A Girl Who Knows

My little girl is a girl who knows who she can count on.



A girl who knows who she can lean on.


A girl who knows she's loved and has no problem loving back.


As her mom, couldn't ask for anything more.


That's my dad in the hat and my mom in the bottom right corner.


We're both pretty lucky girls. :-)

Letters of Intent - First Week of School Edition

It's time for Letters of Intent! If you want more where this came from, just click the button above and head over to myfourboys.net. The links always manage to tickle my funny bone!

*****

Dear Developers of Modern Medicine:

You’ve done so much for us in the last 100 years or so. I won’t even try to detail the various and painful ways I could have met my end during my short life if it had not been for you. I know you’re still working on some of the big ones like Alzheimer’s, Cancer, HIV, and Male Pattern Baldness, but could you do me a little teeny favor? Maybe, like, on your coffee break or something?

Here’s the issue: My route to work takes me directly past our local high school and – this being the first week of school – I’ve noticed some, um… erratic driving behaviors. Now, as a parent, I totally understand the desire (or even the need) to have one’s children transport themselves as soon as they are able. No doubt mine will be doing the same thing when they reach the appropriate age. But that’s the thing; as a concerned driver I’m feeling more and more like the appropriate driving age should, in reality, be somewhere around 25.

So, I know you’re busy and all, but if you could just do me a solid and develop some kind of pill that counteracts teenage impulsiveness and stupidity I’d totally appreciate it. It wouldn’t even need to work all the time. As long as it kicks in when the user sits behind the wheel of an 800 pound metal death machine, I’d be happy.

K? Thanks!

Sincerely,

In Fear for My Life

*****

Dear Public School Teachers:

I’d say welcome back, but I know from watching my mom’s nearly 30 years of teaching that you’ve all been back at work (mostly unpaid) for at least two weeks. Sure, there are a few bad apples in your bunch. There are a few bad apples in any bunch really. It’s too bad that those apples tend to get the most publicity and make the biggest impression on the public.

So I just want to say in it writing: I’ve done what you do (as a substitute) and I’ve watched what you deal with (as the daughter of a teacher) and there is NO WAY that I would choose to be as overworked and underappreciated as you all are.

I can’t imagine walking into work on my first day after vacation knowing that there will be at least a few upset, selfish, entitled whiners who have already made up their minds about you because of things their friends have told them. And then to know that you’re going to have to deal with their kids all year too. (Yeah, see what I did there?)

So my prayer for all of you this year is that you find your supportive and involved parents early, that if you have kids they can wait until you get your first paycheck of the year to get their new school clothes, and that the few bad apples in your classes don't spoil the bunch either.

Sincerely,

Grateful that Teaching is Your Calling and Not Mine

Thankful Thursday - An Exclamation Point for Every Question Mark

Preamble

This one's a long one guys! I've written this post in my head dozens of times over the past year and a half. Like a lot of families, the past 18 months or so have been difficult to say the least. Without going into too much detail and ruining the image of perfection that my thousands of readers have of me (ha!), let's just say that the economy has been unkind. We're not out of the woods yet. And I kind of wanted to wait on this post until we were. That way I could tell everyone how great everything worked out in the end. But the truth is, life isn't fair and I don't know that it's all going to work out great in the end. So hopefully this post will offer a little encouragement to someone else who's going through a hard time. If not, feel free to click over to one of the many posts with adorable toddler pictures instead. Or click away all together. I promise you won't hurt my feelings.

Fair warning though... I don't have any real answers. Call me if you find some, k?

**********

There have been about a million books written on the subject of why bad things happen, why they happen to us, why they happen to "good people". Although some offer truth and solace, many are filled with platitudes and cliches. Some even go so far as to suggest that we attract only the things that we think about, and that somehow people who seem to be stricken by one crisis after another have brought it all upon themselves. I don't think there are really many good explanations out there.

If you're looking for a really good explanation for why bad things happen to good people, let me just advise you NOT to read to book of Job. This guy had it all. He was wealthy, powerful, had an amazing family and tons of friends. On top of that he was a fantastic guy in all respects. He was a godly man who acted with integrity and character, he was respected by all who knew him. And he lost everything. E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G. All 10 of his children died. He lost his land, property, animals and was reduced to utter poverty. His extended family abandoned him for fear that his plight would somehow rub off. To add insult to injury, he broke out in horrible boils and became basically untouchable. The only people left who would even speak to him suggested that he must have done something wrong and really peeved God off. His loving wife went so far as to suggest that he simply curse God and die (which could have been a subtle hint at suicide).

This story is fascinating to me, in part, because of the way Job handles his troubles. For a long time he stays steadfast in his faith. He says that he knows he's done nothing to displease God. He doesn't even try to give an answer for all that has befallen him. He simply says the the Lord "gave and He has taken away." Finally after months (maybe years) of suffering, he cries out to God and asks for an explanation for his dire circumstances. The answer he receives is basically (and I'm paraphrasing here) "NO! Who are you to ask God about His reasoning? And even if I did tell you, all that would happen is that your tiny human brain would explode." (again, paraphrasing) Actually, the passage starts like this:

"Then the LORD answered Job out of the storm.(not usually a good sign) He said:

² "Who is this that darkens my counsel
with words without knowledge?

³ Brace yourself like a man;
I will question you,
and you shall answer me."

That's right, buddy, brace yourself like a man! These are words I never want to hear God throw my way.

Anyway, then he goes on to ask a series of unanswerable questions like, "Where were you when I laid the earth's foundation? Does the rain have a father? Who has the wisdom to count the clouds?"

My favorite portion says this:

¹² "Have you ever given orders to the morning,
or shown the dawn its place,

¹³ that it might take the earth by the edges
and shake the wicked out of it?"

After about two pages of this kind of questioning, Job's basic answer is, "Um, oops. Clearly I've made an error here. I didn't mean to speak out of turn. I'll shut up." Here's what he says:

⁴ "I am unworthy—how can I reply to you?
I put my hand over my mouth.

⁵ I spoke once, but I have no answer—
twice, but I will say no more."

God responds by going on for another two pages about all the wonders of creation of which Job was completely unaware. At one point He asks Job, "Would you discredit my justice? Would you condemn me to justify yourself?" Job concludes the verbal beating he just got conversation by stating that he, "spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know."

Eventually, as you may or may not know, Job gets everything back double. He has ten more kids (I suspect that this may also have worked as a punishment for his unbelieving wife). He gains back twice the land, animals, property and wealth than he ever had before. He lives his life healthy and happy and dies old and full of years.

*****

Taken at face value, I like that resolution. I don't want a "and they all lived happily ever after" ending so much as a "and there was justice in the world, everything was fair, and they all got what they deserved" kind of ending. Because I like to think of myself as someone who deserves for things to turn out alright in the end. We probably all do. But what strikes me most about the story of Job, when I really really look at it, is that his biggest lesson was that he DIDN'T deserve for everything to turn out alright. In fact, he was told that he didn't even deserve an explanation for why it wasn't turning out alright.

Job didn't do anything different at the end of the story than he did at then beginning. He was still righteous and just and honest and an all around great guy. He didn't do anything wrong to deserve his difficulties and he didn't do anything right to finally be released from them. He was just a guy, doing his best to have integrity, living through a troubled life in an unfair world.

And life is still troubling.

And the world is still unfair.

And I don't have any answers for that.

I don't know why good, honest, hard working men who want only to feed their families are losing their jobs while crooks and criminals are still "playing the system". I don't know why certain loving, selfless, stable adults try for years to have children while others who have made terrible, dangerous life choices continue to have child after healthy child who they can't or won't care for. I don't know why six women who I personally know have lost children - two just weeks before their anticipated birth and the rest within a few months after. I don't know why my own family's circumstances have gone in the direction that they have.

I just hope that like Job I have the strength to continue forward in gratitude. I hope that I can say as Job says in Chapter 13 "Though He slay me, still will I hope in Him" I don't know that things will turn out to be better in the end. Maybe I'll never know in this life the reasons for some of the struggles we're facing. But I have to have hope in One who does. I don't know what I would do if I ever let that hope die.

I got the title of this post from the chorus of a song called "Naive" by Chris Rice. If you don't know who he is, I suggest you do a little 'net research. In my opinion, he'd be called a poet if he weren't also such an amazing musician. It's obvious by some of his lyrics that Chris has faced some real heartbreak in his life. I'm always inspired when I listen to him that no matter how dire or depressing the subject matter, he is determined to turn his message to hope at the end. I think that's what a lot of us need right now. The lyrics to the chorus are:

Am I naive to want a remedy for every bitter heart?

Can I believe you hold an exclamation point for every question mark?

Can I leave the timing of this universe in bigger hands?

And may I be so bold to ask you... please hurry.

My favorite Chris Rice song is called "The Final Move". There are plenty of websites out there now where you can listen to a song the whole way through once before they ask you if you'd like to buy it. If you want a little pick-me-up find that song on one of those sites. My favorite part goes like this:

It was Love that set this fragile planet rolling,

Tilted at our perfect twenty-three.

Molecules and men infused with holy

Finding our way around the galaxy.

And Paradise has up and flown away for now

But Hope still breathes and Truth is always true.

Just when we think it's almost over

Love has the final move.

Love has the final move.

I'm pretty sure that I'll never get answers on this side of life for some of the insanity that happens in our little corner of the universe. But getting answers, or even making them up, just isn't my job. Although we have no resolution, no happy ending, no explanation for our current circumstances, I choose to believe that someone a lot bigger than me has the final say in these things.

At first, I wanted to wait to publish this post until everything had worked out. I wanted to tie it all up in a little bow so that everyone who reads this will have hope. Because if everything could work out so great for us....

eventually,

maybe it will for you too....

eventually.

But here's all the hope I have to offer: I'm not in charge of my circumstances, and you aren't in charge of yours. I don't even really have any good answers for why things are the way they are. But no matter if things work out better or worse than I imagine they will, I choose hope. I will believe that somewhere, at the end of all of this, Love really does have the final move.

And I will be thankful for that.

Time Marches On

The summer of 1996, nearly all of my school friends turned 16. Almost without exception, they drove to school the first day of our junior year of high school. The scene in the parking lot was a parade of sophistication in borrowed mini-vans.

The beginning of the school year was a strange time for me. My birthday being in November, I always felt like I was returning to school having missed out on some monumental change. For the first three months I might as well have been a whole year younger than most of my classmates. The fact that most of my friends hit those milestones a few steps ahead of me made me feel not only envious, but just a little immature. I comforted myself (seriously, I did) with the idea that as we got older I would continue to be the youngest in the group of my peers. Even in my self-conscious and angst-ridden teens, I had the sense that being young wouldn't be a curse forever.

In the summer of 2010, nearly all of my school friends – many of whom I have not seen in person since school let out in… ahem… 2002 – are turning 30. One would think that I might feel a little younger, a bit less matured, if you will. With a baby on the way and a “baby” who daily – and rather indignantly – informs me that she is no longer a baby, but a Big Girl, I have a slightly altered concept of time.

I don't know when exactly it was that the passage of time became less an imperceptible crawl and more a hurricane of once-in-a-lifetime moments, but it has. I look into my daughter's face and Time stares back at me, daring me to snatch as many precious memories from the air as I can before they evaporate. As I careen toward the big three-oh, I'm not as concerned with catching up with my friends as I am grateful for a few extra months to think about what's coming and soak it all in. It appears that my high-school self may have actually been right about a few things.

Still, I consider myself more optimistic than fearful. I've been pushing Thirty for a while now, it's only fair that Thirty finally push back. As I hear the tiny voice in the back seat remind me that she's "gwowin' up!" I remember that there's still plenty of growing for me to do too. Deep down, I know that the best is yet to come. Even though it will be much sooner than I'd like to imagine that the parade of sophistication includes my borrowed mini-van.

At Jeff's

This post is LONG overdue, but I still just had to tell the story. Back in July (See? I told you. Long overdue) we went over to our friend Jeff's house. Norah still talks about it to this day. Between the llamas, the two momma horses with their babies, and getting to pick and eat her very own strawberries right off the bush, the day made quite an impression. Sometimes I hear her on her little cell phone talking to Jeff about his animals. You know, just checking up on everything.

Our friend Jeff's house is one of those places where a girl like me can instantly relax. It's so homey and cozy, with just a touch of "did I really see that?" whimsey. There's plenty of eclectic, knick knacks to inspect and every one has a story. "Oh yeah, I got that at this little art fair I stumbled on in Santa Fe. That one? Oh I just made that on a random Saturday." There's a fantastic vegetable garden, flowers, the above mentioned animals, an arbor with four chair hammocks for outdoor conversation, plenty of grass to run and play on, an indoor fish pond, and a few cowhide rugs thrown in just for fun. Seriously, it's like a place you'd read about in a novel about a young child who has to live with her distant relatives but then discovers that they're magic. I can't even describe how much fun we had lazing around on a lovely July day. I've shared a few pictures in other posts, but here are a few more.

Norah, relaxing in her very own "fwing chair".

Helping Jeff water the flowers.

Look Mom! I helped!

Picking fresh snap peas in the garden.

The apple tree photo shoot.

Me, relaxing. This is the best picture I've had taken of myself in a while. :-)

Speaking of which, I got almost no photos of the grown ups present (except as background scenery in the garden photos) and sadly, I didn't get any pictures of Norah with the horses. Looks like I'm going to have to call Jeff and arrange another play date!

Letters of Intent - Time Out

Dear Time,

Stop moving so fast! Seriously. Take a breather, will you? I'm grateful for your ability to slowly increase my child's interest in potty training, but her growth is getting a little too overwhelming for me. Currently she may only be depositing a Tinkerbell phone and princess keys into her purse, but when she says, "I'm goin' out." and means it, I'm blaming you.

Sincerely,

The Mom Who is NOT Getting Any Older

Dear Sweet Baby Jones #2,

It may feel like a lovely, squishy, warm waterbed, but what you are jumping on is actually Mommy's bladder. My day is much less efficient when I have to run to the bathroom every 20 minutes. Your big sister will be happy to inform you that you are not, in fact, allowed to jump on the bed at all. I'm not sure how I'd put you in time out at the point so... don't make me stop ignoring my gummy bear craving!

Love,

The Lady Who Decides What You Eat

FAIR-ly Cute

When you ask Norah about The Fair, she makes the same face every time; the face that she made on the car ride home. And yes. I'm pretty sure that's her first fist pump.

A FAIR-ly Good Time

On Wednesday I was taking Norah home from school (she still goes once a week). The major intersection that we cross on the way home is right across the street from the county fairgrounds. We had to stop ot the light, so there was plenty of time for Norah to see all of the lights and attractions across the street. She pointed and exclaimed, "Yookit that!" (she still says her Ls like Ys)

I told her that was the fair and that we were planning on visiting over the weekend to see the animals. She got really excited and yelled, "Norah play with the alligators!!" Um... no. :-) I explained what kind of animals were at the fair and that we probably wouldn't get to pet too many of them, but we'd get to see lots and lots. She was slightly disappointed about not getting to play with alligators, but super excited about the rest of it. So on Friday afternoon we headed to the fair.

We saw TONS of animals, including the pygmy goats, which were a big favorite. Notice that she is actually taller than the goats. She was really excited about that. They were also some of the best "talkers". I wish I'd gotten a video of it. They would "baa" at her and she would laugh back at them (which was a pretty accurate approximation of the sound they were making). Then they'd "baa" right back at her again.



For the record, there are no pygmy goat pens currently being built on our property. I'm just sayin'.



Norah also got to pet a goat who was on a walk with her owner. I was so busy helping her not to be afraid that I didn't manage to get a picture. Imagine a full-grown goat (maybe the same height as a Great Dane) on a leash, being held by a 7-year-old girl with pig tails standing patiently as Norah pats her slightly harder than necessary on the flanks. Yes. It was that adorable. Especially the sweet little girl who stopped in the middle of her walk to make sure my baby got to pet a goat.


Finally, another sweet lady offered to take her show bunny out of her hutch so that Norah could pet her. She had been talking all week about petting bunnies, so I thought she'd be thrilled. After a little bit of coaxing, she was. I'm so grateful that we live in a community where people are willing to take the time to share. It's so much fun to see Norah have all these new experiences.

Later on I'll post a picture of the face she makes when you ask how she liked the fair. Stay tuned for cuteness!!

Finally Friday

I think we've been workin' too hard.

Tew On Ah-Gust

This is what Norah has been saying for months when asked the question, "How old are you?"

"Tew on Ah-Gust"

We don't know exactly where she got this except that she maybe overheard us telling other people that she would be two in August when they asked. It's a pretty common question when your kid is about the size of an 18 month old and talks like she's three.

Wait. How old is she?

She'll be two in August.

The week of her birthday, which was the 5th, we started prepping her. Once her birthday came, when someone asked how old she was she could just say two! If she wanted to give a longer answer - because you know, sometimes you just want to use more words - she could say, "Two years old." She liked that and took to it rather quickly. Now she happily replies to anyone who asks her age, "TWO!" or sometimes "Two yees oat." That's my grown up girl.

She also had a blast at her parties. "Huh?" you may say to yourself, "It totally looks like she just wrote parties... as in plural. For a two year old." Well, you got me. At first it was just going to be a small affair with a few friends and all of our family. Mark's parents and brother DROVE out from California so we were definitely having the whole family up for a party. Long story short, the guest list got longer than I originally thought it would - because I can't resist an excuse to have people over - and it ended up being a better idea to split the parties up into slightly more manageable groups.

So we had around 20 family-type people up on Friday evening and 24 churchy-friend-types up on Tuesday. My AMAZING husband handled dinner for both nights. I'd say that he should be a caterer but I'd rather he have a job where he, you know, sees us every once in a while. I didn't get a ton of pictures because I was "surfing the chaos" as my friend Jill likes to say. But here are some highlights.

First Party:

Whenever we asked what she wanted for her birthday, she said, "Cupcake. And candles. I blow on 'em." We can only hope that she'll always be that low maintenance.

But, of course, she got some presents too. I only got a picture of her with the present from my parents. But believe me, there were more.

At some point I'll get some pictures of her with the play kitchen my in-laws got her. She absolutely adores that too. So much so that she tried to insist that it be in the middle of the living room forever. Um, no.

I ended up making her a tutu. I know. Since when have I been crafty? Since the only ones I could find online were $40 with shipping and since I knew that my daughter would be just as likely to tear the tulle apart as to dance in it. She was so excited about it that we didn't get a good picture because she was so busy spinning in it - a hallmark of tutu making success I'd say - but here it is, proof that I can do something crafty that turns out nice enough to document with pictures.

The colors look better in person. And next time I'd use thinner ribbon. But still, not bad for my first attempt. And I did most of it while sitting in front of the TV. That's my kind of craft!

Second Party:

I got a few more pictures of the second party. That was mostly because all of the moms present at the second party also blog and they reminded me to take pictures. Thanks guys!!

She'd gotten some practice at blowing out candles by this point. For some reason though, at both parties, she could only blow out the one on her right. We had to help her with the other one.

This is what happens when you tell a table of four girls and a boy to "Say cheese". The girls snap to and the boy looks away and keeps eating.

This is what happens when you tell the Big Kid Table to "say cheese". The boys show you the food in their mouths and the girl looks around to see if she's the only one saying cheese.

And this is what happens when you try to get eleven kids to stay still and smile for the camera.

Also this.

Then eventually this.

I wish I could have gotten a shot of all the parents standing behind me yelling "CHEESE!!!!". It would have been just as hilarious.

So thanks to everybody who came out (especially those who drove forever to get here). You all truly made Norah's birthday a party to remember. Um... both of them.

It's August!?!

This has been a crazy last few weeks. I did so well blogging for the first three weeks of July, but then life took over again. Thursday evenings are usually my blogging time. Yes. I set up three or four posts at a time and then "set" them to post at random times throughout the week so it looks like I'm super consistent. It's the 21st century version of mulit-tasking. The last few Thursdays have been super crazy and as a result, no blogging. Not even any early morning, mid-week posts.
So now I have a few things to catch up on and a TON of new stuff to tell all three of you about. Thursday was Norah's second birthday. We had a family get together yesterday evening since Mark's parents and brother drove all the way out from California, but they're only here for the weekend. Pictures are coming later in the week, but let me tell you, it was a fiesta!
On Tuesday evening we have a little get together with friends. There will be more than 10 kids there for that "little get together". I'm hoping that we'll have time to capture some hilarity on camera.
So to all of you busy moms out there... believe it or not, it's August!