What I Need to Live Up to...

If I have any complaint about BB's preschool it is this.  Too. Many. Birthday Parties.  While the parties don't compare to the likes of Hollywood celebrities or even the articles you read about life in The Big City.  They are still more than I think a five year old needs.  (or a three year old--she's getting invited, too.)  I have no idea how parents are planning to top themselves each year.

For many reason we aren't having a party this year.  I mean we ARE.  It just won't look like the last four parties....no grandparents, no invitations (yet)...Instead, we are heading to A BIG CITY to hang out as a family at a museum and then look at the Christmas lights.  On Thursday we'll let BB pick his meal.  He'll bring a goodie bag to school for each classmate (because we can't bring food...)  Sometime soon we are planning a special "play date" with three of his friends from school.  I imagine there will be cake, an activity and it will feel a bit like a party to a five year old.

This week I need to figure out how many of last years traditions I want to recreate. I best get busy...

What I've Been Up To...

For my new nephew. (it is in the mail and I am pretty sure my sister isn't checking in on my blog these days...)

 Love this!  I almost bought a pre-made pot, but am so pleased with how it turned out.

The decorating style of the nearly f-i-v-e year old!

Regretting this purchase.  :)

The Strong One

Are you an oldest child?  Are you the "strong one?"  Neither are bad ways of being (or being perceived), but there are some challenges.  My dear friend who writes at The Emmaus Road wrote a beautiful devotional piece on being strong and taking care of each other--it brought me to tears.  So often I forget that the hallmarks of my faith tradition are vulnerability, weakness and God's ability to bring life out of our human frailty.

I can't do much about people's impression of me, but I can learn to cut myself some slack.  I am strong.  But I don't always have to be....God can work with me, either way.

Third Date

Surely, the third visit is when you fall in love with a house, right?

Our house is still for sale.

But people are coming for the third look tomorrow.  Keeping my hopes in check.



*Anyone have any insightful or interesting thoughts on John's Bread of Life idea? (John 6:25...) The service on Sunday isn't using the Lectionary texts.

Lighter Matters.

Literally.  We are moving on to a topic that is lighter.  This is a mystery in my life right now...
 

 These are my jeans.  The top pair are the jeans I wore most of last fall and winter.  The bottom pair is my current go-to jean.

On both of these pants you will notice a lighter coloring on my left knee.  (The most recent one looks like the right knee is showing similar wear. But no where near the effect the left knee has.)

Why?

Yes, I am serious.  Why is this happening?

Soft Hearts

It seems to me one of the most unattractive qualities in a person is a hardened heart.  Cynical.  Cold.  Harsh.  I can come across as possessing a number of these attributes.  But for those who know me well, or the most deeply, they know it is all a facade.  (ok, sarcastic humor is just...me.)  If I actually went about life as exposed and in touch with everyone's emotions as I could be, I'd be in a perpetual crying jag.  That is so attractive.  Not always helpful.  Or, necessary.

Instead, I layer on protective armor.  Silence.  Rants and anger at those with whom I feel the most secure.  Eye rolls.  Avoidance, can be useful as well.  Plugging my ears and singing 'La, la, la' can be helpful.  So can closing my eyes and focusing only on my family.  "If the three around me are ok, everyone must be ok."

The trick becomes, in how to protect the heart with out hardening it too much.  Reality is, a heart needs the bumps and bruises in order to remain soft.  I must hear the stories people have to tell and feel their life, in order to more fully experience mine.  And beyond me, to more fully experience God.

On this All Saints Sunday, I can across one too many heart softening blows.  None of directly impacts my life or my heart...except God's heart is keeping beat with all of ours.  As I went to bed last night, I felt battle weary.

At church today we learned a neighbor across the street had died.  We had noticed action, but had never put much of the story together.  We remember him as a helpful, cheerful and kind man, with fun stories to share.  We feel--guilty? sad? careless?-that we weren't more in tune with the activity we saw.

Again at church, I learned of suicide of a young man whose life is connected to our congregation.

I have had a woman from our congregation on my mind for weeks...ever since I saw her beaming face at Target.  She was a month away from giving birth to her first child.  I was sure I was thinking about her so that our mom's group could bring her a meal and welcome her into our network.  I learned today she lost the baby and her ability to have any future children to a horribly rare pregnancy risk.  This hit too close to home.  Plus, my mothering heart aches for her and what is a particularly gut wrenching type of grief.

And then, amidst the glorious fall colors of a high school cross country running race (is there anything so inspiring as young athletes and the spirit of the spectators?) one of my favorite aunt's by marriage confided that her only sibling/sister has pancreatic cancer.  There is no armor strong enough to stop the tears when that diagnosis is proclaimed.  So I didn't.  Neither did my aunt.  We let a few tears fall and learned that our hearts beat together.

From my own experience I know the comfort in finding people who will acknowledge the horror of this cancer.  I remember the blank stares or pep talks of how "all will be ok." I remember the lonely feeling that came from knowing time with a loved just became increasing precious...and short.  I gave thanks for the soft hearts that cried with me, allowed me to, and walked into the darkness with me.

While I don't find it interesting or attractive, I understand how hearts are hardened.  I see the appeal.  It just isn't for me.

No Comment.

Our house is still for sale.

Repairing His First Love

This is BB's Bunny Bear.  You can read about him/her here.   BB, my son, has a bad habit of chewing on Bunny Bear right now.  To describe the results in words is pretty grotesque--so I will leave you to look upon the poor little guy.

In a moment of maternal love, I decided to help both BB and Bunny Bear.

I took a try at repair.  I dumped out the stuffing.  I sewed up the arms and cut up my t-shirt to make a new face.  The new eyes, nose, and mouth leave something to be desired.  I may give a try at the face another day.

  I tucked Bunny Bear in with BB last night.  The slight smile on my son's face was priceless.  I'm not sure who needs Bunny Bear to stick around a bit longer, my son or his mother.  The growth spurt on BB is going too fast, and if fixing a bear from his toddler days keeps him this side of baby-hood, I am going to work very hard to keep this little bear whole for as long as possible.

VOTE!!!

I know most people don't share my passion for all things political...but Election Day should be a holiday.  Celebrate this blessing and hard fought right.  I think it matters who you vote for...but any one who reads this knows my thoughts.  (although I must say where I am voting today, it is a choice between bad and worse, across the state...BUT I am still voting.)

All I will say is this...my home state of Minnesota better remember who they are and what makes them great among the other 50 states.  Don't make me come back there so I can campaign and vote....please, oh, please see the error of this congresswoman's ways!!!!

Going to be a late night for me...watching the results, and my blood pressure get high.  I love it!

Vote!

Better than Jazzercise

At 2:45 I got a call asking if I could show my house at 4:00pm.  Because I usually weigh situations from the perspective of "how I would do things" I figured if someone called on such short notice they must need a house ASAP. (Translation: I couldn't imagine making someone get ready for a house showing on such short notice unless I loved the house and needed to buy it today.)  So, I negotiated for 4:30 and said, "yes."

Then I....
locked the kids outside. (literally)
put cider on the stove to mull.
lite a candle.
threw all misc coats, sweatshirts, school and work bags, and paperwork from the office in to the car.
put all dirty clothing in baskets and put them in the "laundry room."
put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher...with the current clean ones.  No time to put away.
put the two baskets of clean laundry that I was folding down stairs in the "laundry area."
vacuumed.
made three beds.
cleaned up two bathrooms and a kitchen.
yelled at the kids to pick up the back yard and come inside.
put the kids in the car.
ran the swifter wet mop over the floors.
started some quiet music.
and I grabbed some candy for the kids and water for myself.  It was now 4:10.

Once in the car we circled the block and waited.  (Over time I have learned to just wait unless I have other things I must do.)

They came at 4:38pm.
They left at 4:48pm.

I have a flip book of quotes by my bed.  The quote (paraphrased) right now is, "if you can't change something, change how you think about it."

Here's how I am choosing to think about this...I got my workout in for today.

and...wait for it. 
Our house is still for sale.