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Thursday, March 10, 2011

Things that happened on my morning run:

• wished I would have brushed my teeth
• surprised myself with how far I got in a short amount of time
• couldn't feel my fingers
• got lost
• underestimated my return run time
• thought I might be late for work
• turned my ankle
• thought I might vomit
• stopped looking at the clock
• watched the sun come up
• felt amazing
• had time to write a blog before work

It's going to be a good day. I'm speaking it into existence.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

I Will Change Your Name

[song from church on Sunday]

I will change your name.
You shall no longer be called

Wounded, outcast, lonely or afraid.

I will change your name.

Your new name will be

Confidence, joyfulness, overcoming one,

Faithfulness, friend of God, one who seeks my face.

Monday, November 29, 2010

Three Sips of Beauty

Her right hand didn't speak the truth most often,

So she learned to paint and write with the left.

And learning to create again she softened and loved herself again.

Oh, she loved herself again.

And she sips a bit of beauty.

Each day she sips of beauty.

And the pain grows weak with beauty.

So she takes three sips of beauty each day.

~Sara Beth Geoghegan

Thursday, September 23, 2010

A Thousand Words or Twelve Hours, Whichever Comes First

In August, a friend of mine sent me information about a project that I found intriguing. The challenge was to document your day in pictures. I missed the August deadline, but I decided it was interesting enough to carry over into September. All pictures were taken on my Palm Pre. This is what I came up with on one particular Tuesday...

Rousing myself after "sleeping in" while Marc handles the morning routine.

Breakfast and writing on the porch

Snack time calls for J-E-L-L-O!

Watching our favorite movie in the living room tent

Doing dishes during Catelynn's lunch marathon

Playing guitar during nap time

Waking the Beauty from her sleep...sadly a fairly regular occurrence

Least favorite intersection on the school commute.

Eakin pick up, guarded by the trusty Ms. Jackson

After school refreshment

What day would be complete without a trip to Target?!

ZUMBA!!!!!!!!!!

Family night at Blue Coast Burrito

Showers all around

Tackling the mountain of laundry from the week.

Weekly phone date with a dear and faithful friend.

To finish out the day, I spent 30 minutes cleaning my shower. I probably could have used an hour.

And....scene.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Sunrise

Blackness fades to gray-blue, transluscent yellow, pale pink.
Light sharpens outlines blurred by darkness.
Chirping duty transitions from crickets to birds.
Windows are illuminated as street lights are quenched.
Dewey coolnesss is warmed into submission.
Sleepy eyes give way to minty-fresh breath.
Night's stillness is factrued by engines ignited for the hour of rushing.
Old mercies are out; new mercies are in.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

One Night Stand

A night stand is such a useful piece of furniture. Our bedroom set only has one, and I successfully lobbied for it to be on my side of the bed, primarily because it is the only way I can see an alarm clock without my glasses at night. I wondered the other day what its contents said about me. Not the inside (that's another story), but the pile of things on top laid out for frequent and easy access. It seems that some sort of light source is a staple and an excellent means of expression of style. My lamp was a gift, but it matches my aesthetic perfectly (simplicity with an interesting twist). There is also a large presence of electronic devises. I'm a fan. My netbook (where I'm typing at this very minute from my favorite coffee "Perch"), is the newest welcome addition. While I enjoy the ability to be mobile, my favorite surfing spot is not far from that bedside table and involves pillows. The iPod and speaker dock are quite possibly the best money ever spent and would have paid for themselves many times over if usage and enjoyment were forms of currency. My phone, charged and at the ready, is smarter than I am and contains at least half of my brain (the organizational half, that is). The alarm clock is an unkind, necessary evil whose snooze button I push with great fervor, especially on days it calls at 5:15am. Lastly, there is no shortage of reading materials should I tire of electronics, which has been known to happen. My current pile includes an IKEA catalogue, another Donald Miller title (I have become a groupie), The Catcher in the Rye, and The Three Martini Playdate. The variety represents classic familiarity, spiritual sensitivity, modern flair, and a questionable drinking problem. One could argue there is an indication of indecision and lack of follow through...I mean, really, who reads three books at once?! More often than not, one of the kids' toys or a creative offering makes a presence. But one thing is certain: while a rolling stone has been noted to be moss-free, even the most frequently used night stand will still gather dust!

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Hands in the Air

There are a lot of war stories in the Old Testament. Some of them are graphic, some strange, and many are just downright boring. I'm not sure why God thought it necessary to include so many in scripture. Maybe I will add that to my growing list of questions to ask Him. Anyway...there is one in Exodus that I find particularly interesting. My pastor preached on this passage close to three years ago, and I have continued coming back to it frequently since then. In chapter 17, Joshua leads the Israelite army in battle against the Amalekites. I'm sure there are many interesting historical facts to draw out about this skirmish, but I find the war tactics to be of greatest intrigue. Moses, who was more of the political leader to Joshua's military presence, stood on a hill with a stick in his hand while the men fought. I'm sure some kind of modern day parallel could be drawn, but I will resist. But it wasn't just any stick that Moses was holding. It was the staff of God. While I don't believe the actual stick carried any mystical powers, Moses had been toting it around Egypt and the desert for a while, and it had been a part of some pretty big events (ie: that whole parting of the Red Sea thing). But really, the stick isn't the point either. According to Exodus, whenever Moses lifted his arms (and the staff) up during the battle, the Israelites were winning. If he rested his arms, the Amalekites gained the upper hand (boo!). Of course, as the battle waged over the course of the day, Moses's arms got tired. (Wait for it....here comes the good part!!) Verse 12 said that Aaron and Hur, two friends who stood on the hill with Moses, held Moses's arms when they got heavy while he sat on a stone. And that is how the battle was won! Moses's arms were steady until sunset, and Joshua defeated the enemy.
At the risk of sounding like a sermon illustration, I can relate. It may be mellow-dramatic to call life a battle, but hey, sometime the metaphor is fitting. And there are certainly times when I have felt like life demanded something that I was physically (or emotionally) incapable of mustering. But here's the good part: you've got a friend (as James Taylor sweetly sings), or in my case, upwards of 10 to 20 of them, maybe more! It would be impossible to recount the number of figurative arm-raisings my friends have stood through with me. Today as I revisited the Exodus story yet again, I imagined Moses begging Aaron and Hur to let go of him. Even with someone else's muscles doing the lifting, he must have felt pain as all of the blood drained from his limbs and his nerves tingled in protest. Good friends will help you with the hard stuff, even when you wish they wouldn't. God created people to be relational, some more than others. I'm probably more of a "some" than an "other." I'm a person who needs people, and I guess that makes me lucky, if you ask a certain Ms. Streisand. As I look at my life, I'm humbled by the quality, quantity, and variety of people I have to journey with me. "Winter, spring, summer or fall, all you have to do is call...you've got a friend." It is a beautiful thing.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Girls with Guitars

I have always wished that I could play an instrument. As a child, I took piano lessons for several years. My talents never seemed to match the number of years I had been plunking away at it. I like to blame the fact that I am left handed. My piano teacher used to always chastise me for playing the bass clef too loudly. I quit in middle school, and I have never regretted it (like many people say they do). Perhaps it is because I don't really care to do things that I'm not very good at, but I can't say for sure. Just after college, I decided I should learn to play the accordion. This was almost entirely inspired by the Indigo Girls and their use of the instrument in some of their songs. It is possible that I had a secret hope that they would hire me as the band nurse/accordion player. I may or may not have had a dream along those lines at some point. It seemed a natural progression since the piano had been such a success...but alas, as far as I ever progressed in that endeavor was holding the instrument (I even took a picture!). Just over a month ago, I asked Marc to teach me to play the guitar. He started me off with a few chords, then I started tracking down charts on the internet to learn more. What I lack in aptitude, I make up in commitment. It has been amazing to start learning to play songs that I love. For Mother's Day, Marc and the kids got me a guitar. This is the first instrument that I have ever actually owned. So now I can't give up. I will almost surely never play in public, but I'm officially learning!

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Juxtaposition

Juxtaposition: noun, the act or instance of placing two things side by side, often in contrast or opposition to one another.

Sometimes mommies get to go out. Excuse my soapbox, but it bothers me when parents say that they don't get to do the things they love (or used to love) after they have children, as if they are under the tyrannical rule of these small people. I am quite familiar with the added challenges of enjoying extra-curricular activities after offspring enter the picture. But I choose to believe that I'm a better mother, not worse or less devoted, because I go see my favorite band every time they are in town (or anywhere in the tri-state area). I hope I'm not stepping on toes, but hey, it's my blog, so I'm saying what I think! Tonight, I went to a concert to benefit the fight against ovarian cancer. I even dragged along another mommy. As most people know, I am not a very tall girl. In the course of getting dressed for the evening, I put on a new pair pants and realized that they were definitely too long, even with my tallest heels. It is also fairly well known by most of my acquaintances that I am neither crafty or domestical. But I was determined to wear the pants, so I set my mind to hand stitching a hem, a task I had never attempted but had seen done many times over. After a painstaking period of time with needle and thread, a long search for my ever-elusive iron, and absolutely zero injuries between the two jobs, I had one pair of very nicely shortened pantalones. About an hour later, two mommies headed out to an event we both deemed too cool for us, arriving fashionably late (but probably still too early). Music was played, drinks were consumed, and a good time was had by all. Just before I left the house tonight, I realized that I forgot to make the dessert I was supposed to drop off at Wesley's school in the morning. Refusing to admit complete defeat, I set out on a quest at midnight to procure the ingredients of the delicious dessert bars I had promised. I came home from the concert, shed my beads and lacy tank, and exchanged white linen pants for jean shorts and black Barbie doll heels for less precarious flats. Two Kroger stops later (they actually really do close at midnight...all of them), I pulled in to Walmart. This is a BIG deal. I am not a fan of the super store and probably shop there about twice a year. I bee-lined for the baking aisle, resisting the overachieving mommy instinct to gather ingredients for the made-from-scratch bars I had intended to make. Humbly, I scooped up the box mix to make an almost identical treat in half the time.

And that, my friends, is what I like to call juxtaposition. One part blossoming seamstress, one part cancer fighting concert goer, and one part cheater dessert baking PTO mom. Stir them all together and you get...well, me.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Village People

While I do have a slight obsession with the YMCA, that is not the village to which I refer. Lately, I have developed at rather strong affection for Hillsboro Village, a lovely little subsection of Nashville proper. I have frequented that part of town for a number of years, since it is home to Vanderbilt Children's Hospital. However, a twelve hour shift with a 30 minute lunch break does not allow for much in the way of neighborhood exploration. Since Wesley started going to school at Eakin Elementary, the Village and I have had a chance to become better acquainted. I think we have a future together. There is a seamless mixture of hip stores and restaurants with semi-historic establishments, ripe with character. Add to that the stark contrast of city life in the midst of urban homey-ness, and you have something rather magical, if you ask me. Yesterday I took a few pictures while jogging through the area in question. Upon seeing them, I feel certain you could fall in love along with me.

Yummy lunch (handmade pizza with figs and goat cheese) at Fido, one of my favorite coffee shops

Local home with a swing where the kids play after school

The Clothing Xchange, full of second hand treasures

The dragon at "Dragon Park"

(which is actually a sea serpent at Fannie Mae Dees Park :))

The Belcourt Theater, my current favorite Nashville concert venue due largely to general admission. I have seen Jennifer Knapp, Ingrid Michaelson, and Brandi Carlile grace its stage.

Eakin Elementary, the site of Wesley's primary education

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Guten Morgen

Good morning, mess of wispy curls and popsicle toes belonging to my favorite almost-three-year-old girl who simply must be cuddled.

Good morning, bright sunshine through my bedroom window promising 70 degree temperatures begging to be met with a tank top.

Good morning, favorite fuzzy slippers shuffling along chilly wooden floors.

Good morning, scrambled eggs prepared by my newly-reintegrated husband before leaving to take my favorite kindergartner to school.

Good morning, lemon curd delighting my tongue with the perfect fusion of sweet and sour.

Good morning, Patti Griffin lilting your favorite downtown church songs.

Good morning, bold coffee in my favorite over-sized mug with just the right splash if creamy half and half.

Good morning, inspiration for blog posting and good day having.

Or shall I say, "Guten Morgen"?

Friday, February 19, 2010

Mommy Purse

When I became a mother, it wasn't the size of my purse that changed, so much as the contents therein. I have enjoyed a spacious hand bag for a number of years. In fact, one of my long-time favorite purses is a plaid, flannel-like lovely from the Gap that I affectionately call "my Mary Poppins bag." This references both its funky style and its freakish ability to be crammed full of objects, including but not limited to a potted plant. The contents of a woman's purse have traditionally been regarded with reverence. No one dares to enter that secret trove. A mommy purse is something else entirely. It is a rare thing that a mommy purse is actually even closed in the first place. Between being filled past capacity and a the complete disregard by small people for the previously stated rule against trespassing, the mystery of the mommy bag is gone. But oh the random treasures that one may find! Aside from the necessary staples of a mommy purse, such as band-aids and tissues (which I never seem to have!), a great many other discoveries await!

Below you will find a list of objects that I have ACTUALLY had in my purse...

• white summer sandals for my infant, who I insisted on putting shoes on despite her insistence on taking them off. Since the shoes were in my purse, you can see who won that battle.
• children's socks (sometimes clean, sometimes dirty) for any impromptu trips to a bounce house or play land at a fast food restaurant
• snacks...possibly for the children
• coupon organizer (though I am not very good at actually using the coupons!)
• Crystal Light on the go drink mix. This was a brilliant idea that my friend KJ shared with me. Unfortunately, one of the packets opened and turned everything it touched into a rosy shade of fruit punch.
• fabric bag containing a plastic baby spoon, bib, diaper, wipes (condensed version of a diaper bag that I adopted with the second child).
• breast pads (if you don't know, don't ask)
• a Bakugan, trains, board books, baby dolls
• toddler underpants, mostly clean

*This list is by no means comprehensive and does not include items that are too large and must be carried, pack mule-style.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Sick Day

Every mommy knows there is no such thing as a sick day. In a severe case, perhaps one's husband can stay home from work. But alas, this option is currently unavailable to me. In the last 10 months, I have been debilitating ill 5 times (ie: unable to remain vertical for any length of time). This is an unusually high number for me. I have had strep throat, pneumonia, and 3 separate bouts with a stomach virus. Below, I will attempt to break down the math behind today's "sick day" (which actually started yesterday around 4pm)
meals cooked...0
oven pizzas eaten...1
leftovers reheated...2 (one of which was leftover oven pizza)
unneeded snow days that I was thankful for since I couldn't possibly drive...1
movies watched...1
hours of Wii played...? (I choose not to count)
NPT shows watched...2
books read once the room stopped spinning...4
naps taken...1 (if you only count the sleeping done in a bed)
perfectly wonderful children neglected for the day...2
limbs broken...0
successful sick day...1
Perhaps a resolution to take a daily multivitamin is in order?

Saturday, January 30, 2010

snOMG

This probably makes me a bad mommy, but I still think it was awesome!

Friday, December 4, 2009

TGIF

before 8am....

• wake up 30 minutes late, thankful that my son (who is fully dressed and ready to walk out the door) has a more reliable internal clock than I do
• make him cereal for breakfast and a ham sandwich for lunch
• drop said ham sandwich on the floor
• enact 5 second rule
• watch Wesley become a man while he takes our trash can to the curb for me
• wake Cate and spend more time on her hair and outfit than I did on my own
• feed Cate a deconstructed bowl of cereal (banana in a peel, Cheerios in a ziploc, milk in a sippy cup)
• drive 17 miles to Wesley's school
• drop him off 3 minutes earlier than I do on days that I remember to set my alarm and have time to put on make up

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Cheating

This really isn't a blog post. It is a link to someone else's blog post. But it is a profound and stirring entry from a good and wise friend of mine. Please, please, please read it!

http://michaelkelleyministries.wordpress.com/2009/10/19/leukemia-reflections-year-3/#comment-2134

Friday, October 9, 2009

Time Flies...

....when you're raising children, among other things. With the passage of years, Marc and I often comment that we cannot believe the kids are X years old, yet we can't even remember life without them. It seems like just yesterday, they looked like this...

and this....(or that we looked like this, for that matter....)

The older I am, the faster time moves and the more objectionable I find it. It is some kind of strange mathematical formula that could make a very interesting graph of some sort, I would think. But I know that I am not alone in these feelings. Parents are forever lamenting the relentless transitions of their babies on the path to independent adulthood. We are not planning to have any more children [note to self: edit this post should a third child make an unexpected entrance], so looking at baby pictures of Wesley and Catelynn does stir a certain amount of nostalgic longing. Any sadness, however, is trumped by my eager desire to know my children. I love the bits of behavior and conversation that allow me to peek into their personalities. I wonder about what qualities I will say, "You have always been that way. I remember when you were little you would..." It excites me to witness the formation of who they are becoming. As they grow, I feel less of a pull toward the stage they have completed and more anticipation as the next building block comes into view. The challenge in parenting (and life in general) is to remain present. To strike the perfect balance between retrospect and expectancy. Time will continue to fly. It behooves us to have fun.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

09/29/2009

Thirty years of life seemed like a significant accomplishment. Thirty-one just seems like another year. Celebrating birthdays as an adult can be difficult. I'm not one to dread the prospect of aging. I rather like the idea. Yesterday I was listening to a friend of mine describe the comfort, confidence and wisdom that is acquired with the passing of years. I feel it....the steadily decreasing angst of dwelling in my own skin. It is nice.

But as each year brings another September 29th, there is expectation. The day has a lot to live up to. Will there be parties? culinary decadence? raucous tomfoolery? On Sunday, some wonderful friends surprised me with a dinner gathering. There was sweet fellowship, yummy food and drink, laughter, and kind sentiment. It was glorious. But Tuesday still begged for its share of recognition, insistent on greatness. Friends prompted me to do something fun, fabulous, self-indulgent, wild.

The alarm clock showed no appreciation for my special day. Nor did Wesley's empty Star Wars lunch box. Nor Catelynn's dirty diaper. As far as the universe was concerned, it was just a regular old Tuesday. And that is how the day played out. Regular. Routine.

And yet as I watch the last few minutes dwindle from today, I feel overwhelmingly blessed and loved. Maybe it was this message from Marc:

"You're the most interesting person I know, the best thing to come out of Florida EVER, and the only person I would ever let buy me clothes. You are solely responsible for making my all-time favorite sounds, smells and tastes. You are the only grown-up I've ever really wanted to hug, yours are the only eyes I've ever noticed to be "especially blue today," and you're the only person about which I've ever thought, "I can't wait to find out what she thinks about..."

You're the only person who's ever made me wish I liked to dance.

You're the person I'd pick Wesley and Catelynn to grow up to be just like.

You're the only earthly thing that I really couldn't do without.

I love you.

It's the 29th here. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

Or this gift from Wesley that he hand picked on a special trip to Target with Sharon:

He decorated the gift bag with two stick people. The one labeled "me" has what Wesley calls a spit bubble declaring "I heart you" to the taller, mom-ish figure. He used a Target sticker for closure at the top. The treasures inside included a purse, chocolates, earrings and a random pink tumbler (not pictured as it is in the dishwasher in preparation for usage at breakfast tomorrow). When I showed up at his school today to have lunch with him, he noticed and complimented that I was wearing the earrings and carrying the purse.

Or maybe it was the phone call from my dad tonight to tell me how he was so proud of me and thought I had become such a wonderful woman. Or maybe the beautiful weather and my children's faces on our impromptu visit to the park. Or maybe countless other people who took 30 seconds or more to visit my Facebook wall, send a text, call by phone, or share pizza buffet for dinner. On further consideration, the day was neither regular nor routine. It was splendid. And though it ended five minutes ago, I know I will be just as blessed and loved when I wake up tomorrow.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Open Letter to Good Friends

Dear Coffee and Sunshine~

You guys are the best. Oh, how I have missed you! (Well, just you Sunshine. Coffee is no fair-weather friend.) You have invigorated my sleepy body, and I shall henceforth go out and enjoy this splendid Monday. Stay sweet! (Well, just you Sunshine. Coffee, you stay bold and beautiful.)

Your friend,

MLA

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Wii Are Family

Before Marc left, we purchased a Wii. I was hesitant to take the plunge, fearing the temptation of hours spent in front of the screen. Certainly, Wesley is eager to play at any opportunity, but such is the case with most activities children enjoy. He is very cooperative with our gaming regulations, and it has been a rather positive experience, all told! It confirms my theory that media is what you make of it. I would say that we are using it to our advantage.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Dance Forever

I want EVERYONE to see this!!! Marc doesn't know it yet, but we are SO doing this when we renew our vows. He owes me a dance.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Music is my Boyfriend

I love music. Love it. While I myself am not particularly musically inclined (aside from carrying a tune, maybe even a harmony from time to time), I consider myself a connoisseur of sorts. I have had the opportunity to enjoy multiple artists live and in person. Aside from seeing the Indigo Girls in concert more than 10 times, I have also rocked out to the following artists:

Sara Bareilles Natalie Merchant

Bela Fleck Counting Crows

Coldplay Ingrid Michaelson

Snow Patrol Ginny Owens

Sheryl Crow Amy Ray

Dave Matthews Band Rebecca St. James

Dixie Chicks KT Tunstall

NKOTB The Weepies

Jars of Clay John Mayer

Third Day Sarah McLachlan

Switchfoot Norah Jones

This list is by no means comprehensive. I'm sure there are some I have forgotten. What a privilege to be present and take in the talent of these artists. I always come away marveling and thankful for people who make this world a more beautiful place, aesthetically speaking.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Infestation Station

When we moved into our house two and a half years ago, Marc found a cute little field mouse in our garage. It was trapped in an empty trash can, and after showing it to Wesley and I, Marc let it go as we smiled and watched it scurry away. And that was just the beginning.....

Months later, I heard some strange noises while I was doing laundry--scratching...and chirping? After a few more loads, I was sure of it. Marc brought out the ladder and removed the beginnings of a nest from our dryer vent. Somehow, those bird brains had managed to fly in through the movable slats of the vent. And the were committed. Despite our initial delusions of victory, the scratching, flapping and chirping returned about a week later. Again Marc dragged the ladder to the entry point, but this time he found a completed nest with 5 eggs. Yet another science lesson before we made a trip to Home Depot for a new and improved (and bird-proof) grate for the vent.

If you have read my blog before, you may remember my encounter with a mouse in the house! I won't replay the details, more for the sake of my post traumatic stress than your boredom.

After Marc left, I rediscovered the mouse in the garage. Not the same one, perhaps, but just as terrifying. My aunt helped me set some traps and put out poison. Concurrently, I had tiny black ants around my sink and wasps in my attic. Although I was ready to throw in the towel, I pulled out the arsenal instead....

If this doesn't work, I may have to move.