Pastor Mark

As mentioned in the previous post, we just finished celebrating our high school youth pastor, Mark, for 20 years at church. I know that so many people who went through youth group have the same things to say, or even more than I do, about how Pastor Mark changed their lives. But while we remembered all of our glory days in high school youth group, I think everyone was giving due credit to Mark, who made a place for us to become who we were, to grow spiritually, and who invested so much into our lives. You have to know the guy to really know how great he is, how he can look at situations differently than anyone else, how he teaches by example and by using your own life, how he speaks truth without judgment.
My husband and I both hold great respect for Pastor Mark, who, in different ways, influenced us and changed our lives. He was part of a healing process for me, and for my husband, he was a friend through a really dark time.
I could never share every memory I have that Mark was responsible for, directly or indirectly. But because I've been thinking about it this weekend, I will share some of my favorites. In no particular order.

1) Driving home from Chicago on the bus, in a construction zone. Mark, deciding to see how close he could get before hitting the cones. (Many of them did not survive).
2) Mexico. 1998. Sand, sun, building houses. I was 16, and I did not sleep more than 3 hours a night the whole week. On the way home Mark told me he would never let me get that little sleep ever again. But he was the only person I ever saw fall asleep while STANDING.
3) Worship time. Our youth group was really into music. By my senior year, we had formed bands that would lead the music time every week. That year, before school started, Mark invited me to discuss how I thought the worship time should look. I remember, we sat in his office eating salsa out of cups (he didn't have any chips), and he listened to me. And I think that was the first time I really felt like an adult valued my opinion. Also, the salsa was really tasty.
4) When I was still really new to the church, they were doing a banquet for the graduating seniors, and I didn't really feel like I was part of the group so I planned to just sit out in my brother's car the whole time. Mark noticed, and sent my brother out to get me to come in. He also invited me to go on their work trip that was coming up. I didn't go, but it just meant a lot to me that he noticed. There were at least fifty other kids in the group, and he had all kinds of other responsibilities, but he noticed me when I was in the loneliest, darkest time of my life. And it made me know, in some small way, that God had not forgotten about me.
5) We were at a youth conference and by the middle of the week, I'd hit my limit of social interaction. I was hauling around a big burden of unforgiveness and confusion from the church my family had left almost two years earlier, and I just wanted to spend the large group session crying. Actually, I did. I went out and sat on the sidewalk alone and cried. When I composed myself, I went back in but I couldn't get to my seat so I stood in the aisle by Mark. He turned to me while everyone else was busy singing, and asked if I wanted to talk. We went into a stair well/landing thing away from the crowd and I cried more and he hugged me and then I told him about how badly I wanted to forgive and how I didn't know how I could. Then we sat on the stairs and he told me his own forgiveness story from his life. And somewhere in the whole exchange, after he prayed for me and gave his advice, something inside of me healed a little. The conference went on and people had their own personal experiences with God, but for me, that day in the stair well was life-changing because it was a huge bend in the road to forgiveness. I don't even know what Mark said exactly. I just remember that he understood and he listened, and no one else had been able to really do that for that particular subject.
6) My wedding. When Daniel and I got engaged, there was no question who we wanted to perform the cerimony for us. We'd met because of Mark (another long story). We'd basically fallen in love in youth group. ANd Mark meant so much to both of us at that time. We were the first couple he married, which I think was pretty cool (he's done a ton of weddings since then). He and his wife mentored us through our premarital counseling, and then he did the most awesome thing a pastor could ever do at a wedding. In his charge to the couple, he made each point an acrostic that spelled Batman. Because he's cool like that.

Annd there are probably a thousand more stories I could tell, but I guess most of them just aren't as interesting to everyone else as they are to me. So I'l leave it at that. And I'll say the cliche, how privilidged I am to know Mark.

This song was in my head this weekend as we reflected on all that he's done in 20 years. It's Cheer Up Church by Charlie Peacock, and some of the words don't really apply (especially the past tense part) but here are the ones that do:

His was a voice, fueld by truth
spoke to us/ of God's love
In a way/ we could understand
and take hold of.
His was a life/ defined by grace
for a time/and for a reason
so we bow/and give thanks to God
for the life/of our brother

Reunion

This last weekend, we celebrated our high school youth pastor's 20th year at the church with a reunion and reminise time for all of the people who had passed through youth group with Pastor Mark. As I wandered around and looked at the pictures of events, all of my peers hanging out together, remembering the hours I spent at church and on trips and retreats, I just felt... happy. They were great memories.
I think with the past, you pick out the best parts and they become sharper in your mind and the bad parts become duller so that you're left with these shining gems that become your memories. Unless you're bitter, and then it probably works the other way. The youth group compartment of my teen memories is full of really wonderful times.
There were tables labeled with each year Mark had been a pastor, filled with pictures and mementos from that year in youth group. I wandered around and purused, remembering. Talent shows, work trips, service activities, friendships, music, joy. And so many moments not caught on film that shaped who I was. SOme of them were hilarious, some tender, some were just part of every day life. Some of them happened when they were supposed to, at a key moment, like a speaker at a retreat or a worship song. Some of them were on the outside, and everyone saw. And some of them were quiet moments that fashioned my heart and drew me closer to God. Conversations with one of the leaders, a lesson about some spiritual principle, or just watching the authentic way people lived their lives in front of me.
So many memories on those tables, and in my own photo albums. So many treasured in my mind, chapters written in those high school years that are part of who I am.
I loved youth group, having spent my freshman year in a not-so-healthy group of people who cared more about their shoes than about the Bible, it was so refreshing to become part of a group who genuinely cared about each other and about their relationships with God. I look back at those times, those three and a half years in youth group with Pastor Mark and the other friends I had (including my husband), and cherish them. I am so thankful God took me to that place. And I'll be thinking about that reunion for a long time, because there was something really special about it.

New Baby!

I don't know if there are readers out there who I don't know in real life, so I figured I should update about the baby. She's one week and one day old today.
The surgery went really smoothly, and I felt great through the whole thing. (Last time I had some pain and then I got a spinal headache which really sucked). The only hiccup was when they did the spinal block, he couldn't get the needle in between the vertabrea because I have a curve, but they fixed that easily by having me sit on a towel to straighten it out.
I cried when the baby came out and I heard her little scream coming from the corner. She was so cute and tiny and I was so relieved that everything had gone smoothly.
She was 7 pounds and 2 ounces and 20 inches long. Born at 7:57 AM
We hadn't nailed down a name yet, so when we got back to the hospital room, we kept trying to figure one out that would work well. We had a lot of different choices we'd been considering, but none of them ended up being the name. THe ones we picked became options just that morning while we'd been in surgery prep.
She's Lois Svetlana
We always liked Lois but we didn't think it worked well with our last name, but then we realized that she's not always going to have this as her last name (probably) and I never cared that much anyway. It means "agreeable" or "desireable" which I thought was fitting for a baby I tried to have for two years. So far, she has been pretty agreeable, too!
Svetlana is a RUssian name that means light. We want her to be a light that draws people to Christ, and brings brightness into the dark world.
And that's how we picked the name. And that's the baby.

December 13th

There are now going to be 3 people in our extended family with December 13th birthdays. My baby being one of them! That's the one nice thing about having to have c-sections. You can know ahead of time. (Although I still secretly hope I'll go into labor on my own. It could happen).
There are still so many things to organize and a lot of things I want to do. Christmas shopping hasn't happened whatsoever (and realistically won't). I need to keep on top of normal house work and school and every day life too. But I don't feel panicked or overwhelmed. At least not yet.
Just sitting around waiting for baby to pop out. (That's what the kids say happens anyway. They have no idea.)
Today I had my third to last OB appointment.
The count down has been going for a week now. Mostly because my hips hurt and I'm tired of having to pee all the time. And I sort of feel like I should be running around and finishing things and panicking. But it's reall all good. Because babies don't need new curtains and clean walls and cupboards or a well-organized routine. They just need Mommies and Daddies and love. And i think I'll be able to pull that off.

My way or the highway--I mean loony bin.

It was supposed to be a great week. I was going to go to Bible study with the kids, then meet a friend to play Scrabble. I was going to get some maternity clothes to fit me for the last three weeks.
Didn't happen.
We were supposed to spend the holiday with my family, and then go out to the farm with the in-laws for the evening and relax and sing and play board games, and do all of the things we usually do. I was going to get in some target practice. I had it all scheduled out in my mind. My cousin and my sister were visiting, and it was all going to play together beautifully. WE were going to take a family picture while we were all together too.
And I was so excited for a friend of mine to join us for THanksgiving at the farm, singing songs and playing games. My kids were going to play with their cousins and the visitors and they'd all get along. My family was going to join us out at the in-laws and hang around for the whole evening and be there with us.
And it turned out OK. There was food. There were songs. (No board games though). The kids sort of played together and I think my friend had a good time even though things were weird. My family left really early. BUt they were there for some of it. I got to visit with a few people. But it was just off. Everything was off. I felt like my head was cut off, to use a familiar phrase involving a chicken...
I was going to go shopping early this morning and find the perfect bedding for my bedroom, which has long been waiting for "grown-up" bedspreads and curtains. I was going to enjoy some time shopping with other ladies in the family and find some Christmas presents.
Due to no one's fault, I didn't find a bedspread I liked, and I ended up not buying anything at all, and aside from a nice lunch together with my cousin and Mother in law, I wouldn't have really missed anything if I hadn't gone in to town to shop today at all.
Wednesday morning Bible study didn't happen because we were at the doctor's office (Third time in two weeks and today made a forth). I got strep last week. Then Wednesday Jayna woke up with a fever and vomiting. We got our antibiotics and we went home and she has been slowly recovering. But not enough that we could really relax on Thanksgiving. I slept on the couch in case she threw up that night before. I was exhausted the next day. The holiday that I love. The day I'd been looking forward to all month. And I had no control over it.
I thought she'd get better, but she spent the evening here at the house with various adults while i tried to enjoy myself at the stranger-than-usual family Thanksgiving.
Then, we made it home late last night, right in time for the eldest to start complaining about an ear ache. And crying. And screaming. And if it weren't for leftover ear drops from her last infection, we would have been at the ER last night. Thankfully we made it through to today.
Anyway, all of that long-windedness is just to say, nothing's gone how I wanted/planned this whole week. And it has me really stressed out. It shouldn't because none of it has been really drastic or catastrophic. But I think that the last month I've been noticing how much I want to control things. I want it my way.
I didn't used to be like that, but I think it's a new way of handling stress. And it's driving me nuts. It's making me unhappy. And I'm sure no one else really likes it either.
I just want to live in peace and be content and not worry about where the towels go or how the laundry is done. But it isn't happening. And sometimes, the more I try to fix it, the worse it gets.
How can I make things go "my way" before I throw someone out the window?
I don't know. I guess it has to do with letting to more, trusting God more, caring about people more. Worrying about meeting needs rather than deadlines and reaching out to others rather than reaching for unrealistic standards. This month, with a new house, has unveiled, somewhere in my heart, a part of me I didn't realize was so consuming. Maybe it's just been growing this time, or maybe it wasn't there before. Or maybe it's been here all along--the desire to control. To have things the way I want them. And it's starting to get ugly, this battle I'm fighting. So I'm going to say it now, hoping it will happen. I'll lay it down and let God be the ruler and the peacemaker and the standard for everything I desire. Because it's more important that my family feels loved than that I get all of the towels folded.

Pregnancy week 32. And other random tidbits I know you were dying to find out about.

We've been here a week and a half. No, I'm not "settled", but at least it doesn't smell as bad, and I kind of like it.
This week has been madness. I've been in town every day, all day. Doing productive things like cleaning up the old house so our renters can move in. In the midst of it all, a horrible cold has stricken our home. Starting with the kids, and now onto me. That's what you get for stretching thin.
Since I'm now 32 weeks pregnant, I get to start, what my doctor labeled "Kristin Fest", which is when I come into the office every week for an ultrasound to make sure my high-risk pregnancy is going all right. I never knew last time around that it wasn't really a blood clot they were worried about (thanks to the nightly injections), but that having Factor V Leiden puts you at risk for pretty much everything else that can go wrong in pregnancy. Preeclampsia, placenta previa, placental abruption, low birth weight, low fluids... whoopie! I'm not worried, though. So far everything has been super smooth. Except for the anemia which there seems to be no good solution for, since I've been taking iron and vit C for four months and nothing's changed. I did add b12 on the advice of my chiropractor which at least helps with the energy level if nothing else.
And I think I remember reading that Factor Five can keep affect your absorption of that vitamin too. So now the list of suppliments I take is two points longer. YOu want to know, don't you?
Vitamin D (was already on that before being pregnant)
Calcium (to help with the Vit D and because my lovenox injections make me not absorb it)
Folic Acid (don't know why but I take a quadruple dose)
VItamin C to help with iron absorption
Iron (double dose)
B12 (also to help with iron absorption)
THat is nine pills every day, on top of two other presciptions that I already had. But it could be worse, right? It can always be worse.

So that's how things are going. People tell me I have a small belly. Every day. I'm really small. I feel like a blimp and I can't carry my own weight up the stairs. I've gained 13 pounds now. Because you wanted to know.
Also, I can't wait to have this baby! Soon I'll be getting the bedroom ready and shopping for things we need.
I'm glad we got to move to a bigger house before the delivery so we can spread out and have some quiet around us. Hopefully everything else settles down soon so we can relax more and enjoy the beauty around us.

Home

Well. We've moved. And I feel like an episode of Green Acres every freaking day. It's good to have space, and it's such a nice old farm house. But... well... it's an old farm house. And I guess any change leaves a person wondering if they made the right choice or if they should have stayed where they were, or at least chosen something else.
That's how I feel about change. I'm buried in boxes and more cupboards than I know what to do with, but I don't have energy for unpacking a ton of things every day because my back gets sore really fast. And I'm afraid to lift too many things or too heavy of things because it gives me contractions. Everyone said being pregnant and moving is a good idea, but I would surely like to have some energy. (I blame a lot of this on being anemic still, despite the stupid suppliments I take every day).
So. Here we are. And this little poem from a mother's day gift we gave my mom 25 years ago has been going through my head: "A house is made of bricks and stone, but a mother's touch makes it home".
This mother... sort of wishes we'd done things the "normal" way, you know. The way the Joneses do. Sell your old house and move into a bigger, newer one. Or build one that's even better.
But we haven't gone that route, and we never have been one of the Jonses so.... here we are. And I'm happy. And I love the space. And the quiet is nice. But it isn't what I'm used to. It will be amazing once I get everything unpacked. It really will. I guess I'm impatient too, along with perpetually discontent.
Maybe I'll never actually be happily content with where I am. But I'd rather take a lesson from my grandma and find peace and joy in every situation. I'd rather just be at home here.

Pinterest and the Devil (yes, they might actually be one in the same).

I'm just going to say it. I hate pinterest with a passion and I don't even use it. I just know all about all of the great ideas in the whole world that I will NEVER have energy or desire to complete.It seems like wherever I go now, people have to tell about the thing they just did or saw on Pintrest. Or what they accomplished and posted to pinterest.
It's a little overwhelming when you know the people around you in your "peer group" are doing these amazing things. Because it's not like it's just one remarkable thing they do. It's those kinds of people who do ALL of the remarkable things, and leave the rest of us boring plain old vanillas with no accomplishments. No, I do not have a clean house. (Actually it is clean, just not tidy or organized). No, I do not plan out a weeks worth of meals from delicious recipes that are "SO EASY" and list forty ingredients and take all day to make. No I don't create beautiful decorations in my home out of recycled trash my neighbor was just getting rid of, or plant flowers in cute old pottery or even plant flowers at all. And the ones I do plant die. No, I do not create elaborate lesson plans to teach my kids preschool and kindergarten. Or schedule great events for them all wrapped around whatever theme we're learning about. I don't schedule things at all. No, I don't keep on top of... anything. No, I don't put together great trendy outfits with clothes I bought on consignment (although I do buy my clothes on consignment). No, I don't sew. No, I don't crochet or knit. No, I don't can or make jelly or freeze meals ahead of time. No, I haven't painted any of the rooms in my house since we moved in. No, I haven't put up little adorable picture frames with pictures of my kids from infancy on. No, I don't have little baskets that I trimmed with ribbon or fabric to store their toys in. No, I don't restore furniture to save money. No, I don't watch the ads for coupons or combine store coupons with manufacturer's coupons and store deals to get hotdogs for 1 cent. No, I don't. No I don't, No I don't. And I don't even WANT to.
So I have no idea why I feel so inadequate that I don't and can't. Maybe I need to stop even listening to women when they talk about their great ideas. Maybe I should just stop talking to women at all. Maybe I'll move out to the woods and live in a camper and for fun we can go hiking and canoeing and hunting. And we'll have horses and goats too. I think that would be a lot more fulfilling.
And while I'm at it, I'll stop shopping at craft stores and department stores and start buying all of my things at Farm and Fleet.Where I mostly will encounter farmers wives and crusty old men who don't care what I look like or how I decorate my house. How do you like that, Pinterest!

Really, I just need to find my identity in what I was made to be, and try to dwell on that instead. Maybe inspiration will hit once I'm done having all of my energy sucked out of me by kids. But if it doesn't, I just have to choose not to believe the devil (who tells me I'm not good enough for Pinterest) and believe what GOd says about me. I know He made and that means I'm cherished. And He's given me great gifts that happen to be different from everyone else's. So I should use those and stop feeling sorry for myself. Tomorrow.
And maybe I'll buy a canoe too. You never know.

Wekk 25

For most people in most pregnancies, it's just another week. Not a milestone. Not a big deal. No appointments.
For me, it's full of anxiety and painful memories. On Thursday it will be over.
I haven't thought as much about that pregnancy this time around. But I went in to the dr. for my appointment, thankful that I could see him this week AND have an ultrasound (they couldn't see the spine last time). I consider it a mercy from God, to set me off into the worst week without wondering if something already went amuck.
It's been good, and the baby is still kicking. This is a very active baby, which is great. Whenever I wonder if things are OK, Baby Bats just kicks or moves. I love it!
Week 25, four days left. After that, I will breathe easier.

The Young Me

We dug out some old stuff of my grandma's when we were up there in Montana last time. One thing we found was a five-year diary from when she was 11-15. It was fun to read through the different activities she did. That woman was pretty freaking amazing. Involved in everything! I loved reading it all. The best entry went something like this (in 1938 when she was 14,  believe): Saw Sam today. My heart fluttered. We went for a ride in his car and he put his arm around me. He told me he loved me. I'm sure it wasn't proper but... then he kissed me. It was swell."

I loved imagining her out there in some old car before it was an old car, with her close friend, dreaming big dreams about the future and letting her red hair fly in the wind. I wish she'd written more. I wish I could have looked through all of her diaries.

It made me wonder about my old journals. I started when i was 12, I think. And for some stupid reason I KEPT all of those things, thinking someone would want to read them some day. I'm thinking that they won't. And i'm thinking I'll die if some people do. Because, let's face it, I was a stupid kid. We all probably were. On the outside we looked normal, but those angsty tweenager thoughts and the following years full of teenage troubles... it's embarrassing, really. If you knew me then, I'm thankful that we're still friends becuase I must have been one very annoying person.

I wonder sometimes if I should burn those bright-eyed dreams written with bic pens between classes (or during them), in the dark nights alone in my room, wondering if anyone loved me, if anyone cared. If I would ever get married. dreaming about my future and all of the things I could be. But I don't want to forget that either. Maybe some day my girls would want to see it. It's not like I had anything to hide. Just a whole lot of angst and questions that no one could answer.

I read some old emails yesterday, and I wanted to shoot that 18-year-old me. Knock myself over the head and say, "it turns out fine! Stop freaking out! And stop being so random! And stop being so... weird."

But I think that I still am that girl sometimes. And sometimes, even though I know how immature and naive I was back then, I wish I could go back. To be the young me again, before I became jaded and cynical about so many things. Before I knew so much about the world. Those troubles made me into who I am, and every joy and sorrow shaped me. So I'll keep the journals for now. but don't go looking for them. They're safely hidden away. Not even my closest friends have seen them. And I plan to keep it that way!

Joy

I found in the darkness
picked you up and called you mine
pressed you there at my heart where the scars grew deepest
and we danced in the moonlight like long-lost friends
in sweet harmony,
with faces turned to heaven
a song of gratitude, sung together.

But the darkness lifts
and life goes on
and finding you here among the mundane isharder
In this day-to-day going and coming--
the rushing moments between here and there
when the heart gets lost among
the ticking clock and
cries for help from others
When true vision circles around but doesn't land,

In a wilderness of sorts, a fighting chance
before all goes dark again
a glimpse
a glimmer
You. Standing there in the thorns of life as I know it,
a peace of heaven,
here amidst the earth
You and your promises
singing to my soul.

Another Pregnancy Post

I know most of my readers don't care about these things, but I feel like writing it, so I'm going to.
people ask how I'm feeling and I always say, "Pretty good. Just a little tired." By tired, I mean some days I can't walk up the stairs without feeling exhsausted. I pant like a fat person on a marathon even from doing something as menial as carrying the laundry across the room!
Also, I fell down twice this weekend. It might be usual clumsiness, but I just don't ever fall down. I think I've fallen four times since I turned 18. Not too bad. Two of them were this weekend. Once in the bowling ally which I should have just been a little more careful when trying to kick JJ's ball down a little faster. The other one wasn't really my fault either. It was on a cement floor at a fast-food restaurant with greasy floors and I had slick shoes on. I'm sure it looked great. But people felt sorry for me, because I was wearing a dress and I was pregnant. My little nephews asked more than once if I was OK. I was OK then, but today I'm sore all over. I'm blaming the pregnancy because I probably could have recovered and not fallen on my tooshy if I hadn't been off balance in the first place.
Also, I gained 5 pounds this week. And I know it was this week alone, because I weigh myself every week and I was sure I would have gained some whiel I was in Montana, since we mostly ate sausage and bacon and fast food things like that. But I didn't gain any there. some how it caught up later. And I shouldn't complain because that's all I've gained in the 23 weeks I've been pregnant. But I was hoping. Oh well.
According to my ultrasound, the baby is doing fine, though, so I can't really complain. And we've procured a bigger place to live in the fall so we can be ready for a bigger family. I have mixed feelings about that, but I'll post on it later. That's all for now.

Harvest of Friends

We received a great shower of blessings last week while I was in Montana. Daniel decided to surprise me by fixing up the front of our house. Let me tell you. It was unbelievable.
He never imagined so many things getting done. Or so many people coming to help! It was a reminder of how blessed we are with these people who like us enough to with these projects that have been hanging over our heads. It was a huge relief for both of us to get it done, and there were so many things that got done!
Paint all around. Sealed up the cracks and crumbles. Filled in holes. New flower beds in the front. Brand new poured cement porch with columns to hold it up and new wood around the roof that covered it. They fixed up the side porch too.
People who we don't talk to that often, long-time friends, and new friends all showed up to help on different days. Daniel spent every day of the week working on the house. My MIL oversaw the things inside of the house and kept it together there. And other family members helped too.
I'm overwhelmed with the blessings, and the house is so beautiful. It reminded me of this episode of Little House on the Prairie, when Charles is sinking into debt over his head with too much work to do, and at the end, all of his friends in the town come to help him shovel grain or something like that, and he realizes how blessed he is.
Anyway, here are a few photos because I know you're dying to see it!

This is the "before" shot. Pretty shoddy. You can't tell from back here, but the whole house was really tired and dark and moldy and cracked.

The sign they made

Daniel made me pose for this, putting down the welcome mat. When I bought it for the old porch, it looked too nice to be there. Now I'd like to get a better one because the porch is almost too nice for that one. :)

They chopped down the pine tree in the front yard. That's our friend Tim way up high after they lopped off the top.

Awwwww.

My super hero, in his element.

More super heroes. These guys are the dynamic duo. (Father-in-law and his brother). They can pretty much do anything.

And this doesn't even do the new look justice. Love the little house!

Lone Prairie

Out here in these Montana hills
where you can see for miles beyond--to where the dusk meets the night
to some solo lights out in the sky
And a man could wander all day
and still not see a soul
stomping through this native grass, bending in the direction of the wind
A thousand miles of wonderful
whispered in the wind
between the blades of beauty
the glowing fields of grain

And this restless soul, searching for peace and meaning
can follow a fence line and soak in that silence
spoken for two hundred years of settlers and homesteads
and these horse-ridden impliments
left to rust in the weather
forgotten by time and technology.
The sound of wild things howling in the night--
of horses and hooves and hammers and plows breaking ground

In this i find something more, something untamed and fierce
a pull to conqur, the ability to try
becokoing me further beyond
to where the morning meets the sky.

Magic Screen

Well, there isn't a lot to tell here. I mean, i could, but you aren't supposed to post vacations on the internet until you get home. Even though my husband is actually still home so there wouldn't be a chance for you burglers to get in and pillage.
A couple of weeks ago, when i was put off with mass communication in general, and more specifically facebook politics, I was sitting on the couch, doing something I find to be pretty relaxing, challenging and sort of stressful all at the same time. Drawing on the Etch-a-Sketch.
And then it turned into this idea. And this is what it looks like. I plan to update it more often than I update this one, since I seem to be losing fire with this one.

In the Quiet Hours

There are things that happen at night that just don't happen as well during the day. i'm not sure if it's just distractions and worries that get in the way during daylight, when you feel like you have to concur these projects and make yourself look productive. Or if it's just because it's louder during the day.
At night, as the darkness covers over the things you didn't finish, and the stillness sets in, when the kids have gone to bed and the dishes are washed or forgotten, and you have the TV off and you're ready for your last evening snack. that's when things get good.
I love having late-night conversations. I didn't really know that about myself, although I've always had my best talks with best friends late at night. There's just something different about it. Like here, where I am now, when we've been together all day *doing* things, and then we finally have some time to just sit back and visit, country style, that's when the good talking starts. It begins with something somewhat shallow, like politics or the state of the world, or your favorite hobby. And slowly, as the hours get longer and more people drop off to sleep, the subject matter becomes deeper. And even if it doesn't, it feels like it does. It feels like you know each other better and you can finally say the things you want to say.
Maybe it's just from being around each other all day. Maybe it takes that long to warm up. And maybe it's just how I feel. Maybe it's the mellow night sounds around, and the end of the day feelings, and just the way conversations work. Or maybe it's the quiet that comes most every night that we ignore by tuning in to blue screens and work. I think I want to embrace those quiet hours better, make more of them, before it's too late and I'm old and don't know my friends anymore.

Do you ever feel like every time you open your mouth you say the wrong thing? Or that your opinion offends people?
I've been feeling like that lately and I'm not even sure how to fix that. I can't help but have opinions.
But maybe it's time to shut up more.
I really don't know. When is truth offensive because it's truth, and when is it offensive because a person doesn't want to hear it? How can I draw the distinction, pleasing God and not pissing people off?
Sometimes I sort of want to just piss people off. I'm really funny when I'm mad.

MIA.

I've been MIA for a while, I know. I've pretty much felt like crap for the last 9 weeks or so. I pretty much hate those people who never have morning sickness when they're pregnant and really just go through the whole shebang without any complications.
I'm a walking complication, and it's kind of wearing me out.
Being pregnant is great, and I'm really happy though. I'm sorry if you hate it when people talk about pregnancy. I used to always hate it too and now I can't help it.
But anyway, we've been busy. First there was this wedding which sucked up a week or so which was fine. Then we had theatrical camp, two weeks spending every morning at church. Then we did something else, I don't remember what. I spent most of that time lying on the couch wishing for sweet death. Then just when I started to feel better, I began to display symptoms of anemia, which basically meant i didn't have any energy to do anything all day. That's a little better now. Just in time for swimming lessons! So we have 2 weeks of doing that every day.
Then I think it might settle down. Except it won't. Because we're doing these remodeling projects, like always, and hoping to MOVE out of this cracker box into something with a little more space. Otherwise we're going to have to eliminate half of our junk and buy a bunch of stuff at Ikea to make room. I'm hoping we just move.
So that's what's new. I need a nap.

Summer Sweetness

There's really nothing like being a kid in the summer. I lived on a farm for my happy childhood, so summers were pretty much the height of everything (we did not work the farm; just rented the house from a farmer). Barefoot days were spent running around in the yard and by the creek, picking dandilions, running through the sprinkler, climbing trees, and digging holes.

We just finished a fairly untimely heat wave, which reminded me about my happy childhood nights. Once or twice a week, we'd have a camp fire out in the grove and we'd roast marshmallows with my dad. Usually when the sun first started setting, we'd go out to the garden with him and do some weeding and watering. I remember one time we picked these huge tomatoes. I'd never seen such big ones before. Probably not since, either, at least not in my mind's eye.

When it was hot out, we had this water trough-turned-wading pool (it was bought for that purpose and never used for animals), that we'd spend hours in. We played the stupidest games, but it was always so fun. Other water games we played included running through the sprinker, "recycling", which was some version of pouring buckets of water into smaller buckets and through an old drain pipe and then doing it all over again, and "The Big Bazooka", which involved my older brothertying up an old bike inner tube on one end, filing it beyond capacity with water, and then the three of us hiking it up over our shoulders and parading around the yard while JOnathan decided which things to spray it at.

We went to the library a lot. Mom tried to give us some designated reading time (she called it DRAT because she was funny like that), so we'd do the reading program at the library. On really hot days, she'd check out the Star Wars trilogy or rent some Little Rascals movies from the rental store in town, and we'd spend the day inside watching those.

Most nights I slept in my rosebud wallpapered room with a nightgown and a white fan blowing on my face, with the windows wide open letting in the cooler breeze and sounds of crickets. But sometimes, it was just too hot in that old farm house. Sometimes we had these magical nights when we got to camp out in the living room with that window unit on. That is one of my favorite memories of the summers in Swisher. My mom had her own air conditioner in her bedroom window, but us kids would take our blankets and pillows downstairs, and make ourselves a comfortable corner to sleep in. I used to pretend I was camping, because I thought camping was the coolest possible thing back then.

I love those memories, those special times when the whole family was together, working and enjoying each others' company. Mom, thinking of fun things for us to do, trying to get us to read more, and putting up with wet feet tracking grass clippings through the house. Dad, tending the garden, filling the pool, coming home to his wild brood doubtlessly covered in dirt from the day. Me, Jonathan and David (and later Baby Anna), making the most of those sun-kissed days and the freedom to ride our bikes and dig holes and waste water and be kids. I'll never forget it. I'll treasure it all my life. And hopefully my kids will feel the same way about their summers when they look back.

Baby Boom

The last year has been full of people announcing pregnancies and having babies. I guess it's kind of like that year when we had a wedding every other weekend all summer. Just the age we're at right now. People have babies. But for the last year it was kind of disappointing for me too.
It never took very long to make babies before, but this time, when I REALLY wanted it, it just didn't happen. It was two years of actually trying, and one year of trying harder, with nothing to show but more mysteries and things the doctors didn't know what to do about. That's a frustrating place to be.
I guess it was so that I could have more grace with those obsessive people who really want to be pregnant adn can't just let go of it until it happens. I've never really understood that. I still don't really understand it. But I do understand wishing so hard and dreaming about that soft skin and tiny smiles and wondering if it's ever going to happen, and wondering if my body is broken beyond repair.
There's been a little wave among the people I hang out with, of pregnancy announcements. Mostly people having their seconds or thirds.
This time I was among them! With my other pregnancies I happened to be one of the few who had a baby at that time. I know. This is really interesting to most of you. So my kids are stuck between two big waves of summer babies and I didn't get to be pregnant with most of my friends. But this time, there are lots o' bellies running around in my circles of friends. I think it will be fun.
So, in the spirit of "What to Expect when You're Expecting" book, I will now answer the questions I know you all are thinking.

Q: When are you due?
I guessed December 20th as my due date, and then I had an ultrasound that confirmed it to the day! It happens to be my dad's birthday (and the day after my father-in-law's birthday).

Q: Are you going to find out what you're having?
No. well, I mean, we assume it's a baby. The gender will be a surprise. (But we both want a boy and so do the kids).

Q: Are the kids excited?
Unbelievably. For two little girls who play baby dolls all day, or pretend that they are babies, it's a dream come true.

Q: You had to take medication last time for something, right? Do you have to again?
I'm taking lovonox (blood thinner) injections every day along with 4 doses of folic acid. Otherwise it's just the normals. The injections aren't going that smoothly yet but hopefully I'll get into the swing of things sooner or later. They've just been kind of painful and left bruises. Nothing new for some folks. I'm a wimp.

Q: Is it going to be a C-section? 
Yes. After two other c's, I doubt the doctor would be convinced to do anything else. Plus, I am more at risk of bleeding to death in the case of a rupture because of the blood thinners.

Q: How are you feeling?
Pretty crappy, thanks for asking. I'm 12 weeks now and I've been feeling a little less nauseated, but this has been the worst time around by far. No vomiting, just lots of wishing I could. Also, I'm not super tired unless I don't sleep well, which is happening more than I want thanks to some kids.

Well, that's all for now folks! I'll update periodically, and I'm sorry for those of you who hate this kind of stuff. I would have made a seperate blog but I figured no one would read that one anyway, and I don't want to have to spread myself out that thin.