Craving: Salt

Lately, I've been thnking about You
And lately, I've been dreaming of You
And lately, I can't get You out of my head
Get You out of my head

Something about the ocean
Makes me rise up and praise
Something about the heavens
Makes me stand in awe again
Something about the sunrise
Reminds me of Your faithfulness
Something about the ocean
And I'm lost in love again

I'll sing until I sense a smile
Upon Your great and lovely face
And till I know Your glory's in this place



Your glory's in this place.


(Ocean, Ten Shekel Shirt)

Spring?

The sun has been shining for several consecutive days, and people around here are noticing. Actually, people noticed when the sun first was out for about 10 minutes. They all went outside and clogged up the local parks and playgrounds and sidewalks. I know this because I was downtown when it happened and almost ran over at least a dozen people who were walking across streets not using the crosswalks and looking up at the sky with big toothy smiles. We were getting gas last weekend and the guy getting gas next to us was exuberantly exclaiming, "Isn't it beautiful out?" And Nathan, just as equally excited, proceeded to chit chat with him about just how amazingly great it really was.
And then, at the drive through coffee place, the menu board was featuring iced coffees with smiling suns and happy faces drawn all over.
This is what happens when the spring sneaks out in the Great Pacific North West. The sun shines and seasonal Depression is instantly erased and that thing where people must wear their Birkenstock sandals with wool socks starts to happen.
Seriously, I love it here.

Our Week in Pictures:

There was some unhappiness this week.

And some fun times too.

We had to do some things we didn't really want to do.

But we found solace in good friends.

And it'll all work out in the end.

Happy Friday!

An Exhale

Growing up I always knew it was the weekend by the music my Dad would have playing on the living room stereo. I'm not sure if these were attempts by him to get me out of bed in the morning, or if he just simply longed to hear a tune as he watched the sun rise. His collection of records and CDs have always been very eclectic, and meant waking some mornings to the bellowing voice of Pavarotti, and on others to the clang of a banjo and the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. As a teenager this was at times maddening, but secretly, I loved it all too. Music became an essential part of life and I see it now as a way to bring warmth to a home. A fire in the fireplace and a sonnet on the stereo and my heart is warm.

So when Nathan came home with a new mandolin for me the other day, in the middle of all my angst and worrying, he unlocked something in me I had presently forgotten.

I don't really know how to play the mandolin, but the fingering is the same as the violin, and I've snatched up every book I've come across. Last night, as I tried not to worry about my job, my fingers began to remember long forgotten tunes. I played some old violin pieces from high school and university – bits of Bach and pieces of Vivaldi, a few little things we would play for people’s weddings. I plinked around on that mandolin until my finger tips were burning - that sort of raw ache that only fretted instruments can employ. I'm struggling with strumming it, in the tremolo style, as it is totally different than playing with a bow, but I love it. I love the way the notes ring and hold their place in the air. Like a soft exhale.
A release of something sweet within.

Bach, Winter
by Jane Mead

Bach must have known
how something flutters away
when you turn to face the face
you caught sideways in a mirror
in a hall at dusk
and how the smell of apples
in a bowl can stop the heart
from beating, for an instant,
between sink and stove
in the dead of winter when stars
of ice have spread
across the windows and everything
is perfectly still
until you catch the sound
of something lost and shy
beating its wings
against those darkening stars.
And then: music.

Processing

It's probably best if you don't read this blog post today, since I am in the midst of trying to process some big things, and well, as this is my best processing tool at the moment, I don't promise this post to be of any worth to anyone but myself.
Perhaps instead of reading, you could go here, and visit something of more entertaining value.
Best of luck, check back tomorrow.
******************************
I hate to whine, and I hate to read other people who whine publicly, but damn. Today has been hard. Today sucks the way a sucker punch to the gut sucks. It sucks the way that being caught off guard and unaware sucks. And those tears that well up behind your eyes and try very hard to come out while the whole world is watching, I pretty much hate them too. Even though I had a feeling things were changing, I had no idea it was so big and so vast. When I was talking with God the other day and said that everything was changing and that is OK, I didn't really have a handle on how inclusive the word "everything" was going to be. Hello, I would like to re-introduce myself to you, I am apparently a person who hates change.
So, hello!
We are moving soon, back with my parents for a year, to eliminate all our debt and sock away some savings. It's exciting in that we have this great opportunity to save lots of money and get closer to our future goals. But it's hard in that we have made the place we are now our home. It's never easy to leave your home. As I pack boxes I find myself looking at the walls remembering all the living we have done in them. Our neighbors are amazing, and we have grown to love them, and the overall feeling of just how much we have let our roots sink in here is slightly overwhelming.
And then the job stuff. I'm still trying to figure out all of that, but it is pretty much for sure that I won't be doing what I am doing now anymore. I'll probably pack up my desk tomorrow. And that's a hard truth to swallow.
There are other changes too, and I can't help but remember that not that long ago I had asked God, (in frustration of course) to let me know where it was that I was supposed to go. I felt unmotivated and stagnant and I asked Him if this was where He intended me to be in my life and if not, if He could make it clear to me where it is I am supposed to go, and who I am supposed to be. For me, it's easy to forget how real and involved God is in my life. Sometimes I get so focused on God being in other people's lives and changes, that when I finally decide to relinquish control, I am shell shocked with the changes God almost instantly makes.
I guess it is all just a part of the process of God turning my life from a scarf into a sweater. Only I had decided that I liked the scarf just fine.
I used to have this dream of going to Maine or Alaska (seriously, don't ask why) for a summer and renting a place, just to write. And maybe eat lobster and crab. Only I never went because I didn't want to leave my nice secure fun job.
Should I book some tickets?

A Treasure Lost a Treasure Found

Sitting on my desk in a neat little stack are two Microsoft Excel guidebooks. They appear to be further proof of my impending job shuffling. Shuffling, changing, morphing, reworking, something. I am sad about it, but not all that worried either. It will work out and in the end I'll get to pick up some data base knowledge and PSM. And because really, who wants to hear me whine?
For real though, I heard my boss mention that it might only be for six months, and I can do this for six months no problem. A year was questionable. I had some fear of getting lost in the shuffle, and never resurfacing back in Industrial Hygiene, but six months, that's a done deal. Simon won't even be two yet. That's a proverbial blink of an eye.
Speaking of the boy, he is officially a walker now. What he lacked in speed last week he has picked up this week, and he is everywhere. During my World's Fastest Shower yesterday, I had him in the bathroom with me and kept the curtain open so I could see what he was up to. In the time it took for me to rinse out my hair he had unrolled the roll of toilet paper, dumped the contents of the garbage can onto the floor and had flushed the toilet three times (rendering the water ice cold). All while on his own two feet.
While he was busy in the bathroom Zoe was busy with her new fascination - rock coloring.
I have no idea where she picked this up, but there is not a rock that she encounters that she doesn't "adopt" and bring home to color. She's not technically supposed to use her pens with out supervision (long story involving her walls, bed, sheets, clothes, face, hair, toys, dog, couch, carpet and anything that isn't paper), but I'm a softy and let it slide this time (don't tell). Upon exiting my shower though, I observed her working away on a big flat rock rather diligently. So diligently in fact, that she forgot that she had let the dog out to go potty and left the porch door wide open. Our Neville made his 3,908,458th escape. Through her tears she explained to me,
"But mommmyyyyeee, I was just decorating this rock for you. See?"
And sure enough, it read:
"Ths rok is for Mom.
Do
U
Wot
To
Go
JeO
Kashn"

Just like that.
(Translation: This rock is for Mom. Do you want to go Geocaching?).

So of course, I bundled up the boy, grabbed the leash for our long lost Devil Dog, and we went geocaching and dog hunting all at the same time. Let's just say that some treasures we found that morning were more valuable than others.

Eat, Pray, Love and Thank God it's Friday

It's as if the world opened up and ate up all the Friday's (particularly the Friday afternoon's nearing four PM), and left me languishing in a relentless Thursday.
This week just would not end. Did you all sense that too?
But now it finally has, and hooray!
So my list of things to do this weekend started out a bit adventurous and contained things like "visit Italy and eat some pizza," but then got downgraded a bit to "take the family to the Olympic Game Farm." Even that though, after consulting our bank account and acknowledging the four hour drive (each way), got vetoed.
I think I am craving some adventure. Some unplanned and seat of our pants sort of thing. Things we used to do before I became so concerned with house cleanliness and other time consuming, weekend killing things.
Instead of great adventure though, I have settled on doing some packing (we are moving in a few weeks after all) and finish reading "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert.
This book is probably what has me craving adventure anyways, best get through it and move on to something more practicle like "How to Become a Millionaire in 90 Days." Or something.
It seems to be the book of the moment right now, and nearly every blog I visit has mentioned reading it, or having read it, or having seen numerous people reading it.
I'm at the bit where Elizabeth is in Italy (the "Eat" section, of course) and I suspect she is almost about to head out to India where I hope to be inspired for the "Pray" section of her book, because I seriously can't stop thinking about the pizza she described in the beginning. It has been the sole reason for our pizza eating not once, but three times in the last week.
Not that anyone was complaining around here.

Like You.

(A Valentine for my beloved).

Yes

by William Stafford



It could happen anytime, tornado,

earthquake, Armageddon. It could happen.

Or sunshine, love, salvation.



It could, you know. That's why we wake

and look out - no guarantees

in this life.



But some bonuses, like morning,

like right now, like noon,

Like evening.

Caught Blue Handed

I was sitting in the living room trying to update the TaxCut program so we could finally file our taxes. Zoe was working on a dot to dot workbook at the dining room table. Simon, well, Simon was crawling/walking around with his giant truck toy, or so I thought. 

After a few seconds of the 'all telling too quietness' I got up from the couch to investigate. 

I give you exhibit A:

 

 

This is the cutting board on which I had placed a large ziplock baggie of blueberry muffins. Simon had enjoyed one for breakfast just a few hours earlier. They appear to be gone without a trace.

 

 

Could this be the handy work of Neville the Devil? Surely the cutting board is far too high for a dog to jump up to. At least, a dog with the stature of Neville. 

Examine, if you will, Exhibit B:

 

 

Well, who do we have here?! It's Sneaky Simon, in the kitchen, with his teeth. Taller than we had thought he was, although we knew he was getting close to reaching the counters.

 

There's Zoe in the background, proclaiming her innocence. Would you believe he ate the paper wrappers and all five muffins?

Check Back in Three Months

I had to run to the grocery store on my lunch break to deposit my paycheck into our grocery store bank branch, and while I was there I grabbed some questionable Chinese lunch. Sometimes the only reason I get questionable Chinese lunches is for the fortune cookies. I always sneak two. There is something irresistible about fortune cookies to me, and one is never enough.

The first one today read:You will make many changes before settling satisfactorily.

In light of all the uncertainty in my job lately, I was a little less than pleased to read that one.
Screw changes, I say.

And then fortune number two:Remember three months from this date. Good things are in store for you.

Hmmm...

Boy eats, and boy does he...

I know I have mentioned this before, but I was just going through some pictures and noticed that the majority of the shots of our baby boy consist of him devouring food.


This is significantly different behavior than that of our girls. In fact, we have a little video we made of Zoe's first nine months of life, and in it there is not much eating. Instead, in every shot she is crying. Always. And holding her are two strange looking zombies that I presume are Nathan and me, but it's hard to tell.


You would have never guessed it, but the first nine months of Simon's life he wasn't even on the doctor's growth chart for weight. After he was born he went right down to the "less than 3%" margin, which means (in doctor language) that he weighed as much or more than 3 percent of the US population of babies his age. We weren't worried at first because I was breastfeeding him and pumping and we could see that he was getting plenty to eat and he was growing just fine as far as head circumference and height. Developmentally he was on track too, moving around and cooing and smacking and kicking and pretty much driving us nuts. But when the doctor finally suggested at nine months that we should think about switching to formula we were finally thinking it might be a good idea too (maybe that's what he needs to sleep through the night?). So we did. And we also started feeding him more of what we were eating. He liked the canned baby food just fine (except for the veal which he protested with dramatic gagging noises as soon as it hit his tongue) but when we gave him pieces of what we were eating he was in heaven.



You see, Nathan is the chef in our house. If the cooking was left up to me we would have tacos or eggo waffles every night for dinner. With Nathan we get to have things like Pad Thai or green curry and unagi. He cooks us up carna asada, grilled cajun steak, whiskey crab soup, Guinness stew, chicken polenta, and coconut shrimp. He has a knack for all things culinary and it is a wonderful thing to be his non-cooking wife. It was really with the addition of Nathan supplied food that the fattening of Simon began. Four months later, we have a boy who loves food, and therefore, must eat at all times. If he sees Nathan in the kitchen, he must be poised in his high chair, ready for samples.

He eats and eats and eats and eats. We discovered he really really loves food if we let him try to feed it to himself. This includes things like soups, and yet excludes things like spoons. So naturally eating time is also natural disaster time followed closely by scrub the baby bath time.

It's all good though. And we don't really fear him getting too fat or anything, all our kids seem to be a special kind of skinny. The girls eat plenty, it just has to be EXACTLY what they want, and no mysterious green things or black things or really any mysterious things mixed in at all.

So basically they eat pizza with cheese or pepperoni and waffles. I could have kept them sustained just fine on my own. But now Nathan gets to feed someone his food and he doesn't have to explain what all the ingredients are and how they actually are yummy and stop-picking-just EAT YOUR DINNER.

All done.

Cuteness

Above, in my attemt to have you all die of cuteness overload, is a recent pic of our tough boy napping. He's clothed in his Bono ONE Campaign T-shirt, rugged cargo pants and his fancy new pacifier chain. Nathan got that for him after we lost the one billionth pacifier (neccesary life sustaining object that it is) and decided that the Disney decorated velcro variety of pacifier attachers simply were not cool enough.

And secretly, don't you just want to stick your finger in that bellybutton?

Should Have Waited

So of course, we ended up having our night away and went out for a delicious dinner with family and friends. My job status is still unknown, and I might get to know more today, but I'm trying not to worry about it too much (she said through clenched teeth). But, also of course, the kids are all sick (all three!) and Nathan too and this morning I woke up teetering on the edge of this cold. So you take the good with the bad and drink lots of Red Zinger and if a nasty cold is the worst thing this week doles out I will be one happy girl.

Unraveling a Scarf to Knit a Sweater

It's been a hard and lonely week.
It began with a flat tire on the way to work. It became painful with a fall down icy steps, x-rays of my bionic spine, and a purse load of prescriptions. Continuing, it cumulated with a sick husband and feverish daughter. Continuing still, tt became panicky and shocking with the possible ending of a much loved job. Finally, it left me defeated with the cancellation of weekend plans for a getaway and heartbroken by the loss of a best friend moving out of state. Oh, and somewhere in there I turned 27 with no hurrah or cake.
So, I was thinking about all of this and feeling mighty sorry for myself, because really, I am pretty good at it. I thought,
Self: This sucks.
Me: Ya, I noticed.
Self: What are you going to do? I'm pretty sure you can't fix all these things.
Me: I don't know, I mean soon everyone's colds will go away and we'll all feel better, but the job thing? I love my job...I just figured I would do it until I died or something, you know? And the weekend away? We both know that once cancelled there is a 99.987% chance that it will never get planned again. And Amanda (moving to Oregon), maybe I can just cry and tell her not to go and she will stay? And maybe, just maybe Nathan will feel bad about my lack of a birthday and I will come home tonight to something fabulous, like diamonds, or cake so huge all my friends jump out of it?
Self: You are pathetic.
Me: Thanks, I feel pathetic.
These conversations never work out all that well for me.
These conversations tend to go a lot better when I spend them talking with God.
So I gave that a go this morning, and you know what? God answered me in the same way he usually answers me.
He said WAIT.
Which I knew all along was what he was going to say, because he has that way of letting his heart be known to you, before you really even ask, and quite honestly, he tells me to slow down and wait more often than I care to admit. And darn if he isn't always right.
I was reminded that the life I had been creating for myself was just fine, with lots of the right elements in it, but really it was like me knitting a scarf. A nice colorful scarf with pretty yarn, but I already had a closet jammed full of scarves. The whole world is full of nice and boring scarves. What I really need is something that fits me better, something designed just for me. And God never asks us to unravel a scarf with out the plans of helping us make a beautiful sweater. We are never asked to leave a life we like just fine to go to a life we will hate, we are supposed to go to something even better. Sometimes we just have to pull the string and undo everything and just start over. And sometimes we have to take a pause and listen to the direction that we are being called to and then go without hesitation.
And that's called faith.