what's in that head?

It has just occurred to me that my sweet Ben can say his ABCs, count to 10 in Spanish (but not English :), sign the "Itsy Bitsy Spider," sing the first part of Frosty the Snow Man (we're really over summer here and living vicariously through a board book that my mom gave Ben last winter), spot Elmo a mile away and wakes up asking for his Monkies (Curious George). But knows so little about Jesus. He remembers everything he hears and repeats everything we say. And everyday I am missing opportunities to tell him about the sweet love of Jesus! Sorry Elmo and Curious Jorge, you are going to time out....indefinently.

Like on an airplane

If you know me well....you probably know I have trouble um....how do you say....focusing? Specifically on one item/project/activity for an extended (more than 2 minutes) period of time. But I learned years ago on a cross country flight, that if confined to a small space (airplane seat...which is smaller than small. I'm a small person and BARELY fit!) with limited distractions (in-flight movies to not count as distractions b/c they are generally horrible and I'm never in an ideal seat to see the screen at the right angle) I am able to really buckle down and focus on something (usually work, a book, etc) from take off to landing. I heard about a writer that use to book a NY to LA round trip flight when he was having writers block and would write 5 hours West and 5 hours East. Due to limited funds, a small child and well honestly not really liking to fly THAT much. I have found the second best place (for me). The Cafe at Mariner's church. On Monday mornings I drop Ben off at the church nursery for "Mom's Morning Out" and I head in to the cafe and book store for 3-1/2 hours of uninterrupted focused time. Pray I use this time wisely!

How many calories....

are in a Pipes "big" breakfast (eggs, bacon, potatoes and pancakes), a bowl (or 3) of Peanut Butter Captain Crunch cereal, a log of Ritz crackers, a cheese steak sandwich, a cheese burger, and appetizer size mac & cheese, salad, slider and a birthday cup cake?

Just curious.

My little Pirate

I didn't think Ben was quite old enough to enjoy Halloween this year, but I was SO wrong! I found an excuse just about every day last week to dress Ben up in his (hand me down - THANK YOU SHARON!) adorable Pirate costume and he LOVED it. Boots and all. And by Friday night, if his hat fell off, he'd put it back on himself. We trick or treated (is that a verb?) in Irvine with some friends and their (had to have been at least twenty) kids. Ben was totally in to it. Followed the pack. Went door to door. Held open his little bag. And surrendered all candy to mom! He did even walk right past the candy giver at the door and into their house! I quickly went in after him and made a mental note to have the "stranger" conversation sooner rather than later. We made it about two streets worth of houses before Greg and I were over it. But I think Ben could have gone on for hours. Here's the jolly Pirate and his papa.

happy happy joy joy

hmmmm....just reread a few blog entries from the past couple months and to an outsider (are there any of you out there?) it kind of sounds like i'm sad and depressed. really, it's not like that! i'm just dramatic sometimes when i write. it helps me process. and sounds better. i promise i'm not embelishing the realities of my life to make it sound better. that would be pathetic.

anyway....i think i am a joyful person. friends - can i get a "YEA YOU ARE?!?!" i love celebrating the littlest victories. no mess on the island when Greg gets home, a 19 month old saying "pullllessssssse" as he's running around the house with a box of breakfast bars that i've told him he can't have, a painless trip to the DMV and no surprise written test - that really did happen a few years ago and i thought for sure i'd fail with out studying, but i passed - victory. i cherish opportunities to smile and laugh with friends. to enjoy the daily moments of life. to listen to the details of greg's work day when he gets home. and kiss him good night. i could have an whole other blog for my sweet Greg. to feel the sun on my shoulders. have lunch dates with sweet Ben. to connect with old friends. i get excited about the silliest things. making Christmas cards in October. sending pictures of Ben to his favorite people. they get so excited. which i love. finding new recipies that everyone loves. talking to my grandmother. listening to my aunt. learning new things. knowing Jesus. and this smile.

Hope.

The song "Cry Out to Jesus" by Third Day came up on my iPod during a random (there really is nothing random in this world) shuffle the other day. And it resonated with me.

"There is hope for the hopeless and rest for the weary and love for the broken heart. There is grace and forgiveness. Mercy and healing. That meet you where ever you are. Cry out to Jesus. Cry out to Jesus."

Sweet Jesus, thank you for seeing each tear that has fallen. Thank you for hurting with me. For knowing my pain and loving me perfectly in it. For giving me such joy and hope in my life. In my marriage. In my sweet Ben. In my family. And my friends. Thank you for celebrating each victory with me. Being my biggest fan. For being proud. For hoping with me...for a miracle.

forever marked

i have cried stains into the wood desk in our office this year as i've typed on my computer. tears for Judson. tears for our babies. tears for hurting friends. tears for strangers. so many tears. i feel like i should circle them with ink and label them. to document this journey. this season. this time when i have been forever changed by the hurt in this world and the love of Christ. and i am desperate to understand the balance. how joy and pain can exist in the same heart at the same moment.

i'm back

It's been an eventful month, ie. no time for blogging. Unfortunately that probably means no time for reflecting. Which really means no time for Jesus. YIKES! I shouldn't say it that way. I have been praying. A lot with Ben which I LOVE. He puts his little hands together and says, "pray?" And I do. And he says, "Amen!"....then, "mas?" And we pray more. But back to my month. I left Seva at the end of September. It just wasn't the right job at the right time. So Ben and I packed up and went to visit my folks in Houston for a week. (and family in Suger Land and College Station.) Things I learned: Ben loves to tormet my parents cat. "MOKEY JOE!" - Cat goes running for his life! Ben needs a dog. Ben loves his cousins and aunts and uncles and we need to visit them more. It really is more humid in Houston than you can even imagine. Literally. A sauna. Unreal. It wasn't even raining and the roads were wet. From the humidity. Is that possible? Did they teach us something about that in chemistry when I wasn't paying attention? Time does not exist between old friends. Everything seemed bigger when you were a little. You always feel like a kid in your parents house. Even if you have a kid. I am always looking over my shoulder to see if there is some one I know from a hundred years ago, who's name I won't be able to remember if they see me. This trip it was Amy Reedy (with child) at Chick-fil-a. And....there's no place like home. And after almost 10 years, California really is home. Except that my body has secretly stayed on Central Time and I have NO problem going to bed at 10:00 pm CT the first night I'm in Texas and getting a solid 10 hours of sleep. Ahhhh....that was nice!

what i remember...

i'm at my parents house in the woodlands this week and we have spent a lot of time cleaning out old closets, desks, dressers, etc as my parents prepare to sell the house i grew up in. i am not much of a pack rat. i'm kind of a throw it away so i don't have to find a perfect place to store it person. but apparently my mom is...the most organized pack rat ever. so i've been going through boxes and boxes of "artifacts" she kept from my childhood. making piles for trash and good will and a few, very few items that i want to hang on to. and it's surprising what those things are. those pictures, pieces of paper, cards and what not that so connect me to the raw emotion of my childhood. many that i didn't think twice about at the time, but now, with years in-between, they are beyond significant. they are pieces of the puzzel that fit together and tell a story.

a letter my mom wrote me at camp when i was 7 telling me that my good friend's brother had died of cancer.

a letter i had written my mom telling her i hated camp and didn't ever want to go again - wanting to prevent another loss.

old halloween costumes - I was the cutest bunny you've ever seen.

misc. dance and cheerleading uniforms that remind me of sweet times with sweet friends - and wanting to be popular.

journals from high school filled with anger. then Jesus. then love - wanting eternal acceptance.

report cards. i did get a C in geometry. and probably an F in spelling. is that how you spell geometry? - wanting to be smart.
slinky bracelets and ballet shoes.
a tarnished silver bracelet and a best friend charm - wanting desperately to be someones best friend.

a notebook from college with writings from my favorite class with Prof. Bump - wanting to be heard and understood.

lots of notes from old boyfriends that make me SO grateful for Greg. and thankful that i learned the lessons i did BEFORE i met him! and so sad for the loss of Tim Isom. February 1976 - September 2001.
prom dresses and school photos - wanting to be pretty and desired.
golf trophies - wanting my dad to be proud.
birthday cards i made for mom and dad...that reveal a tender soul in a little girl.

Lord, more than anything, I want You to be glorified. Be glorified in my life.

follow through

if you read my blog, you may have noticed that I have mentioned more than once that I am not the best, and sometimes the worst at follow through. you know....setting out on a quest, starting a project, committing to a goal....and actually following through to the very end, to that happy place of completion, victory, accomplishment! there are so many examples I could give you I don't even know where to start. But for instance at the gym this morning I think, "I will do 30 minutes of cardio and 20 minutes of weights." Which turns in to 25 minutes of cardio, 5 minutes of stretching and 10 (I'm serious) girlie push ups. And I rationalize it...I've been sick....haven't worked out in two weeks...I should take it easy. For the record, I"m not sure if I have ever NOT been able to think of a reason why I should take it easy at the gym. I wish where was a lazy monitor that would terminate my membership due to lack of sweat. B/c I'm sure the staff is looking. And thinking....why does she bother? But then they see little Ben flirting with the nursery worker and they understand....he BEGS me to take him to the gym! I digress. (I just wanted to say "I digress" b/c it's my favorite blog phrase!)

I've read the first chapter of hundreds of books. Embarked on dozens of healthy eating plans that lasted less than a day. Some less than a meal. :) Resolved to change countless habits. I trained for a marathon and ran 1/2. I bought light switches to replace the old ones in our house...they are still sitting in the garage. I have picture frames that are not hung. And paint still in cans.

I think one of the reasons for this behavior is that I just get so excited about the next project or goal, I forget about the current one. Or unprioritize it. I am QUEEN (in my world) of starting a new project with out finishing the one in progress. This is evident in my house all the time. The laundry is 1/2 done, the floors are 1/2 mopped, the bed is made but with out pillows, the groceries are put away, minus the rice, bread and beans, which sit on the counter for 2 days. The thing is....I get a LOT done in a day. I am very productive. I work fast. I move fast. And I leave things undone fast. I guess you could say I am impulsive. If something comes to mind, I do it. Even if I"m in the middle of something else. (Greg....if you're still reading, please stop. This is just documentation that I am your walking pet peeve and that can't be good for our relationship. Think fast of all the reasons you love me! And forgot this little itty bitty flaw.***) On a side note, my clients use to LOVE me b/c I would drop what ever I was doing when they called and jump on their request. I just thought I would say that to make myself feel better.

All this to say, I"m not feeling great about deciding to leave Séva. I mean, I feel good about the decision and am confident it is a good one for my family and I at this time, but....it kind of feels like quitting. And when I was in high school, and wanted to quit Cheerleading, and NCL, and my sorority in college, my mom pretty much forbid me from doing so. Am I just rebelling as an adult? Acting out in difiance 15 years later? Or is this unrelated. Probably unrelated. I'm grasping for clarity here people.

I've started thinking life is about the journey. Not the finish line. It's about what you learn along the way. Well....my journey for the next few months at least, involves less scheduled commitments than ever before. I will have endless hours to spend with Ben, holding his hand, sitting with him playing legos (his favorite past time that he insists I participate in now), finishing books I have started, investing in relationships I have neglected, etc. In this next phase of my life....I want to do a few things really well. I want to be present. And invest. In people and relationships. I want to listen more and talk less. Please Lord....help me to listen more and talk less. Help me to start what you want me to start. And finish strong! I pray that I would finish strong in my marriage, in parenting Ben, and in friendships. And most importantly....SO important....I pray that I finish strong with Jesus!

***it should be noted that my dear husband is KING of follow through. He is incapable (literally) of starting a new project with out finishing the current one and it amazes me! He can not stop working with out cleaning up for the day, go to bed with out reading the rest of the article, put the clothes in the new closet with out the second (and necessary) coat of paint on the wall, plant the flowers with out the proper drainage...you get the point. He works harder than any one I know. Doesn't over look a single detail. And can be trusted to complete any project he starts. I LOVE and admire this about him....even when I'm trying to talk him into dropping what he's doing to come play with me...and he won't !

going green (or blue)

there is this small (growing) part of me that wants to be a home-birthing, home-schooling, cloth diaper using, veggie eating, bike-riding, trash composting, 100% organic, carbon neutral, asset (instead of liability) to my family and this earth we call home. i am motivated by many factors, but mostly, i think all the products we use and consume today and the way we live our lives is to toxic and covered in chemicals to make things bigger, brighter, smellier, tastier and it can't be good for us. and i think it all causes cancer. i have no proof. but somehow, somewhere, i think that if i eliminate all of this toxic stuff from my life and my house...we are reducing our risk of getting cancer. and that makes me feel in control :)

i have lofty ideas, but unfortunately (as with many areas of my life....i am trying to get to the root of this behavior / complex don't worry!) have little follow through. there are so many competiting interests. namely, $...and time. but this weekend....i took a step. a little step that seemed so crazy to me just a few weeks ago, but now seems quite rational. and of course i am forcing this experiment on sweet ben. enter: cloth diapers! bronwen and i have done a respectable amount of research this past week and both purchased one cloth diaper for our babies. (don't remind me....i know ben is hardly a baby any more!)

you can see how happy he is in his cloth diaper and my sneekers. albiet he looks a bit like a sumo-wrestler.













minutes later there was a diaper malfunction. apparently it only took ben a couple minutes to figure out that the big white obvious velcro works just like on his sneekers and he took it off.













i put it back on, with shorts (that were a little snug with the bulky cloth diaper....yikes, something else to consider!) and he played and napped happy in his super soft cloth diaper. he also peed in his super soft cloth diaper. and i thanked him over and over and over again for not pooping in his super soft cloth diaper. so then it got washed and ready to go for the next trial date, which has not been set. if i'm going to commit to this....i'm going to have to buy more than one. and put it on him more than once. but one step at a time.

be not afraid...

ever since i was a child, i remember being afraid. afraid of being alone. afraid of being hurt. afraid of being lost. afraid of being attacked. afraid of being confined. afraid of dying. or the minutes right before. afraid of losing control. or going crazy. afraid of passing out in public. there are so many other fears i can not list them all. about 4 years ago, these fears manifested themselves into changes in behavior that started affecting my daily life. they stopped me in my tracks. i was afraid to drive on the freeway. somedays afraid to drive at all. afraid to stand in line at the grocery store if there was more than one person behind me. afraid to sit in church except in the back row. afraid to be alone at night. afraid to be in groups of more than a couple people.

the height of these fears coincided with (and directly related to) my first year of marriage, moving to a new apartment, my new husband leaving his job and looking for a new one for 6 months while waiting tables (afraid i was going to have to support our family forever), me taking a promotion that i wasn't quite ready for (afraid of failure), too much travel for my comfort (afraid of getting sick on a plane), and a million other simultaneous transitions like with living with a BOY! all super exciting fun times, but a bit overwhelming when experienced all at once.

with a little help, i was able to identified and label all of these thoughts and irrational fears as anxiety. surprisingly i felt great freedom by just acknowledging it as such. because it wasn't this unknown thing that could swallow me whole. it was something that many, many people live with and succeed in life with. it was something that books were written about and therapists focused on. something that i could talk about. and after tonight i am now thinking that i should have actually read the books and talked to the therapists.

it's been a long time since i have had a full blown anxiety attack. since before i was pregnant with ben. it is as if my body knew that as soon as i got pregnant, i was responsible for another person. and i didn't have time to worry about myself. and all these crazy fears.

but tonight...i was alone. and afriad. on the freeway. it was dark, and i was driving home from a meeting in hollywood. and my heart started racing. it was consuming me. and i could not get away. the cars were coming at me from all directions. so fast. i called greg. and pulled over. and tried to breathe. and i kept thinking why is this happening? i thought i was past this? how am i going to get home. i can't do this. talking to greg helped. i started telling him about my meetings, which got my mind off the fact that i was in the middle of shaddyville off the 5 freeway.

i don't know why i am writing this. i have no clarity. and i feel like i'm hung over.

Lord...you tell us so many times in the bible not to fear. Why am I afriad?

volunteerism....

greg and I just had an impromptu conversation in the kitchen about me not working any more. really i was talking and tired, sick (everyone has the cold and ben coughed three times this evening....please sweet Lord Jesus don't let this turn into a three week long cough) greg was listening to me come to the very rational conclusion that i don't want to work (volunteer) for Seva for no money any longer and the way my calculator sees it, the longer i work (for no money) the longer I'll have to work (for money) to get out of the land of negative pay and ever break even on this hair (ad)venture. and it's looking like years. and that feels like indentured servitude. and i think after the civil war that is against the law. and what if it's just ben and i for a while? is that ok? b/c two kids feels like it looks like ( to the outside world that I don't care what they think) a full time consuming job and justification for not working (outside the home which was really inside the home which never really worked). and i think i'm sore from chasing ben around fashion island yesterday. more sore than when i work out. which brings me to money saving conclusion #2....drop gym membership and take ben to run around fashion island every morning. or somewhere else that does not accept credit cards.

little lives...lost

I have been pregnant three times. And have one precious baby. And two sweet souls that I do not know. It has taken a while, several months, for me to think about these two little lives this way. I mourned the loss of a pregnancy, the loss of the joy of carrying a baby to term, of delivering a new life and growing our family. But I had not mourned the loss of life.

Today, these little lives feel a part of me like any child would. Our souls connected through the undeniable bond of motherhood. And I miss them. I miss who they would be as I approach the due date of our second would be child. There will be babies born this week, and next, that I will know, and love, but not as my own. Lord, help me through this season. Help me to cherish life and not question death.

Isaiah 41:10
So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

I can't help but smile...

What is it about certain childhood memories that are so fresh you can taste them? Smell them? Hear them? Those little moments that you probably didn't even pause in as a child, didn't even think about, just lived in? I come from a family that values routine. So there wasn't a lot of variety. Or a lot of spontaneity. But there certainly were those activities that became rituals or traditions in our little family of four. And when I am reminded of them as an adult, I can't help but smile. We played a lot of golf growing up. And I walked miles down dewy fairways in search of a little white (sometimes hot pink!) ball that had traveled way off course. It was usually hot. And always humid. And when the grass was freshly cut, the little blades left behind would stick to my white leather golf shoes like magnets. And there was this smell. This smell so closely tied to the game and my dad and that course, that I can not separate them in my mind. And today, when I find myself walking by a fresh cut lawn, it takes me back to that fairway. Still looking for the ball.

And we use to go to the lake every weekend as a family in the summer. Lake Conroe in Texas. The boat (a 1976 Viking deck boat) was stored in dry shed a few miles from the boat launch. We'd drive up to Conroe, my brother and I vying for the first lake spotting the entire way, and pick up the boat, put it in the water, and hope the engine started on the first try. The sun was shinning and so hot. I'd be sweating before the boat was even in the water. We'd slowly head out, away from the shore, clamoring for who was going to get the first ski. I'd jump in, feet first, life jacket on, ready to go. The boat would pull me up out of the water, and it felt like I was flying. It was so peaceful. I was alone out on that water. Alone with my thoughts. The view of the shore and water all around. I was on my own island with the wind blowing in my face. And I was happy. And couldn't help but smile. I got so experience that joy on Lake McQueeney this past weekend....do you see the smile?