddle me for the next hour of my "me time". But I made eye contact.

Innocent enough at first. A lady asking me if I lived here, talking about how she's from Chicago. When she commented that Coronado seemed like a reasonably, financially accessible place to live the red flag went up. Two minutes more it was confirmed that she was completely off her rocker, possibly on drugs, but most definitely off meds. At first glance she didn't look homeless, but upon further review there it was: a rolling suitcase of all her possessions and dirty fingernails. She had years of hurt and hardness beating her metaphorically and physically.

It was uncomfy sitting there. Part of me wanted to hear how she went from being a healthy, intelligent woman with a job and a home and a car and a family to this homeless, crazy, on-drugs, off-meds person she is today. And the other part of me just wanted to snuggle further into my chair and read my Nook. So I sat there and listened and found myself sitting there nodding with a dumbfounded expression on my face and nothing to say, looking frantically across the table for the guy to get me out of this, jingling my keys in my hand, the universally understood social gesture of needing to leave. But I had made eye contact...

I did eventually make it to the car 45 minutes and a few rambles later. As I drove in search of a new dry, warm place to read I wondered what exactly a homeless woman was doing in a Starbucks in Coronado of all places. The reason, I decided, wasn't all that different from why I was there. To escape the griminess of downtown, to sit in a cozy chair in a warm place, to find a little beauty in the evening, and to continue a story.

A Different Kind of Gift

Four times in two days. That's my Target tally. Seriously. You shouldn't find yourself at Target for a fourth time in just two days anytime of the year, but most definitely not the week of Christmas. So even though I am certain to wake up realizing I forgot to get that one last thing, I am done. Instead I am trying something new this year. Giving a gift to someone that is really for someone else.

Instead of scurrying around a multi-level mall with a toddler and 7 month old in tow, feeling frantic and surrounded by frantic others who could use an extra swig from the cup of Christmas cheer, I am lounging on the couch. Regaining my clarity, sanity, and yuletide spirit by listening to the ever-so-Christmassy Coldplay and "shopping" online. But this isn't your typical Cyber Monday shopping. This is for gifts that give life and hope for others. Because really, there's nothing more Christmassy than Life and Hope!

Watch out. You just may get a goat from us this year!

charitywater.org

donate.worldvision.org

"I was filled with delight day after day, rejoicing always in his presence, rejoicing in his whole world and delighting in mankind." - Proverbs 8:30, 31

PER-SO-NAL-UH-TEEEEE

And here is my favorite succession of pics from our family photo shoot. I love how they so vividly capture our daughter's fun two-year-old personality. It was later in the day and by this point she was getting a little crazy, loopy!

Family Photo Shoot

Nate gave me the greatest Christmas present early - a family photo shoot. At a gorgeous place. With a super-talented photographer. Selah Grace definitely wins photo shoot MVP! (We did bribe her with a Chick-Fil-A ice cream cone, but mainly she's just an awesome two year old!)



Our photographer was friend, Katie Gardner. You can check her out here: katiegardnerphoto.com
And don't worry moms, you will get copies. We promise.

What did we learn from this?
1. Spending a wad of green on family pictures is 100% worth it! (To me at least. Nate probably has a different story.)
2. Take the shoot somewhere meaningful. The University of San Diego is where Nate and I met, became adults, fell in love, etc. and just happens to be gorgeous with a plethora of artsy areas that make for good photos. It's so fun to know the importance of the photo backdrop.
3. It's good to bribe small children to cooperate with special treats. But those are usually a mile and an hour away. Mini M&M rewards for obedience. That's even more helpful. Like puppy, like toddler.
4. Wear clothes you feel good in. I borrowed a few things for me and Selah to wear so we could feel cute and be weather-appropriate, because of course I was in the timeless feminine predicament of nothing (new) to wear. Nate wore his work clothes because he was thoughtfully dressing up, knowing how special these family portraits were for me. The negative of that is he looks alien to both of us. He is not a button-up-shirt type of guy. Next time we know that he should be in his Calle shorts and Sanuks.
5. Don't get your hair cut (a drastically different length) the day of the shoot. Girls, we all know this. I did anyway. That never ends well. So although I didn't love my hair I tried to remember the wise saying from one of the Hepburn girls about how a smile is the most beautiful thing a woman can put on.

A Friend Like Samwise

Although we've known each other for ten years, I love learning new things about my husband. This past week during our marrieds community group we were doing a simple icebreaker; if you could be any character from a movie, who would you pick? Nate's choice told a lot about his character. Out of all the glorified heroes and James Bonds found in Hollywood theater, Nate chose Samwise. Samwise Gamgee. Frodo's galumpy looking side-kick. Why? Because he is a loyal friend. A steady companion who will not turn back on a promise to help in the face of unknown danger and adversity. Samwise is there through it all to encourage, speak reason, and sometimes even physically carry his bestie, Frodo, along his journey. Even when the odds are terrifying. Even when he doesn't understand what's going on with his friend. Who doesn't want a friend like Samwise beside them? I'm thankful for mine.

Utility Knife: A Tool for Every Need

"You're the utility knife."

We all know not to compare. But...when you're surrounded by so many seemingly put together people it's hard not to. Through my eyes most of our friends have a clear understanding of what their very specific ministry is.

By contrast, I'm a dabbler. [dabbler: amateur, dilettante, layman, layperson; trifler, nonprofessional, nonspecialist] There is no one main target of ministry bursting forth from within me like a Care Bear stare beam of light illuminating what it is about to transform. I am involved in a number of things because I value them all and they all interconnect so strongly (marriage, motherhood, children) that I can't sever the lines of ministry between them.

Everyone else seems so sure about their very specific thing. Shouldn't I? But I don't.

It's good to have a straight-shooter husband. I verbalized my doubts to Nate and he reminded me that my desire and ability to jump into various arenas is not just okay, but needed. "You're the utility knife," he said. "People ask you to do lots of different things, because you get them done and can do them well."

It's good to be reminded that in the kitchen drawer of life there are tools for very specific purposes like the wine opener or the cheese grater, and then there is the utility knife that does a little bit of everything. I'm okay with that.

The Many Uses of Kotex

Selah, daughter after my own heart, enjoys a good interior design project. There's been a lot of parties the past few months between baby showers and birthdays and celebrating life with friends. Our home has been a joyous, colorful explosion of Martha Stewart pom-poms and flourishes of ribbon. Selah Grace has caught the decorating bug and embellishes our home with her unique touch.

Medium of choice? Kotex. Giant kotex. Pangea-sized, postpartum kotex. We find them lining the hallway like an absorbent, padded chair-rail and slapped onto bedroom doors.

Yes, it is strange. But Nate and I appreciate the blast of humor finding Selah's adhesive decorations around the house.

I prayed that God would bring a little laughter into our home right now while I'm sick and Nate's so busy. In response I got Kotex art from my two year old. Although it's weird, I think we'll leave them up for a while to remind ourselves to appreciate the joyful worldview of children and to laugh every once in a while.

Waving the White Flag

I battled. But it is time to surrender. I wave the white flag to the enemy I've been trying to keep at bay. I dug in obstinately. But now I'm seeing what peace is to be made in post-war negotiations.

My battle? Breastfeeding. Or breastfeeding a baby who prefers to eat from a bottle. Or breastfeeding a baby while wracked with mono. The logistics of pumping and bottle feeding were manageable. Only my pride wounded. Aren't babies supposed to want to breastfeed all day? Excessive water. Fenugreek. Strict pumping schedule. Fighting it.

The end of the war? My mono. It has completely done my body in. It takes food and fluids to support a healthy body and a healthy body to support a healthy breastmilk system. No input. No output. The science is that simple.

Here I am with the flag raised and a perplexed expression in the formula aisle.

A moment of silence for the loss of something I value that I can no longer give my son. Now facing forward and moving on.

Good reminder. Fill up before you give out. Otherwise...there's nothing left.

Modern Medicine

I am so thankful for modern medicine. And I'm so thankful for the people who use their God-given intelligence and intuition to use medicinal science. I'm sure that two hundred years ago I would be laying in bed with leaches on my body and an ornate nickel bowl under my wrist to get out the bad blood. Instead I'm being pumped full of fluids and pain relievers. Yes, modern medicine is a good thing.

There is one thing I respond to most at the doctor's office. Kindness. It sounds so simple, but can easily get overlooked in the name of efficiency. I have greatly appreciated the kindness of the nursing staff and doctors I've seen over the past week.



I have burst into tears instead of answers. I have thrust yellow legal pads under their noses when I couldn't talk. I have been a conundrum of non-rule-following symptoms. I have truly been all over the place physically and emotionally with them. But when they are kind it makes me feel like my illness is legitimate. Like it is fair for me to feel bad. Like somebody is going to move mountains until I am well.

A little kindness goes a long way.

In Sickness and For Worse

In sickness and for worse. That's where it feels like we are right now.

The good news is that I do not have chronic fatigue syndrome. Outlandish to even consider, you say? After two weeks of being continually wrecked and racked with TIRED, I was starting to consider the possibility. But it was only a quiet, distant whisper. I never said it out loud, because as we all know, verbalizing something makes it too real. Verbalizing something requires an active breath. Like the lips of God blowing into Adam's lungs; thoughts exhaled as words are given life and power.


The bad news is that I do have mono. Yeah, the middle school kissing disease. I have it. Exhaustion hit me one day. Two days later I was out with a horrible fever and I assumed I had some type of flu or virus. After a week of still feeling bad and waking up with a sore throat I was hopeful that I had strep. Yes, there is absurdity in hoping for strep throat. But there is also sanity. Strep is caused by bacteria and goes away with a few pops of antibiotics. Strep has an end.

Strep test. Negative. I mentioned my theory above and received a discourse on the dangers of taking antibiotics too often and how it isn't good for your body. Then the doctor told me I was just tired. Yes, doctor. I know I'm tired. I did not pay you to tell me that. There is something wrong with my body. I'm here for you to figure out what is wrong with me so I can start feeling better. (These were my thoughts.) At this point he launched into the benefits of 8 hrs uninterrupted sleep. And it was at about this point later that I sat staring at the arc of his cheekbones sobbing. Something is wrong, my body is telling me so. This man is telling me to do the one thing I physically can't do as a mom of a non-sleeping baby.
I dried up and left.

The right side and the left side of your throat should not touch the little dangly thingy in your mouth. But mine did so come Monday morning I found myself at my regular physician's office. After just a few seconds of looking at me and a few minutes of talking she called it. Mono. I did a follow up lab test with my blood to confirm.

Thank you, my regular doctor for: easily finding the correct diagnosis, saying that mono comes with "profound fatigue" (not the "you're just tired" business), taking away some of the guilt I've been feeling the past week about having a body too wrecked to produce enough breast milk for Josiah, telling me it is safe to take pain meds for my headaches, and that it is okay to not clean the house right now.

We're 2 weeks in. Another projected 4-6 weeks to go. I'm thankful to know this is going to be a while. I'm impatient so it's good to wake up knowing I'm going to be a distant shadow of my regular self instead of waking up frustrated. It's good for Nate to have these expectations too. In his words, I'm a "cranky,whiny, and needy" sick person. Yeah, I know.

In sickness and for worse. In mono and for cranky, whiny, needy.

Fall Visitors

My mom and stepdad, Lloyd, braved the long car ride from Oklahoma City to San Diego a few weeks ago. After a stop in New Mexico to visit friends and a stop at the Grand Canyon to be wowed by it's grandness, they arrived in our little corner of San Diego.

We enjoyed visiting with them. Selah Grace reveled in the delights of having a wider audience to share about her things and was also pleased to enfold them into her bedtime routines.

The kiddos at the pumpkin patch together.

Grandy and Selah making clay cookies at the Children's Museum.

Grandpa Lloyd and Selah drumming out beats on the elephant drums.

Some big kids playing on the big wheels contraptions!

Mmmm...grilled fish tacos in Point Loma!

Haste Makes Waste

Lately I've been examples #1 through 347 why this phrase is true. Frantic energy accomplishes nothing other than creating more situations to problem solve. My feeling a sense of urgency to give my kids an immediate response, to finally be on time somewhere, to maximize time and proceed with speed has only produced destruction this week. In an effort to make haste I made waste happen.

I:
...backed out of the garage...(before the garage door was fully open)
...dropped the coffee pot on the tile floor, shattering it to smitherings.
...forgot to pack a bottle nipple for Josiah's bottle, made a mad dash to store while out in order to get one, bought one, then found out after the store that it was the WRONG thing!
... forgot the grocery list and came home with kind of what we needed for the week

This morning a lady at the library commented on how calm I was while at story time with a baby strapped to my body and a 2yr old running around my feet. HA! If only she knew.

I don't like this hurried and harried business. I'm going to go back to taking it slow, most likely being late, responding to others when I can, and giving up the guilt about it. Any other way, I'm just building obstacles for myself to climb over. It's time to slow down.



If you must be in a hurry, then let it be according to the old adage, and hasten slowly. ~Saint Vincent de Paul

Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there someday. ~A.A. Milne

Josiah's 5 Months Old!

Happy 5 Month Birthday Josiah!

It's hard to believe we're here already. With Selah's birth it felt like our lives hit the eye of the storm; everything became eerily calm and for a short time life was muffled. With Josiah it doesn't feel like there was a break from "real life". There's been no time-outs and I'm sure the next time I blink I'll be sitting at his first birthday party wondering how we got there so fast.


Here's some of the things we love about 5 month old Josiah:
He gives us little baby face massages. When we hold him, Josiah enjoys smearing and squishing his fingers all over our cheeks, chin, lips, and noses. In the mornings, he's content to play in his crib for a little while as long as he has access to his feet which are his favorite toy! This kid is a snuggler and doesn't like to be alone in a room. Lately he's gotten pretty good at getting around by rolling front to back, then back to front and pretty much somersalts the entire breadth of a room. But most of all we love receiving his great big smiles!

Wait! What's Happening?

I wonder if I'll ever hit a parenting groove with the kids and get to ride that confidence wave for an impressive distance. Most likely not. It is some scientific law of parenting that as soon as you figure out the patterns and needs of your child, they change.

As Selah Grace is settling into being very TWO and Josiah is rapidly growing from newborn into new baby into baby, I'm constantly racing to catch up with the program and their needs. What do I do to figure it out?
1. I watch my kids. I chart things and look for patterns. I try to pinpoint a theme to what is happening so it can be anticipated and "cut off at the pass", if you will.
2. I read. Lots. When I don't know what's going on with one of them I spend their nap periods in the index of parenting books and blogs and try to find an answer. Even when there isn't an answer it is helpful just to know that you aren't the only parent to encounter this seemingly crazy thing. Support in solidarity.
3. I get anxious and uptight and then finally, slowly, I relax. I let it go. I enjoy my kids and their little needs and personalities and stop worrying so much about doing it the "right way". The benefit of reading so much is realizing there are so many schools of thought about parenting that there isn't one right way. There's just the right way for you and your family.

Favorite Baby Book:
Secrets of the Baby Whisperer. I love her. It's a good marriage of the Babywise stuff that is too strict for me (trying to follow BW made me feel like a crazy person) and the Sears stuff that I find too wishy-washy. I like her practical suggestions for firmly organizing your baby's sleeping and eating in a way that patiently parents them through it. Chat strands on her website are also super helpful too, if only for the moral support of parenting.

Favorite Toddler Book:
Nurture by Nature. This is a book based on the Myers Briggs personality spectrum. I'm 99.999% sure my toddler is an ISFJ (introverted, sensing, feeling, judging). This book gives an insightful look into how personality types expresses itself in kiddos and practical ways to address specific needs for that type. Seriously revolutionized my day-to-day moments with Selah.

Favorite Overall Parenting Book:
Boundaries with Kids. They should pass this book out at the hospital. Such a freeing book for parents to back away from the crazy instead of engage in it.

I'm taking any suggestions for good parenting resources if you have something you just love!

What's to Show For It?

There is much satisfaction from working hard and in return having something tangible and shiny to show for it. A trophy of sorts to affirm your efforts and say, "job well done".

When you're in the business of character and mind development of kids there is usually no way to measure the progress and worth of one day. As a SAHM and a math teacher, Nate and I had the following conversation this evening:

me the SAHM: I just feel frustrated that I'm managing them [our children] all day and working so hard at it and have nothing to show for it but a mess!

Nate the teacher: At least you get loved all day. I'm constantly managing ungrateful teenagers and all I have to show for it is three extra gray hairs.

Parenting. Teaching. These are jobs of endurance and hope. The daily battles for a long-term goal, progress benchmarks so gradual you can't see them in real-time.

When all we can see at the end of the day are dirty dishes and new gray hairs it's good to remember that proverbial drops in the ocean were made. We're in the long-term business of forming people.

All Little Girls Are Princesses

Shirley Temple knew. All girls are princesses. It is an intrinsic knowledge in little girls, I am certain. The knowledge that they are beautiful. That they are lovely. That they have power and influence. That they bring joy just by being alive. That knowledge just gets lost sometimes as princesses grow older and years of the world whispering otherwise makes them question or forget. It's fun to watch a two year old who still, undeterred by age, believes that princesses are beautiful. That she is a princess. That she is beautiful.

Selah Grace teeters and clomps down the hallway in plastic pumps that sparkle and light up. Every once in a while she just has to put on her tutu and wave her magic wand gleefully squealing, "magic, MAGic, MAGIC!"

This morning she climbed into our bed to show me the Snow White band-aid on her forehead, exclaiming, "Look! Snow White! Don't worry Mama! Her prince will come!"

This afternoon she asked Nate to draw her a prince and a princess together. When he did she joyfully declared, "The princess and the prince! He right by her! Her fream COME FRUE!"

Yes, we'll be encouraging her not to sit around and wait for a prince in life. But, yes, we'll be encouraging her to remember that she IS a princess. She is beautiful and determined. Powerful and influential. Lovely and wise and brings joy to the world simply by being in it.

I hope that she will remember that ALL little girls (including her) are princesses for a long time to come.

The Power of Choice

Choice. It's a powerful thing. Last year I attended a mommy session where a children's play therapist talked about positively disciplining children through offering them choices that are within the confines of your boundaries as a parent. I whole-heartedly believe this has saved our little family a slack-heap of stressful and frustrating situations.

Toddlers really want to be in control. (Something I absolutely understand!) But there is so little in the circumstances of their day they have any control over. If it were up to Selah Grace, Daddy would never have to leave for work and we'd spend every day building sandcastles at the beach. Now that you mention it, if Nate could have his way, that sounds about right....

Choices give a toddler a sense of autonomy and control of their world. I find myself continually spouting choice statements throughout the day to a little person who is still so new to life. Healthy life choices. Cause and Effect.

"Do you want to pick out an outfit for today or do you want mama to choose?"
"If you choose to scream over sleeping baby, then you choose a time out."
"It's okay to be upset, but hitting is not okay. You can choose to stomp your feet or choose to snuggle your pillow instead."

I think all of this empowering the toddler to be a respectful, helpful, empowered, self-thinker is working. Selah Grace has an absolute LOVELY disposition and is such a joy to parent. But lately I'm getting stuck on my choice statements. She's not even 2 and a half yet, but it feels like we're nearing 3, because most of the time she is too smart for her own britches and offers up a third way.

Example:
Mama - "It's time for lunch! Do you choose hotdog or a peanut butter and honey sandwich?"
Selah Grace - "Um...I choose CHIPS!"
Mama - "That's not one of the choices right now. You can have hotdog or a pb sandwich."
Selah Grace - "I want peabub bubbar and honeeeeeeey......umm....and CHIPS!"

So here we are. Just when I was getting the hang of choice statements and feeling good about them. Now we're navigating new territory together. Choice statements and compromises.

In the end she did have a pb sandwich...and some chips. Cassava chips. Because I'm the mama and even though in the end she has choices and compromises, I'm the one maintaining the boundaries.

But what to do when they choose to not choose your choices? What comes after the choices?

Sleep Nest

Selah Grace is a champion sleeper. She has been for quite some time. Recently we took the crib face off her bed and traded it for the toddler rail. Honestly we were avoiding this transition because we thought it was going to be a lot of work parenting her through it and we're tired. But she's a champ and the switch didn't wrinkle a feather.

I heard Super Nanny say that children shouldn't have any toys to distract them in their beds so they know their bed is for sleeping, not playing. Oops. These days Selah has turned her bed into a nest. She sleeps on top of and underneath mounds of treasures she has deamed as needing to be in her bed. Being the routine-driven, meticulously observant child that she is, Selah instantly knows what is missing from her bed when Mama tries to tidy up and requests them back until conditions are perfect.

It looks terribly uncomfy to me. I have to pull the sheet taught each night before getting in bed otherwise the slightest wrinkle keeps me awake. But it is her sleep nest and she loves it. I added up the items and it is shocking there's any room left for her!

Sleep Nest:
-2 adult pillows (reclaimed by her from Nate's side of the bed)
-1 throw pillow
- clean cloth diaper
- Cabbage Patch doll, Hallie Miriam
- footy pajama
- stuffed puppy
- stuffed kitty
- 3 blankies
- pacifier
- corduroy jumper
- stickers earned for potty training

Sorry, Super Nanny. It works for her. Since she sleeps 12 hours a night and takes 2-3hour naps, this Mama isn't going to fight it!

So, how's the bathroom remodel going?

It's not. Not at the moment anyway. It felt like the end was in sight. We finally found a vanity we both liked. Tile was all cut and in place. We agreed on a mirror and lived to tell the tale. As Nate was finishing grouting the shower tile he felt a weird sensation in his fingers. He was doing it with his hands, not the trowel because part of the shower is pebble tile and it is too bumpy. Weird sensation gave way to fierce burning and one urgent care visit later he was left with chemically burned fingertips and a great big grouting mess. Now we're waiting for his hands to heal so the work can resume. Bathroom remodel is not going according to plan, but isn't that the way remodeling goes? So maybe we're right on beat. We did learn one great thing from this unfortunate mess: urgent care co-pay is only $5! No ER trips for this family. That's the expensive co-pay. We're going to urgent care!

"I don't want to be the Wal-Mart mom!"

Thanks to my dear friend for that tag line after she ran 9months big pregnant after her 2yr old who was tearing down the road squealing with delight.

And just by reading the title you already have an image in your mind. Harried. Disheveled. Frantic. Demanding from their toddler, "Why!" Swearing up and down the blue and gray aisles that if kids don't behave soon they'll never see the light of day again!

Yeah. You know them. We judge them then give ourselves a mental pat on the back. We're Target moms.

And then...
* demure daughter is standing on top of the table in the public library screaming because it is fun to hear her own voice echo so loudly.
* what began as a simple request to put a toy away has turned into the next Waco standoff.
* the toddler is leaping/dangling out of the grocery cart while the newborn is screaming, and your purse just vomited all over the floor.
(true stories)

All of a sudden we feel like we should be wearing Faded Glory cut-offs and a great big banana clip.

No matter how put-together we try to appear as a mom, we all have those moments. The kids drank an extra dose of crazy juice and we're at the end. You can feel all eyes on you and how you are going to handle (or not handle) this discipline situation. The crazy part of your brain is swearing up and down those red aisles that this is the last time you'll ever attempt an outing again and the sane part is snorting in disbelief that you mom, yes you, turned this situation into a beast. Did it really need to be?

What I want to know is this: when do you dig in and when do you give in?

The Happiest Place on Earth

Last week my family came out to visit: Dad, BK, Skye, Brandon, Sarah, and Issy. Together we attempted the crazy; Disneyland. One Day. Six Adults. Four Kids. Here's some pictures to tide you over until our old, tired computer rests up enough for imovie to work.

Self-portrait on the way out. Selah and Josiah both passed out in stroller by this point.

Sweet Thing got to dance with Princess Tiana (her favorite Disney princess) in New Orleans town!

Skye, Issy, and Josiah chilling in Storybook Land.

My dad with Josiah.

Dad, BK, and Skye about to get their innards loosened on the Matterhorn!

Brandon and Sarah entering It's A Small World. Last time she was on it, the ride broke down and got stuck for 30 minutes. We're all thankful that didn't happen again!

Disneyland post part B to come with video as soon as our computer cooperates.

Numbered Conversations

Nate and I keep having the same conversations. Whether the byproduct of being best friends for almost ten years or the hazard of falling into the same cycles, I don't know. Last week we decided to just save each other's time and frustration by giving these common interactions numbers. The following conversations always start the same way, usually have the same middle, and rarely find a new ending.

# 1a: Where are my keys?
# 1b: Where are my sunglasses?
#6: Please change lanes out from behind this ridiculous driver.
# 12: Please pull the sheets taught.
#4: What do you want to do tonight? Play a game? Make out? Watch a movie?

We've been trying this out for a week now and it's working very well for us! This system is at least making otherwise irksome times lighthearted and buffers the annoyance of these very familiar, necessary, but banal conversations in a partnership.

A Good Pair of Shoes is a Relationship

This is the shoe I thought I wanted.

In the end, this is the shoe that was always mine.

Shoes aren't just shoes. They're a relationship. Finding the right pair of shoes is like finding your partner. It takes an open mind and some dedication.

This week for my birthday Nate bought me (and a kid in Argentina) a pair of Toms. I thought I knew what I wanted. I had the style and model all picked out ahead of time. I did all the appropriate research and created a list of justifications for why this pair was the perfect pair for me. In an amalgamation of anxious/nervous/eager anticipation I entered the store ready to meet my new shoes. I slid into them and....the etherealness of the shoes I had built up in my head were not what were pinching my feet. This pair of Toms were cute, but canvas material and abrasive to my achilles. These clearly were not the ones. Okay. Next pair. Black with little stripes and an inspirational, chic phrase, "Love is the new black." After a test walk around the store the left foot was flapping like an awkward swim flipper. Since the establishment wasn't interested in selling me two different sizes (6.5 for my right and 6 for me left) to make a complete set, we moved on to another shoe. Many styles and many size trials later, we found each other. Shoe relationship bliss.

The best relationships are reciprocal. You don't just choose a shoe. A shoe chooses you.

Thedoro What? Thedoro Wot!

We travelled to Africa this week, but it didn't take a grueling two day trek to get there. Ten minutes was all it took to park our car at 50th and El Cajon Blvd and pass through the steel screen door that acts as a space and time continuum into the southern hemisphere. Awash Ethiopian. What a lovely secret of the City Heights community!

Nate and I felt like we had teleported to Africa. The air in there is thick. "How does it smell like Africa?" I exclaimed to Nate as we settled into our chairs. It smelled like cooking flour and woven baskets and hot. Yes, there is a smell to hot. Even though our cokes came directly from the refrigerator, they were slightly warm and flat, gloriously tasting like every coke we had while living in Africa.

Service was indifferent to timeliness. Food was amazing. Our fingers smelled like thedoro wot many washes later. Nate and I felt like we had discovered a secret in this place and also had re-entered a secret in our marriage that only we can share and know. Our lives in Africa seem so far away some days. It's good to know that we can bring it to the forefront and sweat in the thickness of it with just a short drive and a long roll of injera.

Bars on the windows made us feel right at home.

Giraffe wood carving curio? Yes, please.

Mmmmm....looks awful. Tastes SO good!

Little girl. Big plate of food! Josiah's sleeping in his sling under the protection of the napkin from my spicy, spice.

Happy Birthday Josiah!

Josiah: The Lord heals.
Benjamin: son of my right hand.
Leboffe

Our little man is 3 months old today! Full of hair. Full of life. And most recently, to the delight of his parents, full of giggles! Although big sis gets the most smiles out of him. To the thrill of my heart...he slept. through. the. night last night! Here's to hoping he makes that a habit! As to his "heart problem" the doctors scared us with, everything is good. Josiah is thriving. The human body is an amazing thing. As Josiah is growing, the narrow valves in his heart are growing into the normal range and his heart has figured out pumping blood efficiently and productively even with his extra plumbing. We love this boy!

Spontaneous Comments

Quick and quiet wit abound in my husband. But, to his disappointment, I don't always laugh. Sometimes I just don't think things are funny. Sometimes I simply don't understand the joke. But usually I delay response while I try to figure out if he's serious or not, such is the subtlety of his humor. You would think that after 9 years of friendship, 8 of that being "relationship", and 5 marriage, I would know better. Nope.

Even so, I appreciate that Nate makes me laugh. Don't sit behind us in church. Nate will most likely make a hushed comment that makes me blurt an inappropriate chortle. Not just funny. Hilarious. Rib-splitting, pee-your-pants, painful funny.

I admire that he is witty in the moment and doesn't need hours to formulate "what I should have said" (my route).

Example A:
Nate: "Reading?"
Jenny: "Yeah, but I really want to write something. But I don't know what it is yet. I have this desire to create something spontaneous and new. I feel like there's something in me that I need to let out."
Nate: "Are you sure you don't just need to go to the bathroom?"

Yep. There's my husband. He's not the loud guy at the party, but he can roll in some enjoyable comments if you're quiet enough to listen....and smart enough to understand.

This Week of Summer

This week of summer we haven't done too much. Nate is plugging away at the bathroom remodel. Selah is on a "nakey" campaign during this heat. Josiah is sleeping, smiling lots, and doing his tummy times like the great 2 month old that he is.

Coronado beach!

Finger Painting!

Josiah's a little frightened of his play mat. Selah likes laying there with him and playing together.

Bathroom Remodel

Nate is one of those amazingly talented people who can teach themselves to do anything: speak Spanish, play guitar, play piano, cook, and most recently, carpentry.

We have two bathrooms in our home. Short version of a long story: pipe backed up, overflowed into shower in bathroom we haven't been using, discovered ickyness by finding mold/mildew along baseboard of adjoining guest bedroom.

Nate is becoming a self-taught carpenter. This past week he deep cleaned any mold/mildew area, replacing dry wall, carpeting, carpet padding, baseboards, and paint as needed. He also demoed the bathroom. This is what it looks like now! Soon to be even more bare.

This project has reinforced what we've already known about ourselves; just how different we are. Mainly, how differently we make decisions. Nate wants time to think about it, then choose one and go with it. I want to see, feel, imagine all possibilities; always leaving the door open to new options that we might like better. He wonders aloud how I ever make decisions and move on in life. I wonder aloud how he doesn't have a positive or negative energy in response to shower tile colors and handle shapes.

We do life differently. We know it. We embrace it. And it usually isn't a problem...until home remodeling. We're trying to remember the phrase, "Not wrong, just different."

Not wrong! Just different!

What we do know for sure is that tomorrow we need to take a break from all this and just go enjoy being friends at the beach!