Pontifications of a Youngest Child

What a day

2009-04-30T14:42:00.005-04:00

To pack...
To move...
To celebrate the Anniversary of Montana's Baptism ...
To celebrate my father-in-law's 60th birthday...
To reflect on the last 5 years in this house...
To reflect on the last 3 1/2 years of life with kids...
To wonder what God has in store for the next 5 years...
the next year...
the next month...
it's a great day to just pause, even though everything inside me is telling me to push on and finish the job.
See, this is Mo. She's 3 1/2. That's how she fell asleep after she woke up from her impromptu nap on the couch this afternoon.
She's not feeling at the top of her game today.
But...
I celebrate the vows I took on her behalf three years ago anyway.
I celebrate the journey she is now on.
The journey of living the God life.
The journey of pursuing love of humankind over love of selfish pursuits.
The journey toward upside down kingdom building and being a co-creator of a better world to love God in.
The journey of reconciliation, redemption, regeneration.
The journey of living out life the way Jesus teaches through scripture and the Church's tradition.
The journey of being a part of a movement that has changed the world.
The journey of treating everyone as a child of God, respecting our environment so we can leave it better for the next generation to serve God in, to serve God's people to the best of her ability by taking care of herself and those whom God puts in her path.

I can't believe this was you three years ago.
I'm so happy God gave me you to be my first born.
I'm so glad God chose me to be your mama.
May you grow knowing that the love of God is deeper, wider, longer, higher, lower, and closer than any other love on earth.
May you grow to love God and his bride with a passion that survives cynicism, with a hope that endures skepticism, and a longing for Truth that transcends our deepest lies.
I love you Montana Skye Baron, but I know there is one who loves you more and you were his before your home was in my womb, before your smile graced my life, before your hugs warmed our bed, and before your friendship touched everyone you meet.
Happy Anniversary!

An Awakening

2009-01-05T11:30:00.004-05:00

Some friends of ours sent us this brilliant little book full of depressing facts about how our dollars are spent.
Over the last four or five years, my husband and I have been on a journey of enlightenment with our consumer power.
It started with the breakfast sandwiches at McDonald's which manifested into McDonald's on a whole which manifested into WalMart...and on and on we went, down the rabbit hole of consumer responsibility. The more we learned about corporations the less freedom we had with what we bought. It was really frustrating and saddening to know that virtually everything we were buying was either supporting companies that practiced unethical things (like child labor, child slavery, inhumane working conditions, or unlivable wages) or contributing toward the deconstruction of virtually all our natural resources.
We've made significant changes in our lives to try to make an impact.
We went down to one vehicle.
We began recycling & composting.
We have chickens.
We continue to boycott Walmart and McD's.
We only buy fair trade coffee or drink at shops that offer it.
We try to support as much local business as is possible for us right now.
and clothing, we pretty much only buy second hand or fair-made products...
Over the last year, however, I am deeply remorseful that I have become rather lax in this area. Not really paying attention to what I'm buying, except for the biggies. Still no Mc D's, Walmart, or buying coffee that isn't fair trade. But we've filled our consumer tummies with new clothing from Old Navy, gas tanks at Shell, etc.
But besides that...
pretty sobering now that I'm looking through this book that our friends sent us. I had no idea it mattered what brand of cheese I bought. Or Chocolate? Come on! So even when I thought we were doing pretty darn good, we weren't. We were still getting a failing grade even with all the changes we made.
Most people don't get us. That's cool. It's still important. It's still about social justice. Especially here in America. There's an old proverb that goes like this: With much power comes much responsibility. It seems to me, our consumer power, is one of the most powerful powers to have. And so goes with it some of the most responsibility for how we spend it.
Little things, baby steps, one chocolate bar at a time. I believe 2009 can be a year of real change. Not just in political power but in consumer power.
I'm awake!
I'm paying attention!
It's a new year and I'm convinced my dollars can make a difference this year. So can yours.
Peace & Subversion!
P.S.
If you have even had an inkling of enlightenment about consumer spending you have got to pick up this book and stick it in your purse, bag, planner, what ever you bring when you spend money. Or go to this website for more information The Better World Shopping Guide.

She's Got

2008-12-08T19:40:00.002-05:00

STYLE!!!!

Wow! When it comes to bedtime around here, Momo is nothing but fashion. She INSISTS on picking out her own clothes for daytime & night, but her nighttime choices are down right ridiculous. She is a stitch! Some part of her ensemble has to be in layers; top, bottom, sometimes both.
Gotta love that independence...especially when it isn't naughty:)

This girl

2008-12-07T14:02:00.003-05:00

is so special. She makes my heart skip a beat when she wakes up all cuddled between her papa and I.
She also brings about more tension and tears because she is so curious and wants to be so big and is one of those people who ends up finding things out the hard way.
This morning, I was lying in bed nursing Maggie and Mo woke up. Christian went and made sure she was ok then he gave her her reward for staying put in bed all night...one piece of coveted candy. When she had all but finished she came into our room and showed me her candy fingers and shared with me the good news, that she had stayed in her bed "All da night, mama!" I said, "Good job, Momo...now, can you go find a wash cloth and wipe your fingers clean?" So she pranced off in her precious three year old way and a few minutes later I heard the most awful sounds a mother could hear. I almost didn't believe my ears because I couldn't process what she could've been doing this on.
It was the sound of my baby girl choking.
I don't even think I unlatched Maggie, I just lept from bed and shouted, "Oh my God, she's choking!" and ran to her. She was gagging and drooling and crying. I scooped her up and ran to the bathroom hoping something would register in my pee brain before it was too late. By the time we got there enough of it had melted that she could breathe a little and talk to me. I asked her what she was choking on and she couldn't tell me so we came out to the kitchen. Christian asked her again, "hunny, what did you eat?"
We saw one of the kitchen table chairs pulled up to the cupboard. Christian went to the cupboard and opened it up. One of the bottles of medicine had been tampered with.
He asked her if she ate any of these and she cried and said "yes."
I got the phone and called Poison Control 1-800-222-1222.
I was put on hold for other emergencies...
We kept asking her questions as we were waiting and they weren't coming back.
The bottle she had gotten into was my bottle of stool softeners from after Maggie was born! Great! I don't know what the crap is in those things but what ever it is it can't be good for a three year old!
The nurse asked me how she got into where the medicine was. I told her she pulled a chair over to the counter and climbed up, opened the cupboard door and searched for some "candy."
We tried to find out how many she had taken.
"Tree". Everything is in threes because SHE'S three!
I couldn't wait any longer so I hung up and called back.
I said I couldn't wait b/c my three year old just ingested some medicine and I don't know how much and I don't know what to do.
She told us to have her drink some liquids then walked us through what the medicine was, MGs, how many were gone before, could we see any that were spat out, etc.
Then while we were talking, Christian was investigating to make sure none of the other medicines up there had been tampered with. He found another bottle that wasn't child-proof: Bear Aspirin. He showed it to me and Momo said, "I ate some of those too." I told the nurse on the line and she said, "Huh, ok, how many do you think she ate?" My best guess was between 1 and 7. They were the 325 MG ones too, not the baby aspirin.
He pulled out the children's gummy vitamins and asked her about that and she said she didn't eat any of those because she couldn't open the bottle!
The nurse was concerned about the aspirin.
I started to cry. I had held it together until then but lost it when I learned she had eaten aspirin. The nurse also said she was concerned about that.
We concluded the conversation with our best guess that she had probably only eaten one since they would taste so bad and children chew pills b/c they think it's candy, they don't swallow them like grown-ups. I did not know that. That was the best news I had heard all day!
She drank some water and I made her breakfast. Things were calming down when I heard Gretchen wake up. I was turning off the water and wiping my hands dry to go get her and heard the next worse sound a mother can hear. An enormous THUD! then silence. Then a shrill scream by my baby girl! I ran into her room to find her flat on her back on the ground.
She's only 18 months old.
Mo didn't try climbing out of her crib until she was two.
The only reason Gretta could do that was because I finally threw the crib tent I'd had since Mo was two away because I walked in on Gretta almost hanging herself in the giant hole she had made worse by dangling from it when she'd first wake up!
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
So,
1. We are moving all medicines to a box and putting them on TOP of the cupboard because Mo knows how to get our door locks open, and continue to drill into her that medicine is only to be given by grown ups and only when you're sick;
and
2. we'll be getting another tent because Gretch is no where near ready for a big girl bed, and mama can not take one more event like this morning.
P.S.
The whole time Maggie was just quietly waiting for me to come back and get her.
I don't remember what Christian was doing or where he was. I'm sure he was right there but it's all so fuzzy.

Holiday Greetings To You ALl

2008-12-07T14:00:00.001-05:00

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Magnolia Jayne

2008-10-26T21:34:00.007-04:00

It was about 1:30 a.m. on October 22, 2008. My parents had taken the girls up north to visit my brothers earlier that day and Christian worked till 11:30 p.m. I relaxed on the couch, took a couple naps, and waited. It was weird. After trying pretty much everything in the book to get my labor started, nothing was working. For three days I would get some pretty nice contractions for a few hours then I'd go lay down and they would fizzle out. When I had my cervix checked on Monday I was between a 1 & 2 and the baby's head was down & low. I guess I finally decided I was just going to have to wait until the baby was ready.
Well, back to the time. It was around 1:30 a.m. and Christian & I spent some time talking when he got home from work then we decided we had better get to bed in case I went into labor. We laid down and Christian immediately fell asleep. I wish I could have. As soon as my head hit the pillow the contractions really started. Then about 10 minutes later I felt/heard the "pop". I touched Christian and said, "hunny, my water just broke." He sat up and said, "OK! Now what?" So we got up and I called our Doula, Angela who said to call her in a half hour and let her know if the contractions are steady or not. We put in our favorite movie, The Big Labowski, and made sure all our stuff was together. I sat down on the ball and tried to let in as much oxygen as I could through breathing. Half hour later I called our doula back and she said she'd meet us at the hospital.
Off we went.
Amazingly enough I dilated a little more. I was a three and 75% effaced. We were totally relaxed and calm. We got settled into our labor & delivery room and the contractions were getting increasingly intense. My team was on it though! That was about 3 a.m. that we got into the room and got into a groove. Not much else happened the rest of the morning. We just took once contraction at a time and changed positions as often as possible. It was good.
Then around 12:30 my doctor came in and was disappointed that I still was only a 4 but was 100% effaced. I had been having some really intense contractions and had just gotten out of the most amazing shower of my life!

The contractions were manageable, for the most part, but I was getting really tired and discouraged myself. It had been 9 hours.
Then we started talking about time. My doctor wasn't on call that night and she had family obligations after 5 that she needed to honor so one of her partners was going to have to take over if I went past 5. The partner that was going to be on was the male doctor at the practice. I wasn't prepared for my reaction that came but I became very anxious and asked her what my options were so I wouldn't have to have him deliver my baby.
The male doctor is a really nice guy, but I just couldn't have him deliver my baby. I was having visceral reactions to the thought of an older man...
anyway, it got pretty scary for me and I started to cry. My doula kept telling me to let it go, I had bigger things to be focused on right now...I tried as I may, I did, but I couldn't.
We discussed my options: Epadural or possibly having one of the midwives deliver with the doctor standing by. They called on the midwife while Christian and I talked alone.
He centered me once again. And I was able to return to the present and focus on the beautiful life we were about to bring into the world. When Angela returned she had wonderful news, Gail (the midwife) had agreed to do the delivery!
One more obstacle to overcome.
Baby was transverse so he/she had to turn either 45 degrees or 280 degrees. Doc had tried the 45 degree angle and no go, baby just popped right back. So onto my left side I went. The incredible blood flow on my left side made my contractions sent me through the roof! I couldn't believe how difficult that next one was. It was the longest one yet, the most painful yet, and I hardly took my breath and another one came on.
I got up because I couldn't take it. I went to the bathroom and cried. When I came back I said to my doula and husband. "I'm done...I'm physically and emotionally spent and I still need to open 6 cm and push this baby out. Not to mention I need to take care of myself, new baby, and my other two children...I need to keep things in perspective and get some relief so I can finish what's a head of me." The thoughts about: 1. the time limit I was on having ruptured membranes for 12 hours now and may have to have a c/s anyway if I go 12 more hours and no baby; 2. the extreme pain I was in with every contraction; and 3. The frazzlement I experienced with the thought of having a man I barely new delivering my baby all made me think I needed to stand up for myself and do what I felt was best.
They both said, "This is your show, Jodi." I said, "Let's try an epidural." They paged the anesthesiologist and within a minute they were in prepping me for the big one. I only had to muster through two more contractions (one of which was happening during the placement...ouch!) before it started taking effect. When I laid down on my back to let it "soak" in, Angela looked at me and asked me, "Did you feel those?" I said, "Feel what?" (I was still catching my breath, it had only been maybe two minutes) She said, "You just had like 4 contractions on top of each other." I said, "where's the anesthesiologist, I want to thank him." I started laughing and the whole atmosphere changed. I looked over at the little bassinet that I had completely ignored up until that point and said, "Oh look at the little hat, we're gonna have a bay-bee!"
A few minutes later the nurse checked me and said I was an 8! Ok, so that was the right move, obviously...
I moved onto my right side to see if the baby would turn that way and stayed there for about an hour. When they checked me again, I was stalled at an 8. Back onto my left side I went since it seemed to produce the most productive contractions.
I was able to feel the next ones and we new it must be getting close.

About a half hour later (it was now about 3:30) I told Angela and Christian that I felt something between my legs. Angela went out in the hall to grab Doctor Andersson and she came in to check me and looked under the sheet. She yelled out, "Oh my gosh. Baby's head is right there, get the bed ready, you're having a baby!"
Three pushes later I delivered my baby girl with hardly any effort. I had three tiny stitches. My placenta even delivered like a breeze. I was amazed.

And here she is...Magnolia Jayne Baron.
3:34 p.m. * 7# 7.5 oz. * 21 inches long * Beautiful
A peaceful experience from start to finish.
A totally satisfying birth experience.
A huge amount of gratitude to all our friends and family who supported us with prayer through the whole time.
A huge thank you to our doula, Angela, our doctor, Lisa, and the other doctors and midwives at the practice who were sensitive and empathetic to my situation and history and willing to accommodate and sacrifice for my mental and spiritual safety.
Happy Birthday Baby Girl.
We truly are complete with you here.

An Update On Us...

2008-09-28T20:59:00.002-04:00

I can't believe she's 3! Last tuesday we celebrated this adorable little girls' third birthday. We made cake (that turned out this time), took her to the "Sylvi-ann" (Children's Museum), had pancakes for lunch, PBJ's for supper, and opened three gifts...
1. From us
2. From grandma & grandpa in Florida
3. From her best friend

We drove by the "broken restaraunt" at least four times for her and just tried to make it as special as we could.
This kind of took us by surprise. See, we had thought we probably wouldn't celebrate birthdays but as the day approached and she understood "party" more and more...we just couldn't resist. We agreed we'd make it intentional and low key though. A family affair. I liked it. It was perfect. Papa's side of the family does clump-style birthdays (spring, summer, fall, winter) so she'll have that type of party her whole life with them, which is always a hoot!
_____________________________________________________________________

This little one is 16 months already! She's walking, babbling, cutting a million teeth, and making us laugh everyday! She loves to tackle her sister, share with her sister, and generally do anything her sister is doing. She's her own cookie though, too.
She's such a joy to be around. Like her big sister, she steals the show when she enters a room. Her bright eyes, goofy demeanor, and infectious laughter, general passerby is sure to stop me and tell me how beautiful she is.
People do that all the time no matter which girl I have with me. If I have both they say, "Wow, you have gorgeous girls." I'm mostly flattered when they say that, because I know they mean well. But, honestly, sometimes I wish they'd just admire and keep their comments to themselves. Not because it's mean to say someone's got a cute kid. Because it makes me flash forward 10+ years to when it's not going to be so pleasant thinking about how beautiful my daughters are and having nightmares about the boys they may want us to meet...or not!
I digress...
____________________________________________________________________

And me...I'm approximately 37 weeks preggo with our third baby. I'm feeling good for the most part, but I'm definately sportin' the preggo waddle. I walk slower than my toddlers, for real. I'm mentally prepared for this delivery and excited to do all the newborn stuff...one...more...time.
Christian and I talk all the time about what it's going to be like to be a family with three kids, what we should name the baby should it be a girl or boy, should we stay put or move into a bigger place...all those things.
My contractions have started, although nothing regular yet...kinda like it was with Gretta three days before true labor began. Baby's head is engaged and my cervix is beginning to do it's thang...so only time will tell.
____________________________________________________________________
And now the chix:
This is a picture of a ISA brown hen.
Which we have one of.
She looks alot like this one.
Beautiful reddish brown feathers, bright red combs and they lay over 300 brown eggs a year.
We haven't come up with names for them yet.
Maybe Brown eyed girl...
Maybe not.
Time will tell.
We love her nonetheless...
Even though she has no name.
She, I think, was our first one to start laying.
Our "early bloomer"...if you will.
When she skips a day of laying, we get a HUGE egg the next day and it's a double yolker!
Mo loves to collect her eggs.

This is our Rhoad Island Red Hen.
As chicks these two looked identical.
As they got older,
this one got a longer neck than the ISA.
We named this one Big Bird because of her long neck.
She's supposed to lay 300 some eggs too.
Her comb is starting to turn red.
We don't think she's laying yet though.
Hard to tell unless you catch them in the box.
Well, that's not totally true.
Christian said he read that hens start laying down in submission when they are "mature".
This one does but there's only been one egg a day in there so we don't think it's happening quite yet.
She's pretty though too.
Smoothe reddish brown feathers on top.
Pale light brown underneath.

This is a picture of a Barred Rock Hen.
We have one of her also.
I like her because she's fiesty.
I think we named her Janice.
She's the hardest to catch when we let to roam.
She just started laying down when we approach too.
Not sure if it's her or the Big Bird...
She's black and white speckled witha bright red comb.
Very pretty.
Mo always wants to hold this one.
But, like I said, she's the toughest to catch.
Maybe that's why she's the most desireable.
Who knows...
She's usually the first to roost though.
I'm telling you,
she's the smartest bird of the family.

And finally,
A photo of the Americana Hens.
We have two of these interesting hens.
These are our easter ladies.
We call them Mary & Martha.
Get it?
Not really.
We don't have names for them either.
They are our easter egg layers though.
Blue, green, purple...
something like that.
They cool part is...
We don't know what color they'll be,
but what ever color they start with is what they'll always lay.
These two are laying down for us too...
But we're just not sure which ones are laying!
We found three little "starter" eggs on our side porch the other day though.
That was really exciting.
So...
it total we have Five Hens of which at least two are laying.
One is laying on a regular basis.
Soon we'll be having almost a dozen every other day.
I like to give away our eggs. It's really fun. They taste so much better than the factory hens too.
____________________________________________________________________

And Christian? Well, he's beautiful but I don't have a picture of him right now.
He just started a new job working with teenage refugee boys through Bethany Christian Services. He loves it. He works for our friend, Luke, who just had a baby girl, Cora...congratulations man. The boys are from Burma and Iraq... so far.
Ask him about the details here.
Well, that's that for now.
Hope you all are well.

RTBFF, part II

2008-09-16T10:35:00.003-04:00

Ok, so I just told Christian that this is the most outrageous thing I've ever read or heard someone say about a character in the Bible. This alone says a lot about how I was raised (not parentally but theologically).
I'm still getting through Rescuing the Bible From Fundamentalism by John Shelby Spong and just read some of his thoughts about Paul's writings. Kind of like why he "loathed" himself so much.
I do agree that often in his writings he seems to beat himself up a lot, but I never gave much thought to it because I always just assumed there was something else to learn than to hate myself.
Anyway, I want to share a passage from the book of Spong's theories. Not because I'm some antagonist, anyone who knows me knows I typically avoid conflict at all costs. Mostly because I hope it will spur you, my friends, to pontificate with me on this issue. Think with me for a moment what it would be like to re-read the letters from Paul in this light.

"With the softening of that homophobic stance we might consider the hypothesis that Paul may have been a gay male..." (pg. 116)
"For a moment assume the possibility that this theory is correct and look with me again at the writings of Paul and, more important, at the meaning of Christ, resurrection, and grace in the life of this foundational Christian." (pg. 117)
"Nothing else, in my opinion, could account for Paul's self-judging rhetoric, his negative feeling toward his own body, and his sense of being controlled by something he had no power to change." (pg. 117)
Whoa! There it is. It's out there.
Pontificate.
Note: I'm not reading this book for any other reason than the title intrigued me because I was raised fundamentalist and am in the process of un-becoming fundamentalist because it no longer fits with my paradigm of how I view God and humanity. Most of what this author says has been way radical for my taste but it is interesting, nonetheless, to read it, think about it, and engage other people in my circle of influence to think about it. I'm not in danger by reading this. It's just one person's opinion, which I am now sharing with you. No offense is intended.

Five More Weeks

2008-09-13T21:33:00.002-04:00

Well, here it goes...

I can't sleep because it's mostly just totally uncomfortable at this point and reading is almost impossible because I can't focus long enough to finish a paragraph, and watching t.v. is out as our tube has busted, once again.

So, I was looking at how long it's been since I've blogged and decided to write about what's currently on my brain.

Five More Weeks.

In a little more than five weeks, plus or minus the whole thing, we will be embarking upon another journey of birth. My mind is having trouble getting past that part. The birth part.

See, last time wasn't that long ago and it got really scary and hurt really bad and I remember it. I remember it all. Every detail.

We hired a doula for this time around though because I was almost hyper-ventilating thinking about the end of the pregnancy meaning the baby had to somehow come out!

C-section was no good for me either... so I figured it out: I'll be pregnant the whole time then someone else birth it! That would be perfect. Although, these days are leaving me less enthusiastic about the pregnancy part too.

I'm really sorry if you're a mom-to-be reading this thinking, "Sheese. She's pretty negative." Or a mom who loves being pregnant and giving birth. I'm not that woman. I love being pregnant but sometimes get grossed out thinking about a human being living inside my uterus and that this child is in the same ute that my other two children lived in. I don't know. Seems weird. Just being honest here.

Don't get me wrong, I love my children, I love my babies, these are just my pregnancy hormonal jaded feelings spewing out for the world to read and some day hold against me. Oh well.

I'm trying to make the best of this one, last time around...pretend I'm excited about pushing a 7# human out my *%^&$! while my husband watches in horror at what is happening...really I am.

Tuesday our doula will be coming over to discuss labor. That's it! For two hours we'll learn from her 15+ years of helping women and their partners have beautiful positive experiences. I told her she's got a lot of work to do before I'll be able to call this positive.

My goal: Be able to talk about the birth of my youngest child without crying within the first two weeks post-par tum.

We'll see if it happens. I sure hope so. Otherwise that blog entry will be something of a downer!

Fatal Wounds

2008-08-05T09:54:00.002-04:00

This is a soothie brand pacifier. It has been my oldest daughter's "friend" since she was about 2 weeks old. It was able to "soothe" her in a split second like nothing else. Not even mama. She is about to turn 3 next month and yes, she still used it for owies and night time until two nights ago when the last one, looking much like the one in the above picture, suffered a fatal wound from excessive biting.
The nipple came detached.
It was so sad.
I watched as my almost three year-old tried to repair it, crying, mourning the loss of something so special in her life.
We had been working up to this moment for about 6 months or so after the other one broke off her other special hand-made "ya-ya". We told her if she kept biting her "nuk" (that's what she called it) it too would eventually brake and we weren't going to be buying any more pacifiers for her.
The night before this happened she had declared to us that she no longer wanted it! So weird. Anyway, I said to her that I'd take it off and put it aside and if she still wanted me to throw it away, I would in the morning. She fell asleep that night between us, no pacifier, for the first time since she was 2 weeks old!
Next morning she came running into my room screaming for her nuk. I gave it back to her, figuring she just wasn't quite ready for it.
Then nap time came... when this "accident" occurred.
I asked her what we needed to do with it since it was broken.
She quickly, sadly, responded..."throw it away."
I said, "Do you want Mama to do it or do you want to?"
She said, "I will."
Then she got down out of her bed, crying, and head hung low, and slowly walked over to the garbage can where she laid it in its final resting place. Then she ran back to my arms weeping as though her best friend had just died. I rocked her until she fell asleep singing a little lullaby.
It really was that sad.
Since then, this child has had to relearn how to navigate through life without her pink soothie. Conflict, owies, sleeptime, nervousness...they all have to be dealt with differently. And we have to show incredible compassion and teach her new ways to handle stress.
I wish I had someone there to show me healthy ways to deal with stress.
I told my husband that it felt like she was a baby again, with us having to help her figure out for herself how she was going to choose to deal with situations.
Anyway, that was her babyhood. We said good-bye. Now she has little that identifies her as a baby and more that identifies her as a big girl.
Next it's going to be diapers at naptime.
Then at night.
Then the special blanket only in her room.
I hope we don't ever have to have this conversation about her special blanket. that would be truly too sad. It's full of all her smells.
I don't even want to go there.

Does the Bible Need Rescuing?

2008-07-21T14:04:00.002-04:00

I started another book that is pretty controversial and many of my friends and family will think I've gone off the deep end for even picking it up...but I have. I did. The name of the book is "Rescuing the Bible from Fundamentalism: A Bishop Rethinks the Meaning of Scripture" by John Shelby Spong. He's an Episcopal Bishop and author of other books such as; Honest Prayer, This Hebrew Lord, Beyond Moralism, and Living in Sin? A Bishop Rethinks Human Sexuality. I won't go into too much about him because I honestly don't know much about him other than he has a different point of view on almost all theological matters than anyone I've ever known, and that intrigues me.
It intrigues me that there could exist in the same universe two polarizing-ly opposite points of view about God, Scripture, and Spirituality. It intrigues me that I could have lived 31 years having never heard some of these points of view, especially not from "the horse's mouth". It intrigues me that, as I'm reading, I can hear my theological cornerstones being shattered. My entire framework from which I've operated for my entire life is being shred to pieces, leaving me to be but a speck of failed fundamentalist upbringing.
Obviously this is the "deconstruction" phase of the book, taking me, the reader, through his arguments of why scripture is NOT meant to be read, lived, or taken literally. How limiting such a world-view is.
This is just the first 5 chapters. It's really hard to read this and keep an open mind to see me through to the redeeming part of the book, which is sure to come.
Now, keep in mind...I'm not a scholar or trained in anything relating to the Bible. I'm just an ordinary Christian trying to make sense of what I think is going on.
Occasionally I happen upon someone much smarter than myself who has thought about these things much more deeply than I probably ever will. Hopefully this will be the case. We shall see.

What Am I supposed To Do Now?

2008-06-05T14:05:00.003-04:00

Have you read this book yet? I'm in the process of reading it and...I'll be honest. It's kind of upsetting.
Not upsetting because of the lies it tells or hatred it portrays.
No.
It's much worse.
It's because of the truth it tells.
It's deep, penetrating truth.
I can't escape it.
It's brought the knowledge of Jesus Christ and what he did for us to life.
It challenges me to live that life.
It's showing me the reality of how dangerous it is to follow Jesus.
Not the American Jesus.
The real Jesus.
Claiborne talks about all the things he's been jailed for, fined for, scolded for, etc.
It's all what Jesus told us to fight for.
Not with guns and bombs but with love.
I really can't even believe I'm saying this.
His book is really making me think about what it means to be a follower of Jesus.
I hope you read this book. I hope you buy it, or at the very least borrow it from someone. I am only just now reading it because we had lent it out to so many people before I snatched it off our shelves when it was returned this last time! It was a close one though. Christian was looking for it and I sheepishly admitted that I had stashed it so I could read it when I was finished with Sex God, by Rob Bell.
Anyway. I'd love to get into a discussion about this book. I think it'd be a great book club book. There's so much to it. Even a BLOG doesn't lend itself to the things it's unearthed inside my soul.
Happy reading.
P.S. Here's the link to amazon incase you are a booky too:) Click Here

I'm back...

2008-05-22T08:56:00.004-04:00

This is an attempt to encapsulate my time in New Orleans which was brief, wonderful, and awful all at the same time.
I'll begin with this picture. This is my friends Lisa and Julianne. There was another friend who was somewhere else when this picture was taken, Emma, who was equally wonderful to get to know but I failed to get a picture with.
Anyway. This picture was taken on the last day at the family's house we were fixin' up. The house had been all but destroyed when the levees broke after the hurricane Katrina went through in August of 2005.
Without sharing the whole story of how this family came to live here, sufice it to say they were one of the countless families who lost everything but their lives in the storm and now are living paycheck to paycheck to pay the outlandish mortgage payments, tax payments, and insurance. I don't know if you caught this or not but we were fixing up their home so they could live in it. So where are they living currently?
This is where they are currently living.
Behind their house in the one room garage converted into a home over a year ago where mom, dad, their nine children (ages 15-3), and dog, Roxie...reside.
They have amazing optimism and inspiring hope for all this.
During the last day together the mom came in as we were setting up and she went to the back room where here youngest two children will sleep. She paced back and forth and had a glommy look about her, which we hadn't experienced. When one of my commrads asked her what was going on, she just talked about the water that had appeared from the storm the previous night. I can only imagine the fear that was rushing through her as she relived those horrible days and weeks where survival kicked in and the life they had known became a distant memory.
It's kind of like after you're in a car accident...for weeks, or months afterwards you jump every time a car approaches the area you were hit. You get tense the moment you sit behind the wheel. Maybe you can't even get yourself to get behind the wheel.
Some people have shrugged their shoulders when I told them where I just spent the last 10 days. They say, "Why bother?"
To that I say this...
With all sincerity...this is why I went.
Because God "bothered" to send us Jesus to lift us out of our despair and save us from our hopelessness.
The love I know because of Jesus sent me to New Orleans and sends me forth to seminary to be a reconciling agent for The Church.
I hope more people will continue to make that treck to Mississippi and Louisiana to give a piece of hope back to the people of those areas.
I hope people will be inspired to give of themselves a portion of what's been given to them to bring about heaven on earth.
I hope people so passionately pursue being agents of love, hope, and peace that the world won't have to ask why we do what we do, they'll know because it so encompasses the work of Jesus' followers.
So from now on when anyone asks me what it was like, I'm going to give them this website http://odr.edola.org/volunteer/planning_your_trip.html
and encourage them to grab 5-6 other folks and go see for yourself!
God's Peace!

I'm leaving...

2008-05-07T23:16:00.004-04:00

Yes. In less than 48 hours I will be heading down south. Deep south. To Lousianna, New Orleans to be specific. I am one of over 30 volunteers from the Diocese of Western Michigan who will be lending a helping hand to rebuilding the city after the devastating hurricane Katrina hit over 4 years ago.
As I prepare for this 9 day mission trip, I reflect on what that hurricane has done and continues to do to so many people. And way up here, in breezy Western Michigan? We don't even remember what year Katrina hit. It's never on the news anymore. The thousands of people who are still displaced, not able to return to their family home...more than four years after the fact.
It makes me feel guilty, sometimes.
Living here, having my kitchen remodeled while I type on my computer and my kids are sleeping sound in the next room.
Or when "things" like Meyanmar happen! What the heck?
I heard on the news today that officials are estimating the death toll to reach 100,000 people. That's the whole entire city of Grand Rapids! And their government won't let foreign aid experts in to help st0p the toll from rising.
Why aren't more people outraged by this type of paranoia? Why aren't more people rising up to save the citizens of this country whom their government has, essentially, abandoned?
My grandparents lost pretty much everything they had accumulated in their 55+ years of marriage when Ivan hit central Florida 5 years ago. They had to start completely over at age 75 and 80.
I hope our efforts in New Orleans are well received and that the kingdom of God is glorified through our hands and feet. May we honor and respect the lives and possessions of God's children in New Orleans while trying to put a few pieces of their shattered lives back together.
Peace.
P.S. Pray for Christian and the girls while I'm gone. Pray that they will enjoy the company of my dear father who came up from Florida to help while I'm away. Pray they will remember to pray for their mama and wife who will miss them incredibly.

Incredibly Unispired...

2008-04-10T11:02:00.002-04:00

I know it's been forever since I've posted. I've been in a serious "dry" spell for something to write about. It's not that my life is...that boring. It's just that the things I've "had" to write about I don't really feel like writing about.
For instance.
1. My pregnancy--it's still in the beginning, not very exciting.
2. Car situation just makes me get all stressed out
3. Discernment is at a stand-still until I finish my letter to the Bishop
4. the kids are adorable and growing like crazy but I spend all day talking about them and with them.
5. My marriage. It's great, we've been together for 9 years now (married almost 8), but I just wrote one about him last time...no offense Christian.
6. Church, Spiritual Direction...it's all there, loving it, just not writing material...

So, in the meantime, until something inspires me to write...know that I am well, my kiddos are well, my hubby is well, and all is...well, well!

Leave a message at the beep.

Knocked Up

2008-02-13T14:03:00.003-05:00

Ok, so this guy didn't get me knocked up...

But this guy did...

So now I'm hosting our third little womb dweller.
We're happy, really we are...just a little shocked.
I love this little peanut already though.
Wonder if it's going to be another girl or if God's
going to shake things up and give us a boy.
We're both fine with either.
Do you have any old-wives-tale predictions?

I'm sorry Karla...

2008-02-04T09:18:00.001-05:00

This picture is my sweet girl, Montana. Who at this very moment is throwing the most adorable two year old temper tantrum I've witnessed to- date. All over mean mom not letting her go bye-bye or type on the computer, etc., etc., etc.
She wanted to see a picture of herself which is why I put this one up. It's her 2 year-old photo.
So, what does that have to do with the title of my post? Nothing. Isn't that beautiful. Embrace it.
The title of this post is b/c my friend Karla posted a comment on an earlier post that I had to delete. Not because of her comment but because of my post. The post was important to reflect on but divulged too much information about "detalles" surrounding our circumstances for "the internet". Soooooo...Here's take two on Stress, Grumpiness, and General Discontentment.

Stress has been high around here for about a month now. Christian and I were encouraged to listen to last week's This American Life.
It had some interesting things about our life.
The last story in particular seemed to resonate especially close to home.
It was about the emotion-drain some people take on you because of the lives they live and when you try to help them. It's amazing, really, how easy it is to get consumed by things that are bothering you. It becomes almost toxic.
The other day, for example, I was so sad. It was deeper than sad. It was...well...bad.
I sat in the girls room and just cried. I couldn't think about what it was that I was supposed to do next. I couldn't get unstuck from the weeping I was in the midst of.
And I felt very...un-priestly.
What ever my notions were or are about becoming a priest...these last few weeks I haven't felt like I'm cut out for it.
I wanted to throw in the towel. Go lay down and sleep until this all just went away. I didn't want to see or talk to anyone because I'd have to somehow pretend that things are honkey dory due to the fact that no-one knows what to do with people who are depressed. Well, I couldn't pretend. The junk was spilling out and I was crumbling.
Then I talked with Christian about it later and he said he had been feeling the same way at work the night before.
He had posted a request for prayer for us with some friends at the Hippie Christian Bulletin Board.
They did pray. Thank you guys.
Well, the next day was much better...180 degrees better. Internally I felt like a million bucks. Which I haven't felt like in a long time. Must have been the grieving tears I wept the night before. I heard somewhere that that kind of crying cleanses the soul. A "Good Cry," my mom used to say.
Each day we look forward to God's mercies in our lives. Each day we count our blessings. Each day we praise God for the Grace to be alive, have a house, family and great friends.
But, sometimes...evil creeps in under our noses and takes over for a moment.

Global Warming

2008-01-11T15:29:00.000-05:00

"I believe that global warming is a myth. And so, therefore, I have no conscience problems at all and I'm going to buy a Suburban next time. "
Jerry Falwell

"Now, when we face a problem like global warming, and you understand that the biggest impacts on global warming come from business and industry, I think business needs to take a leading role. "
Jerry Greenfield

"Global warming is not a conqueror to kneel before - but a challenge to rise to. A challenge we must rise to. "
Joe Lieberman

Top 50 Things You Can Do

Some of my inspiration as of late.

Hide and Seek

2008-01-07T10:23:00.000-05:00

This is m's favorite game to play lately. she really likes to hide in our cupboard. this morning she managed to get past the "child-proof" lock on one side of the cupboard and exclaimed, "Mama, I hide!" "Ok," I said, and went about my work. A minute later (that's a long time in a two-year-old's world) I looked around the corner and she was still in there. Perplexed as to why she hadn't screamed for help or called for me to find her, I went over to the cupboard. I opened the door and caught her RED handed with her face covered in evidence and hands in the bag up to her shoulder. In the dark of the cabinet she had found our stash of peanut-brittle. She was feasting on it behind closed doors! I exclaimed, "Montana! What are you doing? How did you...what are you...NO! You can't just gorge yourself on peanut brittle!" What a stinker! She started laughing and I did too, I couldn't help it...she wasn't doing it to be naughty, she'd never done it before nor had we ever told her she couldn't. It hadn't occurred to me that she would try such a thing if I let her "hide" in there.
Que cera cera. The things you learn having a curious two-year-old. Gotta love 'em.

My Children...My Life...My Love...

2007-12-30T21:29:00.000-05:00

This is Montana, she's my eldest daughter, she's two and three months. I love her. She is currently suffering from "pink eye", no more crib, no more diaper, and no more baby-cries-syndrome. It is mostly precious but sometimes irritating, if I can be honest. I love it that she is becoming more independent...however, with independence comes responsibility...is she really ready for that?????? Are any of us really ready for that???????

This is Gretchen. She is 7 months and two weeks old. I just felt her first tooth today. Bottom Right! She has been such a delight these past few weeks since we switched to the bottle. I am so glad we did. Although I mourned the weening process, I rejoiced that I was able to step outside of myself and do what was best for my daughter...that was really hard, since there is so much lack of understanding among "hard-core" breast-feeders. I've tried to make it to a year with both my girls now, both have weened them selves by 7-9 months. My sister-in-law, who's a "Lactation Consultant" had all three of her children do the same thing...as soon as they could figure out that they were "missing" out on something, they wanted nothing to do with "it" anymore.
Another friend of mine sympathized with my sadness when she said, "It was similar for me when I was miscarrying all those times...my body just wasn't doing what it was supposed to do and that was hard for me to get my mind around." I felt like my mourning was much less significant than my dear friend's profound and multiple loss but appreciated that someone understood, ever so more than I even did, the pain I felt not being able to provide life-sustaining- whatever for my infant, which all studies show is best for the baby.
This is my baby. She is so wonderful. BOTH my girls are!

These are my children...this is my life...this is my love...

Christmas Party With Mi Familia

2007-12-20T23:24:00.000-05:00

So, a few days before Christmas my parents flew home to be with us for my side's expression of Christmas Love.

These are pictures of my two brothers, their wives, my neices and nephew, and parents...oh yeah, and you'll maybe recognize the dashinly handsome man and cuddly little bumpkin...Christian & Gretta!

It's been really interesting to see how Christmas is celebrated from one year to the next between our two families and how we think we'll celebrate this holiday and others.

We're not sold on any one way yet, but this year we "thought" more about the season of Advent, The Season of Christmas, and even The Season of Epiphany.

My hope is that what ever either of our families do from year to year Glory and Honor is brought to God from whom every good thing comes.

Christian

2007-12-12T20:43:00.001-05:00

This is Christian.
He is good at lots of things.
He's really good at making me laugh, cry, think, and other things I shouldn't publish on the web.
I love this man. He's been my best friend and love of my life for over 8 years (9 years in April is when we met).
Sometimes he's not good at picking out movies.
The other night was no exception.
He picked out TWO awful movies.
We watched one together. He suffered through the other on his own at work, Thanks Be to God!
The one we watched was Paris, je t'aime.
The only, and I'm not exaggerating one bit, good line I pulled from it was this scene where this couple met up in a restaurant where the husband was about to tell his wife he was leaving her for another woman when she pulled out a diagnosis of a terminal illness. He immediately abandoned his intentions and "rose to the occassion." He abandoned his mistress and took care of his dying wife. One line from it was this:

"He began acting like a man in love and soon he was a man in love."

We both looked at each other and said, "The Next Good Thing."
But I thought about it more and more and thought, "Man, that's a wise piece of advice for marriage. Act like you're in love, even when you're not, and soon those flutters will return.
We've been married awhile now. I think we can say that we've shared our ups and downs. Although, thankfully, we've never experienced infidelity, we've also had our share of problems. One of the things I love and appreciate most about this man is that he randomly "dates" me all over again. And when he does I'm hit with flutters. I've never really ever lost my flutters for him. In fact, I love him more today than I did when I married him 7 years, 3 months, and 16 days ago. In fact, I couldn't imagine loving him any more than I do today, but history has shown that's just not possible. My heart continues to enlarge to make room for my undying devotion and adoration, and lovey-dovey-wovey feelings every day.

I love you Christian. I didn't know love before I met you. I am so thankful for you.

Knitting

2007-11-26T10:16:00.000-05:00

My journey with knitting began almost 10 years ago (mixed in with an attempt to crochet also) when I decided to pick it up one day after declaring I was done smoking. I got some yarn from my mom and a couple needles and asked someone how to cast on. That only lasted about a week (the knitting that is). But I didn't learn how to cast off...so it was bound to be a really long scarf it I kept it up. So for everyone's best interest I sat the needles down.
Next time I picked up needles was two years ago. I held onto all that yarn and never did a thing with it! We were visiting our friends Sid & Kate and Kate was knitting a baby afghan for a friend of hers. A flicker of interest lit and I asked her to teach me. She lent me (which I still have Kate if you're reading) a pair of her needles and gave me two colors of yarn and told me to just knit, pearl till it's done. It took me a year but I finished that scarf! It was my first finished product. I gave it to my friend Beth whom I love very much.
Unfortunately, I sat my needles down and didn't pick them up again until about 7 months ago. I decided that I would make us some kitchen cloths with a pattern my friend Amy gave me. I almost finished one before Gretchen was born a few weeks later, but didn't. So there this knitting bag sat. Full of yarn, needles, and hope. For 5 months.
Then this friend of mine, Kim, was knitting a "Prayer Shawl" and I was enamored. She got me the pattern and told me what size needles to get. I excitedly ran to the store and purchased my very own size 15 needles. No messing around with this buggar! I mean business. These needles are huge! They're probably considered lethal weapons in some areas. Anyway, I started knitting one for a friend of mine on this hippie christian bulletin board I'm a marginal member of ( Bee Ye Glad). Shortly after I began that project is when my G.G. died. She was an avid knitter. This last year (2007) she knit 14 afghans before she passed away. That's like over 1 a month. It's going to take me over a month to finish a SHAWL, and an afghan uses at least twice, if not three times the yarn! Amazing! It wasn't a competition for her. She simply loved to knit. She loved to give her creations to family. I have multiple knitted creations from her myself. I am suspecting it was part of what kept her mind so fit to the very end, that and hand writing letters and signing cards to all her children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and even great-great-grandchildren!
It seems though, ever since my Great Grandma died about a month ago, I can't stop knitting. I finished a kitchen cloth, finally! and am into my first shawl (over a 1/3 of the way done) and have plans for lots more projects. I don't know what it is. I'm sure there are plenty of other children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren who spent more time with her that could have picked up her trademark past-time, but for some reason I feel compelled to make it a past time of mine.
It's very contemplative for me. I spend lots of time thinking, processing, praying, dreaming. I'm a thinker anyway, but this is a way to keep me busy while I'm drifting off into where-ever-land. Hee hee.
It really has become a minor obsession of mine. I found myself thinking the other day, "how long until I can knit again?" and, "What should I work on next?" or, "Who should I give this next ____ to?"
Christian commented to me the other day to stop trying to impress him with how fast I was knitting. I thought, "Sheesh, I'm slow compared to my G.G!"
At any rate, her love for knitting has manifested itself into my hands, at least for now. And I remember her each time I look at the work my hands are making and I praise God for this craft and for my G.G. and for people's appreciation, or lack there of, this wonderful hand-craft.

Grandma Grace

2007-11-14T19:43:00.001-05:00

This is Grace Baron (Ba-run). Great Grandma to my daughters and Grandma to my husband. This picture was taken with my youngest daughter in her arms when she was one week old.
Grandma passed away today and so it is fitting to pause and reflect. Reflect on the woman she was, the life she led, and the legacy she has left behind.
But what can be said of a woman like her? She was a women to be emulated for certain. She had a hard work ethic, a respectful tone in all her relating, she loved God, her family and her friends.
She was born and raised in Zeeland, MI where she also went home to meet her Lord and Savior earlier this afternoon.
I only knew her for the last 8 years but felt loved by her as though I was her blood-grandchild since Christian introduced us at their annual Thanksgiving Day feast in 1999.
Every year the Baron Family would rent a hall in the middle of no-where-ville (Dorr, MI) and put out a spread to feed an army. There are enough members in their family to constitute an army in some countries, I think...at least a militia of some sort.
Grandma Grace was loving, kind, generous in thought and deed, and never made her family feel like a burden. She always welcomed our visits, even if they were un-announced. She loved to hear about what we were up to, how the girls were doing, what Christian was up to with work, school, or me. She embodied a life of simplicity, gratitude, and faith. She didn't have much, but what she did have she definitely took care of...well.
I remember when her husband, Christian's Grandpa, passed away a few years ago. It was so sad to watch her grieve such a significant loss. We knew this day would be coming eventually for her as well, as it does for all of us.
I'm so grateful for Grandma Grace. So grateful for the opportunity to have known her for a few years. So grateful for the virtues she helped to instill in my husband which he is instilling in our daughters. So thankful she was able to meet both our girls, and love, and hug, and kiss, and hold them. So thankful Christian had an opportunity to say goodbye to this woman he's loved and admired his whole life.
May God bless you Grace Baron, and bless your family here on earth for your faithfulness and generosity. May you rest in peace and hope and joy and love. Amen.

When It Rains...

2007-11-14T00:07:00.000-05:00

This last couple weeks have been filled with lots of reminders that life includes death. It began with the death and funeral of a long time member of my parish, Great-Grandfather to a young lady in the small group I lead with our youth group. It was my first funeral with the Episcopal Church. The funerals in the EC are the Easter Liturgy which is profoundly meaningful and beautiful to me for a few reasons:
a) it brings about the cycle of this whole thing we call life
b) it's a true celebration of the life this person lived here on earth and the resurrection they experienced being marked as God's own.
I shared with my student that the relationship she had with her great grandfather was something to be cherished and held special to her heart. I shared with her that I had one great left, "She just turned 104 a few days before Gretchen was born, " I said to her at the funeral, beaming with pride and misty-eyed thinking about the inevitable future loss I would grieve knowing full well, that my GG would not (contrary to my subconscious thoughts) live forever. The following week my dad called to tell me that my GG passed away that morning, on All Saints Day.
I learned moments before her service that she was raised and confirmed Irish Catholic and raised my Grandma and her sisters catholic. She was not memorialized in a catholic church though. Her service was at a funeral home with cheesy curtains and florescent lights. The whole room felt dead, yet her life was so full. Her faith was so central to her existence. I began to wonder if this location was picked because my family is awful at planning or because something happened to make her not want to be Catholic anymore.
Days after her funeral we got another call, also from my father. My maternal Grandfather has been digressing in his health for the last few years and has taken a final turn for the "There's nothing more we can do for you" talk from his team of Specialists. He's in his late 80s and served over seas in WWII. He was diagnosed with COPD and both his lungs have become paralyzed only recently causing him tremendous discomfort and agony for those who love and care for him. the prognosis is bleak and so I will wait for that sad, sad call once more.
Days after this call, we got a call from Christian's dad this time. His Grandma (his last living grandparent) has taken a turn for the worse. She was admitted into the hospital on Saturday and we should go see her. Monday morning we went to St. Mary's to visit and pray with Grandma Grace. We brought the girls, not knowing what we were going to see nor understanding the finality of this meeting. After being there only a short while, Christian's aunts returned from a meeting with a nurse to inform us of the decisions they and Grandma had come to that morning. She would no longer be receiving dialysis and would like to be made comfortable until she's brought home to be with her Lord. I cried. I looked at this beautiful woman lying in this hospital bed with paper thin skin and frailty beyond comprehension. She was so tired. She was so weak. She drank the prayer we prayed and I could tell she was thankful for her grandson and the man of God he is. As I looked at her and looked at my husband my eyes softened to the scene and my ears became attentive to the stories he was telling her as she rested. I soon left the room with the girls to allow Christian some privacy with her to say what he needed to for closure, knowing all too well this would likely be the last words he would say to her on earth.
So, again our phone awaits that sad, sad call to inform us that another saint has entered Heaven and a celebration of life is to take place.

All Saints Day

2007-11-01T22:51:00.000-04:00

November 1, 2007 is an all saint's day I will likely not ever forget. This morning, my paternal great grandmother went home to meet Jesus.
I had the opportunity to reflect on her life, our relationship, and the impact she had on my spirituality tonight with my spiritual director. It was lovely and sad and warm and emotional. It was needed but dreaded. I felt drained but well.
As I was talking about "G.G." with my S.D. it occurred to me that she was the one who introduced me to God. She was the one who first taught me how to pray. She taught me the meaning of family, how to make bread & rolls & cookies. She taught me how to play solitaire.
She was a firery red head in her youth, married and had three daughters. She lived in Chicago while my dad was growing up then moved in with my grandmother in her later years. Recently she moved over to my great-aunt's where she was well taken care of until her final breath was taken. Aunt Babs said she went to sleep last night and never woke up. That fits her though. To die in her sleep. GG was a woman of peace. She embodied so many qualities of God: faithfulness, gentleness, kindness, long-suffering, patience, self-control...and the list goes on.
No more birthday parties for her. No more letters to write back and forth. No more cards for every holiday to my girls with a two dollar bill enclosed. No more.
I missed her last birthday this May because I was due to have my second baby three days later. I didn't get to say good-bye to her, nor her I.
I was asked to talk to her about how we can have closer on our relationship. How can I say good-bye when she's already gone?
I knew this day was coming, she wasn't really going to live forever. Although, she had me starting to believe it making it almost 6 months past her 104th birthday! She was so funny. She kept saying "This is my last birthday" for the last 15 years.
I love G.G. G.G. loved me. I have only fond & positive memories with my G.G. I was her favorite great grandchild. Along with all the others. We were all her favorite, although we didn't discover we shared that special spot with everyone else till much later in life.
She was a tiny woman. A pint sized irish fireball. I outgrew G.G.'s shoes in third grade!
She never drank anything but water (and maybe some tea). She never went to a hospital or doctor until she was in her 90s when she got a little bout of breast cancer and broke her hip. She had all her own teeth. She always wore her pearls. She always had her hair done. She was a lady. A firey lady. At least, that's how I remember her.
I miss her.

I'm sticking my neck out...again

2007-10-27T20:45:00.000-04:00

this has been an amazing week...i can't believe it's Saturday night already! I spent more time in prayer this week then possibly ever, thanks to my friends over at the Boiler Room who invited me to join them in a week of "unbroken prayer". hmm. that sounds interesting, i thought to myself. i checked out the calender of time slots that were open and MWF were open from 3-4, and child care was provided so even if Christian had a meeting or what-have-you i could still go. I've been challenged to spend more time in prayer each week. last week it was just 20 minutes a day, that's all i asked for. i got it too...i was amazed at how many 20 minute segments of time i had throughout the day that instead of wasting it on the computer i could be sitting in the lap of God. how beautiful, eh?
you're probably wondering what's up with the title. well, I'm getting there (just ask my dh, i am not capable of getting to the point in less than 500 words). anyway, i digress.
my week was amazing. full of lots of emotions and lots of obstacles and lots of blessings. one of the things I'm learning to do through this vocational discernment program is to listen attentively, and live reflectively. in reading one of the blogs i frequent daily i was encouraged to reflect on what my time at the boiler room was like. i obeyed, like the good little rule-follower i am, and then i returned a few times to see if anyone else had posted. upon one of my returns i was encouraged by someone else's reflections. i clicked on her blog address, as she invited us to read her more in depth reflection there, and something caught my eye that inspired this post.
edited to say: this is in no way a slam on this person's faith, blog, or anyone who agrees with this, it's just simply something i got to thinking about and wanted to blog on.
so, at the top left of this person's blog there's this widget that encourages you to click on it. It reads, "Are you ready?" Hmm. ready for what? I think to myself...not at all thinking for that brief moment where this rabbit hole (thanks Keith) would take me...and so i click.
"OH, NO!" I say OUT LOUD (I'm home alone, the kids are asleep, husband is at Cedar Point of all places). I watch for a minute. Then I start to think, "who gives the bad news first?" Really when you stop to think about it, when someone says, "Well peeps, I've got good news and I've got bad news, which do you want to hear first?" do they opt for the bad news first? Not me (unless it's christian because then i know the good news will be really good) but most of the time i say "Good news!" not on this blogging tract. Noooooooo. It goes into page after page of what a *hitty person i am and how I'm going to die (no news there, we're all going to die it's just a matter of how and when, right?). anyway, after all this hell and damnation FINALLY the good news is given. Sheesh. That took forever! Kind of like my story telling, I'm sure. I just wonder if that's what Jesus meant when he told his disciples to go to the ends of the earth and preach the good news. what say you?

A New Prayer

2007-10-22T21:00:00.000-04:00

I signed up to pray for three hours this week at our prayer house in our neighborhood. It's part of a city wide chain of unbroken prayer that's going on all week. 24/7.
How fitting that our homework from Anglican Spirituality was to practice a "different" form of prayer this week. I walk in and on the walls are prayers of thanksgiving, petitions, visions, scriptures. A c.d. player in the corner singing music to meditate with. A cross that covers the entire floor to nail your confessions to, and leave them. Candles to light, a "prayer closet", a map of our city and world to notate people around the city and world that need our prayers. There are bible s and meditation books on a shelf, a Book of Common Prayer (actually two), and a journal for people to 'reflect' for the community.
The window is cracked open to let the cool autumn air in and to remind us, as we are praying, that whom we are to be lifting up at this hour, the children, the single moms, the addicts, the lonely, the poor in spirit, the widows...in our neighborhood and in our city.
I'm led to pray for marriages, mostly because two of my girlfriends are going through an awful time in their marriages so they've been heavy on my heart for some time now. But then as I'm searching for a prayer that fits their situations I find one in the *bcp* that is often used in ceremonies when folks are first getting married. It hits me that it's a blessing. I am begging God to bless my friends' marriages and tell God I won't give up until God does (See Genesis for Jacob's wrestle with God) bless them. I'm taken aback, surprised at this reaction welling up inside me. I quickly add my marriage to the list of names on this sheet of couples to pray this for as well as many others I could think of. So, now, as you read this prayer, please join me in praying for couples in your life, please add them to the list in the comment section.
Peace.

O God, you have so consecrated the covenant of marriage

that in it is represented the spiritual unity between Christ

and his Church: Send therefore your blessing upon these your

servants, that they may so love, honor, and cherish each other

in faithfulness and patience, in wisdom and true godliness,

that their home may be a haven of blessing and peace;

through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you

and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

Our new tams, thanks christian!

2007-10-15T13:21:00.000-04:00

Gretta's, tad big yet. The artist made this just for her:)

she likes it though, i think. She should, it's made of bamboo!

Momo is totally just humoring us here! She's not much for performing anything.

So serious at "do"! It looks so cute. Will look even better when it's stuffed full of phat knots!

And mine. I love it, especially while the dreadies are in formation:) The artist made mine from Alpaca. so nice. I just love it. Thanks Ellie. You really do beautiful work.

Ellie does lots of beautiful hand-crafted arts and paintings and photos. Check out her website if you get a minute and support a cool mama keepin' it real!
Rooted In Love

Prayer

2007-10-10T22:46:00.000-04:00

prayer has been quite a mystical topic for me for most of my life. i've played around with it from time to time, not really understanding what i was doing or what good it was doing, but believing that somehow, despite it all, it was helping, in some way.

i was reading from this book last night about benedictine spirituality. this nun that is of the benedictine order offers her commentary on prayer like this:

prayer is about standing in the presence of God & listening with a radically open heart...observing the offices marked the rhythm of the day from dawn to deepest night. this was a way of remembering one's utter dependence upon God.

in fact, i've been learning that prayer isn't supposed to be lofty, wordy, or long. that moment where you are still. that's prayer. that's prayer according to my friend don. he knows a thing or two about prayer too.

so i lit a candle last night. for my neighborhood. for peace throughout the world. for wisdom of how i can help redeem God's world. and i prayed in a *prayer* chapel. for the first time. i was aware of the bells ringing at the Basilica calling God's people to prayer. it was beautiful. it was peaceful. it was good.

Conflict

2007-09-30T21:17:00.000-04:00

I'm not one much for conflict, yet "it" seems to find me where ever I go. Not literally, but some days that's how it feels. I thought I was accomplishing something huge in my maturity as a Christian by not fleeing from conflict but facing it head on. Well, there's something to be said about confrontation versus conflict. Confrontation is necessary to reach reconciliation. Conflict is not necessary and is in fact a detriment to The Body. St. Benedict says we are to purposefully not seek out conflict in our lives. He takes peacemaking and keeping very seriously. As do I.
I'm an intuitive person and can sense where my part can be to "keep the peace" and am generally pretty good at defusing situations. It's when I see that exit and choose to not take it that things get HOT. I can ream with the best of 'em and have been called lots of nasty things in my life when I've not heeded the whisper in my spirit that says, "Gentleness, Kindness, Self-Control." Some days that is my mantra the whole day. I should set it to a Gregorian Chant so my girls can hum it when stress comes there way, as it most definitely will.

Camping 101

2007-09-06T14:04:00.000-04:00

So, I've been *processing* how exactly to put into words our latest camping experience for all my readers (you three have been pestering me about this for weeks). What I've come up with is a list of why not to take your 2 year old and 4 month old camping whilst trying to *relax*.

10. They get really dirty
9. They get really cranky
8. The two year old thinks she's a big kid and doesn't need to go to bed or take naps
7. The two year old feels so *safe* in this environment that she'll run off down to the water in less than 20 seconds, while you're changing the 4 month old's poopy diaper.
6. Cleaning up poop while camping is gross
5. Diaper rashes love "no bath" days and fester like mad on your little one's bottoms
4. Relaxation just doesn't happen, for anyone.
3. You have to bring two vans full of equipment just to help keep them safe and warm in the elements.
2. 2:00 a.m. demands for nummies make a person crazy (Christian shut his thumb in the van door while fetching one of these nummies for Mo at 1:30 a.m. because we'd put all the food in their to keep away the raccoons).
1. It's just too much work (packing, maintaining, unpacking) for such a short lived vacation. And a bonus, it took three days to soak all the dirt out of Momo's feet from the experience!

Do I sound like a *bah-humbug*? Well, that may be, but for our sanity, mine and my husband's, it's going to be a long time before we return to the great outdoors with our little ones. It may just -become a mom & dad get away most of the time and a once a year thing with the girls till they're older (like 12!)
Ergh!

Holy Crap

2007-08-26T22:47:00.000-04:00

So, my husband and I launched ourselves into this semi-mystical discernment process for the specific reason of figuring out "God's Will" for our lives regarding vocation.
I say semi-mystical because we will be learning a lot about ancient forms of Christian prayer and meditation as well as learning ancient orders of spiritual life, but how it will be revealed seems to be a little mysterious. I guess we're on a "need to know" basis. You know, if we need to know, we'll know. It's a retreat-style course set for 8 weeks, two times a month, in Saugatuk, MI. A very pretty harbor town. In this process we will learn about the Benedictine Way of Spirituality, the 12-step spirituality, the Anglican Spirituality, as well as Spiritual Direction in group format.
That all sounds pretty spiritual, doesn't it?
That's kind of why it was so exciting to me to attend.

So, I'm going to add the list of books I have to read, as the spouse of the person discerning, to the right here in a while but for now I shall list them in this post.
The Rule of Benedict: Insights for the ages, by Joan D. Chittister
Engaging Benedict: What the Rule can Teach us today, by Laura Swan
Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, by Alcoholics Anonymous
What is Anglican Spitituality, Holmes
Living in God's Embrace, by Michael Fonseca
Inner Compass: An invitation to Ignatian Spirituality, by Margaret Sif

Through these books, the discussions, the papers, the Spiritual Direction, and forms of prayer & meditation we (my husband and I) shall learn how to discern this call we have for him to become a priest in the Episcopal Church. Or at least that is our hope.

Discernment has never been my strong point. I have usually bowed to the more strong-willed person in my life when a "decision" needs to be made, naming that "discernment." I'm learning, however, that I was operating this way of life not through my discerning heart, but rather my broken spirit.
I think that's why this way of 'doing church', through the Episcopal tradition, is so appealing. They have a high place for women. I'm taught that I have an important voice, although my negative core belief is that I don't have a voice. Often my dreams are of my not being able to scream when I'm in danger.
I'm taught that my husband's call is my call, although my negative core belief says that God can't use me because I'm too messed up inside.
I'm taught that God desires my "spiritual space" to be still, calm, and peaceful...something I learned this weekend I am currently not in.
So, I have a lot of discipline I have to rapidly incorporate into my messy life so I can help my family discern if the priesthood is for us or not. My suspect is that it is. But, we shall see.

The Knots are back!

2007-08-05T21:11:00.001-04:00

So this is my old look, newly returned! Christian helped be put dreadlocks back in my hair this weekend. He's says they look "Kick Ass" but the verdict is still out, for me. The "officials" say it'll take two to six months for them to "lock up" and look good...till then, I'll be the one with the "bad hair day" every day:)
I put locks in my hair for a few reasons:
1. They look so cool
2. I think they fit my personality
3. I love the reaction on my parents faces when I told them
4. I love the way my girls look at me with them, Montana loved it so much she wanted one in her hair. SO....she has ONE lock in her hair, more to come soon though.
5. I like the idea of me being the "friend with dreadlocks"
6. I will never again have to pay $30 flippin' dollars to trim the split ends off my hair: All that hair is "good for the garden of lock love."
7. When we have family pictures done (which Christian vehemently opposes) it'll be Christian in his priestly uniform, me in my dreadlocks and handmade or recycled clothing, and both our girls in their dreadlocks and handmade or recycled clothing:) Isn't that a beautiful picture?
8. When I write my book they will be that picture on the back:)
9. I've always wanted them but the timing was never right
10. Last time I had them, I liked them but my head was so itchy I almost went insane: this time I'm sportin' the anti-itchies and other products to make me love my locks:)

oh, yeah...and it's just fun. And that's what it's all about!
Peace.

half way there

2007-07-30T17:41:00.000-04:00

so in terms of Post Maternity, I'm half-way to my goal weight...this little ticker is more for me than anyone else, to maybe keep me motivated at loosing the baby weight:) You can make your own ticker for just about anything at www.tickerfactory.com...

Good Music, Good Food, Good Times

2007-07-26T10:48:00.000-04:00

This is Seth Bernard & Daisy May. They are a folk duo from Michigan. Here's their weblink www.earthworkmusic.com/SETHDAISY.htm
Check them out sometime if you're into folk music. I think they're great...christian & I saw them once but hear about them all the time. They'll be at a festival in Big Rapids next month (or maybe it's in September). Anyway, this is the kind of great up-n-coming folk music that is featured at Hiawatha Music Festival in Marquette. That's where we were last weekend. I highly recomment checking out as many Michigan Music Festivals as you can muster the fundage for...it's definately a part of our economy we want to hold onto, amen?
Well, I just wanted to give a shout out for these guys.
Peace,
Jodi

The Death of a Vanagon

2007-07-24T16:35:00.000-04:00

We took our VW Vanagon on its final camping trip this past week/weekend. It did such a good job all the way up. About 20 miles outside of Mqt. the coolant light started flickering. "uh-oh," we both said. We pulled off the road and checked the oil and coolant. Topped them both off with the remaining liquids we had in the van and trucked-on. We camped all weekend and left thinking the top-off did the trick. Almost to Munising we see the light come on again! Repeat above. this time I fished through my wallet to find the number of a guy we met at Buses By the Beach Boo! last fall. Found it! Sweet! I call and leave a message. We're in a "bad area" so the call gets dropped about 5 times before we got to a "stable" signal area. He gives us a few suggestions and says, "good luck". we tried to no availe his suggestions and decided it was getting late enough that we may be able to make it the rest of the way home, or at least to TC where my brother could pick us up.
As the night temperature dropped we made it further and further with our fingers crossed and hopes high.
HOME, sweet home finally 10 hours later!
Fast forward to next day.
As we are preparing to go run our back-from-vacation errands, the blue car (our other more reliable vehicle) doesn't turn over. We give it a jump and it starts to smoke b/c our jumpers suck (sorry for the language). We drove the van to Meijer and lunch, then back home. We laid down for a rest with the girls then tried to jump it with our new heavy-duty cables. It works?! Woo-hoo! Oh crap! "What's that?" I said to Christian...
Coolant, boiling coolant oozing from every inch of the belly of our baby...oil is milky. It's a gonner.
So sad!

To Papa

2007-07-10T13:31:00.000-04:00

,,,,,,,,,,,,, mmmmm ,,,,nnnnnnnnnnnn .....m.,,,,,,,,,,j,............

This is Momo. She's almost 2. That up there is her typing a love note to her papa, whom she hasn't seen in 5 days!
She misses him a lot. So much so that she's been quite the naughty stinker since we got home. Following are just some of the things she has done to make me know she's missing him:)
1. Unravelled all the paper towel
2. Took out all the paper cups and strategically placed them all over the apartment
3. Took out many of the paper plates and spread them all over my bedroom
4. Spilled milk
5. Threw books and toys in my general direction

She can be a "stinker" but she's so darn cute!

New Life

2007-06-02T22:08:00.000-04:00

Babies are wonderful creatures. Here's our newest addition, Gretchen Maya, we'll call her Gretta. She was born to us on May 15 at 5:08 pm. Now I fully understand why a mother will never forget the exact moment her baby's feet were born...because it was finally over! Well, almost.
I was so thankful that my body cooperated with the VBAC but...man, they don't tell you what you know you don't want to know...b/c if they did no one would ever want to have babies! But if you have any teenagers that are thinking about becoming sexually active...send them my way and I'll give them every last scary gory detail of my horrible experiences and why my husband and I praise God for adoption so we can someday have one more child.

May 14, 15 are you out there?

2007-05-07T13:28:00.000-04:00

I've heard women talk about how this last part of pregnancy is the most challenging. Emotionally and physically. I'm beginning to understand why, now. As I count down the days to my estimated due date, which has come back either the 14th or 15th of May in all my ultra sounds, I am feeling worse every day.
Not worse like poor me, just achier, more pressure, less energy, moodier, but also more excited about meeting her, etc. I find my self struggling with patience mostly. Patience that God knew what he was doing when he knit me together and that he designed my body to birth this baby a certain way. I'm excited to feel labor, urges to push her out, and minister to those who come into contact with me that natural childbirth after cesarean is not only possible but preferable. Now, hopefully I won't be eating those words. If so, oh well. At least I got to find out for myself. Which, consequently happens to be how I learn best. :~(
Hopefully my next post will include pictures of the beautiful child inside me, outside! And maybe some family shots if we can get little momo to cooperate:)
Peace.

What a Scary Day

2007-05-03T02:17:00.000-04:00

Scary doesn't even describe what happened with me yesterday. From about 3:30 a.m. (Tuesday) till 12:30pm I kept waiting for the baby to move. Nothing was happening. Not when I changed positions, walking, eating, nothing. Then just after 10 a.m. I felt a little teeny tiny movement...once. Then not again till an hour after lunch. Needless to say I started to worry because this child has been notorious for keeping me awake all hours of the night, uncomfortable all day, etc. because she moves and shakes and hiccups so much. When I called my Doctor's office to see if this was normal, she said she'd like me to come in for a "non stress test". That's where they hook your belly up to two monitors: one for the baby's heartbeat & movements and the other for contractions of the uterus. After about 20 minutes and numerous attempts for the nurse to "wake" her...she turned the machine off and said, "that should be enough for the doc to see what's going on."
Then I had an ultra sound done because my measurements weren't exactly par with my dates the last few visits: which last time meant my amniotic fluid was low.
I return to the examination room much later to be joined shortly by my Doctors' colleague (because she was on vacation) who declared everything looked good!
I said, "but I didn't feel any movements!" She said there just isn't enough room so she's just slowing down or she's "resting" up for the big day. but that she's definately moving and her heart rate looks good with each movement.
She said her growth looks great and my fluid is normal so we're all set to continue on with plans for a VBAC when I go into labor!
That night around 9:30p.m. she started moving again and hasn't really stopped since then! Little stinker must have just been tuckered out. Scarred me half to death though!
Amazing how something so small can cause such unrest in your heart until you find out for sure. At least, that's how I seem to work.

I'm a spy

2007-04-18T20:57:00.000-04:00

I just got done giving my daughter dinner which consisted of noodles with a mushroom sauce and sauteed tofu. She loved it! Anyway, she's now playing on the couch and I'm spying on her little imagination. She has about 5 bowls all lined up in a row and two pouring devices which she is carefully divvying up between the various sized bowls. It is so cute. It got me thinking about a lot of things though. A lot of what I do as a Mom involves the work of a spy. I go about my business as though I am not paying attention to what she's doing but really she's never out of my peripheral. Constantly I'm checking to see what her integrity looks like on this day or the next. It's sneaky but wonderful. Sometimes I'll spy on her while she's winding down for a nap or bed time: She'll be singing to herself, reading a book or two, tucking her stuffed animals into her crib by covering them with one of her MANY blankets. Then I have to quickly leave the room so as to not to disturb the imaginative process in progress. I really do have the best job in the whole world. To be the one who ultimately is shaping what her boundaries will be as she grows and matures. It's a HUGE responsibility but one that I don't take lightly. Some days I am too tired to enjoy her, but always I love being a parent. Some days I feel less than qualified, less than patient, less than adequate to be this wonderful little person's mama. But then, out of no where she'll exclaim, "uh oh" because the toilet seat is up or the door to the bathroom is open. That 's when I realize, "Crap! She's really listening!"

Persuit of Happyness

2007-04-09T14:09:00.001-04:00

Christian surprised me the other night by bringing home this movie I've been wanting to see since it came out in the Movie theatres. But since it's kind of illegal to leave your small child at home alone while you and your husband go enjoy an over-priced movie going experience, I had to wait until it came out on DVD. Then once it came out, stores were "out" of it for the first two weeks! Further peaking my curiosity about it, to say the least. Well, after all the anticipation, I can fully say, it was worth seeing! There were so many elements to it that I found worthy of exploring my emotions for. The story line between this father and son is...well...beautiful. The story line between the husband and wife is more than frustrating, it's down-right maddening.

I'm sitting there watching this movie about the "working homeless" and am flooded with tears, anxiety, sadness, and hope. I'm motivated to become more involved with IHN (Interfaith Hospitality Network) this time around to help guys like this guys be able to "stay together." My heart was ripping out for all the families, just in our country, in our state, in our city, who are waiting in line for a bed to sleep...not sleeping because they're worried about tomorrow...trying so hard to just stay afloat. The immense sacrifice this story brings up of what a father (or mother) will do to provide for their children, it's just inspiring.

Watch it and tell me what YOU think.

5 weeks 2 days and counting

2007-04-06T22:21:00.001-04:00

I'm seriously keeping track of this "estimation" date. Some of my friends don't even remember their actual due dates for their kids because they say, "the baby will come when it's ready." But I, on the other hand, know that the closer I get to that date, the closer I am to being able to hold my baby girl in my arms and introduce her to the world! It's so exciting to think about in just over a month we will have TWO girls to fill our hearts with every day for the rest of our lives! Double the trouble, right?
I don't know about all that, I just know that I'm anticipating this birth with more excitement because I know what I'm in for! I know I won't be sleeping much and daily tasks are going to get all messed up for a little while, as we adjust...but then the cloud will lift and POOF! Christian and I will look at eachother and declare, "This is our family now!" and cry and laugh and totally enjoy every second we have with our beautiful daughters.
Obsessing over the time I have left also helps me keep my mind off that horrible date in two weeks:( except I just spoke of it!

Round with little baby

2007-03-13T13:31:00.000-04:00

Pregnancy can be such a bitter sweet thing. On the one hand you have me, 31 weeks gestation knowing the likelihood of my getting to bring home a healthy newborn in 9 weeks is huge. On the other hand you have people like my friend A. Who after 2 healthy births, one still birth, and three miscarriages just found out she's expecting again only to find spotting not even a week later followed by heavy bleeding. What does that mean, some of you may ask? That means she has not had three miscarriages, she's now experiencing her fourth.
We stood together this morning embracing as we cried trying to wrap our minds around this tragedy. The hopeful anticipation she had for only a week, the peace she seeks to understand and heal, the hope she has that one day her womb will accept another baby so her and her husband can fulfill their dreams of having 3 or 4 children!
Then, a few hours later I'm walking around the block with our kids and feel a really strong "balling up" of my uterus. "What is this," I ask myself? I look at my watch, recall that I still have at least 7 weeks before "contractions" should start, and take a deep breath. It passes after about 5-10 minutes then I get another one about 20 minutes later. My thoughts move into the future when I really will be in labor and timing contractions. What will I be doing when they start? Now I'm just witnessing this alien move my stomach and it feels weird!
So that's why I think pregnancy can be bitter sweet: I mourn for the loss of my friend's baby and excitedly anticipate the birth of my own.

Two More Months!

2007-03-09T13:32:00.001-05:00

I'm just about 31 weeks gestation (or 8 1/2 months pregnant). In the pregnancy world that doesn't mean much because babies will come when they're ready...but in my world that means I have just over 9 weeks left till I meet my baby girl Justice Rayne. My back is achy from arching to make more room for her in my abdomen, my upper back is achy from the weight of my engorging soon-to-be feeding devises, and my feet ache from carrying all this extra weight around. I'm tired most days now, my nose is almost always congested, and I have an insatiable thirst for liquid (mostly water).
On the other hand, I love to feel my little girl moving around inside my belly. I'm learning her wake and sleeping patterns and can tell when she is startled or excited that I just ate something yummy:)
The impending birth of another child has consequently inspired me to spend some time looking back at some photos from when our first daughter, Momo, was born. It's hard to believe we're doing this again so soon, but we are! I wonder if she will at all look like her big sister, who is a spitting image of her papa (looks and personality). Or will she look and act more like me? Who knows, but it's really fun to think about.
I was making a list today (experts have termed this behavior the "final stretch frenzy") of all the things we still need to get together before her arrival. Most of the things we already have from when Momo was born, but some of those things we're still using for Momo! Like her crib and sheets, changing table, etc. I have another crib and changing table from Christian's sister, thankfully, but we just have to figure out where we're going to put it! Montana's room is barely big enough for her crib, changing table and dresser, I can't imagine having two girls' stuff in there! (the room is maybe 7'x7')
I also wonder what life is going to be like in a few months when we have Justice home with us trying to meld her into our existing life with her big sister Montana. I've wondered about this since I found the positive pregnancy test, but now my curiosity is turning into serious day-dreaming. Last night we were babysitting some friends' of ours two kids (so there were three kids altogether) and the routine from dinner prep to bedtime to cleanup took THREE HOURS!!!!!! Are you serious? Is this what we're in for? I assured my husband that there is NO WAY the kids bedtime routines will take longer than two minutes after bath and changing into p.j.'s (meaning the routine of book-reading, singing lullabies, praying, rocking, etc.) I just don't have the energy to do that every night! Then I think about one of my friends who has five kids, what is her daily life like? Or my other friend who has three kids under 7 and twins due next week! What will her life look like?
Busy! That's what it is! For the next 5-10 years my life is going to be CRAMMED with diaper changing, bathing, toileting, feeding, carpooling, battles over control, and teaching "right" behavior. Not to mention managing the household duties of cleaning, bills, cooking, laundry, etc. It's a good thing I like lists and organization...otherwise I think I'd have to check myself into a mental institution for signing up for this job.
Now all I have to do is implement my brilliant ideas about organization and motivate myself to actually get off my duff and DO them, so our life will run smoothly and we'll have the perfect, harmonious family we've always dreamed of having and knew we could have if we just stuck to our guns! (oh, please, sense my VERY thick sarcasm)
Well, my back is achy from sitting here like this and I need to lye down. Peace out for now!

My Womb Dweller

2007-02-27T17:08:00.000-05:00

Well, here it is. Much bigger this time around, but that's OK. I know little Justice is healthy in there as my womb dweller. I love being pregnant. Even though I'm now in my third trimester, I for the most part, have little to nothing to complain about:) I'm looking forward to the end when I get to hold her in my arms for the first time.

Best of Buds

2007-02-27T14:25:00.000-05:00

These photos are of my 18 month-old daughter and her best little bud who's 17 months. They play together every Tuesday and Thursday and most of the time have so much fun. It's been a blessing to watch them learn social skills through their parallel play. From putting all of M's barretts in both their hair to wearing their coats all around the house, our days are definately NOT boring.

I'm cold

2007-02-15T14:31:00.000-05:00

I don't have a lot of philosophical mumbo-jumbo to write about today but thought I better get some thoughts down quick before I forget how to write.
I'm feeling cold right now. I'm sitting in the basement at the house I babysit at looking at lots of blogs that have really articulate authors and thinking...I'm cold, and "why won't the girls take a nap?" But that seems to be my life right now. I try to stimulate my intellect with pros of great thinkers and most of the time I wind up re-reading the exact same paragraph 3 or 4 times before I give up for the time-being. Then there's conversation. A whole 'nother work of art. I hardly have a conversation with anyone, all day long then expect miracles of myself when my roommate and husband come into the picture. Let's face it, my brain is composed of mush right now! I couldn't comprehend an intelligent adult-like conversation if it was forced down my throat like lima beans. YUCK!
I'm told the intellect will return along with the youthful size of my uterus upon delivery (or shortly after) so some moms warn me that there skills never did return until there kids were grown, because they had to re-develop with their kids. Basically that means I'm in for a lot of peek-a-boo and "na!" "NA!" for the next few years. But, oh well...I believe children are a blessing, I know mine has been so far. So I guess I can sacrifice a little of my SELF for the next while to pour into them.
In the end, though, I close with this. I'm still cold!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

virgin conception

2006-12-19T17:46:00.000-05:00

All this recent talk about Mark Driscoll prompted me to check out his blog and his church's website. He had a little mp3 of a sermon he gave on why Jesus' mom had to be a virgin. His conclusion was that in order for Jesus to also be fully God he couldn't be conceived in "sin" (I'm assuming he was referring to the conception being prior to the wedding consummation of Mary and Joseph???). I've heard other people discuss this topic and almost get thrown out of their church for raising such questions. I don't know much about theology or even the bible...only what I've read and the commentators of the versions I've read have said. I wonder what some of you more "scholarly" folk have to say on the matter. Please pontificate with me.

Justice

2006-12-19T14:39:00.000-05:00

the quality of being just, impartial, or fair b (1) : the principle or ideal of just dealing or right action. conformity to truth, fact, or reason.
Christian and I have a lot of thoughts on this word. So many thoughts that we've decided to name our next child Justice. We may be setting the poor lad up for a world of discontent but we are definitely pursuers of justice in our lives and think the virtues Miriam-Webster states are worthy to name our little one after. the quality of being just, impartial, or fair. Who wouldn't want to be remembered as that? Or the principle or ideal of just dealing or right action? How can one go wrong with that? and if our son/daughter is going to conform to anything, why not have it be to truth, fact, and reason?
We'll find out the Friday after New Year's if Justice will be a boy or girl. The Chinese Lunar Gender Predictor says it's going to be a boy. I think so too. But I have no reason why.

weekend retreats

2006-12-12T14:13:00.000-05:00

So I just got back from spending a wonderful weekend away with just my family. Hilary took us up to her cabin near Gaylord for a relaxing respite from life. It was three of the most wonderful days of my year. The most beautiful part of the whole weekend was that we all decided that we didn't want to go back yet. We wanted to stay just as long as we could. Laundry could wait. Sleep could wait. Life could wait. But isn't this what LIFE is about? I really meditated on that while away for the weekend. Not that life is supposed to be spent in solitude or silence or out in the middle of nowhere. But that Life is meant to be experienced not dreaded or looked over or neglected. I felt like this weekend was a special gift for my family as we continue to grow and morph into the next element that "God" has for us.
I saw my husband bond with our daughter and play with her and interact with her in ways that life doesn't allow both of us to experience simultaneously because of work, etc. I saw my dear friend bond with my daughter in ways that will likely take them through their whole lives...it was beautiful.
The other beautiful thing about this "retreat" was the double seat er outhouse we called relief all weekend. the cabin doesn't have indoor plumbing so they have a couple holes with toilet seat covers and some plywood around it. it's back in the woods a piece so really quite private. I forgot what it was like to do your business where it was quite, no little fingers poking under the door yelling, "mama!" no husbands barging in looking for their deodorant. It was sacred. I found myself wanting to go out there just to pee instead of relieving myself in closer proximity to the cabin like I typically would have before having a child.
And lets not forget the 10 consecutive games of Settlers of Catan we enjoyed all too much. The only conflict I saw for myself was that my potty mouth came ROARING out during the games. Well, not so much the first one, but by the 10th one you would have thought we were all sailors. get it? Cuz we were all cussin' so much? Well, I thought it was a little funny.
Monday came and was a RUDE awakening to us all. Me with the harsh realities of bills come due, money come spent, and laundry piling up to the ceiling! Not to mention the harsh realities of third shift for my husband. Poor thing. we made it through though and Tuesday has proven to be MUCH BETTER.
Peace.

Big Fat Snow Flakes

2006-12-03T21:07:00.000-05:00

It's been snowing all day long today! I am loving it too. One month ago I was loathing this white substance that covers all our beautiful land of Michigan most of the months of November through March. It occurred to me that something changes after the fourth Thursday of November. Something quite magical actually. All of the sudden families all over start making preparations. Preparations for what's promised to come, what always comes, what will in deed come. Christian's all over start their "New Year" with the next Sunday beginning Advent which is known to many as the season of waiting. Little ones all over make snowflake garland for windows, string popcorn and cranberries for their family's tree and wish for that special something to be waiting for them under that tree in a month! Now, not all of the parts of this season do I agree with nor do I know my family will participate in...but, nonetheless, I still find the whole season magical and wonderful and worth talking about a little more.
I have so many great memories of decorating our tree or making ornaments (that were hideous but my mom still hangs on the tree every year) or cookies. Oh the cookies! Every year to this date my mom goes crazy in the kitchen with confectionary concoctions. Some old favorites some new ones...but definitely something for every taste bud on your tongue to enjoy. Someday I wonder if I'll pick up on that tradition, probably not this year.
I also remember the first snowman of each winter. That is always a blast! It seems that snow creature lasts longer than all the subsequent little creations combined...how is that?
Needless to say, I love this whole season. Winter, Advent, Christmas, what ever you call it, I love it.

This thing called life

2006-11-20T00:43:00.000-05:00

As I quickly approach that dreaded 30 mark, I'm pressed to identify and cling ever more tightly to my individuality. I'm actually having that discussion on a regular basis with my husband. Who am I? I know I'm mama to Montana, and wife to my husband, and home to the baby in my belly...but do I extend further than that? That is the internal question I struggle with as of late. I love my life, my family, and my friends. However, I do not want to be identified as Montana's mama or Christian's wife. I was Jodi first...so as our family continues to grow, I continue to struggle with maintaining my identity as an individual child of God. So if your passions identify you then absolutely my family is on the list of my passions. Other things ignite me though. Finding an end to poverty, child abuse & neglect, AIDS, bigotry, and ignorance. Finding myself standing at the edge of the most beautiful place on earth and feeling like it's all worth it: the pain, the boredom at times, the stress...to get to that spot at that time and be able to see it all... in perspective. I love to capture memories with my camera, especially of nature and my family. I love to discuss politics with my husband because he's smart and passionate and arrogant and helps me to think about the things I think I think:) (that was for you, Nick, if you ever read this) Anyway, I think that's it for now.

I am Woman, Hear me ROAR

2006-11-19T21:44:00.000-05:00

This is such a ridiculous debate but I find myself needing to articulate some of my inner thoughts on Femininity, specifically in the Christian context. From what I've been able to gather reading the scriptures (although I have not read the entire Bible) women have been loved and despised throughout by their male counterparts. In some stories women are the heroes (Ruth) in some they are viewed as nothing more than objects for men's pleasure and birthing sons to their men (most of the letters by Paul). I don't think either of these polarizations of the Female gender are what God has to say about Femininity, however. Maybe I should rephrase that last statement because I don't want to presume to know anything about the presuppositions of God. So, what I've been able to gather about the topic of Femininity through scripture is that 1. Women are intelligent, innovative, more attractive than men with our curves, etc. and are highly prone to manipulative behaviors (cons, deception, lies, etc.) 2. Finger nail polish, lip gloss, and perfume are the antithesis of what God calls us to care about. For that matter shaving, plucking, tucking, and weight loss mainia are as well. 3. In order for women to feel Feminine they have to search within themselves, not through a man, and wrestle with what God wants from them. If our femininity is associated solely with our appearance, marital status, and cosmetic purchases...what does that say of the millions of women who don't make enough money to "fake-bake" three times a week, don't wear makeup because they have to put diapers on their babies, and don't shave because they're too busy working three part-time jobs to make "ends meat"? These aren't the women who don't fit into the "net" these stereotypes are casting. These are the women who should be defining Femininity in our books. The women who have to run their houses, raise their children, and "bring home the bacon." If this were the pioneer days they would be trappin', shootin', and fixin' the wheels on the wagon...and where would the MASCULINE MAN be? Off in jail, with another woman who wore make-up and shaves her legs, or just plain gone. When my husband goes through times of discontentment (see http://journeyofthediscontent.blogger.com for more on this) my heart absolutely brakes. Here we are pursuing our dreams of living simply so others can simply live and some upper-middle class white pampas jerk goes off and ruins what GOD is putting together in his heart. From what I gathered in the accounts of Jesus' life here on earth, he didn't hunt or fix cars, or any of these other socially-constructed ideas of Masculininity. I was reading someone much smarter than myself's blog (http://commonblue.wordpress.com) and read a thought by someone else whom excapes exactly who it was now. Anyhoo, their idea was that if we spent more of our energy trying to be a good CHRISTIAN instead of a good AMERICAN, we may get closer to God's ideas of Masculinity and Femininity than any of the boneheads talking about it today! Peace, Jodi