Young Once.

Something is on my mind and I thought it might be worth hashing it out here.

Of my grandparents, I have only my grandmothers remaining alive. One is being cared for in a nursing home as she is living with advanced Alzheimer's disease. As sad as it is, my heart doesn't hurt over her because she is as happy as can be. She doesn't realize what's going on around her and just seems so pleased with everything. She's become sweeter and sweeter with the progression of her disease. I just don't worry about her. I said goodbye to her long ago when she still knew who I was.

The other grandmother is sharp as a tack mentally, but has been living in her own home with a Parkinson's diagnosis for 16 years. People with that diagnosis do well to live 11 years with it. She's done well... and now she's not doing well at all. I think what is so unsettling to me is that I know with all her will she wants to be independent, but that is not her story right now. She casually mentioned in a recent phone conversation that she had driven over to my aunt's and found that she was not able to command her legs to move anymore. This happens often, but she's never let it be known that it happens while she is driving. I had honestly not ever thought about it... like the issues she had were magically cured being behind the wheel... This is not good. I immediately realized that she could be driving along and need to brake, but her legs not obey her mental commands. I'm scared. I didn't realize that the friend she had who was supposed to be checking on her had now just gone ahead and moved in because she cannot be alone, but even that is not enough now. It breaks my heart because mentally, she is so sharp. She has always been a strong woman (read: strong-willed woman), but it has become a matter of safety to herself and others that she have additional levels of care.

As I followed rabbit trails through the internet trying to research options for my grandma, I kept seeing pitiful pictures of elderly people. One in particular caught my attention and as I stared at her image, as I looked at her clear, blue eyes, I couldn't help feeling like I was hearing the younger version of her telling me, "I was young once".

When A Prodigal Returns.

I've got something swimming around in my head lately and I'm not sure what I think. I've been thinking what our response is to be when a prodigal son (or daughter) returns home. I think about the parable and the response of the father, that even through the son's protesting, the father calls for the robe and ring. The father completely accepts the prodigal. Truth is, I struggle with this... I don't know how to receive a person who has run away to do their own thing, who now wants to return. My tendency is to want them to "pay" in some way - or at minimum, they wouldn't be invited to the front of the line... Anyway, I know that we're to forgive as many times as we're asked, too, but where do boundaries come in and how do we guard against abuse?

Your thoughts?

I'm Still In Jr. High.

Just so you know, part of the fun of blogging for me is coming up with titles that really cut right through the hooey and tell the truth... and then later make me wonder what topic the post actually contains.

Anyway... here is the scoop:

Sometimes I'm still afraid that if I do what I believe God wants me to do that I might end up being weird.

Now, the crazy thing in this is that EVERY time I've done what I know God has asked me to do, it has ended up being so great that I couldn't give a flying woohoo (different from hooey) what anyone thought because it really was exactly what I didn't even know I wanted.

So, I'm just wondering why I have to even wrestle with thoughts of what others think. It seems so silly in light of the overwhelming joy I know will come when I walk in the path He is laying out before me.

I Miss You.

Ok, you sweet bloggy friends. I miss you. I miss blogging. I'm SO enjoying my sweet little world and I'm loving being the momma to two (you wouldn't believe just how) sweet little boys. I'm crazy about both of them and totally get now why women lose themselves through the process we call motherhood. I find that days go by where I'm really pretty proud if I do more than take a shower and brush my teeth (in addition of course to taking very good care of my children). (I have "children" now... PLURAL!) It's a crazy little world I'm living in, but I love it.

I'm just saying that I miss sitting here typing out my thoughts and thinking I'm funny and hoping you think I'm funny, too.

Do I?

Last week a dear family who is a part of the missions organization that I spent that year with back in my twenties experienced the loss of their 10 year old little girl. My heart breaks over and over when I think of it. Because of their involvement in so many nations all over the earth, the memorial service was streamed live over the internet. I watched as John & Jane spoke of their sweet, sweet Olivia and felt physical pain at the thought of their loss. Jane shared that in the moments at the hospital that her cry out to God was "I love your will. I love your will. I'm scared, Lord, but I love your will." That was my breaking point. I heard those words and felt the deep in those words. Those words don't come out of a passing acquaintance with God or a flirtation with his Son. Those words come out of deep, deep moments of true relationship with loving, gracious, faithful Father God and his Son who came to seek (yes, he looked for you) and save the lost. Even having experienced the loss of Joshua, my brother, when he was 11 was different than the thought of the loss of Big or Little. The loss of a child... the loss of a child. My parents know what that is... I cannot fathom. What I'm challenged in this moment by is still Jane's words... "I love your will." So, Lord, make that true of my heart. I trust you in it all - that in every moment, that I can lean into your faithfulness and trust that though I may be scared, that I may be frightened by what is in front of me - that I can trust that you are almighty and see the end from the beginning. My heart knows fully that I can trust. I can trust you. I can trust you... and I love your will.

I'll Take It.

Ok. So this has been a sad few days...

Friday night after leaving here, my mom and dad went home and - as is their usual - drove onto their property and went toward the barn to put our dog, Boomer - a very large black lab - up for the night... As they were coming around, two rabbits followed by a very focused Boomer ran in front of their car. Boomer took a direct hit and rolled under their small SUV. Boomer ran off and my dad searched for him for a very long time before calling Mr. Favorite and asking him to come help look for Boom (we live about 20 minutes away). Big had already gone to bed (it was around 10 p.m.), but I wanted to go, too, so I got the poor, sleepy boy back out of bed and we went to Mom and Dad's. It took them a while, but they did find him and were able to get him to the barn. Boomer had no external injuries and was able to walk slowly. I was so relieved they had found him... Just before we left that night, I just bent down and stroked his head for just a minute. I wanted that moment.

Saturday, Dad and Mom tried giving him water and he was not able to keep it down, so Dad took him to see our good friend and veterinarian. They came back home with the news there were no broken bones. Well... Sunday sometime, Boomer went and laid in the shaded mud near the pond and was not interested in moving. Mom was increasingly worried about him and so Monday when he still hadn't moved much, she asked Dad to take him back to see the vet. When Dad got home to get Boomer, he had moved from the pond to the neighbor's barn and had died just minutes before. I was so sad. I still am. He was so stinkin' good to us and protective of Big. He was just a good ol' dog. Dad called Mr. Fave to ask him to tell me when he got home and we went out there to help bury him. It makes total sense, but I was just surprised that it surprised me how lifeless he was. That seems silly to say, but he seemed so much smaller to me.

The point to my title is that yes, it sucks to hurt. It sucks to be sad - and especially over a dog, but I have come to the place in my life and in my understanding, that I would rather love and enjoy life and the things that come with it in spite of knowing there's a chance that there would be hurt attached, than to not let myself be vulnerable to it in the first place. It is weird, but I can remember telling Mr. Favorite at one time that I knew someday Boomer would die and I was sad about it then. Now, here I am several years later sitting at my desk crying over that same dog... but despite that it sucks right now and that tears flow and block vision while I'm trying to type... I will take it... because I know that I can't live life avoiding hurt.

More Than Just a Good Idea.

Before Big was born, I read a photographer's article on showing time through photographs. One of the most precious examples was of a father and son's hands, the photos taken on each birthday, showing the progression. Of course, in the beginning the father's hands were large and appeared young, but as the son's hands grew into a man's hands, the father's showed aging and eventually it was the son's strong, younger hands that supported the father's aged hands. In just a few photos, a story was told. I decided I wanted to do that, too. On the day Big was born, I had Mr. Favorite put Big's hand on his - I was too out of it to realize it was WAY overexposed, but you can still see well enough. Then, just this last week, as Big turned one year old, we took the photo of Big's hand on Mr. Favorite's. I like that already there is a representation of relationship there. Do any of you have traditions big or small that you do each year to show time? I'm not above stealing your ideas.

The Big One.

Yesterday was Little One's big birthday number 1! We are so blessed to have a community of friends and family who love us and love Little One. We celebrated big - Mr. Favorite got to use his oh-so-cool grill and had his friend, we'll call him Mr. Earthy-Biz until I can think of something better (He's very in-the-know on organic foods, etc. and has an incredibly sharp mind for business.), was able to bring his matching grill over to help with the food. We had steaks and chicken, grilled corn-on-the-cob, squash, and potatoes. So, so good! For the sweet I had cupcakes.

Here's a note-to-self regarding the danger of cupcakes vs. cake: If you have a cake, you're not as tempted to partake of the sweet before the party. With cupcakes, who will know if you eat one? There's little to no evidence! I wouldn't even let myself un-tape the box the cupcakes came in until just before the party. They smelled SO good even through the cardboard of the box!
On with the story... We gave everyone a chance to eat and then let Little One have his first real taste of sugar. He was too funny - he kind of acted like he wasn't sure it was ok and was very hesitant at first. Didn't take him long, though, before the whole thing disappeared.
Mom & Joy Lin (I told them it looked like Mom was resisting!)
Joe's neice, CurlyQ. So cute!
What joy to have my home filled with people I love.
Layla (Spanish for Granny) was loving the cupcake time just as much as Little One!
By this time, Little One was through! He was so stinkin' tired!
And, he rarely just sits in a lap. This was a super tired Little One.
But, he must have gotten a second wind! He LOVED the balloons! (and, yes, this is the third wardrobe change! - a fourth to come)
This was too fun...
His face was too cute watching the balloons go. So sweet.
So, I think it may be appropriate now for Little One to be Big. He'll always be my sweet little boy, but as a mom, I know that he will only continue to grow and change. So, from here forward... (this is a little bit sad) Little One will be Big.

A Name for Little, Too.

This whole pregnancy, I've just been undone over not having a name for this precious life. On here, he is Little, Too because just like Little One, he is also little... Not sure what I'll do when the next little life comes along... Maybe Little Also. :) Just kidding... Anyway, Mr. Favorite and I've been thinking of a certain name for a while and it seems to be sticking. (Funny - Pandora is playing the song Name by the Goo Goo Dolls as I compose this blog post.) In fact, I've been calling him by this name for a week or so and even when I talk to Little One about his baby brother, I use that name. I'm pleased. It isn't a traditional name, but it isn't so weird that he'll be made fun of in elementary school (for that anyway). It's meaning is "church official" which is cool with me - given my bloodline and all. And his middle name will be my father's name. I am honored to use his name...

I'm still sad sometimes that I can't (or won't) use my brother's name. Mr. Favorite just happens to have a brother by the same name and I imagine having to explain to my baby that no, he's not named after that Joshua, but after my deceased brother - who was so great. Anyway... just another sad little spot in this journey of family.

The Sweet Life.

I'm glad to report that I've not been blogging for a good reason... I've actually been out doing fun stuff, but I took my little camera along for most of it, so here goes:

Date Night with the Boys...
Mr. Favorite and I both like going somewhere, doing something on Friday nights. It helps to make our weekends feel longer. So, last Friday night we took Little One out on our date night. Lots of fun to have him with us. He's such a good sport. We had dinner at Carrabba's - one of our faves - and then went to Kohl's because my little guy is growing like nobody's business and I can't seem to keep up with laundry fast enough for him to not grow out of something before I get it cleaned. I'm only kidding a little bit. It's crazy.
Then, we got to go to my very favorite of all time sno-cone place... Oh, goodness. It is a good thing it isn't convenient to go there. The guy who owns and runs the sno shack is obviously gifted for business. He probably is already, but if not, he's going to be very, very rich someday... and he's just a nice guy.
See me with my oh-so-happy-that-I-got-to-have-a-sno-cone face?
And, then, Saturday we went to my school's graduation - I say "my school" because not only did I spend from 4th grade through my own graduation there, but I also went back and taught for 4 years there before having Little One. Just before we found out that Little Too was on his way, Mr. 80'sRock asked me to consider teaching again next year. I was flattered frankly. It's nice to feel like I would be welcomed back. If you've ever wondered what someone thought of your job performance, I think being asked to come back would kind of answer that for you. :) Anyway, since Little Too will arrive in October, it isn't going to work this year. Oh, I guess I got sidetracked here - I'm just noticing that the pic below was supposed to remind me that I was going to mention that this fabulous chica was the only, yes only, girl in the graduating class at our school this year. I think there has got to be some kind of reward for putting up with those boys and still being a very sweet, very kind person at the end. Yea, Miss M!
Whew... we're about to get there folks... stay with me...

On Sunday, after Mr. Fave had to go work on football stuff, I decided to run out to Mom & Dad's just to have something to do. Dad took Little One out to "lock up" and just moments later I look out the window to see Dad driving the tractor. I just thought this was too fun... I love, love, love that Little One has my dad for a grandpa. These pictures represent to me just the beginning of the fun times they've got ahead of them. Makes me a little emotional thinking of just how loved my Little One and Too really are.
And, lastly... Yesterday was the season finale of 24. Our regulars were gathered, minus 2, and we just kept thinking that something was bound to happen... really, surely this can't be it... well, with just 4 minutes to go in the show, the DVR in the living room stopped. AUGH! My mom came to the rescue and was able to get to the last few minutes on the DVR in their bedroom... So, we all gathered in there, again, thinking surely SOMETHING would happen. No. No. No. It was one big dud. It felt like when I was in school and would realize I had written enough to satisfy the requirements of the assignment and I would just end it. It was that lame. So, so very lame. But here we are just before realizing just how lame it really was:

Mother's Day Weekend

So (do I start every one of my blog posts with, "So,"?) This was a fun weekend for me. In spite of my social issues, I made myself go to a long-time friend's graduation party. I'm such a weenie about going places where I don't know anyone, but this friend has repeatedly invited me over the years to different things and so I made myself go. I really am impressed with her for completing this goal. Yea, Mel! Ok... so for the part that feeds my social anxieties: I was the very first to show up at this stranger's (even if she did turn out to be very sweet) home. I stood on the porch for what seemed to be a very long time. I kept saying, "Hello?" in my most non-threatening voice I could manage, but still... nothing. After a while I could see someone in the backyard, but since I didn't know for sure I was at the right place or whose home this was, I couldn't just go in. I just stood there waiting until finally Mel's sister drove up. Yea for blog pics so that I would be sure to recognize Mel's sister. Anyway, it turned out to be a great time. I'm genuinely jealous of Mel and the friends with whom she's surrounded herself. They were all so warm and welcoming. How does one re-create that? Here's a pic of me and Mel - carefully cropped. :)

Now, after just a while at Mel's party, I left to go see my mom and some other friends complete the Full Moon Run. I told my mom that it always makes me feel emotional - like I'm fighting tears - because I'm so proud of her and frankly all these people who go out and run like this. Standing there, I kept thinking that I want to CHANGE so that Little One and Little Too grow up with a different attitude about being active and food. Yesterday's message at church was not about this at all, but you know sometimes God speaks into our hearts what we need to hear. I heard that what I model and display for my kids is what they're going to mimic. If I want children who are healthy, I'm going to have to display something entirely different. I feel like God says it isn't too late.
Here I am with Mom and Dad.
And, here I am with A. A is a dear friend who I count as sister.
And, here's the whole group. The lady in purple, standing next to my mom on the far left, just started running last week - actually only ran two times - and then ran this race. SO impressive to me. The hot blonde chick in white (center right) beat my pastor's race time, so it is ON. There was some talk about that info sneaking into the announcements yesterday at church. :)
And all that was just Saturday night!
Here begins my first Mothers Day morning (I love it that he has his little knees drawn up under him so that his bottom sticks up):
And the first thing that happens every morning - the sweetest moments of my day:
Then, Mr. Favorite came in the room and asked if I wanted my Mothers Day gift right then. Of course! It was so sweet. Mr. Favorite started a video of Little One in just his diaper sitting in our whirlpool tub. While I was gone to all my Saturday night activities, they had a big time creating something special for me. The video shows a blank canvas and then for the next 10 minutes, there's the sweetest little boy and four tubs of finger paint creating a Mothers Day gift. He ate only a little bit of the paint. :) Here's Little One with his creation:And a closer photo:
And lastly, crack me up if my mom didn't have a card for me that totally proved my last little post I Watch Entirely Too Much TV! The card has a little girl on the front who is wearing underwear on her head. The first line of my mom's note to me references the movie Raising Arizona when Nick Cage's character goes in a store to steal diapers and is using pantyhose on his head for a disguise. The man behind the counter says, "Son, you got a panty on your head." We thought this line was so stinkin' funny and it - believe it or not - actually does come up occasionally in conversation! I'm cracking up because I know my mom hasn't seen my post and here she's proven my point!

Family of Five (Almost Six).

Last Saturday in the midst of lots and lots of rain and chilly temps, we dared to face it all and have family photos taken. I've admired Amanda Donaho's work for years and was sad when she moved to the Cincinnati area last year... but as luck would have it, there are enough of us fans still around that when she had a trip scheduled back this direction, we made it on her list! I'm feeling very round and very pregnant, but she managed to make me - and the rest of my family - look pretty good. Here are just a few of my faves. If you happen to check out her site, be sure to go to her blog, too. There are more pics of us there.

I Watch Entirely Too Much TV.

In the 5th grade, I was happily singing theme songs from TV, when my teacher said to me, "You watch entirely too much TV." I thought it was funny and that line has stuck with me ever since. Even last Wednesday night at church, there was a point in which I found myself thinking "I watch entirely too much TV". From where I was standing, I could see a gentleman who was wearing shorts and flip-flops (I go to a great, very casual church) and all I could think about was the recent episode of The Office in which Angela was grossed out by Oscar wearing sandals to work on casual Friday. I'm pretty sure I should have put forth more effort to concentrate on something else, but it was amusing to me, so I didn't really try.

Turns out my mom also watches entirely too much TV. We have over the years accumulated one-liners from movies, shows, etc. that lend much humor to our daily journey. For instance, at a place and time when I should have been much more reverent, I noticed that someone who was standing suddenly wasn't. And, instead of immediate concern, all I could think of was how funny it would be to text my mom "We have a piper down" from the movie So I Married An Axe Murderer. (I went to YouTube to put the clip here, but there's all sorts of stuff in the clip that I forgot and well, isn't suitable for my audience - just saying.) There's also the line, "A date?! Is she pretty? Is she prettier than me?!" from a program we saw when I was maybe 8 or 9 years old. That show also had a line "Is that a big enough piece of cake or what?!" which we use frequently and interchange "cake" with whatever we find to be much too large for the current situation (hair - especially bangs, etc.) Just one more - In a stand-up comedienne's monologue she talks about staying at a hotel where after requesting shampoo from the front desk, the staff member showed up at her door with handfuls of lotion and explained, "We're out of shampoo." The comedienne says, "Can't you see that no matter how many lotions you bring to me, they're still not shampoo" and later when she's out with friends, and they're commenting on how yucky her hair is, she responds, "But, feel my hands!" So, we use this one a lot too when we've asked for one specific thing and whoever was supposed to get it ended up with something else. . . .

What I'm saying is that this trouble-ticket my 5th grade teacher tried to file turns out to be one of my favorite aspects - and frankly a very entertaining part - of my relationship with my mom.

So, Happy Mother's Day. I hope you have something funny to share with your mom, too.

Easter Rides Again.

So, most of you were good bloggers and have already blogged about your Easter. Well, that didn't quite make it to my list of things to do yesterday, so here it is today.

Lunch went well. (A couple photos to prove it):I made brown sugar, honey ham steaks (so good), green bean bundles, and two kinds of potatoes. JL brought yummy rolls, and Mom brought green bean casserole and peach cobbler. There are things I'll do differently next year (do you hear that I'll actually do it again?!), but it was great overall. I'm all of 32 years old now, so I guess it is ok if I have grown-up things under my belt at this point, but I still have to conquer my fear of sucking at cooking. Funny thing is that even my dad - actually he was the very first to comment on how good the ham was. He just doesn't do that... Here are a few more pics. Little One was so stinkin' cute that day. Such a delight.And one more... (And, by the way... I made this new springy background all by myself in Photoshop. Certainly not what I should be spending time on, but fun, nonetheless!)

Seventeen Years.

Tomorrow marks the 17th anniversary of my brother, Joshua's death. Some years it hasn't bothered me much and some years it has. This year is on the line. I think the reason is not so much that I miss the little brother that I had, but I miss the brother that never got to grow up - that never got to be Little One's uncle - that never got to get married and have babies of his own so that I could be the best aunt ever. It's the now that I miss him in the most. I don't hurt over the loss of the 11 - and just days shy of 12 - year-old-boy. I miss the man that he would have been. I hate that Mr. Favorite never got to know him. I'm certain they would have enjoyed being friends.

Josh was SO good at being friends with everyone. I remember hearing that one of the boys that Josh had befriended in the last couple years of his life once said that Josh was his best friend. And years later when that (by that time) young man was asked if he was Josh's best friend, he said no - that Josh had other best friends, but to that little boy, Josh was his best friend.

Josh was a good little brother and I was too cool to be nice to him (I was 15 when he died.), but God gave me a gift just a week or two before he died. We were at church and I passed him in the hallway (there by the nursery for those of you who know my church) and he was, as always, his happy little self. I remember just stopping and telling him that I loved him. He looked at me, smiled, and said I love you, too. If I had not had that moment, I'm sure I would have been overcome with feelings of guilt about the ornery things sisters do and say. So, thank you, Lord, for that moment in the hallway where you gave me the chance to say what I needed to say before he was gone.

It's been a long time since I've cried about Josh... but just as I write, I'm feeling the awareness of loss again - throat swelling, tears burning my cheeks - and am grateful for a life full of feeling - that I'm not numb to the great gifts I've lived to experience.

Now, Josh wasn't a perfect kid... but seventeen years later I can't remember why.