janeycakes: growing a life

pictures from my desktop

2011-11-16T09:49:00.000-08:00

alone

2011-05-30T11:06:00.000-07:00

The man that I shall remain married to for at least another day has taken our children to the park

--this greatly improved the odds.

I am alone.

not just alone--but alone in my bedroom/cave/haven.

It really is the little things.

Yes, the littlest one still sleeps in our room. Although, she is now sleeping in her own bed.

This occurance solidified my faith in a higher power.

What I can say about our second child:

thank God she wasn't the first

also

she may be the sweetest thing the world has ever known

her thighs are becoming pure baby-squish

she is such a happy goof-noodle

the love she shares with Asher is a gift to witness

she is adored.

Seven Months

2011-04-07T09:34:00.000-07:00

She's saving me, I don't even think she knows it.

escape

2011-03-22T21:39:00.000-07:00

It has been a rough few days. It has been raining for forever and we've all been sick and haven't left the house in at least three. This afternoon the sun was shining just enough and the coughing had stopped just enough to warrant a trip outside. While our home is crazy California small, we are really fortunate to live just off a greenbelt and have five parks all within 10 minute walks. So we went for an adventure and I took a few pics before the camera function on my phone called in sick too. (ha! wasn't that a funny play on words? the phone called in sick? i know, just love me anyway.) I am in serious love with the last picture of my boy and the snot dripping out of Amelie's nose. I actually got a better one of the snot, but I look like death and am vain enough not to post it--this picture app thingy is really only meant to capture the skin of babes.

everyday encounters

2011-03-21T11:52:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite things of the past couple of years has been rediscovering the gift of "children's books." Maybe I am simple (I am)--but I find them to be profound. and I do believe that anything profound isn't really profound unless it is also accessible. so I love "children's books." I keep putting that phrase in quotes because I suppose that the targeted market is children, but there really isn't a niche for encountering truth (Truth).
And while we do take our children to church I am not sure that there can be a firm grasp of what is being taught as experience proceeds understanding. So we do and will continue to expose them to our church and belief system--but the gospel that I read to them at night comes in the form of simple stories. Stories that tell of faithfulness and a love that never ends. I think they're best read while being hugged and squished--these are accessible things.

Pete & Pickles

This gem, which Bill intends to focus a sermon around, came into our lives late last year. My method for getting books at the library is to a) judge a book by it's cover and b) look for lots of good pictures with few words. It tends to work most of the time. We came home just before naptime and had time to read one of our finds. I opened it up and found myself laughing (yes, out loud) and then at the end I could only speak in a whisper because the tears in my throat took up too much space for sound. I love this book. "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends."--John 15:13

I Promise I'll Find You

I actually try not to think about missing children (as that is who the book is dedicated to) when I read it or I would never be able to read it. Make sense? The thought kills me. But I do try and think of how strong my love is for my children. How strongly we are loved. Parable of the lost sheep--Luke 15.

Wherever You Are: my love will find you

It does contain a touch of the cheese, but whatevs. A bit of Hallmark never hurt anyone. "neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."--Romans 8:39

The Runaway Bunny

"Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there..."--Psalm 139:7-8

and so it is.

light & love

2011-03-14T21:49:00.000-07:00

recent favorites taken with the phone.

healing

2011-03-14T21:19:00.000-07:00

Asher pooped in his room again today. As soon as I came home from work both Asher and Bill commenced to tell me of the event, how the carpet had to be cleaned, that Asher was in trouble and Mommy and Daddy were not to play with him. (A punishment for whom I wondered?) His innocent acceptance struck raw nerves and I had to hold back tears. I snuck into his room after a storyless bedtime. A chance to offer words my own hurting heart needed to hear.

“It will be okay. We all make mistakes. You get to try again tomorrow. I love you always.”

To which he replied, “Mommy, say it louder, I can’t hear you. Can you snuggle me?”

oh yes love, that says it best.

Call

2011-03-10T07:14:00.000-08:00

I love me some Henri Nouwen. Who doesn't? This morning I read out of his devotional "Bread for tte Journey" and he talks about how overwhelming it is to consider all the death and wars and injustices happening all around us. How powerless and futile our own lives seem in comparison. and then...
We are not called to save the world, solve all problems, and help all people. But each of us has our own unique call...We have to keep asking God to help us see clearly what our call is and to give us the strenght to live out that call with trust. Then we will discover that our faithfulness to a small task is the most healing response to the illnesses of our time.
Tru dat Henri.
So now what?
And did you know it is Lent AGAIN? I've barely posted since last Lent. fyi: babies are draining.
Anyway, so call and Lent that has shown up again and an early morning with a cup of coffee and my cat and that is all i can think of. Every year when Lent comes/ spring begins I realize that life still exists. I don't know how I can continue to be surprised by the magic in these things. but I also love me some magic. Who doesn't?
oh, it is so on.

Project Life, wk 1

2011-01-09T17:56:00.000-08:00

If you look to your right you'll see an "I <3 Project Life" button. Becky Higgins created an easy (and gorgeous) way to journal a year in the life. Basically we take a picture a day--which to be honest we pretty much already did. Except now, instead of just keeping them on the computer, we print them and put them in an album and jot a couple lines of journaling. Can you imagine if you had one of these from when you were little? Bill and I are already oohing and aahing over how freaking cool it is. Here are the pictures we chose from this week.

Sunday--Bill & Asher helped out at the Interfaith Rotating Winter Shelter . The cots are for the guests to sleep on.

Monday--Amelie and I were getting ready for bed. She still sleeps in our bed. Actually, she still sleeps in my arms. all. night. long. I've tried everything. seriously. The pediatrician says we can't attempt "cry it out" till the girl is at least six months old and that is all she says about the situation. :) I'm tired.

Tuesday--Bill works late on Tuesdays and Wednesdays and the deal is that as soon as he comes home he has to go in and kiss Asher goodnight. Sometimes he wakes up, sometimes he doesn't--but it is the ritual.

Wednesday--I had taken other pictures for this day, but then Little Miss FINALLY rolled over. Asher rolled over on his three month bday--but he also consented to being out of my arms.... :) Amelie managed to roll over in a fit of anger from being set down. Her little body tensed up and bloop! She still hasn't done it while happy.

Thrusday--okay, it's gross. But it's real life. Asher got sick :( and was sick the whole night. double :( It broke my heart to pieces because I had to let Bill do all the caregiving as the pediatrician said we had to do everything we could to keep Amelie from getting sick (she's been underweight and it would have been a not good situation for her). So he and I split up and he didn't touch Amelie all night and I didn't touch Asher. All I wanted was to hold him.

Friday--Happy Birthday phone call to my mom.

Saturday--Pirate!

Although, later Saturday night I took this one.

it's my favorite--you can see the kindness in Bill's eyes--my favorite part (well, one of my favorite parts) of him. A couple other favorites.

housekeeping

2011-01-06T09:51:00.000-08:00

revisiting my blog I discovered a previously unpublished post. ~~sometimes~~ I over think way too much.

True Dat part deux

2011-01-06T09:09:00.000-08:00

I wrote the following last night, but then Blogger was being goofy and I couldn't post.

I've been thinking all day since my earlier post about how I said I had sooooo much I could write on the subject of body acceptance. And then didn't. An easy out is to say that I really didn't have the time to sit and string words together. But, perhaps if I went just a smidgen deeper I'd admit that it is so vast and personal that it feels like an insurmountable topic. One that I am sorting through day by day.

Most of the time these days when I write (no matter where the page happens to be) I do it with one audience in mind. My children. My (hopefully) children's children. What do I want them to know? about me, the way I think, my struggles, my beliefs....

And while I do not doubt that Asher will someday struggle with self-acceptance of some kind or another, it does seem like the topic of body acceptance tends to be a special treat for the female psyche. I choose to tackle this ongoing challenge in my life because it is my hope that I don't pass it on to Amelie.

About four and a half years ago I made the monumental decision to say "yes" to life. In order to do that I had to get really honest about who I was and how I was living. If I had to sum up four and a half years in a nut shell I'd say that I cut out all the bull____. Or at least most of it has been examined and removed. I now live in reality. That probably doesn't sound like a big deal--to say that I live in reality sounds like nothing. Everyone thinks they do. If you had asked me if I lived in reality in August of 2006 I would have looked at you like you were crazy and said "of course." But that's because I lied to myself. Dishonesty is a sneaky beast. Anyway, for what it's worth, I now live in reality and living in reality is so much easier and is basically the only reason I am able to stay committed to the "yes" part of living. Part of the ongoing process of staying in reality is to not make myself out to be anymore or any less than I am. I'm no longer special. :) I'm special to Bill and a handful of others, but in the grand scheme of the whole universe--no, I'm not special. Realizing this is a relief. If I'm not special than I'm allowed to be human and normal and make mistakes and not be perfect. Thank God.

The more I peeled down the layers of this concept the more I had to examine the relationship I had with my body. How much I hated not being able to permanently control the way it looked. I had moments--sometimes long moments--when the control was mine and in those moments I (still) felt scared and out of control and incomplete. It was a tortuous cycle. Being fat, being thin, being always on my way up or down the scale and hoping that it was down and not up and on and on and on...I could think about it all day long. I did. The messages I received around me supported the obsession. If you've ever been even slightly fluffy and lost a few pounds--good God, it's like you've reinvented the wheel. It sucks.

Wow, this is turning into more than I was prepared to tackle. I'm supposed to be making birthday party invitations because someone I live with has the audacity to turn three next week. I need to let it stir inside a bit longer to see where all this is going. There will be a trois.

True Dat

2011-01-05T13:47:00.000-08:00

There is much (soooo much) I could write on this subject, but am grateful to C. Jane and Janna Dean for getting the public self-love party started. My favorite line? "I remember a time when I battled my own body (its weight, its shape, its size, etc.) as if I could win self acceptance by rejecting my own self." Yeah, that'll be enough of that thank you. One thing that has truly helped is to be aware of when I am judging someone else on their appearance. I've come to realize that the less I allow myself to do this (or if done, quickly correct my thought process) that the more it carries over into self acceptance. oh, and another thing is I remind myself that what someone else thinks of me is none of my business.

I think he's trying to kill me

2011-01-03T20:59:00.000-08:00

These pictures are of Asher taken three years apart.

2007

2010

Did you see that? Three years ago, he was refusing to evacuate my womb and now he is sitting over with the big kids holding his own candle. I don't understand how these things happen.

Inspired

2011-01-02T21:02:00.000-08:00

I am over and done with resolutions--I chose to leave them alone a few years back. I think they encourage elation and burnout and I choose instead to try more often than not to take the middle road (ha-ha to that says the newest member of our family). But. BUT, I do really like the idea of having a general theme or idea to accompany the year. A word can be attached to so many ideas and liken itself to different approaches. After tossing around several ideas ("transpired" was rejected because it seemed to say that something was wrong with the present. while there are some changes I welcome I think I'm generally living a pretty great life. similarly with "reinvent". "Empowered" sounded good at first, but I already feel that way so it didn't excite me.) I wanted a word that celebrates who I already am but brings in a bit more life. I'm thinking "inspired" has the right connotation. Some synonyms are: energized, motivated, take responsibility for, moved by supernatural powers (? well okay). So inspired it is.

To start off I chopped off about four years worth of hair. I had gotten in cut like maybe six times in the last four years and it was the longest it has ever been in my life. I had loved simplicity of wearing it up in a bun and it felt like the right fit for my self-identity (granola-ish momma). Well, all good things must come to an end. I used to change my hairstyle all the time. Like allllllll the time. So, settling into one hairstyle was a nice change. But then, it started to feel like I was being suffocated by it--by the identity I had attached to it. I still am a granola-ish momma--but I'm a lot more too. After it all started to fall out in massive clumps (thanks hormones!) I knew it needed to come off asap--and definitely before the new year. I made the appointment for 12/31 and bam! done. Right now every time I look in the mirror I'm reminded that I'm reclaiming other aspects of my life this year. Inspired. I'm liking it.

A New Year

2011-01-01T16:13:00.000-08:00

Why hello. Fancy seeing you here. Yes, it has been a long time. Too long. Let us begin again.

You know what happens after you have a baby? You bring the baby home. and every waking minute (of which there are far more than you knew possible) is spent keeping the baby alive and somewhat comfortable. And in between the never ending moments of infant care, attention is directed towards the older child. This leaves roughly negative fifteen minutes a day for self-care.

I am lost.

I am oomphless.

It took me a solid year after Asher was born to even be aware of the desire to find myself. I didn't think I would ever get there but by the time he neared two I was feeling like Amy.

Look, here is proof (I need to keep looking at the proof.)

A bit of playfulness returned

A semblance of a waist returned

A single chin returned

A sense of style returned

Yes, ME returned. But it's just about the time when the oomph came back--when Amy got her groove back that....

So....there is that. And while I truly do not enjoy being pregnant (*seriously* do not enjoy it--just the results) I had moments at the end where I felt more beautiful than I ever have in my entire life. As dorky as it sounds I really did feel glowy.

About an hour before Amelie arrived--check out my hair. Holla!

And then she came and my heart burst into a million pieces. I think details will have to be shared at another time, but it probably was the most miraculous moment of my life. What I am saying is to be oomphless is not without good reason. Amelie Iris is worth all my oomph and more. But here is what I saw a couple days ago when I looked in the mirror.

I am unrecognizable to myself. And is it me or are my eyes going in opposite directions in the last photo? See? My eyes no longer focus. Also, lets not get started on the added bumps and lumps on my body. Or the frumpy mom jeans. Or how the only shirts I now possess provide for easy access and little support for the beasties that need supporting. In what feels like the blink of an eye I went from glowy and purposeful to dowdy and clueless.

I've been making a list of what needs to happen to get me back. One of them is to be more intentional about writing. For me it is as though things aren't true until they have been put down in words. I find reality in the telling. In other words, I hope to create life on paper again.

And yesterday, there was this

And so it begins. Again.

beyond words

2010-09-19T10:37:00.000-07:00

Dreams Really Do Come True

2010-09-07T09:39:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow we welcome our baby girl into our arms and my focus today consists of completing all of my internal "to do's." At the top of the list is to finally extract a post which has been written umpteen hundred times inside my brain since June. As I sit here today, my last morning pregnant, my girl makes her presence known by kicking at the laptop. bounce, bounce, bounce....

The song "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," as sung by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole, first made it's way into my ears via the death scene of Dr. Green on ER. The song was haunting and perfect and dug it's way deep into my psyche. Since this was in the archaic days of pre-Google and Itunes, the song was rather illusive and secret. In common conversation it would be referred to like, "that one song." Every now and again it would pop up in the media (ala Billie Elliot) and stop my heart.

In 2002 I was working as a chaplain at a children's hospital--confronting daily the complexity of death amongst life--all while Bill and I were planning our wedding. This song was with me then. For us a huge part of getting the feeling of our wedding day right, revolved around the music that would be played. We had pre-wedding music, the wedding music, post wedding music....a complete soundtrack for the event, each one vital (to us) for setting the mood. This particular song was part of the cocktail hour playlist and it's poignancy was so great I can still recall exact details from when it rang out.

I remember getting into place for pictures with Bill's family--his beautiful, beautiful family (now mine!) when the opening notes began--trying to contain the emotion in my heart, to absorb the reality as it unfolded. I willed time to slow and accepted as best I could the gift of the moment.

Since then this song has been a host to hold and uplift many more moments.

Back in early June Asher and I were filling up the minutes till dinner by listening to Pandora and dancing. To be honest, I was rather tired and simply going through the motions to appease him. I wasn't present. "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" came on and my heart was stirred. I looked into the eyes of the boy before me. I held my belly and brought the girl into the dance. My mind asked, "Who am I to be so lucky?" as a shift occurred in the room. Tears may have been shed.

Later that evening Asher was put to bed but wasn't sleeping. After an hour or so of hearing him talk Bill went to check on him. He came down and asked if I had talked to Asher about his sister--specifically had I told him her name? Not recently, no-- and certainly not her whole name. why? Asher was in bed talking to Iris. Amelie Iris--our "hard working rainbow."

That night, after Asher finally went to sleep, Bill and I watched the season finale of Glee. The serendipitousness of life cannot be made up.

Anne Lamott

2010-08-08T09:46:00.000-07:00

Last night. Last night I met her. Her. I am still weepy over it all this morning.

It was spring break my first year of seminary when I was introduced to her. I was on a train headed to see a friend in Boston and brought along "Traveling Mercies" for the journey. As I sat by myself on that train of strangers I laughed out loud and cried without restraint. Her words did that for me. It was her honesty--she said things that were so true that I had no choice but to respond in kind. How did she do that? She just said the truth and it was both refreshing and foreign to me. I loved it and couldn't comprehend it and wanted it--craved it. And who knows if this incident on the train was the chicken or the egg--but it is a good enough place to call a beginning (or at least a significant marker) on my own personal road of revelation and truth telling. Anne Lamott's words were a beacon telling me that I could go there--I could make my way to the shadows and still survive. Every book of hers that I have since read has reaffirmed this message and provided inspiration to continue on my way. Her words have become part of my inner chatter and so often I borrow her insight to make my way through the muck.

A couple of weeks ago I walked out a different door after church and happened to pass by a table. Even though the lights had already been turned off her printed face on a postcard jumped out to me. She was coming to lecture in two weeks! I flew from the sanctuary to Bill shoving the postcard in his face saying "my birthday! my birthday!". And then I stared at her picture the whole way home and proceeded to daydream about the event everyday afterward.

She did not disappoint. She speaks exactly as she writes--humorously, honestly, passionately. The room was so crowded that even though I had come w/ friends I had to sit by myself. And just like on the train--surrounded by strangers--I laughed out loud and cried without restraint. She spoke from the pulpit (of course she did!) and it was holy. It was church.

sort of what I'm trying to say--I'm going to just stop and press "post" now

2010-06-13T10:41:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite books from the past year has been "Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art" by Madeleine L'Engle. (I briefly mentioned it some time ago somewhere around here.) Her writing is brilliant--relatable--generous--inspiring....I kept a notebook beside me as I read the book because it felt like I was underlining every other paragragh and needed to copy down sentences as a way of absorbing them. I wanted to eat her words. L'Engle states up front and makes it very clear she considers herself to be a Christian and that her writing originates from this perspective. Her basic premise is all art that points us to something bigger/ greater than ourselves is by her definition "Christian Art"--even if the artist is not a Christian and/or did not intend for the art to be Christian. She goes on to explain this throughout and one of her strongest arguments--and one of my favorite take away "ah-ha's"--is that (and I am strongly paraphrasing here) nothing could be more secular than God becoming human. yes! I love it when profound thoughts are laid out so simply :) It is so simple and yet, somehow this one idea keeps turning and turning within me.

And not too-too long ago I linked to a post by Elizabeth Gilbert on creativity where in she says that artists aren't genius themselves--but at times are able to tap into some outward/ external pool of genius. To take my ongoing conversation w/ L'Engle and couple it with a little Gilbert would be the basic heart of my understanding of LOST. Producers-writers, Carlton Cruse & Damon Lindelof, stated in the pre-finale wrap up (again, paraphrasing) that they felt as though the story of LOST already existed and they were able to find it and give it life. I (obviously) agree as the show was too big in it's scope to have come solely from here.

I have read many recaps and summations of the show some of which point to the facts, some to the gaps. The one that rings truest for me was posted on Jezebel (sorry, I can't seem to figure out who the author is)--which highlights the spiritual magnitude of the show. This too is what I found so compelling. The big revelation of LOST was that it unabashadly pointed to something bigger--something more. I've never encountered t.v. the way I did with show--I have never experienced a show that tried to engage philosophy and theology and human history and science and art and religion--EVERYTHING--like this one show did. (I've also never given a second glance towards science fiction--but that too has now changed.) Is it odd to say I'm grateful for the experience of LOST? Cause I am and I felt like to watch it was to take part of some sort of ginormous communion with humanity. Art brings the divine to us; LOST is art. L'Engle would've loved the show.

The Healing Walk

2010-06-06T09:47:00.000-07:00

Two posts today--woohoo! Probably not another one for another two weeks :)

While I have two minutes and two coherent thoughts to throw together I have to mention a new blog by a guy I went to seminary with--Patrick Ryanball. He and I weren't necessarily close, but our school was small enough that by default you knew everybody (even if you didn't "know them." you know?) Anyway, he has always written, and written well, but this new blog is something that must be shared. What he is writing about is his own truth as a person living with a disability. But it is so much more than that. When a person starts to speak/write/express truth--"Truth"--it is somehow a truth that everyone can relate to and acknowledge. And so while I do not live with the effects of cerebral palsy on my body--I do live in a body--which makes me broken. I mean, that is one of the things about being a human in a physical body--we're broken. It's Truth. and Patrick touches upon it in such spot on ways. anyway, go--read--relate--heal. http://thehealingwalk.wordpress.com/

Good God

2010-06-06T09:02:00.000-07:00

Where has the time gone...I've literally been trying to write two posts for two weeks now. Two weeks. It all started with the LOST final which was just beyond anything I've ever experienced on television and I was so profoundly moved and inspired and have (still) so much that I want to say about it. And then there is the magic between Asher and Amelie that just floors me. Did you catch her name? That's it. See? so much that hasn't been written that needs to be written. Don't even get me started on all of my lists of what needs to get done besides the writing--there are closets to be cleaned, shopping that needs to happen, Asher's baby scrapbook that after two years is only halfway finished and OH MY GOD it HAS TO BE DONE before she comes. see? see???? What do I do with any spare second? sleep. It is so uncontrollable this urge/need/desire--uncontrollable and overwhelming. And I'm at the stage of pregnancy where sleeping at night is becoming almost--no not almost--it is--painful. If I'm not up peeing then I'm trying to roll over or find a position that doesn't hurt my hips or blah-blah-blah...and I know it will just keep getting worse.

I remember at the end with Asher crying before bedtime because I knew how awful the night would be. Right now Bill and I laugh because we know--WE KNOW--that we only think we're tired now. ha ha!!! How after Miss Elie (yes, that would be one of her already 200 nicknames) comes we won't have a complete conversation for another six months and tired won't even begin to describe our state of being. I know. I knew. This time around I knew and still said "yes" and "please" and so many "thank you's." She is so wanted. So very, very wanted. I'm just already feeling pulled into a thousand directions and not doing a good enough job at some of the most important ones. That's all. :) Last night Bill and I were talking about how we only have 13 weeks left. (How we have gotten to that number already is truly beyond comprehension.) And how it is probably impossible to feel ready. But we both felt confident that when she comes we will be able to manage and we will all survive. So, I guess there is that. Not everything will be perfect, but we will be able to welcome her and love her. Of course we will--we already do.

Randomness Four

2010-05-16T11:03:00.000-07:00

-I got my first mani/pedi of the season yesterday and went with the very non-traditional Amy (aka: plain jane) color of HOT PINK. Asher keeps looking at my fingers and asking what they are. ha! me too. but they're making me happy.
-Still in bed this morning. This pregnancy, while not a "difficult" one, is a lot more challenging for me than my first. I'm dealing w/ symptoms that are new for me and instinct (coupled w/ my body not cooperating) are telling me to stay quiet. so I am. it's boring. on a sadistic side note, not being able to pick up and carry Ash around is making him clingy to his momma. see? a bright side.
-Bella turns into a baby when I'm pregnant. again, no complaints here as I do so love momma-ing. she becomes lumpy jello and lets me hold her like a baby--this is not normal Bella behavior by a long shot. and I think something about my skin changes--like I emit more salt or something, bc she will literally lick my hand for HOURS if I let her. she's such a good girl (when she wants to be). oh! and we put her on a diet about a month ago. she isn't a fan--but girl was getting quite plump--which is sweet and delicious to moosh on, but I want her to be with us for as long as possible. sometimes momm-ing is hard.
-still stuck with the room conundrum. what color to paint it? I want Asher's room a rich dark chocolate brown. Baby G's a soft grey...if they share? Is there such thing as a "warm shade of grey?" such problems... ;)
-we're going with Bill's family to FL in about six weeks (not that I'm keeping exact track or anything...) and stupid, ingrained thought patterns have begun to rise. The thoughts that frantically remind me that I only have X number of days left to get skinny...why? dumb noise. Part of what I hate about them is that I've done so much work on self-acceptance and begin to assume I've reached a safe place--so I'm startled to hear them. Note to sub-conscious: I'm pregnant.
-blueberries. I love them.

Randomness Three

2010-05-12T10:25:00.000-07:00

Thoughts swirling in my head this morning when I woke up include:

-pineapple. I love it.
-I really hate putting away my clothes. I will fold them (or, ahem, Bill will) and then they will go into a pile on my floor. The pile is currently a beast. really, I should be doing something about it today. It was my plan to do something about it today...sigh....
-The snoogle pillow has become my best friend. I got it while preggo with Asher, used it like twice, and tossed it off the bed. hated it. I'm not even sure why I saved it. I begrudgingly got it down a week ago out of desperation and am in l-o-v-e. not sure what changed but am really grateful for the sleep it is affording me.
-going back and forth on whether we will try and have Asher and baby girl share a room or put him downstairs in his own. of course she'll be with us for the first several months but after that... Pro: we'd all be upstairs, downstairs room can remain guest/ play/ craft/ meditation room. Con: Asher is an amazing sleeper and I don't want it jinxed. Since we can't decide on this we still haven't gotten the toddler bed, reasoning that if he comes down here he'll just sleep in the full. We need to come up with a resolution soon as the boy looks like the hulk in the crib.
-this baby is crazy active compared to Asher--she moves ALL-THE-TIME. we may be a bit worried of what this means. :)
-fart jokes have never been funnier than when told by a two year old. The joke in it's entirety goes like this "toot. P.U." and usually Asher is laughing so hard he can barely say the word "toot" which makes it even more perfect. could this be a definition of happiness? I think perhaps.
-sleeping in till eight was heaven. Thank you Bill.

Sugar & Spice

2010-05-02T08:49:00.000-07:00

We're having a girl.

Well, most likely we're having a girl. Cause what the doctor actually says is more along the lines of, "I don't see any evidence of a penis." So that's comforting. But we're going all out with the pink never the less. If the child indeed comes with a penis we'll just start a future therapy fund cause I'm cleaning out and giving away boy baby gear. Anyway, we're in a bit of shock and trying to grasp the concept. Several times a day one of us will say it out loud and then we'll both giggle. Which is kind of odd since I've been convinced from the beginning that the child was a girl. So I'm not sure what the shock is all about. Before we had any children and we would daydream about babies it was always about girl babies. When we found out that Asher was a boy we were like ???? What does one do with a boy? And then we fell completely in love with the sweetest boy in the whole world to the point that now it's kind of hard to imagine anything other than a boy. So we went to the doctor fully expecting to hear, "it's a girl!" And when we heard, "I don't see a penis" I had an internal freak out. "What do you mean no penis? Where's the penis?" Really, there is no winning.

A girl. :) We've had a first name since the beginning of our marriage and had a middle name for a long time but then I decided I didn't like the middle name. Actually I tried changing the first name too but Bill would have none of it. So the brainstorm of a middle name has consumed my few free thoughts since January and we had pretty much decided on a name--but weren't committing. Well, Bill wasn't committing I should say--cause I was convinced by then. After the ultra sound we were talking with the doctor and Bill asked if she had heard any good names lately and she totally said our middle name. Hello! I'm also pretty sure it's the name because every time I've attempted to say it aloud since Wednesday I've gotten all teary and dumb. A girl. We're having a girl. A boy and girl baby--I'm such a happy, lucky momma.

Confirming My Pregnancy

2010-04-17T13:08:00.000-07:00

This just made me cry...

Ronaldi

2010-04-07T08:35:00.000-07:00

My father is coming for a brief visit. The last time he was here Asher was a wee one--and I was still baby-belly huge. Now Asher is huge and I am quickly returning. I'd really like it if people would visit during a skinny phase.

Rolling Away the Stone

2010-04-03T16:09:00.000-07:00

Tonight I will get to attend the Easter vigil service. I haven't taken part in Holy services since the year before Asher was born. I remember specifically getting ready to leave for the Good Friday service and deciding to go to the bathroom at the last minute. I saw blood and thought, "well, I guess I'm not pregnant after all." I was certain I had conceived. Later I would learn that that was my baby making himself nice and comfy and secure...Asher was my Lenten babe, this one is my Advent. What does any of it mean? I haven't a clue. But I ponder it--life--as I prepare to go and greet it in celebration. And it makes me wonder what it is I was certain was dead within me--what is it that even now is being resurrected?

Maundy Thursday on April Fools.

2010-04-01T21:15:00.000-07:00

It was a poopy kind of day. Poopy, poopy, poopy. So when I finally made it home I did what anyone else would do--I ate chocolate cake and vacuumed. Then I sang songs and played games that involved lots and lots of tickling. We even read the extra long books for bedtime. After rocky-rocky time Bella beckoned me to lay (or is it lie? suck it grammarists.) down beside her so she could lick the smell of soap off my hands. I mooshed her fuzzy-plump belly and rearranged her wrinkles. sigh. I might live.

And if your happy quotient hasn't yet been met, I offer you: Asher's lips, Bill's bald spot, and my ridiculous laugh...

Oh! and yesterday while I was thrifting for new books for the boy I stumbled upon a vintage picture book of the saints. I bought it and later noticed the inscription: To the Rooney Children, from Aunt Peg, April 10, 1966, Easter Sunday. Don't you think at the very least that it's a wink from the Universe? I do.

Wilderness: 3, What I am learning

2010-03-28T11:47:00.000-07:00

So this period that lasts from roughly October to mid March--this time of darkness--its metaphysical meanings have trumped me this time. truly, truly I have been brought to my knees. To say that my sense of wilderness began with Lent would be to short change serious months of questioning--but here we are, the beginning of Holy Week--the end of Lent--and the light is returning once more. yes.

What I am concluding about wandering and "testing" and wilderness is this--that the testing is not for the sake of God because God knows who God is--God knows who we are. The testing is for our own sake because there is always something more about the nature of God that can be learned--and that nature translates into our own. And I think these things after giving consideration to all of the "testing" stories--all the wilderness stories...yes, I think it is for us alone. I can't say that I understand it or am pleased that it happens because I thought that things were going quite swimmingly before the whole thing began. But here I am in what feels like it may be a clearing. Notice I didn't say I accepted this or that all of the insights have been found and I am pleased as punch--I am no Pollyanna. Merely, I am acknowledging a clearing.

To have it all culminate during Lent has been a layered cesspool of symbols. I resumed meeting w/ my spiritual director, Kay, for starters. I knew that she would be the beginning of the end which is why I took a two month break from her. :) I wanted to wallow alone and inviting her in marked an acknowledgement that change would be forthcoming. (She knows all these things and loves me anyway--bless her.) And almost immediately after meeting with her the black plague came to our home leaving us all intermittently ill for a period of three weeks. When I say that I haven't been this ill in years--YEARS--I am not indulging my love of drama. So I'm the mother to a toddler which means that I'm tired. I'm pregnant which means I'm even more tired and then--THEN--I was on my death bed while playing Florence Nightengale and was very, very tired. There have been such low points this season. At the root of them all lay a sense of abandonment--an old, old wound.

You know the kind of wound that never completely heals and routine care has to be given to it, otherwise it's libel to get all infected and gross again? One of those. I have two wounds of this nature, and abandonment would probably be somewhere at the heart of each. But the one which I am specifically referring to would be the death by suicide of my grandfather. My grandfather the minister. My grandfather my heart. My grandfather my rock and pillar and teacher and companion. My first love. My first best friend. His death will never really be resolved. Even still----even after I have come to a place of understanding and love--even after I have come to a place where I can say thank you that his suffering has ended--even after I have come to a place where I can see all the lessons and blessings that have come to me as a result. yes, even still wound care must be maintained. I was fourteen when it happened and don't think the darkness cleared in any significant way for another three years. And by then it was just that the darkness was transferred and maintained by other means. Needless to say, my sense of faith became...well, it became nothing--but in the end took me someplace I would have never reached through any other means. So this road in the wilderness is a familiar one. And while it ultimately blessed me the last time, is still one I would never (ever, ever, ever) willingly choose to embark on again. Would any of us? I will never be that kind of person.

Probably around November or December--one of the last times I met w/ Kay before my strike we had talked about how I couldn't personally connect w/ the divine but was trying to vicariously connect via the lives of the saints. So last week (our second meeting since Lent) when she asked me if I was studying any of the saints (because they too felt deep abandonment and darkness) I was all like, "Do you not listen woman?" :) Ugh! I tell you Ugh!! She does this on purpose. This nudging. And when I'm already hormonal and discontent I merely take these things with a roll of my eyes. We have one book on a saint that survived the great book purge of 2005--Julian of Norwich--and although I said I was looking at the saints I didn't necessarily mean that I was picking up a book to actually read. That last bit just happened. (My wallowing and stubbornness are mighty.) And before I quote the book in its entirety I will also interject that it is my concept of God--the names and images that I give the divine that have been transforming. The old felt outgrown and the new felt contrived. How can I pray when I don't have a name to pray to? My clearing companion, Julia, has gifted me with this name "Mother Jesus." As soon as the words were read, the tears began and with the tears came a connection.

And so our good Lord answered to all the questions and doubts which I could raise, saying most comfortingly: I may make all things well, and I can make all things well, and I shall make all things well, and I will make all things well; and you will see yourself that every kind of thing will be well....And in these...words God wishes us to be enclosed in rest and in peace.

Julian of Norwich: Showings, p 229

Beth and Jim, Part Four

2010-03-28T09:39:00.000-07:00

Jennifer Coolidge (in just about any role) + Jeff Bridges (specifically in "The Big Lebowski") = Beth and Jim. Can you see why I'm in love? If any further proof is necessary look at what their presence does to my beloved.

I think about them just about every time I giggle, hoping somehow that it's transported straight to their hearts.
Also when I eat cheetos.

finally

2010-02-22T19:00:00.000-08:00

Three and a half years, 100 + posts, four different layouts, and by God I think we have it--my blog finally looks the way I've always hoped. Many thank you's to my dear friend Jim of Beth and Jim parts one, two, and three. As soon as I am given the go ahead pictures of their beautiful faces will be forth coming.

Wilderness: 2. I can do it.

2010-02-21T21:30:00.000-08:00

I can be honest about a sore spot and release unfinished thoughts on a subject that everyone has an opinion. Yep.

The lectionary Gospel lesson for today came from Luke 4:1-13. It begins:

1Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness...

From there Jesus, in the wilderness for 40 days, is tempted by the devil.

And I'm having trouble with the whole being "led by the spirit" into temptation bit. I also have trouble with the story of Job for much the same reasons--all the temptations stories in general actually. Like why? I keep wrestling with it and don't have any answers (yet)--just thoughts. Like, if I knew someone who was in a relationship where they were constantly being "tested" as a means of proving faithfulness--I would counsel the person to re-examine remaining in such an unhealthy situation. Right? It just sounds insecure and unfair. So, it doesn't make sense to believe that this is the way a relationship with God works.

That's it. I miss having an easy going relationship with God--but I will remain true to the search that is in my heart for authenticity. I don't accept pat answers. That's what led me on my journey to seminary ten years ago. The feeling of having been fed rote responses to life's questions--experiencing how short they fall from adequate. I wanted to be able to ask the difficult questions and rely on myself to discover my own answers. Living through the wilderness of misunderstanding is part of the deal.

I think more on that for next time.

Olé!

2010-02-19T21:35:00.000-08:00

I discovered a new favorite blog today--The Amber Lily--I'm liking her/ them a lot. It was there I came across a speech given by Elizabeth Gilbert for TED in 2009. I promise if you value creative arts it is worth the 19 minutes.

oops

2010-02-18T13:13:00.001-08:00

I decided to try and make a few changes. Not such a grand idea. Please bear w/ me as I try and get this puppy up and running (and pretty).

Wilderness: 1

2010-02-18T13:02:00.000-08:00

I'm a day late. What's new. Yesterday was the beginning of Lent. I'm not feeling it this year. At all. But, I am committed to...well...something. I guess the best I can describe it is to say I'm committed to keep on keeping on. I've been writing a lot lately (privately) about my sense of wilderness. And you know we/ I/ humans have this tendency to over specialize thoughts/ feelings. When actually my thoughts and feelings aren't really so special or unique and when I open them up to the world I end up finding connections otherwise lost. So...yeah. I'm lost. And while I'm still uncertain about my relationships w/ all things divine, tradition reminds me that Jesus too experienced abandonment. So there's that.

where there's now one, there will be two

2010-02-18T10:23:00.000-08:00

We received the happy news on December 27th and my brain has been mush ever since. We're so very, very excited.

Wherein Bella is Goldi-no-locks

2010-01-06T10:03:00.000-08:00

Our family of four wins the award for best hibernators. We are bears. Except for Bella who is more of a monkey. The holiday took far to long to arrive and then BOOM. done. It was perfect. And I say this from the perspective of being a very new convert to caring about the holiday. It just hasn't ever been something high on my list of things to get excited about (I can take mellow to the extreme). But, wow. I relished creating Christmas for our love bug. And the day was slow, and lazy, and pressure-free, and happy. Much like our past few weeks have been. Bill and I have both been on our death beds at various points due to some crazy lung crunchies--which means that energy has been hard to come by. And while I hate the sick part--I adore that it does the impossible feat of slowing him down. He sits. He rests. The only time he does this is when he is ill which is why I'm pretty sure he schedules himself to fall ill every Christmas Eve. Every single one since I've known him. Watching our family "become family" like, hmmmm....like, something about going through a holiday--just us--watching how we "do" Christmas unfold and be so "us"--it made getting to sit in the momma chair all the more sweet.

The most precious part was Asher's innocence to the day. While we have been reading books and talking about Christmas it's all a pretty abstract concept for a not yet two-year-old to grasp. One of my favorite moments from the day was first thing Christmas morning--Asher came downstairs and was more interested in the fire on tv than he was the presents under the tree. Probably the last year that the day will be met w/o expectation from him; I cherish it.

Peace On Earth

2009-12-13T10:00:00.000-08:00

O Come, O Come

2009-12-06T07:10:00.000-08:00

After months (and I do mean months) of considering getting out of bed when I actually wake up (around 4) I finally did it this morning. It was quite lovely. I actually used to choose to do this on a routine basis back before the boy. I'm not making any commitments, but would love to get back into the practice. We'll see...

In other exciting news--Bill's parents were here the week of Thanksgiving and gave us a tremendous jump start on a lovely remodel. Is that the word? Remodel? I don't know if that's the right word cause it sounds kind of fancy and we are definitely not fancy. We're finally, (finally, finally, finally) getting new flooring in our lower level. And it is nothing short of miraculous. We aren't carpet people. period. But we made due for a very, very, very long time. It was hideously disgusting so anything would have been better. When the carpet was being pulled up and we saw the white concrete underneath we were both like, "dang, we could've just lived w/ this till we could get something else." Yes, concrete would have been better. In one short sentence: young college males rented this home from the previous owner. Need I say more? Anyway, the flooring is in and it is like a soul has been gifted to our home. The floor glows. I forgot how hardwood (or in our case, laminate) glows. It's beautiful and warm and homey. We are now home. And it has stirred such an energy. We're going through everything and releasing belongings--nay--things. stuff. So clearing, and creating space, and bringing in new. Oh, it's amazing. I haven't felt this way in so long and I'm cherishing it plenty.

And! And we have for the first time in SEVEN years, a tree. A small little pre-lit number from Walmart along w/ some shatterproof ornaments that all hope to survive a toddler and ~~naughty~~ spirited cat. But, whatever, that's why we got cheap and plastic. The point is that the Christmas spirit has come. Even the music. Oh yeah baby. Bill is rolling his eyes and I'm laughing. Why not?

So in a nutshell, that is it. Hope. Yes, I think that's it.

Oh, and I have no idea what we're going to do about Christmas cards. Asher is anti family pictures. This is the closest we've gotten....hmmm...can we say, "almost two?"

Blood, Sweat, Tears...the aftermath

2009-11-18T09:28:00.000-08:00

Well, it's up. I decided to go w/ two posts bc for whatever reason the pictures wouldn't format the same. Some things I will never understand. This whole trying to figure out code brought me back to my childhood--for reasons I will also never understand I somehow made it into the gifted program in grade school. While I am gifted with reading comprehension (or at least the tests said so)--and have come to identify my intuition as a gift--as well as my dreaded (and hard for others to deal with) sensitivity, and my stubborness for justice and "rightness"...I am digressing...What I am trying to say is that I have gifts (we all do) but only one of them translates into a traditional learning style. And the gifted classes that I attended weren't so geared towards my "one" talent. They seemed to revolve a lot around the sciences and we had to take an awful, mind numbing, soul suffocating computer class that was all about programming (this was the early 80's) and it was not a good match. Not a good match at all for my day dreamy, not one for that kind of detail, self. No, no, no. Anyway, I'm still not good at it. And that's okay. I still rocked the nerd look:

Doesn't she just say day dreamy-bookworm? How I have come to love this girl--this sensitive, stubborn, magical little girl.

Blood, Sweat, Tears...I will be victorious, pt. 1

2009-11-18T08:53:00.000-08:00

Asher was off from school on Wednesday and the two of us took our favorite walk through the arboretum. We refer to it as a "duck walk." These are a few of our favorite parts....

As always, if you double click on the image you can see the detail.

Ducks!

A really awesome looking tree that will only get more amazing as it loses its leaves.

The beginning of my favorite part--the redwoods.

Roots.

Craggly old faces.

Blood, Sweat, Tears...I will be victorious, pt. 2

2009-11-18T08:52:00.000-08:00

A good reason to love CA.

My Date.

Pretzels and Pucker lips.

He melts me.

He melts me more.

Time to go--you can hardly tell.

The return

Sunday night

2009-11-15T22:03:00.000-08:00

I have been trying to write a post since Wednesday night and it has been slightly problematic. I haven't tried posting a large amount of pictures since "upgrading" to the newer editor option and am less than pleased. Basically it sucks and all of my pictures keep deleting in the edit process, font styles and formatting mysteriously change, and the html is whack. So there. My creative energy has taken a beating. But whatevs. I'm doubting that the pictures will ever make it. Moving on.

I've had an amazing weekend to say the least. Friday night after work I went w/ a girlfriend to a scrapbook store in Sacramento that stays open until MIDNIGHT. yes, really. and then stayed the night w/ her so we could get up Saturday morning and start all over. I scrapped and crafted and girl-talked till Sat night and then came home exhausted. I so needed it. It did my heart some serious good. Even though--even though I felt guilty as all get out (even though Bill has been trying to get me to take a retreat of some sort since July.) and even though I had some serious anxiety on Saturday. I am such a pattern person--so attached to routine--and it was like the later it got in the day (the farther off track from my routine I became) the more my anxiety grew. Dumb anxiety. We all survived and Momma is happy. :) And I got lots and lots of snuggies and kisses (given freely w/o any begging on my part!) today--so, yeah, everything is right in my world.

I so wanted to be a part of Christina's "Simple Things" event--but alas it wasn't meant to be. If you haven't had the pleasure of "meeting" her you must stop by and try to take in all the lovin she offers. She is warmth and hospitality and beauty and quite simply all-around-good for the heart.

$#!+

2009-11-12T21:03:00.000-08:00

For the second time this week I have managed to delete my post and the stupid freaking auto save--auto saved the delete. I could cry.

Alive

2009-11-11T14:03:00.000-08:00

We're alive. I'm alive. I just haven't been online (as much). We've been settling back into the routine of life and regrounding ourselves here--in this place--in the right nowness of now. :) As in the daydreaming and wishing away the present tense has almost ceased and the making peace with reality has begun. So I've been nesting as part of my process--turning our residency into a home (FINALLY) and just being all around crafty. I'm enjoying myself. I'm really enjoying my boys. Everyday I fall in love deeper which is really the darndest thing--cause everyday I can't imagine loving them any more and then...I wake up and it happens all over again--but deeper.
A walk on Sunday with my favorite two-legged baby bear:

I'm not completely satisfied with the edit on the one of just Ash by himself--I kept tweaking and tweaking and couldn't seem to get it--but it will suffice. But I am happy w/ the one of us--happy enough--the remnants of being sick and eating too much Halloween chocolate are still evident on my forehead...but that's life.

Change of Plans

2009-11-01T10:20:00.000-08:00

I accidentally left my purse w/ my keys in the car Bill used to take to church. Guess I won't be going anywhere this morning. It's a blessing. I woke up discontent and cranky and in need of space. Space....

So, I decided to start working on another scrapbook--because the unfinished one is soooo much fun! ;) Seriously, I spent five (FIVE!) hours Friday night not (NOT!) finishing two pages. Right? I will never finish his baby book and am losing steam/ideas/blah for this particular project. So I dove into my pregnancy album. Fun--not nearly as heart wrenching or emotion filled--and easy. It's not all about legacy and trying to please some future adult version of my child. Wow, those can be some high expectations and he's really demanding as an adult. Plus, shades of blue get depressing. (Especially when you're already half way there.) AND, I must finish these books before I can consider future babes.

The boy is a boy and no longer a babe and I rather liked having one around.

Opening page pic:

God bless Picnic.

That was me around 23ish weeks. The Fed-Ex guy that delivers to my office had already been asking when I was "going to pop, cause you're huge" for about a month at this point. sigh. It was taken right before we left to go to the ultra sound place to find out if the babe was a boy or a girl. My nervous hives must not have hit yet. But my nervous pee--which when you're pregnant and already peeing every 30 minutes--had struck and was annoying.

a poem that needs sharing

2009-10-28T15:03:00.000-07:00

God speaks to each of us as he makes us,

Then walks with us silently out of the night.

These are words we dimly hear:

You, sent out beyond your recall, go to the limits of your longing.

Embody me.

Flare up like flame and make big shadows I can move in.

Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.

Just keep going. No feeling is final.

Don't let yourself lose me.

Nearby is the country they call like.

You will know it by its seriousness.

Give me your hand.

-Rainer Maria Rilke-

I love RMR. so, so much. You know how when you first discover a new word (or whatever) and then it is everywhere? That has been my newfound relationship w/ Rainer. He has been in my everywhere lately. And I think about how imperfect he must have been to have been able to write such glimpses of the perfect. And then that leads me to thoughts about a new (for me) book by Madeleine L'Engle about creativity and Christianity and how she too is becoming a beacon of light. I am trying to listen.

Starting Over

2009-10-28T09:39:00.000-07:00

I woke up earlier than expected (namely because my life partner came in the room and made a lot of noise) on my day to sleep in, with words in my head waiting to be put down. And then I got out of bed, went downstairs to snuggle my monkey before school, grabbed some tea, turned on my computer, and before writing--read through other blogs. That last part wasn't so brilliant cause I've lost my words and can only think of someone else's...and I should've definitely gone for the coffee instead of the tea. When will I learn?

ok. I'll get coffee and then the words will come back. come back!

Found.

In my last post I shared cracks in my faith. They exist. Right now I am struggling because I'm full of questions and doubt and am really (really) tired of what feels like a never ending journey. But, I've also reached a place where I can acknowledge that--maybe even dwell in it (just a teensy bit)--because even though I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT--I know I'm learning something. And if the God that I say I (usually) believe in actually does exist--they're big enough to handle my anger. and hurt. And why am I sharing any of this? Really, why? Because what I have learned through this process so far is that the side of myself that I love is the side that just lets loose and lets the pit-of-my-belly kind of honesty shine. Even when it isn't reciprocated. I mean that's the part that hurts--to love and not receive love in kind. Yeah, it's a pretty good sting. But, I loved every moment of the loving. And I loved showing up without pretense. That's kind of a new one for me--a new level of maturity that peeked out. Showing up and letting wounds show. Without shame I might add. Or remorse. But with the (growing) wisdom that they're what ultimately make up my voice and contribution. Indeed, I am still growing a life.

Other thoughts on the day:
-I am def going to be changing the design again. Thinking I'm going to be a follower and go w/ the all white like everyone else. I tried :) There's probably a good reason why everyone just goes w/ the all white. It looks better.
-Meeting w/ Kay today. Thank you God (that I usually believe in). I need to borrow her wisdom for sure.
-Wondering if I will be mature and gracious come Saturday morning--Bill's day to sleep in. :) I'm going to enjoy all the possibilities until then.
-Tonight we are going to a potluck at Asher's school. I dread being social--I will worry about it all day--and then go, fall into conversation with a new best friend, and be one of the last to leave. Happens every time.

Pics of my (still) baby last year at the potluck:

disillusionment

2009-10-26T21:13:00.000-07:00

I was informed that leaving a post for this blog was problematic. I've changed a few things and hopefully it should be easier now. So wow, let the good times roll--don't everyone come out of the woodwork at once ;) I tease. I would love to hear from you--love to hear what you think of the new layout, etc. Your comments are welcome here.

I am going through a bit of a confusing time and since I'm not really able to fully disclose the nature of it describing it comes out sounding like gobbledeegook. But I'll try anyway and then we can at least be confused together. See, I try really, really hard to make a conscious contact w/ my creator on a routine basis and allow that contact (or attempted contact) to inform the way I live--the choices I make. I thought I was/ we were being firmly led down a definitive path and now I'm gathering that may have been a mistake. Which is throwing a big fat wrench into my outlook. What I thought were signs may have truly just been coincidences. Isn't that a bummer? I didn't really think coincidences existed--but it turns out they do. Hmph. And I'm left wondering what the point of the exercise was. Like was all of that time and energy and hope really necessary? Cause it kinda seems like it wasn't. So I'm confused. And a little bit hurt. And a lot a bit tired.

Eureka!

2009-10-24T12:59:00.000-07:00

I've discovered how to change the size of my pictures. And font size. And color. Watch out blogosphere.

feeling like poo

2009-10-23T10:06:00.000-07:00

Today marks my second day in bed--feeling physically bad--feeling like a horrible mother. Yesterday Bill had to leave me alone w/ Asher for a bit and I totally let Sesame Street entertain him while I laid on the couch staring at the ceiling. Today when Bubby sees me he only wants, "up, up" and asked me to give him a bottle w/ milk. Since when does he want that? You think he's missing momma? Trying to remind me he's my baby? It hurts. He wins.

Aside from the new design of my little space here, I've added labels for my posts. It was fun to go through and read past thoughts. I even found a couple that never got posted. One was just pics of little Howie and the other was a funny one about my granny panties that never got adequately edited. I posted the Howard one :) My goodness he was a handsome boy. I've thought of him a bit over the past couple days of lying in bed. He was such a good little nurse when I would get sick--never leave my side--every now and again tap me to make sure I was still breathing...Bella is learning. God bless her. She had a lot of kitten in her. A lot. I think four has turned out to be her year.

The other thing I want to start doing more is posting pics. Even if they're old. So be on the look out for labels and pictures. And maybe more tweaking.

I'm not in love

2009-10-22T21:53:00.001-07:00

I'm not in love and def not attached to the look (just yet)--but am holding out hope that I can still tweak it just so. We'll see. The other design I had been using I initially liked and then grew to hate because it was dark. I like the color scheme that I have going here--but since I'm using a pre-designed template I'm having trouble getting my heading the way I want. Something to occupy brain space I suppose.

still a work in progress

2009-10-21T22:10:00.000-07:00

Stopping for the night. More changes to come.

don't be scared

2009-10-21T19:56:00.000-07:00

I'm playing around and trying to find a new look. Hopefully this will happen before the Nyquil sets in...

Possibilities

2009-10-21T09:41:00.000-07:00

I have such a love/hate relationship with this time of year. Love because--well because it's fall. Hello? Hate because--in short--it is dark.

I have become more sensitive to the affect of light and am acutely aware of it's absence. Like clockwork there is a shift in energy in October and I've come to realize it isn't personal. I can hear the buzz of "not feeling myself" everywhere.

Mostly for symbolic/ metaphorical reasons a lot of my reflections tend to be based around the image of light. But, several years ago I began trying to re envision the dark--questioning my (often negative) associations--and befriend the night. It started off as a kind of meditation that I led for small children and then morphed into one I offered to adults. It began, "sometimes the night can feel so long...." Right now we're just at the preface of our longest nights; The journey inward begins. I find the transition to be a challenge but what has helped is to think of all the restoration that happens in shadow. The creativity that is born. The possibilities that lie in wait. This is where they begin.

Sounds of the Eternal is a cd that has accompanied me the past two seasons of darkness. For whatever reason I'm not so drawn to it during the spring/summer. On Sunday, as I started to feel the call of hibernation, it made it's way back to the playlist. I am predictable for sure. I was first introduced to the music within a small group setting during the final weeks of my pregnancy. The first chant, "Hidden Things" became my mantra and the totality of the chant, "I will show you hidden things, hidden things you have not known" evokes all the images of what I hope for as I say hello to the coming evening.

Me, a short while before our sweet boy entered the world, trying to focus on the promise of revelation...if you concentrate you can hear the music behind Bill's narration :)

fun on Picnik 2

2009-10-14T14:39:00.000-07:00

Goofy

2009-10-14T07:57:00.000-07:00

The level of ooey-gooey-goofy-sweetness is reaching an all time high. oh the things this silly boy does to my heart....

We've been walking and dancing and singing and laughing. lots and lots and lots.

Bill and I went out of town for a few days without Asher. It was painful. I mean it was fun and we had a great time and it felt so...weightless? free? something like that...to be just us and not wondering every two seconds, "where's Asher? Is Asher alive? What's he doing now?" kind of a thing. But there was also a certain level of unrest that didn't leave until I was with him again.

He's the bestest thing ever.

My Reminder

2009-09-23T10:43:00.000-07:00

Not being able to predict the future sucks. I mean that in a relative sense at least. I just like feeling prepared. Right? Like if this is the path we're heading towards then I will do such and such. And if we're really going down some other path then I know I want to do that. Instead I am forced to go through ANOTHER whole day of trying to sit in the present. I hate this exercise. Bill says, "patience." I respond with unmentionable words. This morning, like most mornings, I read one (yes, there is more than one) of my meditations and it began with the words: I love today because [it has given me]a deep understanding of and gratitude for yesterday. I look back at what I was with a sense of triumph.... And this morning, like most mornings, I read them and went, "what am I supposed to do with that?" And then after some time of fretting and worrying that I will NEVER BE ABLE TO MAKE IT ANOTHER WHOLE DAY with out knowing, I am reminded of words that I actually spoke aloud to another human not so long ago. They went: If it's possible to have a prayer for a higher power I think that's what the gratitude prayer represents for me. Whenever I choose to say it, and remember all the things that I have been blessed with, it always makes my cup look half full. Sometimes I hate the things that come out of my mouth. Right? And then after thinking about all the reasons why it won't work today I gave in and tried it anyway. That's when Miss Belly B came in the room, jumped on the bed and got comfy. Of course she did. The girl has a sixth sense for prayer which continually amazes me. Like, how does she know? You know? But she does and is a constant companion on my journey. I love her. Every now and again when Bella is being particularly sweet and snuggy, either Bill or I will say, "I can't believe this is the same Bella." The same Bella who didn't sleep for the first three days she came to live with us. (Honest to God.) The same Bella who for months wouldn't dare let us touch her even though she was so desperately lonely and sad and frightened. (She would be so resolute during the day, but then at night when she was certain we were sleeping she would come and give in to rest at my side.) The same Bella who for years would run round and round the house on a never ending game of chase with ghosts. Yes, this Bella, has become my spiritual companion. In the mornings when I reluctantly get up from our meditation to shower I'll say, "Bella, hold the space." And she does. She takes her job very seriously. And so this morning when I gave in to the presence of gratitude with "the same Bella" beside me I, heard another voice saying, "I can't believe this is the same Amy..." stupid patience. A pic today of my girl after sharing sacred space with a friend.

A bit of this and that

2009-09-19T12:43:00.000-07:00

I put in a wee bit of effort a couple of days ago to clean this place up. I've played around w/ font size and color--still not totally happy w/ the over all look of the place--thinking I want something brighter...hmmmm....not sure. Moving on...And I updated my blog list (special-specials). I'm going to highlight two: Nie-Nie Dialogues: If you haven't read her, you must. She is an absolute must read. I just discovered her a couple of weeks ago--like THE anniversary day of her plane crash last year. Crazy. The crash that killed a man, injured her husband, and left her w/ burns covering 90% of her body. I cannot begin to comprehend any of it. And even still, Nie Nie's spirit soars. She is beautiful and reminds me of how much there is to celebrate. My Life Behind the White Picket Fence: One of my bestest, oldest, dearest and FUNNIEST friends Sandy is the voice behind this newest gem. Oh lord, the laughter I have shared with this woman. I can never get enough of her outlook and wit and am so glad that she has returned to writing. She is such a gift.

Indeed

2009-09-16T13:05:00.000-07:00

I got to sleep in today and when I did finally wake I took a few moments. At first my brain started in with reminders and the anxiety to get up nearly won out but soon enough the crazies quieted down. So I laid in bed, staring up at the morning mottled darkness and allowing the silence to hold me. Eventually awareness descended and hallelujah! I think I'm back from outer space. Like, the funk of the previous weeks has passed. And with this finding came the idea that tomorrow I celebrate three years of saying "yes" to life. It really only keeps getting better.

Pam Anderson gives birth

2009-09-11T21:38:00.000-07:00

A friend and I are going to scrapbook tomorrow. This means that I will be required to make commitments to pictures and designs and utilizing a sticker or two. Precious, precious stickers...it breaks me to use them. I just want to keep buying embellishments that I keep in sweet little organizers and pull out to look at when I need some fantastical magic in my life. This scrapbook thing is way harder than I ever gave it credit for. I got suckered in via stamping and making cards--which you know, only takes a couple of hours and not a ton of emotional attachment...I'm still stuck on day one of Asher's life. I can't! I cannot go there. I have no clue as to how I'm supposed to capture the biggest most incredible experience in all the universe into a cute little 8x8 page. And the pictures fail me. Completely. Cause internally I felt all glowy and beautiful and whole. But while I may have felt amazing, I looked like ______. Serious, serious, (serious) ______. Even after... ...even after I doctored them on picnic. I did. So there. I spray-tanned, and airbrushed, and blemish corrected, and applied mascara and blush and lip gloss, and used "eye bright" (whatever that is), and soft focussed over all of it. And still...the disparity between feelings and reality is rather large. Yes it is. Committing to the actuality may be the hardest part.

a beginning

2009-09-02T13:01:00.000-07:00

I am forcing myself to sit here and write. Just do it already. The longer I put it off the harder it seems... I've been grieving. I'm finding this time around with grief that it isn't just the triggered incident that gets grieved over. All the griefs from the past have risen again to the surface and want to be acknowledged once more (for good measure). It's making me feel more insular than normal. Like I see the world happening, but it all seems separate from my own experience and that only increases my tendency toward isolation. I know that if I would just write I would start to feel a connection--a connection that I both want and don't want. Want and don't want.

Missouri

2009-08-23T11:21:00.000-07:00

I traveled home to help celebrate my uncle. I traveled home alone--no relationships or acquired roles and names (like wife & mother) to buffer me from all that the place holds. The familiarity rushed in and around and through and I felt so strongly my place there. Here I am, three days back and still trying to absorb it whole. There is a slight possibility that I am homesick.

Communion

2009-08-16T08:51:00.000-07:00

I had a restless night and gave up on sleep after having a vision of Asher unable to breathe.

It was my uncle whose breath had stopped.

Yesterday afternoon he managed a few bites of angel food cake and invited my mother to share in its sweetness.

Great Expectations

2009-08-12T10:13:00.000-07:00

Ten years ago I was transitioning from undergrad to grad school and was eking out what life I had left in St. Lou--working at Jennifer's Pharmacy and Nik’s wine bar with Glenna, staying up late for the gift of music and conversation with a best friend, and falling in and out of love a couple more times for good measure. (I wanted to make sure that the going produced the perfect ache.) But when it came time to leave it really just felt like I was returning home and I was so excited--so ready--for it to finally happen. It was early morning and still dark when we began our trip to Virginia. My parents were in one car, I was in the other. For the first few hours of the trip I only listened to three songs. That's it. Three songs. I can be obsessive like that. So it's very probable that it was this song that was playing when the sun first started to shine on a farm field somewhere in Illinois and the dam of tears was released as I realized: I'm really on my way "there." I was finally getting to go home to me. This journey to the self has exceded in every way possible, every expectation I could have imagined that day. At the outset all I had was the faintest of impressions that I was being led towards freedom. Sitting here, ten years later, I recognize all around me the layers of fallen bandages which once held together, and tried keep hidden, my woundedness. Uncovering and exposing truths by naming them aloud (the very things I once could not accept) are eventually what brought me to life. Real life. And as it turns out, an authentic life is so much better than a pretty life. I have learned to be grateful for, and find beauty in, the ugliness of wounds.

Holding You

2009-08-12T09:20:00.000-07:00

I have the morning off to write--but I received sad news today that you are hurting. It's making it hard for me to think of anything else. So I left my cave of comfort and journeyed down to the bedroom of light. This morning I will sit here and absorb it all for you--all while I hold you closely in my heart.

thirty-three

2009-08-04T21:49:00.000-07:00

I share this day with the sweetest Mandy (who was named after the Barry Manilo song naturally) and Barack Obama. If one were the type to get all self-righteousy, I could see how one could. If one were the type that is. Just sayin. I got to sleep in and was woken by a baby giggling in my face bearing kisses and iced coffee. Should I even continue after that last sentence? What else is there...Well a completed bathroom remodel (nothing too extensive just new paint and flooring) when I returned from work and the latest (for me) Anne Lamott book (Grace Eventually). Oh! and a Thomas the Train birthday card. It is truly a sweet day in a truly sweet life. A life that honestly feels like it's just now beginning. At least that's what I concluded after a brief "get with the program" meditation this morning. I swear, this birthday thing really took me by surprise. Usually I can just sense its approach--like there is some sort of internal something that happens around the date. Not this year. Whenever I would consider my birthday I would brush it off with the idea that it was way in the future. And then it wound up being today...so strange. So this morning while procrastinating the getting dressed portion of my life I forced myself to try and sit with and absorb the presence of life itself. I thought of a song by Colin Hay. A song that I used to listen to on repeat for days at a time. I still love it--but it now represents a previous existence--no longer some un-named longing. The simple acknowledgment that I'm living my real life was the day's gift. That and the best birthday cake.

This and That

2009-07-26T12:15:00.001-07:00

Bill was watching some random show on some random channel a couple weeks ago about the volcanoes in Hawaii. Apparently (and *all* of my "facts" here are highly suspect as I was only half listening to the TV) they create new land mass for the island. What was really amazing was even in the most acidic, and seemingly dead looking lava-land, flowers grow. After doing a tad bit of research, I think the flowers they were talking about were these: Metrosideros polymorpha.

And those flowers brought me back to my favorite words. The words from the first chapter of John are my favoritest ones to ever be written (in any genre). They are certainly also the trippiest words ever created and spin my thoughts a thousand different ways every time I consider them. One of my favorite lines goes: and the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. Trippy huh? Endlessly amazing words.

Those volcanic flowers stayed stuck in my brain--popping up and saying hello throughout the following days. I wondered about them.

And then Mare came. Mare is lovely and kind. Mare is also my mother. So there's the usual that. Except even with all that, this time I think I saw new land--and (maybe) a few flowers. Even here, there is light.

Showing Up

2009-07-25T22:00:00.000-07:00

Ever have so much to say that you're tongue-tied? I get that way often. Feeling that way right now. Things that I am pondering include: volcanoes, cosmology, relationships, and crafting--and of course their interrelatedness to whatever else remains...This morning at the playground a father was telling me how his five year old claims to have a CD player in his head. I couldn't agree more.

A picture Mare took:

You may recognize the stained glass from the bottom of my blog page. Yeah...
...
....
mind wandering and frozen :)
Is that what ADD is all about? Too much going on in the brain to keep up w/? I think that's moi.
.....
Anyhoo. The stained glass (for all of you non-native Greeks) reads (in Greek): Sophia and means "wisdom."

She was a gift from Bill and his parents when I graduated w/ my Master of Divinity. The term wisdom is found throughout the Bible and is one of the feminine names attributed to God. So why is it written in Greek? Because. Because in the realm of biblical languages I gravitated much more towards Greek. That's why. If they had written it in Hebrew I would've been asking Bill to translate it for the rest of our lives :) I only sort of kid. Besides Sophia is so much prettier than hokmah. So she is a part of our lives and the first thing we do upon moving is figure out where "our lady" will go. She's here.

Perhaps another day I will regale the tale of how I gave a sermon for my homiletics class about another (female attributed in Hebrew) word: Mounds. :) What? For now I will say that it was an approach not many have taken for preaching about the ten commandments.

And with that my friends, good night.

GrandMare

2009-07-23T09:03:00.000-07:00

I have gotten to sleep beyond 6 AM for three days in a row. A moment of silence please for GrandMare...Here she is letting me sleep in and educating Ash on all the latest that Oprah and Good Housekeeping have to offer.

I think it's great. Did I mention that I have slept in past six for three days in a row? I'm hoping he's taking the education seriously and will soon start picking out my clothes because I really detest that part of my day. I mean, come on, I change his diapers--I think it's the least he could do.

Isn't he getting huge? He looks older to me in photos than he does in real life. When I look at him in recent pictures I kind of freak out a little bit. Like who gave him permission to get bigger? Since Bill isn't here this week I'm going to blame him. He's also at fault for spoiling the child :) We went to the Wednesday night picnic in the park yesterday and wow, if he wasn't the evening's entertainment (next to the band). This boy loves to dance.

I still just love to snuggle and am more than willing to bribe him with a popsicle.

I swear Bill is the one who does the spoiling. Except this week. This week we'll blame GrandMare. :)

Do Not Pass Go

2009-07-16T17:21:00.001-07:00

I came home this afternoon and immediately headed for the kitchen. In order to continue living I needed double strength coffee and some of this chocolate goodness. And holy cats! Do you see those zucchini in the background. I know, I edited out any and all comments I may have made internally. Seriously. Anyway there is a 90+ retired gentleman that still comes in to the office because...well, I don't know. Because he's worked his whole life and so that's what he does--He comes to the office. Mainly to pick up mail and get hugs and coffee but to also bring in treats from his garden. He's had a garden his whole life and his green thumb proves it. He also brings in orchids and lots of other lovely blooms that I'm not botanically inclined enough to name. But it is the zucchini...mmmmm....when I was pregnant I came home and may have turned them into fried zucchini yummies to then possibly dip into ranch dressing. This summer it will be turned into raw "spaghetti" and perhaps (if we have enough--wink, wink) some baked zucchini fries. All righty, off to finish preparing for GrandMare's visit.

nope

2009-07-16T07:26:00.000-07:00

Looks like that pedicure still hasn't happened.

Two Hours

2009-07-15T14:36:00.001-07:00

The morning light through the tree.

Ready. Or at least clean which is about as ready as I get on my days off.

cherry remnants from breakfast, leftover coffee, making tea.

Something to add to the grocery list.

A mess that can wait.

Trying out a new location.

I'm a dork and other revelations

2009-07-14T20:31:00.000-07:00

Last night as I prepared for bed my cell phone fell to the floor and Bill and I started laughing so hard that at least one of us was doing the silent laugh shake. Discovering a hidden phone in my bra wouldn't have been nearly so funny if I hadn't just finished asking Bill if he could look at my computer. Earlier in the evening it had been ringing, "just like a phone".

Sometimes even I worry about me.

A few questions inspired by Sara at Walk Slowly, Live Wildly who got them from this blog.

Outside my window is a very tall and mature tree. It makes it seem like we live in a tree house. And although it does tend to block any kind of breeze I really love the way morning light filters through it perfectly.

I am thinking about painting my toenails. For real tonight as I have accidentally become sidetracked from the task everyday for a week.

I am thankful for all the love and acceptance Bill showers me with--getting to share my life with him is the best thing ever.

From the kitchen I grabbed a rice cake and half an apple (pink lady, my fave!) this afternoon. Quick, easy, gluten-free and partially raw was my initial thought. Then I began to study it and it morphed into crazy woman diet food from 1983 (minus the menthol Virginia Slim). But then I took a shot of green drink that brought me back to reality.

I am wearing black yoga pants and a navy kimono style top left over from my nursing days when stylish = easy access.

I am creating an inhabitable life. That's my general goal at least.

I am going to get out of bed at 6 AM tomorrow morning. Just like I did this morning, and yesterday, and the day before that, and...can you guess what time Asher likes to get up?

I am reading always several books at once. Two of them are: Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert Persig and Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne.

I am praying the words: yes, thank you, kindness, willingness, and Jesus. Most of the time I pray mantras throughout the day--those were the words for today.

I am hearing Asher snoring through the monitor, a train whistling in the distance, and Bill watching TV downstairs.

Around the house are a smattering of toy cars and trucks. They're in every room.

One of my favorite things is shopping for food. I could easily and happily do this everyday.

A few plans for the rest of the week include having a picnic tomorrow night at the farmer's market, preparing for my mother's arrival Thursday evening, (She'll be staying with us while Bill is away at a conference in Malibu. Yeah, that sounds like work to me too.) and researching for a new printer.

Slate Rock

2009-07-13T20:19:00.000-07:00

I'm up in our room--our newly painted room. It's a dark greyish blue which perfects the cave effect :) I've been gradually eschewing TV which is really only noticeable at night when I seem to most lack energy or brain function and have historically allowed TV (and run on sentences) to fill the space. But lately I've been feeling the void of not creating so strongly that not even the TV could numb it away. (Not that I even know what I want to create.) I guess I'm just tired of the nothingness which was lovely for so long but not anymore. Even the facebook thing is getting tired. It's like I go to bed and I wonder what I've done with my life. Or I wake up and I think, "again?". I work, I'm a mother, I'm a wife...each one important...and the mother thing I get that it is ginormous and creative and amazing and a legacy and the pie-in-the-sky kind of everything. I do. I'm just wanting more. And I pretty sure that what I'm wanting more of is more out of me. For me. So here I am showing up. Maybe if I keep coming back what I want to do will make itself known, as I know avoiding the search altogether probably won't get me too far. My evening's companions... Tonight's reads My girl on the red bathrobe that she used to let me use. My boys My babies three

insular us

2009-07-12T21:32:00.000-07:00

Step One: Turn off crackbook. Step Two: whatever, my brain is already mush from the combo of FB/Perez Hilton... Today my little love turned 18 months and I've been looking at pictures from last year all day. Mostly to break my momma heart--but also because I've been such a slacker with putting together his baby album. I have pictures printed up to about three months...uhhhh....yeah, I'm a bit behind. This time last year: Wow he was cute. (Still is--just bigger and faster and goofier. Very, very goofy.) I swear I barely remember last summer. Bill and I both agree it feels like we lost a year Asher's first year of life. Like I can recall what music I was listening to two summers ago--but have no idea if music actually existed last summer. Like maybe the whole world went silent. That's how it kind of feels when I think about his first year--the outside world was silent and it was just us.

fun on Picnik

2009-07-08T13:43:00.001-07:00

Big & Little Bill

2009-07-08T12:18:00.001-07:00

found!

2009-07-03T17:57:00.001-07:00

Me, Mandy, and Glenna looking like we're praying (but not really).

SARK

2009-07-01T11:13:00.000-07:00

Bill made some amazing, no, AMAZING gluten/dairy free muffins yesterday. Seriously. They taste like vanilla cupcakes except they're not and they're supposedly, no, supposedly not so bad for a girl. I had them for dinner last night and again this morning for breakfast. He spoils me so well :)

We had agreed earlier in the week that Wednesday Bill could sleep in and today I could. Good thing because I was up most of the night with some sort of cold/allergy mayhem. It sucked. When I did finally wake up this morning the boys were already out the door leaving me with some unexpected quiet. I'll take it. Again, he really does spoil me well.

Wednesday I had started writing a second post, it goes like this...

More thoughts and a second post for the day.

Yesterday when I was ruminating about my present funk I thought about healing and how we are never truly "healed"--how the process of healing never ends.

Today, as I used my gift of time and space to look for new inspiration I found these words from Sark's book "Transformation Soup":

...This was during a time when all I could do was wake up and eat Fritos. Then I had to complete and turn in more art work. People say to me, "But you've done all this therapy, have a healer, a company, but you are a bestselling author how hard can it be?" What they're really saying is that they hope the pain ends when they get to a certain level. It doesn't. Let's just realize and admit that the pain never ends and go on brilliantly anyway. (126-127)

and a bit later...

Joy is tougher to accept than pain. Isn't that a curious paradox. We are often more comfortable with pain and struggle because it's familiar...I believe that we are so unaccustomed to living in joy that we actually create suffering and wrap it like a familiar cloak around ourselves. We forget that it is our right and privilege to live in a state of joy. Be willing to notice just how much joy you're creating and living with. (127-128)

And then I stopped because all the words I tried to use to explain why it resonated with me sounded forced. Even the picture feels a bit much without some explanation--but I did leave it because a) he's so stinkin cute. and b) because some how the picture does explain what my words could not. Let's see if I can get any closer today... First of all I like how she is talking about the never ending process of healing--which was the exact thought I have been mulling over. When "coincidences" like that happen I tend to perk up and pay attention. Right? And I love it when other humans can just admit to their state of humaness and say something like, "wake up and eat Fritos". Cause who hasn't been there? It's the second paragraph that speaks to me so loudly and yet, maybe feels too close to me to try and unpack its relatedness. The other thought that I have recently been trying to obtain mastery over is "willingness". And there she was also. Right there on page 128. Willingness...she is so slippery. I have learned that I won't find her in the bottle of wine--or a bag of fritos/french fries/popcorn...I actually do realize that she doesn't reside in my coffee cup (but sometimes I still pretend anyway), nor does she come to me from inside another person's willingness. She only sits someplace inside of me--yet I have no clue how to find her on command. Smarter persons have told me, "suit up and show up" and "fake it till you make it" and more often than not these things tend to rouse her from her mysterious depths. More often than not--but not always. Usually this kind of willingness is situational--like the willingness to do the dishes or get dressed for work or pay attention in church (shh, don't tell!). But it is hard to make it apply to life--the willingness to participate in life--which is the challenge for a hermit crab like myself.

I know that on days when I don't think I can possibly participate in anything else related to life if I give myself over to and pay attention to--really, really look at--the smiling boy I live with...observe his sponaneous joy and endless curiosity, still myself to be humbled by his trust, make eye contact, smile back and mean it...on those days she arrives and bowls me over with her might. Willingness to experience the joy I live with? Indeed I am spoiled well.

Willingness to create joy? :) I journey on "brilliantly anyway".

Ordinary Time

2009-07-01T09:27:00.000-07:00

Even Bella is anxious to get started. She has jumped up onto the bed and is yelling at me to hurry up and find her (previously mine) red bathrobe. Hurry, hurry, hurry! Meditate NOW! Get centered--go!

Do you see why I am struggling? My heart is needing to settle but my brain is twirling. It's making for a difficult time. And for that I feel guilt. Lovely, lovely, horribly misplaced and deceitful guilt. Why do I feel so...angst ridden? Right? What right do I have? I have been blessed with health and a healthy family. We are employed. We have a home. We have love and food and friends....I even have the time and space to bemoan all that may or may not be real.

I am at a loss for where this is stemming from and since I don't think I deserve to feel (at this moment) anything other than gratitude--I feel guilt. So freaking dumb. I am befuddled with how everything in life can be going "right" and still feel so hard. Sometimes the motions are hard to enact.

Thank God for Wednesdays. Thank God for gymanstic class and a willing husband. Thank God that on some level I get that it is ok to be stinky and cranky without reason. No one gets to stay on the peak and hang out.

Bella just nipped at me as a reminder that there really is only now. Right now. This moment. The rest can go away.

Breathing.

It's like, when we were away I missed our routines. I missed our everyday. But, like most, something in us shifted while we were elsewhere--so that when we returned, normal also seemed to have shifted. Now the routines aren't feeling authentic--even though they are still "good"--they just aren't fitting right. I'm secretly blaming Bill for shrinking it in the dryer. :)

I think I'm seeking a new inspiration, a new lens with which to view my world. Right now we're in what the liturgical church calls "Ordinary Time". Isn't that boring? We have this whole long stretch until Advent and after that it's just like an inspiration feast all the way till Easter. But now, now it's just ordinary. Regular. Normal. Blah.

At least the girl cat has settled. Sweet Belinda.

incomprehensively good

2009-06-20T19:49:00.000-07:00

This afternoon I was lifting Asher out of his highchair and he burped the loudest, most spontaneous and brief burp I have ever heard emitted and we both instantly fell into heaping laughter. Laughter so hard that he collapsed into me because he had no energy reserves with which to hold himself up. Jiggly, giggly, baby boy whose joy reverbrated against my own. Oh me oh my, this love is deep.

home

2009-06-20T09:20:00.001-07:00

Home at last. We were in Maryland for a little over two weeks and getting home (such a layered word) has proven to be its own journey. But we're back and life--our shared life--has returned. Bella is quite happy :) Us too. We went down to Richmond for a couple of days to visit Beth & Jim. Our Beth & Jim. They're our best besties. We hadn't been back in four years. Unbelievable. It was beyond gorgeous. Beyond-beyond...We love living in CA, we really, really do...but the East is so layered in history that you know, good or bad, has this deepness that envelopes you and I love it. Where we live now? Well, the apartment building we last lived in was historically protected because it was built in the 50's. I kid not. It's just different. I would be remiss if I didn't mention getting to see my beloved friend Margo while in Richmond. Who makes my eyes and heart tear up with the very remembrance...it had been eight years--and it seemed like it was no more than eight days since our last time face to face. We have been blessed with the truest and dearest of friends. You know the kind? The ones who let your heart rest in theirs and see the truest sides of yourself (because it is safe to reveal it) and love them. Wonderful friends. And there were daily thunder showers. And huge green trees that close in the sky and make it small. And it was all very, very good. And family. How we miss them. Being there for three full weekends--its like--it almost started to feel normal to be around everyone again. We had started to settle into it all and the boy baby loved every moment with them. It hurts that he is growing away from family, but it is what it is and all we can do is try to soak in everyone while we're there. We left feeling filled up with love. I hope we managed to leave some of ours behind.

first world problems, pt. 2

2009-05-25T11:39:00.000-07:00

Just keeping perspective... We were trying to be indulgent and hired someone to help us with spring cleaning. They didn't show. We're being forced to clean up our own mess. Always. ho-hum. The reality of groundhog day is still real today.

It's Only Just Begun

2009-05-24T14:21:00.001-07:00

Bill just got home from church--having preached his last sermon for the next three months while he's on sabbatical. He came in, changed his clothes, plopped down on the couch and said, "I don't know what to do now". It's gonna be a very long summer.

first world problems

2009-05-23T14:45:00.000-07:00

I am about to cut a b up for a piece of fruit. we're out, except for bananas, and those don't seem to count today. We went to the farmer's market this morning with the intent of stocking up and then remembered that we're going home next week and bought gifts with our money instead. When we got to the gloriously beautiful and perfect cherries we were down to our last two bucks and they were $3.50 :( I'm so desperate I even attempted to eat the lone last grapefruit leftover from a couple of weeks ago when I was on my grapefruit kick. It had gone bad. woe is me :) How lucky that when Ash wakes we can head to the co-op where we have fresh food. How lucky that we have money to buy it. How lucky that we are healthy enough to consume it. How lucky that we don't even have to think about the option. How lucky to have the luxury of taking it all for granted. It's a pretty good life we get to live.

Wednesday Morning

2009-05-20T08:37:00.000-07:00

Bill just left with Asher for school and the quietness is beginning to settle. Ahhhh...I have retreated to our newly cleaned room with candles, coffee, and the recent discovery of Pandora. Now I just need to cram a week's worth of centering into the next 45 minutes! No pressure :)

A fairly recent favorite pic of Ash & me sleeping.

He really might be one of the sweetest things ever made :)

Last night, as I was rocking him, his head was on my shoulder and he was babbling baby babble. I closed my eyes and tried to lock it away deep enough in my memory so that when I'm an old-old woman I may not remember everyday details--but hopefully I can remember what's important. Getting to be his momma has mattered.

At this very moment Pandora selected Coldplay's "Clocks"...Oh nothing else compares,Oh nothing else compares,And nothing else compares, you...Home, home, where I wanted to go ....

yes.

It's nice to be home. In this head. In this skin. In this life.

All You Need Is Love

2009-05-17T21:29:00.000-07:00

The kids at church sang this today. It was quite amazing. Just think about the Beatles being belted out by two toothless mouths, one loud lisper, a tiara crown, at least three tie-dyed shirts, and 20 beaming faces. We could have just said "amen" afterwards and been done with it. Such a happy song. Bill did a wedding not too long ago where the couple recreated the scene from "Love Actually"--complete w/ instrumentalists hidden in the congregation. I so wish I could have seen that awesomeness. Seems like there was other stuff I was going to write about...drawing a blank now. Must not have been important. ah, amen :)

Brand New Day

2009-05-13T08:44:00.001-07:00

Couldn't find a true video for the song--but needed the song for this post. Mmmm...I'm a little word clogged :) I've known for a couple of weeks that a new computer was on its way and just the idea of having my very own place & space made it next to impossible to put any more thoughts down into the old one. Weird, I know. And then I was tired and not waking early to meditate...and then...and then....

A new day.

Let's listen again.

The sun really is shining :) I'm in the guest bed that sits beside a big window. The blinds are up and all I can see are trees and sky. The girl is beneath my legs--both of us under the covers. Perfect.

I get to see Kay (spiritual director) this afternoon. A good day will get even better because she'll leave me inspired to journey onward towards some new part of myself. A discovery will be made, an aha will be had, and my eyes will see it all anew.

The past few weeks have seemed busy. Now that I think about it I don't think I've had my Wednesday reconnecting time for quite awhile. I'm needing this morning. So what have I been doing? I've been building relationships :) Growing roots and getting connected to this place on earth. It's only taken four years! I'm a slow-mo. I had kind of started building friendships and settling in and then my focus was seriously shifted when Mr. Asher came along. I totally retreated into the bubble of us and became consumed with figuring out who he was--who I was--who we were...I think I've gradually been awaking from this and about the beginning of Lent it was like the doorway to my soul/ my home/ everything were thrown open and I found myself wanting to be out and a part of the bigger picture. And it's just like BAM! I've found relationships--really amazing relationships. I'm feeling a bit more human--a bit more cohesive.

Did I already talk about my soul/ home connection? Here? Can't remember where I wrote about it and am too lazy to go look. It was another Kay inspired thought. It's like we stumble upon some image towards the end of our time together and it sticks in my brain and becomes the symbol of my life for the next however many weeks. I think I was telling her how I was trying to let go of myself and let more of the world in--not hide everything about myself--that I felt more comfortable being known. And she made the anology to my home. How an archetype of the soul is the home (or vice versa, whatever) and that maybe I was both phsysically and spiritually being brought out into the world--leaving the safety of my inner world. It seems simple--it is simple! But for however many weeks now since I saw her last the idea has just multiplied. Anyway, I think I am releasing barriers. A bit scary--but overall really, really freeing.

A brand new day. Today. How lucky.

so freaking happy

2009-05-12T21:16:00.000-07:00

I just got my new laptop--it has been such a very long while since I've had my own. Looking forward to the new exploration it brings.

A Closer Look, pt 4

2009-04-27T19:48:00.000-07:00

Denton, TX,December 31, 1999...Tuxedo party at Mandy & Tracy's. Yes, it was fun...Let's see...what can I safely share... :)
The bottom picture is of me, Jimmy, and Mandy. Love-love this photo. Mandy and I share the same birthday and so often it seems we share the same origin--like our souls came from the same place too. sigh...And Jimmy-Timmy is my love for life. :) So many memories with both of them. Am dreaming of when we can make more. The picture above is of the divine Miss Glenna. I wish it was a picture of her in her amazingly gorgeous dress. Girl sure knows how to get glamorous! Glennie and I met in the 7th grade--the same year she won the "highest hair" contest. ha! She has taught me much and I am so grateful for her. Mandy & Glenna were my bridesmaids and I have a picture somewhere of us holding hands in a circle. It looks like we're praying (which I'm pretty sure we aren't!) but I love the effect none the less. oh :( just remembered it was the last time I saw Mandy :( Ughh! Distance hurts.

What do I remember about that night...I remember missing Bill. We had just been dating about a month and I felt so far away from him while on the trip. I kept sneaking away from the party to call him. I also had my last cigarette that night at midnight. I can hardly believe that I ever used to smoke as I find it so disgusting now. But I did. Everyone did--or so it seems. When I moved to Virginia not so much (at least in the circle I was with--cause hello! VA is the cigarette capitol of the states...) and it just didn't seem to fit into the idea of who I wanted to be when I grew up :) So yeah, that was the last night for that. And now I live in a town where it is against the law to stand still and smoke. Seriously. It's like NO ONE smokes here and when you do see someone it seems very foreign and weird. Oh golly, how things change.

Happy Birthday Grandpa

2009-04-19T13:41:00.000-07:00

I know, the title should be "A Closer Look pt. 3". Pretend. This section of pictures represents some of our familial saints.

Picture One: Arlie Lee Warmack. This picture was taken on Thanksgiving 1990, I was 14. Let alone that this is the last photo we have of him, everything about it melts me. He would be 89 today. Until I met Bill he was the greatest love of my life.

Picture Two: My uncle, Ronald Warmack. He had a lovely voice and loved to sing like Elvis. He died way too young.

Picture Three: My (step) grandmother, Grace Darling Gibson. Isn't that the best name ever? She hated it and so no one knew her middle name until she died. She radiated warmth & love.

Picture Four: Great-great grandparents Gibson. :) I have forgotten their names. I'm pretty sure the grandpa is "Willy". It's a great photo in person because it's been done in that kind of "recoloring" of a black & white so that it looks like cotton candy.

Picture Five: Bill's grandma, Dorris Rehborn, aka: Grammy. She is the heart of his family. She was an amazing (AMAZING) cook and had a great sense of humor. Her favorite show when she died was "Buffy the Vampire Slayer". This picture really represents to me a solidifying of mine and Bill's relationship.

So today is my grandfather's birthday as well as the second anniversary of the day I found out that Mr. Asher was indeed growing in my momma pot. It was a Friday. Bill was out of town but flying home that night.

Insanity. Acceptance. Excitement. Disbelief. Belief. Amazement.

I love liminal moments and getting to be an eye witness to life altering changes. Like at a wedding--in the span of moments two people go from being single to married--it astounds me every time. Anyway...so I picked Bill up from the airport and the whole drive home I was smiling to myself because he had no idea how his life was changing. When we got home he (eventually) saw this:

If my life were really a for real movie (and not just the pseudo one in my head)"The Circle of Life" would have definitely been playing. Pretend.

And, yes, my movie is admittedly cheesy.

Randomness Two

2009-04-18T22:14:00.000-07:00

There has been an internal shift that has been occupying my thoughts. It is nothing short of seismic. Lent really did lead me down a path... I'm writing at night--as in--I am putting together thoughts past 9:00. Wow. Rare. I have a pretty strict 10:30 bedtime, but my two hour nap earlier is probably helping the cause. I'll no doubt pay for it in the morning because there is a certain someone who is up by 6:30 regardless of what time I went to bed :) Bill and Asher are both sick which made for a kind of poopy Saturday. I am currently obsessed with grapefruit. And spinach. I wonder how they would taste combined. Oh, AND this amazing kamut berry salad from the co-op which I'm sure that I could make--but...that takes the fun out of take-out. My little boy is growing dangle legs.

We've had to take the couch pillows down because monkey boy can climb up to the window behind the couch. He has mocked our attempts at control by learning to climb onto the armrest to get to the window.

Oh! Here's a good one. Mind you the boy does not like to chew food--just swallow. He has gotten somewhat better but you can imagine the projectile vomit that has erupted as a result. It isn't pretty. It got so bad that, being a new parent, I convinced myself that there was a blockage in his throat. ahem. The catscan has proven otherwise. ANYWAY, back to not chewing...I have to tear his food up into ridiculously small pieces and then monitor the amount on his tray because if he really likes the food then he will shovel it all in and then have an "oh $#!%" moment when he tries to swallow. He likes string cheese. It is on the Asher approved eating list (which seems to be growing smaller by the day). I mistakenly had the wrapped cheese within his reach. He latched on and I relented. At first he just mimicked the way I tear off pieces. "How cute" I thought. And then he looked at me and shoved the whole stupid hunk into his mouth. I went digging. He bit me. Twice. I managed to retrieve it. He screemed. I quickly tore a bunch of pieces off and put them on his tray. He gave me THE look--the look that I don't think he should know how to use for at least another 12 years--stared straight into my eyes and grabbed as much cheese as would fit into his fist and then PUT HIS ENTIRE FIST IN HIS MOUTH. Apparently I have now been schooled. Or at least schooling has now been attempted, because yes, he did go on to have the requisite "oh $#!%" moment. Internet: I was right.

Resurrection

2009-04-14T20:54:00.000-07:00

On Ash Wednesday Bill and I went on a walk and took pictures of "not yet Spring". A couple of weeks ago we went on the same walk... It has been a full season this season of Lent--and here we are on the other side. Here I am on the other side. The holy one that resides within has indeed returned to life.

blah & meh

2009-03-21T10:10:00.000-07:00

I think the title sums it up nicely. This is the longest I have gone without writing anywhere (blog, journal, other journal...) in a very long time. I wrote in Ash's journal once and that was it. There has been a bit of a disconnect between me and myself--trying to reconnect. Thank God perspective comes with age. Like at other times in my life I think I would have taken the disconnect personally (like it is something that is being done to me) and then really just dwelled in it. I like that I don't have to do that anymore. Now it's much more of a thing to be observed and learned from. Like, "I wonder where this is coming from? What is my lesson?" My spiritual director, Kay, gave me the most transformative words a few months back when an unexpected upset came out of the blue, she said, "Maybe _______ (it's) happening right now because you are stronger and can see something different." Like, the situation didn't occur because I was doing so well and life was trying to beat me down (an old thought) but because I was stronger, could handle the lesson and learn something new to draw me closer to God and be even more free. Me likes this thought. So I'm over here shining some light into some hidden areas in my heart--trying to observe--trying to see if something new needs to occur. Most likely the answer is yes. I knew that Lent wouldn't dissapoint. We're in the middle of the wilderness y'all.

A Closer Look pt. 2

2009-03-08T15:46:00.001-07:00

Picture One: Jarretsville, MD, July 2001. This was taken of my sis-in-law Dawn and me while we were getting ready for her wedding. Dawn calls this her "I love Amy" picture. Who doesn't need one of those? A year later when Bill and I got married the photographer captured an "Amy loves Dawn". True love :)

Picture Two: A B-n-B somewhere in W. VA, Aug 4, 2001. Bill had just asked me to marry him! I love how my ring finger is frozen straight. It stayed that way for about a week because I couldn't quit staring at it and it eventually developed a cramp. So funny. Hands down Bill gave me one of the most romantic proposals in the history of proposals. Of course I said yes.

Picture Three: Richmond, VA, January 2000. Bill and I had been dating a little over a month and Bill's twin Bob and Bob's girlfriend Dawn came down to visit us for the weekend. I fell in love with Bill pretty instanteous, but meeting his family was really about more than my heart could stand. They are so amazing and lovely and FUNNY and if I hadn't already been in love--they definitely would have sealed the deal. So Bob & Dawn are perfect. This picture was taken after we got back from dinner. The boys obviously looks alike because--well--they're twins. But when they came to pick me up Dawn started laughing and pulled open her coat. We were wearing the same outfit. Exactly.

A Closer Look pt. 1

2009-03-08T15:44:00.000-07:00

Picture One: Vail, CO, March 1997. This is me and my first college roommate Katie during our Spring Break trip. I think there were five of us total, or maybe four...hmmmm...anyway, it was (by far)one of the most fun trips I've ever taken. Maybe the most fun...the next year we went to Puerto Viarta, Mexico with like maybe six or seven girls--I'm going to have to go digging through other boxes of photos to refresh my memory. moving on...

Picture Two: Kansas City, KS, May 2002. Bill & me at "first college roomate" Katie's rehearsal dinner. We had been been living in (or should I say, "isolated in") TX since the previous September where we didn't have a social life (not much has changed!). Anyway, we traveled to KC for Katie's wedding and had such a fantastic time surrounded by people our own age. It was definitely the moral booster we needed to finish out the remainder of our year in purgatory.

Picture Three: Richmond, VA, March 2001. The Monument 10K baby. You know it had to have been true love because William inspired me to run. Me, the super non-athlete who never, ever, ever ran a complete mile before (w/out stopping) trained and ran the whole race (w/out stopping!). First and last time :). We called our training sessions "dates" and at the end when we would walk to cool down we held hands and called it "dessert". Isn't new love funny? Oh, and we would always run down this super beautiful tree lined street with old huge houses and daydream about our future. Not a bad way to train for a race! I sure did love falling in love with this man.

Jaws III--I Give

2009-03-07T08:44:00.000-08:00

Bella won. When doesn't she? I finally tired of picking up the daily pile of shredded cardboard and removed the box. Which meant removing the contents from the box. Which means UNPACKING a box. We have moved a trillion times in our relationship. And each time we move out and move in we go through our items purging the things that are taking up unnecessary space. We have given away furniture, clothing, craft items, beauty products, electronics--and the hardest of all--our library of books. And we're freer because of it. But what do you do with memories? We actually have sat down and gone through photos and have managed to throw quite a few away. I know, sacrilege. But some really do have to be kept. And then there are some that really do have to stay in the frame--even if they never are put on a shelf again. Just because. The box that Bella tore into was a box of photos that I presently don't know what to do with. For whatever reason--for many reasons--we haven't yet settled into this home. To be honest, I'm not convinced that it even feels like "home". Home for me still exists in our first place together in Richmond, VA. We had an old apartment on campus with wooden floors and plaster walls, high ceilings and beautiful light. Oh, and did I mention our best friends upstairs? 3401 Brook Rd is still where my heart resides. There have been many moves since then and the place that comes in close second is the apartment we moved out of last spring. It had similar esthetics and we managed to infuse our spirit there. It was where we nested while waiting for Asher and then loved him those first few sacred months of life. Yes, it was definitely a close second. It felt homey and cozy and soulful. And we had our pictures up. Pictures like these... Pictures of people and memories that surrounded us, reminded us, fed us--And I like to believe, blessed us. Blessings that should be unpacked and brought back into our lives.

Reminder to self

2009-03-03T20:52:00.000-08:00

While working at the hospital I met with an Imam who said that when you speak the word "peace" you should do so believing that it is being spread to every molecule touched by the sound.

Jaws II

2009-03-01T20:27:00.000-08:00