Laundry!

Now, normally I wouldn't condone placing pictures of my old panties up on the internet, but this was too funny. While I was folding clothes, Selah thought she found the most beautiful necklace/bandana ever and wore it all afternoon bursting with pride.

Coronado Beach: Fresh Air for Every Soul

There's nothing quite so wonderful as sinking into the sand at Coronado Beach and just allowing yourself to BE. Inevitably we arrive grumbling about finding somewhere, ANYwhere to park. Schlepping toward the water we resemble something more like diseased alpacas under the bulges and bags of our "essential" beach gear. But each time we go, there is a glorious moment when we dig our toes in the sand and allow the sea breeze to splash against our cheeks. In that moment the seat belts around our nerves are unbuckled, letting us breathe a little easier and allowing us a chance to get comfy in ourselves again. 

Although this wasn't Selah Grace's first trip to the beach it WAS her first time playing in the sand. She absolutely loved it. Felt it. Dug it. Delicately licked it. Not-so-delicately ate fistfuls of it. Piled it. Marvelous, marvelous sand!

Sorry for making you crank your head sideways to watch. Lesson learned: must take video holding camera in traditional manner. But still cute!

Fear of Abandonment

After the fourth time I thought that I was going to snap. Impatient back again. But somehow, as I put a heavy hand onto my screaming baby's back I was filled with compassion, not irritation. Selah was having a hard time falling asleep that night. Nano-seconds away from sleep, she would suddenly be filled with the overwhelming anxiety that she was ALONE. Wild flails for a body to give a reassuring touch. Sudden fearful wails. All her way of asking, "Are you there? I need you!" 

Again my hand reached into the crib to stroke her head and her back. As she was comforted into sleep I was overcome with the similarities between her interaction with me and the way I interact with God. How many times has God tried to take care of me? How many times have I resisted what was in my best interest? How many times did I flail and become distraught with fear, convinced that I was abandoned, pleading, "Are you there? I need you!" In my distress God hears. Rushes in AGAIN. Places a hand over me. And I can sleep. 

Some House Pictures

Selah's Room

Library/Guest Bedroom

Dining Room

The Backyard Tree and Deck

The Living Room

The Family Room

514 Palmwood Dr.

I love San Diego addresses. Just reading them sounds like a vacation. Our new home. 514 Palmwood. It is 4 bedroom, 2 bath, open floor plan, and has a sweet little backyard. The most salient aspect of the late 60's home is the popcorn ceilings in the living room and hallways. The most refreshing feature is the surprise of a backyard. There isn't a large lawn, but there is a cool climbing tree, a deck on the side of the canyon, and a little porch that is begging for some konde furniture to create a second outdoor living room. This is a magnificent first home for us and although it is slightly crusty around the edges and in need of a few happy plants and new coats of paint, it has already transformed into our home. We love living here together as our little family. We love hosting marrieds community group here. After so many years of living places where we were fearful of hanging pictures lest we didn't get our deposit back, we are enjoying the freedom of carelessly sloshing our personality around. And as soon as I find that camera of ours, I'll put some pictures up for you to see. I think the diaper bag ate it!

Happy Birthday

It's been a year and what a year it has been! Parenting is life's ultimate crash course. Somehow time feels more like a folk tale trickster than a trusted constant. Sometimes we feel like it has only been a few days since we were driving to the hospital to give birth. Other times we feel like life before parenthood was eons ago, whole separate lifetimes away. It feels like both. 

Selah is one year old and such a little person. She is both opinionated and full of laughter, stubborn and melt-your-heart sweet. Although we can't understand her exact words yet, we understand the cadence and meaning of what she is telling us and we look forward to the coming months when we get to hear her little babbles turn into recognizable phrases. Until then, we'll keep enjoying the continual babble. 

Happy St. Pat's!

Although St. Patrick's Day doesn't really have any significant meaning for us, like most Americans we'll jump in any party parade to celebrate. So we wore green and spoke with atrocious fake Irish accents, which somehow closely resembles a Southern drunken pirate. Big apologies Pam Forster, our true Irish friend!

Hospital Hoorays!

It was sometime during the second desperate dialysis treatment (after the doctors had told me to steel myself for the worst, after they had replaced as much blood as possible in his system, after they had scraped me off the linoleum floor when I passed out upon receiving such overwhelming news) that I realized there WOULD be an after. Now, here we are in it. Nate and me living in our not-so-perfect-but-pretty-incredible-happily-ever-after. Celebrate with us. The hospital payed for roughly 80% of the bill and after three years of paying the 20% left, our account is settled! We do not owe the OU Medical Center one cent! Praise the Lord!

Thanks Rachael Ray!

Most of you know that I'm more of one to eat, not cook. In fact, Nate cooked almost every meal for the first three years of our marriage. I err on the side of perfectionist. That doesn't mean I do everything perfectly, not even close. That just means that I get mad if I can't do something well. Cooking is one of those things that always seemed to end up a disaster, even when I tried. Especially since I tried, and failed (repeatedly) I didn't enjoy doing it. It taunted me and I cursed at its burnt edges. However, now I'm starting to get back! Thanks to Rachael Ray and a determination to triumph in the kitchen I have made more than one good meal lately. So thanks Rachael Ray, put a fork in it! There is a future for food on my dinner table at last! 

Mama, the Multitasker!

Mutlitasking, so it is said, is a skill that has been passed down and mastered by moms through generations. I was hit with this reality anew earlier this week when I found myself straddling my kitchen from counter to counter. With one hand over the stove I was attempting to make spaghetti squash bolognese ala Rachael Ray style. Stretching across the counter with the other I was pumping breast milk for the 18lb legwarmer who was using my shin as her newest chew toy. The funniest part of that moment was my realization that although slightly ridiculous, multitasking just comes naturally.