- Eating some of our fresh produce from our first CSA delivery! Love, love, love it. It may be a little more expensive than buying the cheap stuff at the grocery, but not much. And it's all organic and local. And it means we have a bounty of fresh veges each week that we must eat or freeze because we can't waste such goodness! Worth it.
- Date Night! The Man and I are going out for dinner and a movie tonight. Watch me swoon :). Though we've gone out to dinner occasionally (very occasionally), I can't remember the last time the two of us went to a movie by ourselves. And we're going to see Bridesmaids. I also can't remember the last time I was so excited about seeing a particular movie! The Man, now, he's excited about much different movies all the time (Thor, Pirates, Transformers, etc.), but for once our interest converges. It's a good, good day :).
- And to top it all off, tomorrow my Beautiful Friend L is coming from Chicago!!! I feel I am using too many exclamation points in this post, but really, right now they perfectly express the giddiness I feel. My sweet sister-in-law is also putting in a visit this weekend. It's a wonderful, magnificent storm of a weekend!
Friday, May 20, 2011
friday food for the soul
A few things bright for this day:
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
small projects
This past week there's been a flurry of activity at our house. Nothing major, just little things as I try to do a little spring cleaning and get back into the swing of planning small projects for the house and with my kiddoes. When I'm in my still phase, activity seems overwhelming and burdensome. Ironically, though, it's often forcing myself back into the activity that lifts my spirits. Creating something lovely, small though it may be, is healing, I find.
The kids did a little watercolor and salt painting yesterday. Easy-peasy, but the result is quite striking. It's just liquid watercolor paints (we get ours from Discount School Supply) on thick watercolor paper. Then sprinkle some salt on top when the painting is done but still wet. In a few minutes, the salt produces a crystal-like effect in the watercolor. The pictures don't do it justice...
Cool! When the paintings were dry, I brushed off the loose salt because I think I may cut them into postcards for our next project...
A Letter-Writing Kit! I've had this idea in the back of my mind for a while now but never got it together until yesterday after reading a Simple Kids post on making one. Some of the online tutorials for letter-writing kits involve either materials I don't have or a lot of sewing. This one, though, is simple - just a folder of stuff. And I happened to have a folder that is perfect! I'm working on getting together all the supplies for it, but we've already got the basics, and The Girl is psyched about it. Let's hope we can keep up the enthusiasm and actually use it on a regular basis. I'm not good at snail mail myself, so this is as much for me as for the kiddoes. I'm thinking of instituting Mail Mondays, or some other such gimmick, as a reminder to us all.
I've also done some home hackery things. And I do mean hackery. I read about home sew-ers who do it "for the detailing," but I have no patience for such things. I want to do it and be done with it! And I'm also such a beginner sewer that it still takes me 4 times as long (at least) as any tutorial says it should take. So this week I sewed a simple bookcase curtain to hide the mess on our dining room bookcase (library books, cookbooks, tea set stuff, random miscellania). It's one of those 20 minute projects that took me 2 hours. But it's done! And the fabric is an old tablecloth that we never used. I am queen of the re-purposing.
I also sewed a curtain for the doorway into our playroom (which sometimes doubles as a guest room). I used a sheet I already had (see - queen). But I'm not sold on it. The color is wrong for the space, so I may be home hacking something else. Sometimes I'd like to just go out and buy pretty fabric, but the re-purposing is a worthy challenge.
I have some plans for a few other projects: curtains (more curtains!) for our master bedroom, hanging curtains in The Girl's room (that I've had for months and months), framing some art (kid art) for the playroom, more bubble painting (I think The Boy is old enough to join in this time), a number of clothing-hackery projects. We'll see how much I actually get done (before I am distracted by other project ideas)!
The kids did a little watercolor and salt painting yesterday. Easy-peasy, but the result is quite striking. It's just liquid watercolor paints (we get ours from Discount School Supply) on thick watercolor paper. Then sprinkle some salt on top when the painting is done but still wet. In a few minutes, the salt produces a crystal-like effect in the watercolor. The pictures don't do it justice...
Cool! When the paintings were dry, I brushed off the loose salt because I think I may cut them into postcards for our next project...
A Letter-Writing Kit! I've had this idea in the back of my mind for a while now but never got it together until yesterday after reading a Simple Kids post on making one. Some of the online tutorials for letter-writing kits involve either materials I don't have or a lot of sewing. This one, though, is simple - just a folder of stuff. And I happened to have a folder that is perfect! I'm working on getting together all the supplies for it, but we've already got the basics, and The Girl is psyched about it. Let's hope we can keep up the enthusiasm and actually use it on a regular basis. I'm not good at snail mail myself, so this is as much for me as for the kiddoes. I'm thinking of instituting Mail Mondays, or some other such gimmick, as a reminder to us all.
I've also done some home hackery things. And I do mean hackery. I read about home sew-ers who do it "for the detailing," but I have no patience for such things. I want to do it and be done with it! And I'm also such a beginner sewer that it still takes me 4 times as long (at least) as any tutorial says it should take. So this week I sewed a simple bookcase curtain to hide the mess on our dining room bookcase (library books, cookbooks, tea set stuff, random miscellania). It's one of those 20 minute projects that took me 2 hours. But it's done! And the fabric is an old tablecloth that we never used. I am queen of the re-purposing.
I also sewed a curtain for the doorway into our playroom (which sometimes doubles as a guest room). I used a sheet I already had (see - queen). But I'm not sold on it. The color is wrong for the space, so I may be home hacking something else. Sometimes I'd like to just go out and buy pretty fabric, but the re-purposing is a worthy challenge.
I have some plans for a few other projects: curtains (more curtains!) for our master bedroom, hanging curtains in The Girl's room (that I've had for months and months), framing some art (kid art) for the playroom, more bubble painting (I think The Boy is old enough to join in this time), a number of clothing-hackery projects. We'll see how much I actually get done (before I am distracted by other project ideas)!
Friday, May 13, 2011
with my girl
My Girl and I sometimes struggle to hear each other. We’re so very different. I have to remind myself constantly that she is young, that I don’t need to correct her personality (just sometimes her manners!), that she experiences the world differently than I do. I have to try hard to understand, harder than I imagined in my hazy pre-child days of envisioning parenthood.
And so one of my goals in parenting this strong-willed, sometimes overwhelmed, throw-yourself-into-life kind of girl is that I need to be proactive in sharing moments with her. Not every moment. Just some. It’s important that we make memories together and share joy together. It's important that we talk to each other...and listen. It’s important that sometimes we just have fun together. And it’s important that I let her be who she is.
Some moments are silly: Mommy Me skirts for Mother’s Day. We went to the fabric store together and I let her pick out any one cotton fabric she wanted. Any. I knew this was dangerous to my conservative dressing sensibility, but she was so very excited by it! And of course she picked out one of the brightest, craziest prints available (bright orange, hot pink, aqua…paisley, flowers, birds…oh my!). But it made into such a fabulous skirt for her. And yes, for me, too. Sometimes My Girl is the one to teach me.
Some moments are artsy: We did shaving cream marbling prints this week, using Artful Parent’s instructions. We’ve done this before to create small wrapping paper, but this time we used cardstock and made cards. The boy did one, too, and they turned out great!
Some moments are quiet: Reading books, for instance. We need to do more of this, at times other than just right before bed, when she’s usually reading with her Daddy, not me. Kimberlee Conway Ireton posted some book recommendations recently, and I’m excited to check some of them out. I’ve already requested a couple from the library.
Some moments are active: Throwing softballs in the yard; going to the park; walking/biking in the neighborhood. Nothing major, but using-our-bodies fun.
And lots of moments are me reveling in the things she does on her own: Focusing (focusing!!!) in the softball field and getting an out at third. Creating the most amazing 3D art – art I certainly never taught her. Learning her part for her play all by herself…and killing it! And always, always joyfully joining in others’ fun.
She’s a great, amazing girl. I hope she hears me say that enough.
And so one of my goals in parenting this strong-willed, sometimes overwhelmed, throw-yourself-into-life kind of girl is that I need to be proactive in sharing moments with her. Not every moment. Just some. It’s important that we make memories together and share joy together. It's important that we talk to each other...and listen. It’s important that sometimes we just have fun together. And it’s important that I let her be who she is.
Some moments are artsy: We did shaving cream marbling prints this week, using Artful Parent’s instructions. We’ve done this before to create small wrapping paper, but this time we used cardstock and made cards. The boy did one, too, and they turned out great!
Some moments are quiet: Reading books, for instance. We need to do more of this, at times other than just right before bed, when she’s usually reading with her Daddy, not me. Kimberlee Conway Ireton posted some book recommendations recently, and I’m excited to check some of them out. I’ve already requested a couple from the library.
Some moments are active: Throwing softballs in the yard; going to the park; walking/biking in the neighborhood. Nothing major, but using-our-bodies fun.
She’s a great, amazing girl. I hope she hears me say that enough.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
when easter seems far away
A couple of you may have noticed that I suddenly stopped blogging about a month ago, in the middle of Lent. This was partly because life got in the way (2 last-minute out-of-town not-for-fun trips, spring break), and partly because I lost my voice. My writing voice. My inner voice. I felt a bit like I was losing my soul.
Which sounds horribly dramatic. It wasn't.
No particular event precipitated my crumbling. I suppose it was the trip to Durham which began the descent. Not the trip itself (which was good), but the coming home that didn't feel like coming home. This feeling is nothing unusual in my world, so I can't blame Durham, but that was the beginning. Or rather, that was the point at which I noticed. There is no beginning.
I recently read this Momastery post about what it's like to have mental illness (it's actually a follow-up post to this one; read them both). I make no claims to having mental illness like Momastery experiences, but I recognize the inborn feeling of "otherness" she describes. Sometimes I feel like I walk through life a little out-of-sync with the world around me. Like everyone copes with life better than me. Only my unhealthy coping mechanism is not bulimia or cutting or drugs. Mine is drawing inward. Becoming still. Too still.
But that stillness is just a mask for the churning inside. A churning that sometimes seems to burn away my margins, leaving me feeling brittle and raw. It's a churning that ebbs and flows, not a constant. And it's not something that leaves me unable to function, though I'm sure it makes me harder to live with! But when the churning becomes a roar, it's hard for me to hear the small voice of hope and faith that still resides within. It's still there, unconsumed but overwhelmed.
I won't go into details about the inner drama in this public space. I'll just say that the churning has subsided somewhat for now, and I am working on some steps to keep it at bay. But as my main goal for this space is a record for my children, I want to write this to them:
I hope and pray that you do not inherit my out-of-sync-ness, but if you do, please know that you are not alone. And though life may sometimes seem harder than it should be for no good reason, the brightness may also be brighter. Please ask for help when you need it. Talk to someone, even when you're not sure you have the words. Hold onto hope and life's gifts one day at a time. And most of all, know that you are loved, oh-so-much, just as you are.
Which sounds horribly dramatic. It wasn't.
No particular event precipitated my crumbling. I suppose it was the trip to Durham which began the descent. Not the trip itself (which was good), but the coming home that didn't feel like coming home. This feeling is nothing unusual in my world, so I can't blame Durham, but that was the beginning. Or rather, that was the point at which I noticed. There is no beginning.
I recently read this Momastery post about what it's like to have mental illness (it's actually a follow-up post to this one; read them both). I make no claims to having mental illness like Momastery experiences, but I recognize the inborn feeling of "otherness" she describes. Sometimes I feel like I walk through life a little out-of-sync with the world around me. Like everyone copes with life better than me. Only my unhealthy coping mechanism is not bulimia or cutting or drugs. Mine is drawing inward. Becoming still. Too still.
But that stillness is just a mask for the churning inside. A churning that sometimes seems to burn away my margins, leaving me feeling brittle and raw. It's a churning that ebbs and flows, not a constant. And it's not something that leaves me unable to function, though I'm sure it makes me harder to live with! But when the churning becomes a roar, it's hard for me to hear the small voice of hope and faith that still resides within. It's still there, unconsumed but overwhelmed.
I won't go into details about the inner drama in this public space. I'll just say that the churning has subsided somewhat for now, and I am working on some steps to keep it at bay. But as my main goal for this space is a record for my children, I want to write this to them:
I hope and pray that you do not inherit my out-of-sync-ness, but if you do, please know that you are not alone. And though life may sometimes seem harder than it should be for no good reason, the brightness may also be brighter. Please ask for help when you need it. Talk to someone, even when you're not sure you have the words. Hold onto hope and life's gifts one day at a time. And most of all, know that you are loved, oh-so-much, just as you are.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
mother's day
These are the words I spoke at our church last year, 2010, on Mother's Day:
For many years now, I’ve had a love-hate relationship with Mother’s Day.
I love it because I have an amazing mother who has always loved me unconditionally and who is a great model for me of a Woman of God so it’s wonderful for me to celebrate my own mother and the amazing influence she has had.
It’s wonderful for me, But I know that’s not true for everyone.
I love Mother’s Day because I have 2 beautiful kids and it’s wonderful for me to celebrate the great gift that motherhood is.
It’s wonderful for me, But I know that’s not true for everyone.
6 ½ years ago I was sitting in a sanctuary very similar to this one during a different holiday season. It was the second week of Advent and the worship focus for that day was Hope. Now Hope sounds like a strong, life-affirming, positive word. It’s a word to hold onto in good times and in bad. But it can also be a very difficult word, and on that day in that sanctuary, I really, really wanted to let go of hope. It seemed almost cruel.
A few months before I had been told it would be difficult if not impossible for us to have biological children. I had started taking medicine to help, but it was only the first step in a multi-step medical process, and on top of that, the medicine wasn’t working. And I knew if that medicine didn’t work then I would never be pregnant. And I was devastated. And here we were talking about hope. I hoped and hoped and hoped, but really I just wanted to know – would it work or not, because it was too painful to hope. I remember nothing about that worship service except that I sat in that sanctuary and cried.
A week later the theme for the worship service was joy, which felt kind of like a slap in the face even though I knew that joy is something deeper than circumstantial, and ultimately a beautiful promise from God. But at that moment in time, I was exhausted and joy was hard for me to see.... Until that Saturday, when I found out, miraculously, against-all-odds, I was pregnant. And in that moment, I knew pure, amazing, wonderful joy. And I cried a different kind of tears. And I am grateful every day for that beautiful gift.
But, of course, that perfect, unadulterated joy didn’t last. Almost as soon as I found out I was pregnant, new worries started. This might be my only pregnancy, would I be able to keep the baby or would I miscarry? Would I eat the right things, exercise the right way, be the right mother? Was I possibly up to the task of birthing new life? And, of course, I wasn’t. Not really.
My beautiful baby girl was perfect, but she also had medical problems and spent the first year of her life in a cast or brace. Then there were developmental issues and therapists. And I was overwhelmed and I worried. But I also laughed and I celebrated with each new step. And so I struggled with motherhood - this great gift and this great responsibility. Still do. Every day. I love being a mother, but it’s not a Hallmark, flowers and candy kind of love.
So what do I do with Mother’s Day? Because I also know that while I got my miracle, 2 of them, many others don’t get that same miracle. And others choose not be mothers, and others have difficult relationships with their own mothers. And for those women and men, Mother’s Day can be a trial. I remember what it was to hate coming to church on Mother’s Day. And so what do we do with Mother’s Day?
Well, motherhood in Scripture isn’t a Hallmark, flowers and candy kind of thing either. So many of the stories of mothers in the Bible are as much about struggle as they are about joy. Beginning with Eve, all the way through Mary, the stories of mothers are often heart-breaking. Mothers who struggled with infertility, mothers who died giving birth, mothers whose children did horrible things, mothers whose children died in horrible ways.
But motherhood in Scripture is also an amazing honor. What a great gift God has given us to give birth to new life. It’s the gift to follow in God’s footsteps, our first Mother, who gave birth to us all. It’s the gift to mold and shape new life. We do it imperfectly, for sure, but we do it with both love and trial, joy and pain. And then we let that new life go, just as God let us go, not abandoning us, but setting us free with love and support and hope.
Since becoming a mother, I often think, well, this isn’t quite what I expected. It makes me wonder how often God thinks that about us. Well, Susan, that’s not the choice I would’ve made for you. Well, Susan, you’re quite a lot of trouble sometimes. But Susan, you are beautiful and worth every bit of trouble. Because birthing new life is beautiful. We see that beauty is these gorgeous babies and children before us. But we also see that beauty in the birth of new ideas, new love, new work, new relationships, new community, new challenges, new life all around us. Whether we are biological mothers or not, we can all be involved in bearing new life and love for our world. Jesus, after all, was never a parent. And yet he brought amazing life to us all. A life of love, generosity, beauty, and joy. And a life of struggle. He, above all, showed us that God’s abundant life is worth the struggle and the pain.
And so today, on Mother’s Day, I want to honor all of you who birth new life, in many and varied ways. I thank all of you who bear the pain and the determination and the discipline of delivering abundant life to our world. And I celebrate with all of you the beauty of new life. Happy Mother’s Day.
For many years now, I’ve had a love-hate relationship with Mother’s Day.
I love it because I have an amazing mother who has always loved me unconditionally and who is a great model for me of a Woman of God so it’s wonderful for me to celebrate my own mother and the amazing influence she has had.
It’s wonderful for me, But I know that’s not true for everyone.
I love Mother’s Day because I have 2 beautiful kids and it’s wonderful for me to celebrate the great gift that motherhood is.
It’s wonderful for me, But I know that’s not true for everyone.
6 ½ years ago I was sitting in a sanctuary very similar to this one during a different holiday season. It was the second week of Advent and the worship focus for that day was Hope. Now Hope sounds like a strong, life-affirming, positive word. It’s a word to hold onto in good times and in bad. But it can also be a very difficult word, and on that day in that sanctuary, I really, really wanted to let go of hope. It seemed almost cruel.
A few months before I had been told it would be difficult if not impossible for us to have biological children. I had started taking medicine to help, but it was only the first step in a multi-step medical process, and on top of that, the medicine wasn’t working. And I knew if that medicine didn’t work then I would never be pregnant. And I was devastated. And here we were talking about hope. I hoped and hoped and hoped, but really I just wanted to know – would it work or not, because it was too painful to hope. I remember nothing about that worship service except that I sat in that sanctuary and cried.
A week later the theme for the worship service was joy, which felt kind of like a slap in the face even though I knew that joy is something deeper than circumstantial, and ultimately a beautiful promise from God. But at that moment in time, I was exhausted and joy was hard for me to see.... Until that Saturday, when I found out, miraculously, against-all-odds, I was pregnant. And in that moment, I knew pure, amazing, wonderful joy. And I cried a different kind of tears. And I am grateful every day for that beautiful gift.
But, of course, that perfect, unadulterated joy didn’t last. Almost as soon as I found out I was pregnant, new worries started. This might be my only pregnancy, would I be able to keep the baby or would I miscarry? Would I eat the right things, exercise the right way, be the right mother? Was I possibly up to the task of birthing new life? And, of course, I wasn’t. Not really.
My beautiful baby girl was perfect, but she also had medical problems and spent the first year of her life in a cast or brace. Then there were developmental issues and therapists. And I was overwhelmed and I worried. But I also laughed and I celebrated with each new step. And so I struggled with motherhood - this great gift and this great responsibility. Still do. Every day. I love being a mother, but it’s not a Hallmark, flowers and candy kind of love.
So what do I do with Mother’s Day? Because I also know that while I got my miracle, 2 of them, many others don’t get that same miracle. And others choose not be mothers, and others have difficult relationships with their own mothers. And for those women and men, Mother’s Day can be a trial. I remember what it was to hate coming to church on Mother’s Day. And so what do we do with Mother’s Day?
Well, motherhood in Scripture isn’t a Hallmark, flowers and candy kind of thing either. So many of the stories of mothers in the Bible are as much about struggle as they are about joy. Beginning with Eve, all the way through Mary, the stories of mothers are often heart-breaking. Mothers who struggled with infertility, mothers who died giving birth, mothers whose children did horrible things, mothers whose children died in horrible ways.
But motherhood in Scripture is also an amazing honor. What a great gift God has given us to give birth to new life. It’s the gift to follow in God’s footsteps, our first Mother, who gave birth to us all. It’s the gift to mold and shape new life. We do it imperfectly, for sure, but we do it with both love and trial, joy and pain. And then we let that new life go, just as God let us go, not abandoning us, but setting us free with love and support and hope.
Since becoming a mother, I often think, well, this isn’t quite what I expected. It makes me wonder how often God thinks that about us. Well, Susan, that’s not the choice I would’ve made for you. Well, Susan, you’re quite a lot of trouble sometimes. But Susan, you are beautiful and worth every bit of trouble. Because birthing new life is beautiful. We see that beauty is these gorgeous babies and children before us. But we also see that beauty in the birth of new ideas, new love, new work, new relationships, new community, new challenges, new life all around us. Whether we are biological mothers or not, we can all be involved in bearing new life and love for our world. Jesus, after all, was never a parent. And yet he brought amazing life to us all. A life of love, generosity, beauty, and joy. And a life of struggle. He, above all, showed us that God’s abundant life is worth the struggle and the pain.
And so today, on Mother’s Day, I want to honor all of you who birth new life, in many and varied ways. I thank all of you who bear the pain and the determination and the discipline of delivering abundant life to our world. And I celebrate with all of you the beauty of new life. Happy Mother’s Day.
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