Showing posts from April, 2010

35 Reasons I'm Thankful for my Husband

There's a tradition in Aaron's family that goes like this. Before the cake is cut and served, or sometime during dinner, everyone present takes a moment to talk about at least one thing they are thankful for in the birthday person, and to bless them or pray for them for something to be added in the year to come. It's an awesome tradition, I loved it from the moment I learned about it, and yes, you may borrow it. I don't think any one here will mind. Since today is his actual birthday, and he's turning 35, well... I think you get the idea. His smile, the genuine one, where I can see the little boy inside looking out through grownup eyes. His outstanding cooking. The way he uses words to empower and strengthen people. He chooses to build up, never criticize. The way he teaches, seeking to expand minds rather than just insert knowledge. His very unique/odd/grotesque? sense of humor. He can fix almost anything. His "firm grasp of the obvious." H

Weekends are Eventful

So, all week we sit around at home and do stuff like school and house work and, well, work. Then comes the weekend which is often very full and eventful and we are never home and I want a weekend come Monday to recover from the fun we had. This weekend started with Aaron's birthday party Friday night. I remembered to take pictures of the cake before it was devoured this time. Aren't these flags cute? I got them on of course, Lady Bug Suebee's shop . They are fabric and will last for many parties to come. I think I'll get a few more and have decorating taken care of from now on. His idea of a good time is to make some insanely good food for all of his friends and family to come and eat. In this case, north African style roast lamb, and jerk chicken. I forgot to take pictures of all the food spread out. Or the cooking, or everyone sitting around the fire. Bad at photo blogging, better at enjoying things, I hope. This is the view of Beema's house f

Mommy hugs can fix unlikely things

Last night the Girl wet the bed again for the first time in weeks. (This is why I don't use my kids real names BTW. In case you ever wondered.) It's also the first time in weeks that I've completely forgotten to go in after she's asleep and give her an extra hug/jostle her around a bit. She never wakes when I go in. But somehow, that I do makes all the difference in her sleep patterns, and keeps her from wetting the bed. Odd don't you think? It makes me wonder what's happening in her little head. I know the obvious answer. I've done the research. Bed wetting has to do with a combination of bladder size/strength, sleep cycles, plus a mysterious hormone/chemical that's thrown into the mix. We have lived with bed wetting for a long time. If there is something written about it, I probably own the book. So on some level, I know that when I go in I disturb her sleep cycles, perhaps knocking her out of deep sleep where she sometimes gets caught and into

One Thousand Gifts-Week 47

The way the Girl sings her bed time prayers now in imitation of Gregorian chants. Bouncing blond curls. Little's china doll lashes. Funny shows to laugh at while I sit and quilt. Baby kicks in my ribs. Long, late night talks with our big girl. Laughing together. Lemonade, especially when we all make some together. When Aaron smiles. Long toddler legs sticking out under shorts. The smell of a wood fire. When family is together. Being able to laugh at things that are irritating but can't be controlled. Like toddlers who stay awake all night. Polka dots. Phone calls with distant friends. Hair cuts at home with people gathered around talking and laughing. Aaron teaching the Boy for the first time how to shoot a BB gun at a target. The way he read the whole manual in the car to make sure he learned everything. The way he handed it to me saying, "This part is a message for parents mom, so you should probably read that so you know what it say


It's the kind of day where I can't tell if the tears that keep creeping up are from hormones, or from  exhaustion, or from legitimate issues, or all three. It's been the kind of week where we push hard until 2am just to get this finished, because it has to be done. Only tomorrow brings something equally urgent and it's push hard until morning again. Just when I think we're done that, there is more to do after all. Today I have yet another thing to finish. Something I put aside for the sake of other urgent matters all last week and just looking at it now makes me want to cry. I am done. I haven't got anything left. My reserves are exhausted and I am not only used up and wrung out but frustrated by what feels like my lack of ability to do something I should be able to do. In these moments I forget the constant pushing, the endless doing of the days prior, and instead berate myself for not being in top form today. For not being able to push past yet one more th

Could China's "Gendercide" end up changing it's gender roles?

So, there are a lot more boys than girls in China now. Everyone knows this. Though it's hit the news again recently. China's government is even concerned enough about the disparity to start trying to convince citizens to allow more girl children to be born alive. Though they're not likely to be successful in a culture where the idea of the value of sons is so deep seated and long standing. I can't help wondering however if there is something that will change China in it's perception of gender roles after all. Let's think about this for a moment. Yes, bad things are likely to happen. More women trafficked into China, higher prostitution rates, and the kidnapping of girls to be raised as child brides for those who can afford to do so. These are horrible and should not happen. However, consider this. Assuming all things stay equal and the rule of "law" in China continues, in 20 years, those boys will all be men and looking for wives. Only, there wi

What is Worship?

Aaron and I have some ongoing discussions, the kind that haven't ended yet and we've been at it for all 10 years of our marriage. One of them is our discussion of church songs and how people tend to give more thought to what kind of toaster to buy (his words) than what it is they are choosing to teach through song words on a Sunday morning. Songs usually get chosen for the tune and the beat and the popularity, but what about what they teach? I tell you that so that you will know that this post I guest wrote for Brooke, Now is the Time , is as much Aaron's as mine since it comes out of the endless discussion we have on the subject as we try to understand together what is worship, what is prayer, and what place do songs and music have in that? So go ahead and go read it if you'd like to know a bit of what I think about such things.

For my daddy

Happy Birthday. Thank-you for always being a good dad to me, even when I couldn't see it, and didn't thank-you. Thanks for not being in a hurry when I you were tucking me in at night when I was little, and taking the time to talk and answer all of my questions. Thanks for the swinging rides on your arm, even when I was really too big and it almost broke you to do it, but you did it anyway. When mom and you split up I was so angry, and I blamed you. I directed all of my hurt and anger and confusion in your direction and happily believed the worst of you, in every possible instance. Oh the fights we had. The yelling, and crying, {mine}, and the red faced barely repressed fury, {yours}, as we both said things that really hurt each other. But through all that you still did your best to be a dad to me. You came to all my concerts, and praised all my accomplishments. You offered advice where you could, though I spurned much of it, and you were there. In spite of it all,

Big Day for the Boy

This was taken just after the Boy was baptized yesterday. Here in CA that kind of thing usually happens outside, and there may just be a Mexican food buffet to eat when it's all done. I'll let him tell you why. This is what he read before they dunked him. Baptism tells the story of how how first your spirit was dead and then it was alive because you are then one of God's children and you are free people. Jesus died and came alive again so he could put his spirit in you you and give you his life. I am alive right now, the Holy Spirit is alive in me and I just want to show that I am alive and that I'm one of God's children. What it means to be God's children is to teach the whole world about God and about who he is by loving them and being kind and patient and helpful. By doing what he tells you to do to fix the broken world. That pretty much sums it up, don't you think?

It's not about forgiveness, it's about freedom

Have you ever tried to explain Good Friday to someone with no church background? If you went to Sunday school and learned the standard story you probably said something like, "Well, we were bad and God wanted to forgive us because he loves us, but he's too perfect and holy to just let us come back to him. Someone had to pay for our mistakes . So he sent his son Jesus and he didn't make any mistakes. So God arranged for him to be killed, in our place, because we deserved to die. Only because he was perfect and died for us, he didn't stay dead, God raised him up from the dead, and now we get to be with God too because that made it so he doesn't have to punish us any more." If you said that to someone who hasn't heard anything about the gospel I'm guessing the response you got was something like, WTF?! Literally. Then, if the person was intelligent, they would point out all of the things that are wrong with that story. "If God is so powerful,&quo

About a Boy

I did not know boyhood could be so sweet, that my heart would melt like this again. I mourned the disappearance of baby curves that dissolved into hard lines and sharp angles, all elbows and knees jabbing into my lap. He was my first. I wept just staring at his newborn face that first month after he was born. I fell totally in love. But when I reach out to smooth a cowlick and he catches my eye with a shy smile that thanks me for seeing him, for that touch that means more to him than it did to me, I see that heart of his looking back at me and feel a thrill of joy that he still loves me, as he did when a toddler and I was his whole world. One day, not too distant, he will see my flaws and they will shout louder than my strengths for a while. My feet of clay will finally show through and he will have to learn to love me again as the flawed human being that I am. He will understand that I am not as perfect or wise as he may have once thought and our relationship will change, a


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