See Rock City

On Wednesday after church, we loaded up into our van and drove up Lookout Mountain to see Rock City. We've taken Hannah to see Santa at the Enchanted Garden of Lights since her very first Christmas. This year she has been asking "When are we going to Rock City?!" nearly every time we get into the car. The schools here only had a half-day on Thursday before the kids all started their break, so we decided we had better go to Rock City before school was out. Last year we waited until two days before Christmas and it was packed!

It was a dreary evening, but the temperature didn't get below 50. There was a little drizzle of rain and some foggy patches, but it wasn't bad, and the weather seemed to keep the other people away. We almost had the place to ourselves. When we got to Santa, there were no other kids around so Hannah got to sit with him and visit for a nice long time. Lydia visited too, but she wasn't sure she wanted to let Santa disturb her evening nap. Here is a picture:


Because we were basically the only ones there, we also got to take plenty of time for pictures. The ladies at the gift shop were more than happy to have something to do, but we still felt like we should thank them by buying something from the shop. Since we don't need ANY MORE Christmas decorations at our house, we opted for Hannah's all time favorite: face-painting. It cost $5 for a few sparkly looking snowflakes, but what the heck? It only happens once a year, right? Here are some other pictures from the evening.






The only downside to having all of Rock City to ourselves was being alone in Fairyland Caverns. The black lighting on the fairytale & nursery rhyme scenes is usually a little creepy to me. When there is no one else around, it is downright disturbing! I found a flickr album someone posted online with some pictures that can only begin to convey the creepiness. Click here to see it (but be warned!) Hannah had a love/hate relationship with the caverns. She adores princesses and fairytales, but she is terrified of the dark. She has asked to go back several times since Wednesday night, but I think she is asking in part out of morbid curiousity! It will be awhile before Mommy can take her back- maybe Daddy...

Aside from the cave, it was a special night for our family. I hope you are able to find some time in all of the rush of the season to enjoy sweet traditions with your own loved ones.

Give it up

I know I've already blogged today, but I missed a week so I think it's okay. And besides, we just had a very traumatic experience at our house.

It started with our visit to Cincinnati. At my parents house, Hannah fell in love with this tacky little stuffed cat- the kind with a hard little body covered in rabbit fur. She carried it with her every where she went and she slept with it at night. She brought it back with her, and it has been her constant companion.

Today, while Hannah & I worked on this darling little Nativity story book you can illustrate yourself with stamps, Kitty met Sophie. It was not a good encounter. I looked over and noticed something other than rawhide in Sophie's mouth, rushed to remove it, and almost cried when I realized what it was. Furless, in pieces, with only one eye left... Kitty was gone.

In the past, we've quickly thrown out things Sophie demolished and hoped Hannah would forget they existed. Once, to let Hannah know we meant it when we told her to keep her toys off of the floor or Sophie would get them, we left her chewed up Schleich figure right where we found it- scars and all. When she later found it, the curious, concerned look on her face as she asked, "What happened to my panda?" and inspected his disfigurement was enough to keep me & John giggling for a few days (not because we're cruel, just because it really did look like it had suddenly come down with a bad case of leprosy). This time, I knew Hannah would notice Kitty was missing, and I did not want to leave the disturbing little pile of kitty pieces for her to find. I just told her: I think Sophie just ate your kitty.

I have to give her credit: the kiddo handled it better than I imagined. There were lots of tears- it was a devastated kind of cry, and I just held her and told her I was sorry. This was real grief to her- she lost something very special, very suddenly. To comfort her, or at least show her that I understood and survived the same sort of ordeal, I showed her something I lost to Sophie's chewing earlier in the morning: an angel ornament made by my aunt. I'd had it for 20 years, and Sophie destroyed it when we left her alone for 20 seconds. I held Hannah for a little longer, then asked if she wanted to cuddle & watch a movie. She said no, that she wanted to finish the stamp book. She took some deep breaths and asked if we could try to find a new kitty. (We did- that's "new kitty" above.) She fussed again for a bit when I explained that the new kitty would not be arriving for a couple of days, courtesy of a seller on e-bay. And then, to use her words, she "gave it up."

I am so proud of her. When I found Kitty, I was angry. When Hannah found out, I expected DEFCON 1. For a three-year-old, especially one who has not had a lot of sleep in the past week, to be able to say, "I cried & cried, but then I gave it up" is pretty amazing. As an adult, I have let myself get attached to so many things. I have to be honest, I'm still upset about the angel ornament. But I'm thankful for the lesson in letting go, courtesy of my own little living angel.

Cincinnati

Last weekend we went to Cincinnati. We'll still be heading up there on Christmas day, but we'll be cutting our visit short to go to see John's family in Virginia for a few days. Since there were still so many people who hadn't met Lydia yet, and less time for them all to get to snuggle with her after Christmas, we headed up to Ohio. It was a great visit. It is always so wonderful to see people we love and to see how much they love Hannah- and now Lydia.

It was also wonderful because I got to take John to an NFL game while the girls visited with family. His Redskins played my Bengals. Here is the sign I took to the game:


Well, there wasn't a tie. The Bengals actually won! I was trying to give John the opportunity to see the Redskins win as an anniversary gift. Oh well. He was disappointed, but we had a good time anyway. After the game, we visited with more special people and then took Hannah to see Christmas lights with Nana & Papa. Then we headed back Monday, and the girls were great in the car! Hannah was very sad to leave everyone, but it was nice to be able to say we'll be heading back in 10 days!

Exactly one year ago, John & I were arriving in New York for a quick but wonderful trip to celebrate our 5th anniversary. He surprised me by planning the whole thing. He even made an itinerary including a carriage ride in central park and a broadway show. What a great husband I have! There is only one problem: this year we both miss the sights and sounds of Manhattan at Christmas more than we could have ever anticipated. Here are some of our favorite pictures from the trip:

Pajama Monday

We had a busy weekend, and I haven't been feeling 100%, so today we enjoyed a lazy PJ day. In fact, right now, both of my girls are napping and they are still in their pjs. Don't judge us- you know you're jealous! Lazy PJ day consisted mainly of the following components: PBS kids on television, washing/folding lots of loads of laundry, snacks, and (so I don't feel like a totally terrible mom) an art project. Here are the darling little Hand Santas made by Hannah. I especially like how she drew pupils in the eyes and made the mouth big "so he can say Ho Ho Ho."

Happy Anniversary!

Today is my anniversary! John & I got married 6 years ago today. On one hand it seems crazy that we've been married that long, but on the other hand it seems like even longer ago. So much has changed in our lives since December 7, 2002. John was still in seminary- his one exam was already finished because he had an understanding professor who thought of "no better reason" to miss exams than one's own wedding. I on the other hand was right in the middle of my exams & projects to get my masters/certificate at Samford. I actually had to take an exam the day we flew out! After our rehearsal dinner, my bridesmaids and I watched Father of the Bride together, and then my maid of honor & I went upstairs to tag-team-tackle a lesson plan unit that my dad then ran out & mailed before the wedding! Seriously. It was horrible. Most brides have sleepless nights due to nerves or excitement before the wedding. Mine was due to finals!

But we survived and had a beautiful wedding day. I actually think the stress of the semester was beneficial to me, because if I were able to devote myself totally to wedding preparations I might have been more of a bridezilla. As it was, I was probably more laid back than anyone might have expected, most of all me! So we forgot our toasting glasses, so what? We forgot to plug in the Christmas lights on the stage? Oh well. We're here, we're married & we're sharing it with all the people we love. Who could ask for more?

That was 6 years ago. We both graduated. We've been in at least three churches since then. I student taught, and then had my own classroom for two years. We made a home in Birmingham. We moved & made a home in Chattanooga. We had a precious little girl named Hannah. We had another precious little girl named Lydia. Time marches on.

I wish I could say I've approached the rest of our life & marriage the way I did our wedding day. The dog ate our entire screen door? Oh well. It's taking us three + years to get rid of the tacky wallpaper in our house? So what. Unfortunately, especially lately with all the pressure to have a picture perfect holiday season, I've been a lot more tense. But today, sitting and reflecting on that day not so long ago, I am thankful. We're here, we're married, and we're sharing our lives with the people we love. Who could ask for more?

To my husband- I love you even more today than I did then. Things might be less glamorous, but they are definitely not less interesting! Thank you for being a patient and loving husband, a devoted (and fun) dad, and a perfect partner for me. I look forward to many more years, many more changes, many more opportunities for me to see how blessed I am to have you. Happy Anniversary!!!

Sara

I know I already posted today, but I found this picture while feeding Lydia and just had to share it.

This is Sara. She is a star at a Sea-Worldish place in Istanbul. I googled her & found more info and pictures here. I think this is right up there with the elephant painting. Plus, I just watched the beginning of "50 first dates" the other day, and Sandler's character talks about how people don't know much about walruses and what they can do. I for one did not know they could play the saxophone. Thanks for educating us, Sara. Rock on with your big walrusy self.

SNOW!

Yesterday, as I sat nursing Lydia, Hannah called in from the living room, "Mom! I see snow!" I thought it was something on PBS kids- the Word World episode had been a Christmas one. But she quickly let me know it was real snow and told me to look out the window. Sure enough, I peeked through the blinds to see big beautiful flurries. I could tell it was terribly cold when I took the girls to the grocery store that morning, but I had no idea I'd be seeing snow!

I get really excited when I actually get to see snow these days. Growing up in Ohio, I don't think I ever experienced a December, let alone a winter, without a nice covering of snow. We didn't always have a white Christmas, but I can remember at least one time it snowed before Halloween! I've seen snow a few times since moving to the south, but I'm pretty sure they were small dustings in January or February. There is just something special about snow that comes when Christmas is in the air. Hannah felt it too. She was jumping around, scrambling to put on her shoes, plotting to catch a flake on her tongue, and asking "Is Santa coming?!" over & over. To her, it was Christmas.

So, I bundled the girls up and took them outside- it was Lydia's first snow, after all. But we just stayed long enough to greet the flurries, catch a few, and snap some pictures. Then we hurried inside to warm up again. That's another one of those magical moments of the holidays- coming back inside and stripping off wet clothes to thaw with hot chocolate. What a nice surprise! Of course, it didn't stick, and if I were in Ohio it would not be a very meaningful snow. No schools would close, no big deal. But I'm not in Ohio. And I miss the snow at Christmastime. So to me, it was a big deal! Snow!

Hannah was so excited when we stepped out onto the porch!

Lydia's first snow took her breath away (or maybe that was the wind!)

I'm a grown up!

I did it! I cooked Thanksgiving dinner for the very first time. I was fortunate to get to try this big undertaking with just my little family, so there wasn't a bunch of pressure from extended family depending on me to get everything just right. I made a real turkey and just about everything I used to have for Thanksgiving at home. I timed everything almost perfectly too- if we hadn't stopped to document the event with pictures and figure out how to seat our little ones at the dining room table, it would have all been hot from the kitchen.

I feel this officially qualifies me for "grown-up" status. I know that since I am someone's mom (actually two someones) I should already consider myself a grown-up. There are definitely times that I realize I am a full-fledged on-my-own adult: when I pay my mortgage, when my girls are sick and I have to figure out how to best take care of them, when John & I travel on our own, when people I've never heard of sing the national anthem at major sporting events... that kind of stuff. But cooking a whole Thanksgiving dinner is another level of grown-up that I honestly didn't know I had in me. I'm proud of myself.

Now, if I can just get these silly Christmas decorations set up...

Who knows what they'll say next...

As I was tying Hannah's shoe the other day, she asked me a strange question. "Mom, what's a loadnose?" My first response was to ask her to repeat herself. Then I thought about the Spanish instruction she is getting at preschool every Thursday, combined with hundreds of episodes of Dora, and wondered if this was a matter of translation. I admitted to Hannah that I had no idea what a "loadnose" was, and asked her why she was asking. I can't remember word for word because she was explaining so quickly, but here is her response:

"You know, the other day when we were outside playing and you told me to watch where I was stepping and Sophie was eating something yucky in the grass. I said 'What is she eating?' and you said 'loadnose.' That kind of loadnose!"

I couldn't stop giggling as I tried to explain to her that what I really meant was that I had no idea what Sophie was eating, and aside from that mischevious dog only one person knew for sure: the Lord. Hannah giggled too. She's a pretty smart kid, and she's always loved vocabulary and funny phrases. I think she got it, but I can't be sure. Lord only knows.

Another Turkey Project

Today I ventured out to the grocery store with both girls. I was feeling very brave. Or stupid. I'm still not sure which. I always stop by the bank first and get a sucker to keep Big Sister occupied. Except today I left the sucker in the car in my mad dash to get Little Sister's carrier strapped on and make sure her little head was covered and her ankles weren't showing (not because of some Victorian-era purity code but because it was stinking cold!). Even without the candy entertainment, Big Sister did really well in the store. When she started to get impatient, we pretended the sucker was calling to her from the van. "Big Sister! You forgot me! I'm waiting! Only a few more aisles!" It was a silly yet effective distraction.

Aside from the milk, eggs and bread of which we were completely out at home, I had other important things on my list: ingredients to make the cutest (and tastiest) little turkey you've ever seen. So, after we made it out of the grocery store and I unloaded everything, Big Sister and I tried to put together the turkey. Okay, really, I tried while she watched. I didn't really have instructions, just a picture I had seen. I figured if it was too frustrating or a complete disaster, it was better to do a grown-up trial run first. I improvised on a few things, but it turned out pretty well. Until the head started slipping. After putting it back on about 5 times, I finally just handed it to Big Sis who had been salivating over the plateful of ingredients the whole time. She popped it into her mouth and then proceeded to dismantle and devour the rest of Mr. Turkey. It was quite a lot of sugar before naptime, but oh well. To her, this whole endeavor had been a huge success.

I am not so satisfied. I at least wanted a picture of my creation, or better yet: a plateful of cute little turkeys to put out for Thanksgiving. I don't know if it was the motion of the head slipping each time or what, but my camera simply wouldn't focus to document the creation. So I found a picture of what it might have looked like. Here it is:

And as a bonus, the site where I found this had great little tips that I missed by not having instructions. For instance, freeze the reese's cups and cut off the bottom to make it more level and (hopefully) prevent head slippage. I'll let you know if it works!

Baby, it's cold inside

We currently have no heat upstairs. Unless, of course you count the little heater/fan that I keep moving from room to room throughout the day. The other day, Big Sister wanted to play in her room while I got dressed. Since I am excited about any opportunity to get ready without company, I agreed and began the task of bundling her up to play in her room. Here is what we ended up with:

It started with a robe and warm socks, and then she found her hat & gloves. I'm not really sure how the lei or balloon scepter factored in, but did I mention I was really looking forward to getting dressed by myself? I let the eccentric accessories slide.

But then I stepped back and looked. Change that heater into a trash can bonfire, and cut the fingers off her little pink gloves, and Big Sister would pretty much fit the picture most of us have in our head of homeless people. What's even scarier, regardless of her clothing, Big Sis does look like many homeless people in the real world. Check out this statistic:

• The National Law Center on Homelessness and Poverty states that each year approximately 3.5 million unique individuals experience homelessness in America. 1.35 million, or 39%, of them are children. 45% of those children are under the age of 5.

Do the math really quickly and that means there are more than 607,000 homeless babies, toddlers and preschoolers. I think about how cold it is in the girl's room in the morning, and how much it concerns me as her mother to keep her warm and healthy. At least we have a roof over our head and a working heat unit downstairs. At least there is a part on its way that will help us to have heat once again. Others are not so fortunate.

We hear it all around us this time of year- calls for warm coats, space heaters, extra clothing, canned goods for a holiday meal, even toys for Christmas. I suspect most of us heed the call. But hearing it now, as a mommy trying to keep her own little ones warm, even temporarily, it's louder than ever. Here are some of my favorite links for collecting and offering assistance to the homeless. The first is local, the source of my statistic. The other two may be more familiar and are nationwide. Check them out:

Chattanooga Community Kitchen
Salvation Army
Goodwill

Regardless of how you feel about homelessness, joblessness, welfare or other economic issues in our country, children are innocent victims in all of this. I hope you'll join me in helping the least of these. After all, how can you say no to a face like this?

Crazy for Candy Corn

When I was little, the only reason I liked Candy Corn was to make goofy looking teeth. As an adult I like it, but I think that is due in part to my anticipation for all things autumn. And the fact that if you mix it with peanuts, it tastes just like a pay day. It's true.

Big Sister LOVES candy corn. Then again, she is not your typical kid when it comes to candy. Whenever people let her pick her own candy on Halloween she picked two things: tootsie rolls and smarties. You know, the cheap candy that's usually left over after the Snickers and other good stuff is gone. (I can't judge her too much, I actually picked those black & orange peanut butter kisses when I was a kid. I'm told now that NOBODY likes them.) Yesterday I was a part of two very entertaining scenes involving candy corn:

Act 1

Mom is nursing Little Sister, Big Sister comes in from the living room.

Big Sis: Mom, come on! It's Dora's birthday. Bring a present.
Mom: I'll be there in a second, after I finish nursing Little Sis

(Sound familiar? See previous blog entry "Wheels on the bus")

A few minutes later, mom scrambles for a gift for a doll, grabs something, comes in.

Mom: Happy birthday, Dora! I brought you some candy corn!
Big Sis: (grabbing it and stuffing it in her mouth) I'll eat that.
Mom: but it is Dora's present!
Big Sis: Yeah, but she doesn't have any teeth.
Mom: Oh, okay. Well, what did you get her?
Big Sis: Coasters.

Act II
Later in the day. Mom is once again nursing Little Sister. No, that is not all she does...

Big Sis: Mom, can I have some candy corn?
Mom: Yes, in a few minutes. Wait for me-
Big Sis: (pushing a chair over to the counter to help herself) Oh. I got it.
Mom: How did you get up there? Don't take too many.
Big Sis: (comes in the room with a mouthful, speaking muffly) I didn't. I'm just going to get five more. (starts to return to the kitchen)
Mom: No! You can have ONE more.

Big Sis returns with yet another mouthful of candy corn.

Big Sis: I got three more.
Mom: (beginning to have mean Mommy voice) [Big Sister!] I said you could have ONE more!
Big Sis: Ok! (returning to the kitchen to have just one more...)

As you can see, the girl is pretty serious about her candy corn. I think the relationship started out of curiosity from one of our favorite songs from Nick jr. last year. I know Halloween is over, but this is just for fun:

An elephant with more talent than me...

A friend of mine posted a video of an elephant painting. It sounds silly, like a circus act. But it isn't silly at all when you watch it. It's beautiful. The elephants at this center are rescue animals, lovingly trained to paint pictures that are then sold to help the rescue efforts. I have to admit, dork that I am, when I first watched it, I thought that the elephant was actually creating the picture, like trying to communicate... it made it a little cooler that way. But it is still pretty amazing to see that cute little trunk wielding a paint brush. If you have hundreds of dollars to invest in art and a good cause, one of these prints can be yours. Really. They are sold online at a fair trade store called Exotic World Gifts. Our little town has its own fair trade store, World Next Door, which is a fantastic place to shop for Christmas gifts. They have hundreds of other amazing products (including a small selection of cloth diapers, just had to throw that in) that are made and bought ethically in poor developing countries. I'm not sure if they have elephant paintings, but they do have paper made out of elephant poop! Seriously, they do.

Back to the painting. You have to click here to watch the video. It is amazing!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=He7Ge7Sogrk

Settle in, this is going to be a long one...

"For whatever you may think of me
Any thoughts you might allow
I am not who I would like to be, I'm just who I am right now
And if I caused you any pain
If the words I spoke weren't kind
I confess, repent and take the blame
Let's just leave it all behind
We are fragile everyone, we all long for something more
Things are said and things are done
And the pieces hit the floor - we are so fragile"

~from Fragile by Ralston Bowles

"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind." ~ Dr. Seuss

A week or so ago, someone found something on my facebook page to be offensive. It was not inappropriate language or anything like that. It was a group I joined, one created by my husband to make others laugh and inspire honest, thoughtful discussion in these politically charged times. The name of the group was somewhat perplexing, if not shocking, but once you read the description and posted items you would see it was total satire. While a presidential candidate was mentioned, it endorsed no political person or party. It was meant to bring to light the ridiculousness of misinformation on both sides of political discussions. Ironically, it did so in more ways than we ever intended.

Rather than seeing it for what it was (or even looking at anything other than the title, I suspect) someone took it seriously. And, instead of asking either one of us about it, they told others. When we found out about it, we were devastated. My husband was devastated because he has tried, as a minister, to walk that fine line of being an open and honest example of his faith lived out, while still trying to be respectful and private about politics and other divisive issues in the church today. I am proud of him for how well he walks that line; it is not an easy task.

I was devastated, too, but for different reasons. First, because I was finally starting to feel comfortable being who I am, and this was a setback in the process. See, for years and years I struggled with my faith and my convictions. I don't always look like the typical baptist or agree with everything those in my Bible Studies or Sunday School classes say. I've always had a passion for justice and mercy and the "least of these." I have been blessed with friends and family members who are not typically the kind of people you find in an evangelical church, and it has given me a unique understanding. I was challenged in my faith and service in college and came out of it (I believe) changed for the better. But, at the same time, it was not uncommon for me to be sitting in a church service or participating in discussion and hear something very hurtful about myself or my convictions. When we were first married and living in Birmingham, I had a crisis of faith. For one thing, I had just experienced the unexpected death of a man who was like my second father. But for another, all around me I saw Christians full of hatred for anyone not exactly like them in their walk with Christ. I had always considered myself a strong woman, not afraid to stand up for what I believe, but I sat in awkward silence as I listened to brothers and sisters in Christ declare others, and unknowingly sometimes me, lost. I was hurt and confused by those at my church. I felt unacceptable and out of place with God's people and couldn't reconcile or separate that from God Himself. It was hard to go to church and hard on my relationship with God.

Fortunately, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. God led us to some great families of faith and showed me amazing examples of wise, gracious believers in our last few months in Birmingham. Then, we moved to our present church, and it felt like a fresh start. Of course, we moved and had a baby and hit the ground running, so at first I barely had time to think at all, let alone contemplate my theological or political convictions. But as I've been studying and praying lately, I've realized the best thing I can give my girls is an example of a strong Christian woman living out her convictions. I love Big Sister's individuality and I want her to value who she is. That is something I can't tell her to do- I have to show her. So I have tried to be honest. When God uses me to teach, whether it be women or the children in our kid's worship time, I try my best to share what He tells me, what I see in His word. I share who I am and who God is making me to be. I am still not out to proclaim an agenda or advocate my political views- I doubt most of the people that know me best even know that I am- gasp!- a registered democrat. Because it is just one component of who I am.

But it is who I am. So this election season, I felt convicted to stop sitting uncomfortably when someone said something hateful about me. I didn't want to simply declare political views hapharzardly- that is divisive and leaves people uncomfortable, which was what I wanted to avoid in the first place. And I didn't want to enter into political debates and change people's minds, except about their ideas of who can be a Christian. I didn't seek out political discussion, but I grew tired of not returning to a mom's group or a Bible study because I was offended and felt too ashamed to share a different point of view. When friends on facebook made comments that said no one could be a Christian and a Democrat, I tried to offer them evidence to the contrary: me. That's all I've ever put out there- myself. It was nice to be honest. But it was also really hard. I trusted a lot of people with a part of who I am that I hadn't really shown before. And then someone took one look at one thing I said or did, and instead of being honest with me and voicing their disagreement, they told other people.

How many other people, I will never know. Have you ever walked through the halls of your own church wondering who is judging you behind their "Sunday Morning Smile?" I have, on more than one occasion. I suspect it is what it felt like to be Zachaeus or Mary Magdelene or even John the Baptist. I also suspect it is how thousands of churchgoers feel each week- either because they are visitors or fringe members, or because they feel ashamed of something they have done, or they feel ashamed because of something someone in the church has done to them. Either way, it doesn't much feel like the body of Christ. That was the second reason this whole thing was so devastating to me: I feel like someone broke the trust that I placed in them, not only as a "facebook friend" or a friend of a facebook friend, but also as a fellow believer in Christ. Jesus is very clear about how to handle disagreements with other believers (Matthew 18), and I trusted that the people I love, with whom I have tried to be upfront and honest, would be the same to me.

I still want to trust. If I go back to hiding who I am, no one will win. I thought about editing my friend list on facebook, but I don't know who hurt me in this situation, and I've come to the point where I don't want to know. If you were that person, its ok. At least I've gotten a (hopefully) insightful blog entry out of it. I am going to keep being me, hopefully encouraging, entertaining and challenging but not offending. But please, if I ever say or do something that concerns you, tell me. If I say something that you don't understand or that doesn't seem right, ask me. I'm not perfect, I have a lot to learn, and I need correction and accountability. I've got a lot of growth yet to come. We all do. And we need the church, the body of Christ, to be a safe place as we go through the joys and pains of growing together and as individuals. I can think of no better place to discover and love who we are.

Mommy-Daughter Time

You can learn a lot about a family from a three-year-old. Take the poem she made up today:

"Little Miss Muffet sat on her tuffet
Eating her curds and whey.
Along came a DOGGIE
who sat down beside her
and TRIED TO EAT HER TOE!!"

Can you tell we have a crazy puppy at our house that is likely to chew up anything? Big Sister has lost more than a few toys after leaving them out for Sophie to find.

The other day I caught another glimpse into life through my preschooler's eyes. My mom was in town and she was singing The Wheels On the Bus. Ever the creative child, Big Sis started adding new verses: "The Nana on the bus says lets play a game," etc. Then she sang, "The mommies on the bus say 'just a second I have to feed the baby." My heart sank. I know I say that quite often- nursing can be very time consuming. But I didn't realize that if Big Sister had to summarize our interactions into one verse of song, that would be it. It was time for some intentional time with my big girl.

First, I tried to stop trying to get things done while Little Sister naps, and instead spend some quality time with my big girl. Next, one evening after preschool I took Big Sister to the mall. I know it might sound lame, but playing on the indoor playground and riding the silly (and expensive) coin operated rides are right up there on her list of favorite things to do. We also stopped by and got a new outfit for her build-a-bear friends. Here is a picture of Big Sis enjoying our night out:


Today I had another chance to take advantage of the time Big Sister and I get alone. I recently got a book of devotions for preschoolers and today we read the first one together. It was about having everything we need (just in time for the holidays) and Big Sister said, "Some boys and girls don't have food or clothes." We talked about how God wants to take care of them, too, and maybe he wants to do that by asking those of us who have more than enough to share what we have. We discussed this over lunch, and she was eager to put it into practice- she kept trying to give me bites of her banana. We also made a cute Thanksgiving turkey together. I still had to clean up the lunch mess and nurse the baby and all sorts of other things, but I also had a great time with my little girl. I hope she sees that. I hope she had fun too. I hope she writes a new verse for The Wheels on the Bus soon!

Catching up...

It has been a loooong time since I've blogged (I mean before yesterday. ha!) so I've got lots to catch up on. First, we've shared some really sweet family moments this fall. The weather has been absolutely beautiful, and Big Sister has been able to do so much more this year to enjoy autumn. Here are a few of my favorite fall photos:








My favorite photo of the season is our annual fall family photo. This year we had to take a really narrow, windy road up the mountain. I gripped the side of my seat and tried to keep from getting sick while Big Sis kept reassuring me- "it's okay, mommy. I like this road." But in the end, the view was worth it. See the picture of Big Sis & Daddy checking it out above. And here is our family picture. Aren't we cute?

Keaton Update!

Hooray! Our sick kitty is MUCH better. I know this for a number of reasons. For one, she has been off of her feeding tube and eating on her own for two weeks now. For another, she has stopped hiding under the bed and peeing in strange places. And lastly, she is now back to knocking things over in attempts to climb into windowsills and otherwise making it sound like there is an elephant on the loose in our house. Other than the poodle-esque hair do from all of the places they had to shave for IVs and such, she looks much better.

Of course we are relieved to have her back to normal, and we are also relieved to be finished with hour long tube feedings all day long. I gained such an appreciation and sympathy for caregivers of sick family members during this ordeal. Our situation, though expensive and time consuming, was only temporary and, let's be real, for a cat. My heart breaks for parents who are tending to their children this way, or wives their husbands, or whatever the case may be. Add on top of that the worrying about how to afford to take care of them and it would seem almost too much to bear. I'll be saying a special prayer for the people I know who are dealing with this and for God to show me how I can help. After all, I've got a lot more free time now that I don't have to tube-feed a cat!

Sick kitty

I wasn't planning on blogging tonight. I thought I'd be in bed by now because I've been very tired all day. But Little Sister is still up, and I'm not sure I'll sleep very well anyway. Last night, I tossed and turned and woke up with a little prayer stuck in my head all night. It was a prayer for a cat. I know some of you probably think that's stupid. If so, go ahead and stop reading now. But if you're willing to at least consider that God, in His unfailing, intimate love for us, might care about the things that are most important to us, then it should make perfect sense.

I brought Keaton home with me one day during my student teaching. She was one of several tiny kittens in a litter that someone was just giving away, and she was covered in fleas. Hubby and I would sit & just pull them off of her, and she would just lie still and content in our hands and purr. Al was curious and licked her a lot but was generally very gentle. She has since become a member of our family, with her own stories and eccentricities . She used to roll seductively on the floor when she was in heat, before we had her "fixed". Once she shredded some of our new wedding registry towels when she used to knead her claws into them to fall asleep in the linen closet. She used to come when we would whistle for her, but only if we whistled Gershwin. She has always been able to find an open window in record time, enjoying the fresh air and peering at birds and squirrels through the screen. She even talks to birds and bugs. If you pet her when she's in the right mood, she'll purr loudly and give you a love bite. If you touch her when she's in the wrong mood, and you have a history of pulling her tail (Big Sister) she might give you a real bite. Despite that, Big Sis thinks she is the best animal in the world. She adores her and is always delighted to walk into her room and find Keaton in the window or curled up on the bed. One more thing about Keaton: she can stare anyone into giving her food.

But lately, she hasn't wanted any food. That's been the problem. A little over a month ago we found a lost mangey puppy and brought her into our home. Keaton has not adjusted well. We resolved to give it time, and after some deliberation, she seemed to be doing alright. She would mostly stay upstairs, away from the dogs, but she would venture down in the evenings and eat a little. But when Sophie (the new pup) figured out how to jump the baby gate and get upstairs, Keaton did not take it well. She got too stressed out. First she stopped coming downstairs. Then she stopped coming out of her little hiding places. And now she has stopped eating.

So, that brings me to last night. She looked awful- frail, pitiful; she even had a touch of jaundice. I woke up all night and checked on the baby, checked on the cat, whispered a prayer that she would make it until I could get her to the vet, and tried to go back to sleep. This morning I loaded up the girls and we all went to the vet. Big Sister made up a song to sing to the cat that went something like "it's ok, it's ok, it's ok you're sick. The doctor will help you" (okay, I think the words "throw up" were in the song too, but I'll leave it to your imagination). The vet did a lot of expensive lab work and told us they need to keep her on an iv for a few days to help her rehydrate and stablize. Now we wait, and, I admit it, we pray. This little animal might not be a person, but she is a member of our family. And she is precious to us all, especially Big Sister. Honestly, I'm not sure what would tear me up more: losing a cat I love so much, or having to explain that loss to my dear three-year-old. I can't bear the thought of either, so I pray. And, if you're not above it, I'd love for you to join me.

Ordinary Radical

Today my husband & I, along with our friend Hope, drove up to Lee University to see Shane Claiborne speak in a chapel service. We got there right as things were getting started and were almost turned away. In fact, we later found out that they had to close the doors with nearly 200 students waiting to come inside. I suppose the fact that Hope & I had infants strapped to us helped earn us some sympathy- they let us stand in the aisle and listen. I love Shane Claiborne because he does the things I am afraid to do. I'd love to run off to Africa to love on babies in an orphanage, or sell everything and live with the poor, or be arrested for sleeping in the park with homeless people, but I've got a mortgage and kids and what about insurance and... you get the idea. But he follows Christ in a "radical" way. He talked about his time working alongside Mother Teresa in Calcutta and the kids in his neighborhood in Camden and worshiping with believers in Iraq. He challenged the notion of "pro-life" and suggested we need to love people "from the womb to the tomb"- changing the way we look at welfare, war, the death penalty, and much more.

Honestly, there wasn't much that he said that we hadn't already heard or read from him before, but it was still so refreshing to hear it again. It was even more refreshing to me to see a group of young people so excited to hear him that they were sitting on the floor in the auditorium. Especially in this election season, when "evangelical" and "values voter" are again loosely defined phrases being tossed around, it was good to see young people who understand that poverty and war and hunger are "values issues" too. It gives me a hope for the church, our future, and our relationship to the rest of the world.

Speaking of the future, this was Little Sister's second time to "hear" Shane, and she is only 4 months old. Granted, the first time she had to hear him through my tummy, and I'm not sure she had developed ears yet, but still, she was there. Both of my girls are amazing, and I have great expectations for both of them. But part of the reason we chose her name (aside from being able to agree on VERY few names and even fewer Biblical ones) was because of my favorite professor at Georgetown. She taught me about the Bible & church history, but also about being a strong, intelligent layperson and woman of God. There were many times I looked to her as an example of faith and grace when I found myself angry or cynical about the church and our imperfections. She introduced me to Molly Marshall and encouraged me to be the first female student to "preach" (careful now, might make someone uncomfortable) in a Georgetown convocation. My hope & prayer is that my little girl might change the world, like Shane, or at least someone's world, like Dr. Hoyle did mine & countless others. And maybe, as I'm trying to encourage my girls to live out their convictions, I will be further encouraged to do the same.

Top ten reasons I had a great birthday

10. A new date outfit from my husband- he even got it on clearance!
9. A hilarious picture of the day by Kevin K Lewis that made me laugh my way to sleep- conference girlfriend... haha!
8. Well-behaved (mostly) puppy dogs
7. Yummy rich chocolate cake from Fresh Market
6. Phone messages from my crazy family singing "Happy Birthday" on the answering machine
5. Lots of Facebook birthday wishes from people from every stage of my life- from elementary school through mommyhood.
4. Getting a bunch of stuff done around the house because Little Sister gave me her gift- she took a nice long afternoon nap
3. Sweet friends to watch our kiddos so we could have dinner without involving crayons, grilled cheese, pacifiers or chocolate milk.
2. White Canterbury Bell flowers, my favorite, bought by my hubby & delivered by my sweet girl
1. Very thoughtful gifts from a very thoughtful husband- including a Dvd of the 1925 Phantom of the Opera movie that we used to watch at the Alabama Theater every October when we lived in Birmingham. I've missed you, sad & creepy Lon Chaney!

Oh yeah- and I'm still in my twenties for one more year!

1930's wife score

60 As a 1930s wife, I am Superior Take the test!

Trash to treasure

I have a confession to make. I am a terrible cheapskate. I clip coupons, buy nearly every article of kids clothes second-hand, and (gasp!) have been known to regift things a time or two. I love the back clearance rack and the days after Thanksgiving and Christmas. Since becoming a mom, I've switched from the Clinique counter to CVS, and from the Limited and Ann Taylor to TJ Maxx and Target. In high school & college I used to get really expensive haircuts & coloring. Now, I can't remember when I last got my hair cut, but I am fairly sure it was at Supercuts.

Part of this is due to the fact that I was an elementary school teacher. During student teaching, I started collecting ANYthing I could use in my classroom. It was pretty much a requirement for getting a certificate: "gathers junk and turns it into a teachable moment? check." The (wonderful) teacher with whom I student taught moved up to a higher grade the year I was hired, so she gave me a lot of her primary resources. Lite brites, cookie cutters for play-do, dry erase boards, and any number of other teaching treasures were all mine, all free. It was teacher heaven!

Another reason I think I'm like this is because I am a stay at home mom. The church actually takes very good care of us, but owning your first home and having kids can be expensive! We weren't like a lot of our (smart) friends who waited and worked for a while before starting a family. No, instead we went from both being students to me being a teacher while my hubby finished seminary to parenthood. Even then, my cheapskate side showed through- I paid $15 to buy a high chair, crib, and changing table from a teaching friend of mine- and that was about all they were worth. Fortunately for Big Sister, my parents saw the absurdity of the labor and materials it would have taken to make those suitable for our little princess and went straight to Babies R Us. Most of my secondhand home purchases actually do work out. A majority of the furniture in our house came from someone else- I have sanded and painted tables, recovered chairs, made creative uses of slip covers, and more. If you don't want it anymore, call me (my husband will be so happy with me for saying that and volunteering to take more junk). Yes, it is an effort to save money, but it is more. Old stuff has character. It has its own story, real or imagined. And actually, I enjoy the project- seeing the potential in something someone else discarded as hopeless. Kind of reminds me of the gospel. Here is one of my favorite projects, my dining room set. In the background you can see some bamboo blinds we picked up from a freecycle post, and under the table is the puppy we "picked up" as a stray!


Honestly, though, I think I am the way that I am because God knows what He is doing. For one, He knows I'll never be uber-wealthy with a masters in education and a minister husband. Even the other career options I've considered (and there are many) are not the kind of professions you choose if you want to be rich: social work, counseling, law... trust me, if I were a lawyer I'd be the poor kind. Not only this, but God has given me a great passion for social justice issues, especially relating to poverty. Because of this, I have a very hard time being upset that I don't have an iphone when a child dies every 5 seconds due to hunger-related causes. I actually feel guilty for having the resources that I do and not sharing more. Hubby and I both decided in the beginning of our relationship that we wanted to be the kind of couple, now family, that helps others and gives freely when there is a need and that trusts God to provide. Lately, in my deepening understanding of living out the love of Christ, that has also translated into making wiser decisions about what to do with my money. I do believe money talks, and I don't want mine to say I support materialism or exploiting people in sweatshops or destroying God's creation or creatures. Of course, I am still a suburban mom, not a member of The Simple Way, so my money unfortunately still says a lot of those things. I'm just trying to keep turning down the volume. (Speaking of The Simple Way, Shane Claiborne will be at Lee this week. Any of you locals want to go with me?!)

So where did this random confession and ensuing guilt trip come from? We've spent the weekend with my wonderful parents, who came down to help us around the house. Besides patching, sanding & priming the former wallpaper-nightmare that is our hall bath, we fixed up some yard toys for Big Sister. The sandbox and playhouse have been around for a little while now, but they were well-loved by their previous owners. The swingset was one of my recent freecycle.org aquisitions. All of them are now cute & very usable, with the cost of some paint & elbow grease. Plus, we kept them from ending up in the dump. I know someday she will look around and notice that some of her "new" toys are actually older than she is (and don't go feeling sorry for her either, she gets PLENTY of new stuff from those same wonderful parents of mine, along with many other people who spoil her to pieces). I'm hoping that this realization will only help to further shape her into a passionate, caring person who refuses to fit any mold and leaves everything, and everyone, better than when she found it. That is my prayer for both of my girls.

So there you have it. Trash to treasure, the theme of my home. And hopefully a little picture of grace. Time to wrap this up. I've got to eat dinner, and then I have to sit down and go through three bags of clothes & shoes my mom brought me from my very fashionable cousin. I hope some fit- I've been worrying about what I'll wear this fall until I work off more of my pregnancy weight. I should know better than to worry. God dresses the lilies of the fields. He keeps giving & giving. I am so blessed.

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What kind of mom does this make me?

I'm thinking either really good for encouraging her creativity and not asking her to conform to other people's standards for fashion... OR really bad for setting her up to be disappointed when she realizes her days of wearing "interesting" outfits to the mailbox will someday no longer be cute. In fact, some day they could earn her the label of the town Boo Radley.

Just in case you're wondering about the ensemble: Ariel dress (or nightgown, to be truthful) and Belle shoes by Disney. Hat by Firehouse Subs. "Scarf" by- well, I don't know but she it used to hang on my oven. You have to love the resourcefulness.

One more thing- my husband will kill me for including the grass in this picture. He does mow it...

"Chagganooga"

Like a lot of people, before I visited I only knew this town from the old Glen Miller song. Before Hubby and I were married, I drove down to meet him in Chattanooga before heading to Carson Newman's homecoming together. Although he insisted it was a great little city, I kept hearing "Shovel all the coal in, gotta keep it rollin'... woo woo Chattanooga there you are." What could be so special about it besides big, dirty trains?

Plenty. That first visit was 7 (!?) years ago. We officially moved up here after Hubs finished seminary, right before Big Sister arrived. Trying to move while 9 months pregnant was insane. We still haven't taken down all the wallpaper or hung many of our pictures. For a well disguised introvert like myself, I was so exhausted from being a mommy that I didn't really WANT to go out and make new friends or see the city. Only in the last year or so have I finally begun to realize what a great town this is. We're finally starting to take advantage of all that Chattanooga has to offer- museums, outdoor activities, progressive culture, family friendly parks, and more.

Like Friday evening., when we ventured downtown with the whole family. Hubby didn't have any Upward stuff to do, Big Sis had a coupon to ride the carousel for free, and it would soon be too cold to play in the Coolidge park fountain. Plus, I've been feeling guilty about the lack of fresh air Big Sister gets on non-school days. Our yard is infested with mosquitoes that don't seem to have any kind of curfew as they bite 24 hours a day, which results in giant welts on her tiny arms & legs. We tried going to the park, just us girls, but I try to limit time in public with both girls after the infamous Barnes & Noble incident last month. So, now that Daddy was free to go with us, it seemed like the perfect family outing.

And it was, with the sun setting over the river and the families gathering to dot the landscape of the park. Big Sister approached the water much more gingerly than she had the last time, she wanted to hold Daddy's hand the whole time. He didn't mind. Little Sister stared at the carousel as if it were magical, and it kind of was. We explored the walking bridge, the fair trade shop, the sculptures, and the entrance to the aquarium through the eyes of a three-year-old. It really was perfect.

And then came dinner: with the loooong wait and the awkward "what do we do with our strollers?" question and the tired kids and the tipping booster seat and the lack of crayons for Big Sister's entertainment (I made up a straw wrapper game instead that bought us a few sane minutes) and the fussy baby and the giant glass of coke we knocked over on the way out and the man who "had too much medicine", who fell down in front of us as we crossed back over the walking bridge, leaving an exhausted Big Sister very concerned. (She thought we had knocked him down with our strollers!) But you know what? At some point in all of that madness, Hubby looked at me and started to laugh. It was so awful, so TOTALLY imperfect, that it was still perfect. I can't wait to do it all again.

My first blog

Well, I've decided to jump on the bandwagon and blog. I know that I am kind of late to the party, but oh well. These days, trying to get two little girls dressed, fed and loaded up and a puppy "pottied" and into her crate, I'm pretty much late wherever I go.
I'm not even really sure what I'll end up posting from day to day. I expect (and kind of hope) my blog is as multi-faceted (nice word for random, huh?) as my life. So, stay tuned for thoughts on being a mommy and the wonders of cloth-diapers one day, and maybe some reflections on Christian mysticism the next! As far as today goes, I've wasted my "me time" trying to set this darn thing up. I still don't have the images and things I'd like, but this blog is like me: a work in progress.