Week

Have you ever had one of those weeks where you're so tired that you can barely remember your gender?

Grocery Store Mayhem

Here's the Seinfeldian-like dirt on my thought life in the grocery store on the most holy of food-buying days: Saturday.

The Rascal Situation:
To pass or not to pass the disabled person who keeps stopping and starting at random intervals, thus causing traffic buildup.

I'm thinking: "Okay, here I go... I'm easing slowly past her and... D'oh! She zoomed ahead. Okay, she's stopped. I'll try again... easing, easing... Oh, for the love of Pete, lady... let me by!"
What I really said: "Pardon me, could I squeeze by?" accompanied by friendly smile, albeit forced.

The Driving Situation
I'm driving my cart at a steady pace down a main aisle and nearly miss being broadsided by thirty-something gentleman who is trying to race around the store to get in and out as fast as he can.

What I'm Thinking: "You don't come around here often, do you? It's Saturday. It's busy. Get used to it."
What I Do: Smile pleasantly and stop for exaggerated period of time to emphasize how fast he was going. He doesn't notice.

The Seemingly Abandoned Cart Sitting in the Middle of the Aisle So No One Can Pass Without Moving It
What I'm thinking: "It's like driving... you drive on the right on the road... do likewise in the grocery store."
What I Do: I move the cart slowly. I'm tempted to relocate it to another aisle.

The Rude Dude
You know the one. You're clearly looking at the cereal aisle and someone parks their cart directly in front of your gazing face.

What I Do: "Oh hey, could I squeeze by? I'm looking at that cereal."

The Indecisive One
They can't decide between Vanilla Bean or Plain Vanilla Ice Cream. They stand in front of the freezer door for 5 minutes in an act of territorialism.

What I Do: The great fake out. I pretend like I was looking at something else. It makes them choose more quickly. If they know someone is waiting, they'll pretend to take longer. This strategy works 90% of the time. They see that I want something else, quickly decide what they want and I swoop in for the cream. If they keep squatting, I ask if I can butt in.

So there you have it, my dirty little grocery store secrets. And these aren't even Costco tactics. That's another animal. :)

"I'm Ready for Church!"

Nine Barrettes. Nine.

Morgan

Morgan: "Mom! What color is my tongue? Is it white? I ate snow."

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Dinner last night: Morgan kept renaming her lasagna.

"Dad, I can't eat my yo-sagna. I don't like it."

"Please don't make me eat my basagna."

And then...

"I can't eat anymore. It's not use. It's not use."

Emily: (Laughing) "Are you trying to say 'It's NO use?'"

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One Animated Daughter Tells This Story About Her Tight Headband:

"Mom, this headband is nice and tight. It's very strong. If a wind came, it would say, (deeper voice here) 'That headband sure is strong. I think I will have to go to another headband. This one will not come off.'"

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A Morgan Story:

"Once there was a little girl named Susie with two black eyes. One of her eyes hopped out of where it was supposed to be. Susie ran after it but she couldn't see where she was going. A man found it and gave it back to her. The End."

Welcome

Boy am I blessed. Two wonderful friends gave me wonderful news last week. You remember the news from Kathryn. But did I tell you about Sarah?

My friend Sarah had a beautiful baby boy on Thursday morning. And I mean beautiful. Every time I look at this precious child I get a goofy grin on my face and feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Sarah and her husband Jason have two other beautiful boys. I can see these young men being heartbreakers in the near future. For now, they're just vase breakers. haha.

Welcome, Lincoln David. Sleep in heavenly peace.

Thank God

"Weeping may remain for a night, but joy comes in the morning." Psalm 30:5

Good news. My friend Kathryn called yesterday. After long periods of fertility trouble, and with the help of IVF, she is pregnant.

Pregnant.

My dear friend who has never been able to say those wonderful words, "I'm pregnant", said them so quietly and peacefully that it was hard to catch.

Normally I scream and yell with joy when I hear those words, but this time was different.

I wasn't somber, but it was a little sobering to know that God, once again, had fooled the despair in our hearts and brought redemption. I congratulated her and marveled at how quietly joyful both our hearts were.

Pregnant.

Kathryn and Jerry- May this little one (or ones!) grow to be big, juicy babies who love God, follow mercy and seek truth. Congratulations. Many congratulations.

Morganisms

Morgan: "Mom, do you know the hokey pokey?"

I'm taken aback. Didn't know she knew it.

She clarifies: "You know? You puts your foots out?"

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Morgan: "Mom, your hand is really soft."

I'm rubbing her soft cheeks with my hand.

Morgan: "Mom, your cheeks are soft."

Now she is rubbing my cheeks.

Morgan: "But Daddy's cheeks are NOT soft. They are... (she pauses)... soddy. 'Soddy' means that they are not soft like you and me."

Morgan loves to make up words and sound official. Rarely will she ask me for the right word for what she is trying to say.

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About a month ago, Morgan asked if she could feel my heart beating. (More accurately, she asked if she could feel my heart "beeping", but that's beside the point.)

I felt it would be, um, "odd" if I let her feel where my heart is. It's hard to feel it beating beneath the tatas, you know? Instead, I put her fingers on my neck so she could feel it beating there. "See? My heart is beating." Nice strong pulse.

I thought I was helping her by showing her that my heart, too, beats like hers. Instead she thinks her heart is in her chest and my heart is in my neck. I don't have the explanation for why I had her feel my neck instead of my chest in the first place. *sigh*

At least school will correct everything I teach her, right?

S.A.D., S.A.D., Go Away

Does anyone else get S.A.D. in the winter?

I haven't been officially diagnosed, but it doesn't take an M.D. to ask, "So, do you feel really moody and sad without a reason in the long, dark winter days?"

I'm hesitant to go to a doc because I'm afraid I would snap, "DUH! Who doesn't get downright dumpy in this sorry excuse for a season?" Grace and diplomacy go out the window.

(I did obtain a sunlamp a year or so ago which does make some difference in my outlook on life; I do recommend it for my northern-bound friends who suffer similarly.)

Well, back to my story: I found myself mentally complaining a lot. I won't divulge my ungrateful thoughts because, well, that would only get you down as well.

But then I read a really touching article on Yahoo. A Saudi couple have been told that their marriage of several years has been annulled. The oldest child (2 yrs.) has been separated from the parents; the younger one has been allowed to stay with the mother. In jail.

The wife's family has caused this stir; apparently Saudi women need the permission and authority of their family to wed.

The wife is now still under some form of incarceration, but is holding out hope that the king might pardon her.

As for her love of her husband, she says: "I love him more than ever. He's the only one who has stood by me," she said.

As I considered my unfulfilled desires and shallow wants, I reframed my thinking:
I can hear my husband tinkering away at his brew station down in the basement.
What a great guy. I'm crazy about him.

I can hear my curmudgeon daughter playing in the tub.
I can't help my grin when she says "helfy" for "healthy".
She's been so funny and somewhat naughty all day, but boy she makes me laugh.

I'm in a warm home and I have freedom of religion. To some, these needs are not met.

In the end I realize, the only thing imprisoning me are my thoughts.

I still recognize the seriousness of S.A.D., but I'm going to fight it with more than my sunlamp.

Hope

This week something very special came in the mail.

Hope.

I didn't think it was possible for hope to be tangible. Truth be told, I had convinced myself that hope was a mind game, something to wrestle with in my noggin.

Naturally, you're wanting to know what I'm talking about.

I received a blanket.

My mother hand knit a baby sized blanket. She sent me the label from the wool she bought. It's Merino Wool. Dry clean only. A bunch of other care instructions follow. But it's more than fibers strung together in intricate fashions.

First of all, it's beautiful. From a distance, it looks like a neutral colored small blanket. Up close, however, it has every imaginable color inside... reds, pinks, oranges, blues. They're all very soft colors, not garish and loud. You can't help but feel happy looking at it.

Next, it's hand made. Just for me. My, did I feel special. My mother included a note saying that as she knit it, she prayed for our future child. We're not pregnant, so she did so with, well, hope. Faith, too. She asked me to use the blanket as a sign of hope. She wanted me to know that while she could not be here, she very much wanted to be, so I should hug the blanket when I lost hope or missed her hugs. I certainly will.

Most importantly, this blanket is tangible evidence that I am not alone.

At this point, I'd like to publicly say thank you to Kris Wise and Sarah Short, who generously sent me a gift certificate for a spa treatment earlier this summer. At first, I didn't want to blog about it because I didn't want them to feel that others would expect the same. But now I see that they just wanted me to know that I'm not alone either. What great friends.

*sigh*

Again?

I know what you're thinking: "For the love of Pete, will she never learn?" Apparently. This is what happens when I leave the room and tell Morgan to put cocoa in our cups. It's the sprinkles episode all over again but with different media.
Note to my mother: Please, please move to Chicago.
Note to my father: See? I can't possibly watch Oprah and sit on my haunches all day.

Morganisms

"GO"

"PSTO!"

Morgan would be great at a lot of things. Making traffic signs is not one of them. :)



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Emily: "Morgan, do you remember the beach?"

Morgan: "Yep. But you gotta wear sunscream or else the sun will burn you."

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Morgan to Dan: "Daddy, are you going to the Bruise Shop?"

Huh?

Oh wait... Dan keeps talking about his brewing and going to the "Brew Shop". We better get that one corrected before DCFS calls.

Sprinkles Glutton

Well, I'm back on my feet. After a weekend of sickness, I'm eager to get the "funk" out of my house.

Morgan was instrumental in getting me back on my feet as well. Observe the photo: This is what happens when you tell your 4-year old that she can put sprinkles on her oatmeal all by herself.



I knew better than to leave the room. *sigh* Silly Morgan.

2007

You know Juno?

Tonight is "date night" for me and Dan. I arranged for a babysitter so we could go for dinner and movie.

I've been dy*ng to see the movie Juno. It's been getting rave reviews, and not just from critics either. All manner of low and high brow audiences really like this flick for its script, plot and acting.

I've seen just about every trailer for this movie.
I've read a bunch of reviews, too.
And, in an act of impatience, I went to moviespoiler.com and found out the ending.

In my defense, I've been ready to see this movie for two months. Dan and I planned to see it at Christmas vacation in Iowa, but it only plays in select theaters. Apparently they don't deem the corn fed as worthy of its story. Then, I tried to arrange for a babysitter last week, but these youth have lives and, well, can't do sitting on a day's notice.

I arranged for a babysitter for tonight. I've been thinking about it all week. All I want is to have a Turkey sub at Potbelly's followed by some greasy popcorn while watching Juno.

It must be too much to ask, however. It appears that I have developed tonsilitis. That's right... tonsilitis. Do you also have visions of 1950s children sitting in small rows of hospital beds eating ice cream after their tonsil surgery? Doc asked if I get this a lot. I assured him that this was my first occurence; no surgery for me, please.

I did notice, however, that the doctor moved swifty and noticeably to the other side of the room after examining my throat.
Note to self: You are contagious.
He then informed me: "Well, your throat is pretty awful."
Second note to self: Dang!

After being discharged, my first thought was: Can I still see "Juno" tonight? Technically I could still go, but I risked infecting the moviegoers. Strangely, that did not bother my conscious. They'd never know who gave them the ouchy esophagus, I reasoned. But when I thought of our dear, sweet babysitter, I thought better of it. Better cancel.

Currently I am realizing the ridiculousness of my efforts in keeping our date. I keep having hot and cold flashes. I am presently clad in not one but two sweaters, one of which is an authentic Irish cable knit (wicked warm), in an effort to fend off the chills. It's working. Even if I DID feel well, I look every bit the nerd I did in sixth grade, the year that fashion skipped. Dan probably wouldn't want to be seen with me. Heck, I wouldn't want to be seen with me.

I sound like a frog. I look like a flood victim. And I feel like someone took a dremel to my throat. But Dan has still offered me a date night. It will be in bed with lots of flannels, clear fluids to drink and Puffs tissues. I may have a red nose and clear my throat periodically like a machine gun, but it will still be fun.

As for you, Juno... next week?

How Old is Jesus

Morgan: "Mom, how old is Jesus?"

Emily: (gulp) "Um, well, Jesus doesn't have an age."

Morgan: "Is he 6?"

I recalled that we just told the story of the birth of Jesus over and over again in December. We emphasized that Jesus was a real historical figure.

Morgan kept asking.

Emily: " Well, Jesus doesn't have an age. He's forever."

Morgan: "Oh, he's older? Is he 24?"

Emily: "No, sweetie."

Morgan: "25?" (That's her idea of ancient. hehe.)

You're smart, Morgan.

Tea Party

Morgan: "Order up!"

Morgan has cut apples into 1/2" cubes with her new (child sized and child-friendly) knife that came with her tea set. She wants me to come to the table.

As I drink the "tea" (water), I tell her "It's delicious!"

"It's good for your poopies, too!" she informs me. We'll work on conversation topics for tea parties later.

I finish the walnut sized cup of tea in a few sips so as to not offend her efforts.

"Care for some more?" she asks. At first I decline, but then I realize that it's not about the tea, it's about her acting independent, hosting a tea party. It's about her pouring things. It's about her hearing the clink of her faux china as she carefully pours another cup. I oblige.

Just another day with a daughter.

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This post is dedicated to my pregnant friends who may be expecting a daughter. :)

Exercise

I like to exercise. More accurately, I like the feeling I get after I exercise.

I usually like to run, but
1. It's wicked cold outside (this week excepting)
2. I don't have a treadmill

Soooooo... I found this walking video for indoor use; another blogger recommended it. Leslie Samsone is the instructor and it was pretty cool.

The best part was that I could do these movements in my living room and Morgan could accompany me or not. Usually I try to exercise alone when she is watching Sesame Street. But as we did this video together, I realized a bonus benefit: Morgan was learning to take care of her body. Very cool.

There were a few setbacks to working out with a 4 year old. Allow me to indulge you:

"Mom, I want a pony tail, too. A big pony tail."

"Mom, now my pony tail is too tight. I want a pony tail on the top of my head instead."

"Mom, I want to take off my sweatshirt like you."
She kept modifying her outfit to look exactly like the women on the tv.

And she also gave me some pointers: "Mom, you need to put your hands on your hips. Like this."

I give the workout a "B+". It was a good use of time. I never thought my daughter and I could exercise side by side at this age. What a wonderful surprise.

Fertility Tales

For over a year I have been praying regularly for 4 people in my life. Four couples, I should say. They are four friends who have been having fertility issues.

Some have had miscarriages.

Some have not been able to conceive at all.

Some have had other health problems.

But this year, I have received some beautiful news.

- One couple who had other health problems which prevented them from conceiving wrote to tell me that they're expecting in the spring. The wife wrote me an email that was almost apologetic b/c she knew our situation. "Are you kidding?" I wrote her. I was giddy with excitement.

- Another couple received news that they've been approved to be a case study in IVF. Their out-of-pocket expenses would be about $2,000 instead of $10-20K. Which they didn't have. But God provided. Wow.

- Most recently, another special couple emailed me to tell me that they are starting the process of adopting. I wasn't even thinking about that option for them. What a beautiful end to their fertility troubles. I had trouble sleeping that night, I was so overjoyed for them.

I don't know about the fourth couple. They are a couple that I hardly talk to, but felt compelled to add to my prayer list.

But in the end, whether by natural means, adoption or medical intervention, I'm hopeful for them to become parents.

"Weeping may remain for a night, but joy comes in the morning."
Psalm 30:5b

GOOD MORNING!!!!!!

5:15am.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK on our bedroom door.

Morgan: "MOM! DAD! I NEED TO TELL YOU SOMETHING."

I was in a comatose state of sleep. All I can remember was that she thought something was funny and wanted to share it. She's SO like her daddy. Loves funny stories. Loves to be social. Doesn't heed the normal hours of "talking".

I grew up with basic rules of morning conversation. It was never written, but it was heeded. It went something like this:
- When greeting someone in the morning, do so gently and quietly. A simple "Good morning" will suffice.
- Do not engage is deep, detailed or aggressive conversation for 30 minutes.
- Avoid eye contact.
- If you must engage in conversation, gently crescendo to heavy news. Do not talk loudly, quickly or in too detailed of a way.
- Most importantly: If you sense that a person you wish to speak to is not ready to engage in talk, retreat. Recall that butterflies which are forced out of their cocoon by others do not live. Therefore, do not force people out of their morning cocoon or you'll get a mean caterpillar.

My husband and daughter subscribe to other morning routines. It goes something like this:
- Get up
- Plunge headfirst into day
- Do not stop until bedtime

Regarding my initial story: I did tell Dan this weekend that I wanted to get up earlier and have a quiet time together before the day started. I wanted us to have some time of prayer and talking. Quiet talking. I pictured those gentle photos of a couple enjoying some coffee in bed as the sun rises. I pictured smiles and laughing.

I hadn't anticipated a dawn-social 4 year old who had napped a tad long the day before and had somehow banked enough sleep that she could wake up pre-sun. There was no way to get her back to bed. So Dan read stories to her. In our bed. I spent the time examining the back of my eyelids while I listened in a horizontal fashion. I longed for a "volume" control on my daughter.

But... and this is a big but... I'm really glad that Morgan loves mornings. And I'm really glad that I have a husband who can take a dawn shift of reading stories. And even though I can't remember one iota of this morning's happenings, I could feel the presence of my two wonderful (and morning-etiquetteless) family members. One day, Dan and I will be an old couple in a quiet creaky house and there will be no 5 am wake-up calls.

Meanwhile, farewell quiet mornings. I'll see you in 50 years.

Overheard

In the car conversation:

Emily: "I'd better be careful how I drive. There's some policemen behind me."

Morgan: "Yeah. And we don't like policemen."

Gulp.

Emily: "Um, why do you say that, Morgan?"

Morgan: "Because they take us to jail. They're only nice to their own kids."

Emily: (Stifling an embarrassed laugh) "Um, well, actually policemen make sure that we're safe. They're good. Not bad."

Perhaps she recalls a few times Mommy and Daddy were pulled over in the past couple of years. Ooops.

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Morgan: "Dad, what's a 'vacation'?"


Time for a family vacations.

Chatterbox

Scraps of conversations from my little chatterbox:


Morgan: "Mom, you're just 'clunging' me."

Emily: "'Clunging?' What does 'clunging' mean?"

Morgan: "It means 'ignoring'."


My, she loves words. Just like her daddy.
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Emily: "I don't believe it."

Morgan: "It's the truth, Ruth."

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Pronunciation:

Emily: "Morgan, what bird did we learn about today?"

Morgan: "The Bartima Oriole"

(Baltimore Oriole... that's a toughy!)

Whatever is Good

Philippians 4:8
New American Standard Bible (©1995)
Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things.

Okay, I lied. I do have a New Year's Resolution. I want to be a more positive person. I want to think about positive things. I want to talk about them and dwell on them. That's my goal. It's been one day.

This doesn't mean that I won't tell news that is negative. It does mean that I will see the humor or the truth in it. And I'll always be a bit of a design snob, but I'll try to curb that.

I really respect people who see the "brighter side of life". My experience has shown that these people are not deluding themselves to seeing life through the cliché rose-colored glasses. In fact, many of my optimist friends have been through a great deal in life and still refuse to let it bring them down. I'd love to be that way.

I had my first exercise in "positive thinking" yesterday. The credit card company called to see if I had been in Rhode Island recently. Apparently someone by the name of Fraud U. Lent racked up over $4,000 in charges at such venues as Abercrombie, Walmart and Wet Seal. My favorite stores. (By the way, I reserve the right to still be cynical.) I was a little shaken by the news, but glad that they took care of it.

When I called Dan on the phone to let him know that our cards had to be shredded, he took it in good stride. That's Dan's way. Side note: Dan could be battling King Kong, have indigestional trouble and be running a marathon and his response would be: "Could be worse". Anyway, he and I counted our blessings right there on the phone. We were thankful for health and a warm home during these cold winter days.

It'll take some work, friends. But you can persuade my negative side to be succumbed by your good or redeeming news.

A bit of cabin fever fun

For those of you with small children who feel pent up in the winter.

Tell your child to get their bathing suit on--they're going swimming with you. Fill the bath tub with as much warm water and bubbles as possible. Bring every possible toy into the tub leaving only enough room for you and them. This works great with many ages.

2008

First things I ate in the New Year: A Frito. Seriously. A Frito.

First time I wrote "2008": At 8:31 a.m. - when I put out the new Ziploc receipt bag and wrote "January 2008" on it.

Last thing I said in 2007: "Good night, honey"

What we were doing at midnight: We were sound asleep with Mythbusters playing in the background.

First thing I talked about in 2008: "Ugh. You WON'T believe the crazy dream I had."

Last time with friends in 2007: Dinner at Wildfire Grill with Cathi and Andrew Schuurmann and Marc and Sara Miller. In our pre-children days, we used to stay up past midnight playing cards. This year, we played with our kiddos who were not at all interested in sleep. It was fun.

Morgan's resolution for the New Year: "Eat breakfast."

Dan's resolution for the New Year: "To learn how to make crepes."

Emily's resolution for the New Year: The same as it is every year: To not make a resolution. (Philosophy question: If I make a resolution to not make a resolution, have I broken my resolution?)

Well wishes for all my friends and family: May the wind be always at your back. May the fat you eat turn to muscle. And may the relationships in your life surprise you with joy.