Please keep our upcoming trip in your prayers. We are hoping that Redoubt will let us fly (and come home!!), but there are no guarantees. In any case, it's in God's hands and I am trying not to stress.
On a much more positive note, Megan pooped in the potty today! We are very excited. Hopefully, this means the beginning of the end of the madness of potty training.
Marina weighed in at 19 pounds yesterday at the doctor, and 27 1/2 inches long. She's a big girl!
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Update
So it's been a few days since I posted much about our daily goings on. There have been a few! I'll try and hit the highlights.
REDOUBT: It's been erupting like mad the last few days--I think at one point there were something like four eruptions in eight hours. It has shut down lots of air traffic and made a lot of people stranded in various places. We have only gotten ash once, and that was last night. It started falling during Vespers. Anchorage got a ton, but we only got a light dusting in Eagle River. The air smelled gross though--you could tell there was lots of sulfur. In any case, Redoubt seems to have quieted down for the time being. I'm hoping and praying that we are able to take our trip this Friday!
MEGAN: Ah, Megan. My dear sweet little girl who is growing up before my eyes. She had her first sleepover last night, and spent the night with Grandma and Grandpa in Wasilla. I will admit, it was tough for me! She had a blast, though. She called her Dad and I last night to say goodnight, and we got a kick out of that. This morning, she called to say good morning, but Daddy was already at church. So she and I chatted for a little while. My Mom told me that on the way to church, Megan told her to turn around. "Grandma, go back to the house! We forgot my Mommy!" What a sweetie.
MARINA: My other sweet little girl who is growing up so fast! Marina sits up now, and does pretty well at it. She also gets up on her hands and knees, and rocks back and forth. All my parenting books say that this is a good precursor to crawling, so we're expecting that milestone soon. Yesterday, she got up on her hands and tippie toes with her little tushy stuck high up in the air. It was pretty cute. She's also eating like a champion now. No surprise that we weighed her on my Dad's new scale at the bakery and she is 20 pounds. She has a check-up tomorrow, so we'll get an official weight and height, as well as a few shots in those chubby little legs. I hate that part.
AND THE REST OF THE STORY.... Well, we're gearing up for what promises to be a busy week. I have casseroles to bake, and a big specialty cake order at the bakery on Thursday. Then Friday, God willing and Redoubt permitting, we are boarding the airplane that Megan has been talking about for months! On our way to see Fr. Stephen and Nancy Lourie, the Howells, Barb Surrett, and Dn. John's parents, in that order. And all in eight days! It's going to be jam packed, but oh so much fun. Please add our plans to your prayer list, that the volcano will cooperate!
REDOUBT: It's been erupting like mad the last few days--I think at one point there were something like four eruptions in eight hours. It has shut down lots of air traffic and made a lot of people stranded in various places. We have only gotten ash once, and that was last night. It started falling during Vespers. Anchorage got a ton, but we only got a light dusting in Eagle River. The air smelled gross though--you could tell there was lots of sulfur. In any case, Redoubt seems to have quieted down for the time being. I'm hoping and praying that we are able to take our trip this Friday!
MEGAN: Ah, Megan. My dear sweet little girl who is growing up before my eyes. She had her first sleepover last night, and spent the night with Grandma and Grandpa in Wasilla. I will admit, it was tough for me! She had a blast, though. She called her Dad and I last night to say goodnight, and we got a kick out of that. This morning, she called to say good morning, but Daddy was already at church. So she and I chatted for a little while. My Mom told me that on the way to church, Megan told her to turn around. "Grandma, go back to the house! We forgot my Mommy!" What a sweetie.
MARINA: My other sweet little girl who is growing up so fast! Marina sits up now, and does pretty well at it. She also gets up on her hands and knees, and rocks back and forth. All my parenting books say that this is a good precursor to crawling, so we're expecting that milestone soon. Yesterday, she got up on her hands and tippie toes with her little tushy stuck high up in the air. It was pretty cute. She's also eating like a champion now. No surprise that we weighed her on my Dad's new scale at the bakery and she is 20 pounds. She has a check-up tomorrow, so we'll get an official weight and height, as well as a few shots in those chubby little legs. I hate that part.
AND THE REST OF THE STORY.... Well, we're gearing up for what promises to be a busy week. I have casseroles to bake, and a big specialty cake order at the bakery on Thursday. Then Friday, God willing and Redoubt permitting, we are boarding the airplane that Megan has been talking about for months! On our way to see Fr. Stephen and Nancy Lourie, the Howells, Barb Surrett, and Dn. John's parents, in that order. And all in eight days! It's going to be jam packed, but oh so much fun. Please add our plans to your prayer list, that the volcano will cooperate!
Friday, March 27, 2009
Things that made me laugh today.
Some people are like slinkies--useless, but lots of fun to watch when you push them down the stairs.
When I think back on all the arguments my wife and I have had, I realize how silly most of them were. And it makes me wonder why she wanted to argue about such stupid things. I think I'll go ask her.
Message to the New President
By Jack Handey
DEAR MISTER PRESIDENT: Congratulations on winning the election. I always knew you would win, and not that other guy. I told all my friends that. You can ask them.
Mister President, let's get down to business. One of your first jobs, and most important jobs, will be to appoint ambassadors to other countries. I am pleased to inform you that I am available to become your ambassador to any of the following countries:
HAWAII—This is one of my favorite countries. But there is a problem here: The people worship volcanoes. One of my first actions, Mister President, would be to outlaw this practice. At first the people might resist, but later they would get down on their knees and thank their lucky stars.
BRAZIL—The name of this country gave us the words "bra" and "zillion." Also, it is home to the Brazil nut. My goal, Mister President, would be to eat as many Brazil nuts as I could, day in and day out. Then I would invite my friend Don to come visit me. He is deathly allergic to Brazil nuts. The hope is that just by shaking his hand, I could make him pass out. Some people say this is a long shot. But what's the alternative? Unfortunately, I believe, it's global warming.
FRANCE—As you are probably aware, Mister President, there is a place in France where the women wear no pants. This is a disgrace. Also, there is a region of France called "Champagne." The idea of women with no pants drinking Champagne is one which I would make my top priority.
VATICAN CITY—I'll be honest, Mister President: I would love to ride in the Popemobile. Riding behind that protective glass, making obscene, taunting gestures at my friends while they fired bullets at me, would be the spiritual highlight of my life.
IRAQ—I know what you're thinking, Mister President: Why would anyone want to be ambassador to Iraq? First of all, I would require extra danger pay. But here's the best part: It wouldn't really be me waving from the balcony or the back of the convertible. It would be a dummy! That's right, a dummy. And guess where I'd actually be. Hawaii. Pretty good, huh?
GREENLAND—I'm not really sure where this is, but the name sounds lush and inviting, and makes me want to resettle there.
INDONESIA—The main reason I want to be ambassador to this country is for the joke possibilities. I could be at a party and someone might ask me what country I'm ambassador to. And I'd say, "I can't remember, I must have Indonesia." No, wait. I guess it's amnesia, not Indonesia. Anyway, I think the joke still works.
BEERSTEIN—Quite frankly, Mister President, I'm not sure there is such a country. But I wanted to put it down just in case.
PORNOGRAFICO—(See "Beerstein.")
NORTH KOREA—This might seem like an odd choice. But go with me on this, Mister President: First, North Korea is our enemy, right? Second, an ambassador cannot be arrested. With your permission, sir, I would go on a crime spree the likes of which North Korea has never seen. I would rob banks. I would vandalize everything I could get my hands on. I would draw cross-eyes on pictures of their "glorious leader," whoever he is. I would shoplift and then just throw the stuff away (after I broke it). I would walk around drunk in public, wearing nothing but my underpants, and shoot blowdarts at people going by. If a policeman confronted me, I would just mimic what he was saying while I made the hand-flapping motion. Then I would pull my ambassador ID out of my underpants and show him. He would stamp his foot and storm off—but without his policeman's hat, because I would take that. My favorite thing, Mister President, would be to go into a fancy North Korean restaurant and order everything on the menu, then not pay. "Won't you at least pay with some of your bank-robbery money?" they would plead. I would just laugh, then go outside and hijack a car and drive to my fancy hotel room. I know what you're thinking, Mister President: What if the hotel locks me out of my room? I will just go to the nearest hardware store, shoplift a sledgehammer, and bash in the door. They won't try that again. This seems like a win-win situation.
ENGLAND—I know England is not our enemy, but I would go on a crime spree here too. What the heck.
TAHITI—It's no Hawaii, but I would be willing to give it a try.
When I think back on all the arguments my wife and I have had, I realize how silly most of them were. And it makes me wonder why she wanted to argue about such stupid things. I think I'll go ask her.
Message to the New President
By Jack Handey
DEAR MISTER PRESIDENT: Congratulations on winning the election. I always knew you would win, and not that other guy. I told all my friends that. You can ask them.
Mister President, let's get down to business. One of your first jobs, and most important jobs, will be to appoint ambassadors to other countries. I am pleased to inform you that I am available to become your ambassador to any of the following countries:
HAWAII—This is one of my favorite countries. But there is a problem here: The people worship volcanoes. One of my first actions, Mister President, would be to outlaw this practice. At first the people might resist, but later they would get down on their knees and thank their lucky stars.
BRAZIL—The name of this country gave us the words "bra" and "zillion." Also, it is home to the Brazil nut. My goal, Mister President, would be to eat as many Brazil nuts as I could, day in and day out. Then I would invite my friend Don to come visit me. He is deathly allergic to Brazil nuts. The hope is that just by shaking his hand, I could make him pass out. Some people say this is a long shot. But what's the alternative? Unfortunately, I believe, it's global warming.
FRANCE—As you are probably aware, Mister President, there is a place in France where the women wear no pants. This is a disgrace. Also, there is a region of France called "Champagne." The idea of women with no pants drinking Champagne is one which I would make my top priority.
VATICAN CITY—I'll be honest, Mister President: I would love to ride in the Popemobile. Riding behind that protective glass, making obscene, taunting gestures at my friends while they fired bullets at me, would be the spiritual highlight of my life.
IRAQ—I know what you're thinking, Mister President: Why would anyone want to be ambassador to Iraq? First of all, I would require extra danger pay. But here's the best part: It wouldn't really be me waving from the balcony or the back of the convertible. It would be a dummy! That's right, a dummy. And guess where I'd actually be. Hawaii. Pretty good, huh?
GREENLAND—I'm not really sure where this is, but the name sounds lush and inviting, and makes me want to resettle there.
INDONESIA—The main reason I want to be ambassador to this country is for the joke possibilities. I could be at a party and someone might ask me what country I'm ambassador to. And I'd say, "I can't remember, I must have Indonesia." No, wait. I guess it's amnesia, not Indonesia. Anyway, I think the joke still works.
BEERSTEIN—Quite frankly, Mister President, I'm not sure there is such a country. But I wanted to put it down just in case.
PORNOGRAFICO—(See "Beerstein.")
NORTH KOREA—This might seem like an odd choice. But go with me on this, Mister President: First, North Korea is our enemy, right? Second, an ambassador cannot be arrested. With your permission, sir, I would go on a crime spree the likes of which North Korea has never seen. I would rob banks. I would vandalize everything I could get my hands on. I would draw cross-eyes on pictures of their "glorious leader," whoever he is. I would shoplift and then just throw the stuff away (after I broke it). I would walk around drunk in public, wearing nothing but my underpants, and shoot blowdarts at people going by. If a policeman confronted me, I would just mimic what he was saying while I made the hand-flapping motion. Then I would pull my ambassador ID out of my underpants and show him. He would stamp his foot and storm off—but without his policeman's hat, because I would take that. My favorite thing, Mister President, would be to go into a fancy North Korean restaurant and order everything on the menu, then not pay. "Won't you at least pay with some of your bank-robbery money?" they would plead. I would just laugh, then go outside and hijack a car and drive to my fancy hotel room. I know what you're thinking, Mister President: What if the hotel locks me out of my room? I will just go to the nearest hardware store, shoplift a sledgehammer, and bash in the door. They won't try that again. This seems like a win-win situation.
ENGLAND—I know England is not our enemy, but I would go on a crime spree here too. What the heck.
TAHITI—It's no Hawaii, but I would be willing to give it a try.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Success!
Well, dinner was fantastic. It turned out really well, and I got lots of compliments. So, here's my shout out to people who helped, but probably don't read my blog: Aunt Robin, Hannah, Ben T, Meghan, Anna, Laura, Mary Ruth, Pons, Sophie, Alexius, Theresa, Ben D, and Mary . You rock, and you made me look really cool. Thanks.
I am exhausted. I guess a giant meal and all the random little stresses involved will do that to you. I hope my baby sleeps better tonight. She's been having a growth spurt, and was up every hour and a half nursing last night.
I would like to write something enlightening and inspiring, but I am so tired I can barely type. So good night!
I am exhausted. I guess a giant meal and all the random little stresses involved will do that to you. I hope my baby sleeps better tonight. She's been having a growth spurt, and was up every hour and a half nursing last night.
I would like to write something enlightening and inspiring, but I am so tired I can barely type. So good night!
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Spring spring spring spring spring!
Hello Spring!! Today, it it 40 degrees, and the sun is shining. The heater was broken in my car, and I didn't even notice (it's fixed now). I stepped outside on my porch, and there were icicles dripping right and left, and it just smells like spring. Ahh....
Now that I've said this, it will probably dump three feet of snow tomorrow. Oh well.
Tomorrow is the Annunciation, which means it's time for the Annunciation dinner. Usually, this wouldn't even be a blip on my radar; but this year, I am in charge of the Annunciation dinner. Yikes! So far, I think I am doing really well. I've got people signed up to help, I've got a menu, I've got all the shopping done. Tonight, I'm meeting some of the St. James House guys after Catechism to prep all the salmon. We tried earlier, but it was still frozen solid. Ben Timby is also going to barbecue an octopus!
Here is the menu:
Cajun Salmon
Yoshita Salmon
BBQ Octopus
Company Rice (with caramelized onions and crasins)
Curried Rice with Veggies
Rolls
Assorted Salads and Desserts provided by the people
I am making all the salmon and the two rice dishes, with help from my aunt and my friend Hannah. Betsy keeps telling me that even if it's awful, people will be so hungry from fasting all day that they'll think it's fantastic. I hope so. Well, I really hope that it just doesn't suck, to begin with. But if it's not my best effort, hunger really is the best seasoning.
On a side note, Marina really is the cutest baby in the entire universe. Right now, she is chewing on my face and singing. Plus, she laughs when I raspberries on her neck. So adorable....
Now that I've said this, it will probably dump three feet of snow tomorrow. Oh well.
Tomorrow is the Annunciation, which means it's time for the Annunciation dinner. Usually, this wouldn't even be a blip on my radar; but this year, I am in charge of the Annunciation dinner. Yikes! So far, I think I am doing really well. I've got people signed up to help, I've got a menu, I've got all the shopping done. Tonight, I'm meeting some of the St. James House guys after Catechism to prep all the salmon. We tried earlier, but it was still frozen solid. Ben Timby is also going to barbecue an octopus!
Here is the menu:
Cajun Salmon
Yoshita Salmon
BBQ Octopus
Company Rice (with caramelized onions and crasins)
Curried Rice with Veggies
Rolls
Assorted Salads and Desserts provided by the people
I am making all the salmon and the two rice dishes, with help from my aunt and my friend Hannah. Betsy keeps telling me that even if it's awful, people will be so hungry from fasting all day that they'll think it's fantastic. I hope so. Well, I really hope that it just doesn't suck, to begin with. But if it's not my best effort, hunger really is the best seasoning.
On a side note, Marina really is the cutest baby in the entire universe. Right now, she is chewing on my face and singing. Plus, she laughs when I raspberries on her neck. So adorable....
Monday, March 23, 2009
40 Maxims Blog
I signed up to contribute to the 40 Maxims blog that I posted about earlier. This post will go up on Wednesday, but I thought I would stick it here too.
Don’t complain, grumble, murmur or whine.
When I read which Maxim was mine, I chuckled. Irony, it seems, always wins. I am a huge whiner. I usually like to label my complaining nicely. I’m “venting” or “just airing some problems.” But it’s whining and complaining, all the same. So I thought on this for a few days. What does a whiner—of whom I am first—have to say about complaining, grumbling, or murmuring?
I read somewhere that if all the people in the entire world put their problems in a huge pile, we would all take back our original ones. Boy isn’t that the case! My problems, as a middle-class American, are pretty minor. In the grand scheme of life in general, they really aren’t even a blip on the radar. So why do I insist on expounding on them? It seems that every time I complain about something, that tiny incident—whatever it may be—is magnified. And if I complain about it to five people (as I usually do) then it is magnified five times. All of a sudden, I have made a mountain out of that little molehill.
In further retrospection, I realized something. My complaints are really blessings. Take today, for example. My strong-willed daughter is in the midst of her terrible twos. I could grumble about that until the cows come home, and still have breath left over. But instead, I am going to choose to see the many gifts in this situation. Thank you God, for the blessing of her throwing a fit on the floor. That means that we have a floor, and a roof over it. Instead of calling my husband at work to complain about her sassing, I will instead thank God that I have a husband to call. Instead of grumbling that she swiped too many cookies when I wasn’t looking, I will be grateful that she is fed. And when I want to murmur over my pile of dirty laundry, I will instead offer a prayer of thanksgiving for the beautiful little girl who created it.
Truly, I believe this is one of the struggles of the Christian life: to see the grace and blessings of God in all things, however troublesome or mundane. And when I sit and think about it, the even more extraordinary truth is that I am alive and able to complain. I am loved and cared for by God “who so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son.” As we draw nearer and nearer to Golgatha, where that Only-Begotten Son died for me and my sins, my heart trembles that I have the audacity to complain when such a price was paid for me! Thank God for forgiveness. Thank God for the Cross. Thank God for the Resurrection!
Don’t complain, grumble, murmur or whine.
When I read which Maxim was mine, I chuckled. Irony, it seems, always wins. I am a huge whiner. I usually like to label my complaining nicely. I’m “venting” or “just airing some problems.” But it’s whining and complaining, all the same. So I thought on this for a few days. What does a whiner—of whom I am first—have to say about complaining, grumbling, or murmuring?
I read somewhere that if all the people in the entire world put their problems in a huge pile, we would all take back our original ones. Boy isn’t that the case! My problems, as a middle-class American, are pretty minor. In the grand scheme of life in general, they really aren’t even a blip on the radar. So why do I insist on expounding on them? It seems that every time I complain about something, that tiny incident—whatever it may be—is magnified. And if I complain about it to five people (as I usually do) then it is magnified five times. All of a sudden, I have made a mountain out of that little molehill.
In further retrospection, I realized something. My complaints are really blessings. Take today, for example. My strong-willed daughter is in the midst of her terrible twos. I could grumble about that until the cows come home, and still have breath left over. But instead, I am going to choose to see the many gifts in this situation. Thank you God, for the blessing of her throwing a fit on the floor. That means that we have a floor, and a roof over it. Instead of calling my husband at work to complain about her sassing, I will instead thank God that I have a husband to call. Instead of grumbling that she swiped too many cookies when I wasn’t looking, I will be grateful that she is fed. And when I want to murmur over my pile of dirty laundry, I will instead offer a prayer of thanksgiving for the beautiful little girl who created it.
Truly, I believe this is one of the struggles of the Christian life: to see the grace and blessings of God in all things, however troublesome or mundane. And when I sit and think about it, the even more extraordinary truth is that I am alive and able to complain. I am loved and cared for by God “who so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son.” As we draw nearer and nearer to Golgatha, where that Only-Begotten Son died for me and my sins, my heart trembles that I have the audacity to complain when such a price was paid for me! Thank God for forgiveness. Thank God for the Cross. Thank God for the Resurrection!
Pride Bubble Burst
So Megan was counting coins this morning to put in her piggy bank. She counted all the way to 15 without missing a number, and I was sitting there taking all the credit for my daughter being brilliant. Then, I heard this: "Fifteen, Sixteen, Sixty Nine, Eleven."
We're getting there.
We're getting there.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
My beef with the UPS Store
Megan offered further proof yesterday that she is, in fact, my daughter (as if the medical bills and stretch marks weren't enough). When told that her Godmother had had a baby, she told me, "Mama, we need to go to the store and buy her some presents!"
And then my husband groaned. It was fabulous.
We did go to the store today. We actually went to a bunch of stores (and yes, we bought Hannah a present). It was lots of fun until we got to the UPS store when they tried to charge me $106 for laminating. In all fairness, it's mostly my fault because I assumed the prices were the same for some laminating I had done a couple years ago. But still--$106!! I about had a heart attack on the spot. They lowered the price 50% since the rest of the fault was theirs for not quoting me a price up front....but it stunk, nonetheless.
And then my husband groaned. It was fabulous.
We did go to the store today. We actually went to a bunch of stores (and yes, we bought Hannah a present). It was lots of fun until we got to the UPS store when they tried to charge me $106 for laminating. In all fairness, it's mostly my fault because I assumed the prices were the same for some laminating I had done a couple years ago. But still--$106!! I about had a heart attack on the spot. They lowered the price 50% since the rest of the fault was theirs for not quoting me a price up front....but it stunk, nonetheless.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Welcome!
With joy, my post today is dedicated to Hannah Christine Howell, born this afternoon. She is 19 inches long, 6 pounds, 6 ounces. And while "Christine" is after her Grandma Diana, her proud Daddy says I am allowed to pretend that it's a little after me too. Yay!
Dearest Baby Hannah,
We love you already! When Megan heard that you "popped out of Aunt Stasie's tummy" she put her boots on and was ready to climb on a plane to see you right now. Truth be told, I am a little sad that we can't leave tonight! But, thank God, we have tickets to come see you in just two weeks! So take care of your parents until we get there (and after that too, of course). They rock, and your big brother Luke is pretty cool too.
I know you're going to be one of the coolest kids on the block. With a name like ours, how could you not be?
Love,
Aunt Christine
Dearest Baby Hannah,
We love you already! When Megan heard that you "popped out of Aunt Stasie's tummy" she put her boots on and was ready to climb on a plane to see you right now. Truth be told, I am a little sad that we can't leave tonight! But, thank God, we have tickets to come see you in just two weeks! So take care of your parents until we get there (and after that too, of course). They rock, and your big brother Luke is pretty cool too.
I know you're going to be one of the coolest kids on the block. With a name like ours, how could you not be?
Love,
Aunt Christine
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Pictures
Such a happy, happy baby!
Megan likes to say, "Oh look! She's kissing my baby doll!" But in actuality, Marina is really gnawing their faces off.
Her shirt says, "Just when you thought I couldn't get any cuter!"
Megan and I made bird feeders a few weeks ago. That's baby Ryder in the background.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Life as usual
It's pretty much life as usual for us these days. It's actually really nice--when I was pregnant with Marina, I knew it would be a few months before life settled down into the "new" normal, and I really feel that I've reached it. It's very comforting to know that my days have some kind of routine (however discombobulated it may be at times). I enjoy knowing what has to get done, and then getting it done!
On another positive note, I work for my parents two days a week now, and on Tuesdays I get to go WITHOUT MY KIDS. It's awesome. Hillary takes Marina (at least, she will start tomorrow), and Megan goes to Kari's. It's amazing what I can get done with no one crying or getting into chocolate.
So, I am planning the Annunciation Feast for our church. For those of you who have never been to one, it is a salmon bake for 200. Yikes, I know. I'm feeling just a hair daunted, but this kind of thing is totally up my alley, so I'm actually enjoying the planning. And on that note, if anybody has a killer rice or pasta dish that I could make as a side, let me know. I'm not overly impressed with any of the recipes I've come across yet.
Also, in terms of advice, I cannot get Megan to poop in the toilet. Every day, we have a big accident, which is then followed by hysteria (hers, not mine, although I'm usually pretty close behind). Any words of wisdom?
On another positive note, I work for my parents two days a week now, and on Tuesdays I get to go WITHOUT MY KIDS. It's awesome. Hillary takes Marina (at least, she will start tomorrow), and Megan goes to Kari's. It's amazing what I can get done with no one crying or getting into chocolate.
So, I am planning the Annunciation Feast for our church. For those of you who have never been to one, it is a salmon bake for 200. Yikes, I know. I'm feeling just a hair daunted, but this kind of thing is totally up my alley, so I'm actually enjoying the planning. And on that note, if anybody has a killer rice or pasta dish that I could make as a side, let me know. I'm not overly impressed with any of the recipes I've come across yet.
Also, in terms of advice, I cannot get Megan to poop in the toilet. Every day, we have a big accident, which is then followed by hysteria (hers, not mine, although I'm usually pretty close behind). Any words of wisdom?
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
A great Lenten blog
This is a great blog to follow during Lent--it's women writing each day about Fr. Thomas Hopko's 40 Maxims.
www.fortymaxims.blogspot.com
www.fortymaxims.blogspot.com
Happily Contented
Clean Week may be over, in a Liturgical sense, but in a literal sense, it is only beginning. If I was pregnant, I would think that I was nesting. However, since I'm not pregnant, we'll just call it obsessive cleaning. I don't know what it is, but I can't seem to stop. Of course, I have paused for the moment to write this extremely enlightening blog post, but the aftermath of having Megan's friends over to play is calling me..."Clean us! Clean us! We hate being out of our proper places! Please clean us!" I swear, it's a sickness.
In this cleaning journey, I have also emptied all my kitchen cupboards and rearranged them. I decided that I could be better utilizing my space, since my kitchen is so small. Well, I was right. I have way more space now, thanks especially to a brilliant idea of my husband's, in which he helped organize my baking cabinet. He rocks. I was even able to give Megan a little cupboard all her own to keep her ever-growing pile of artsy stuff in.
I had an insight into myself the other day. I realized that I am one of those people who is always thinking, "If I just get this one more thing, I'll be happy." Well, once I realized that, I got irritated, because I don't want to be that kind of person. So I am working on being happily contented with what I have. This has started with my house. I had been thinking for a long time that I would just "hang on" until we put an addition on the house (this is a pipe dream, and wouldn't happen in the foreseeable future anyway). Then I realized that was dumb. So, I am happily fixing up what I have. Take the kitchen, for instance. I don't need a bigger kitchen. I just need better organization. And perhaps to stop buying so many fun gadgets (There, honey, I've said it). I am also brainstorming ways to fix up my living room without spending gobs of money and making my husband crazy.
And while we're on the subject of my husband, I had a brilliant idea for his homily last night. We'll see if he uses it. He should, because it's fantastic, but we'll see.
In this cleaning journey, I have also emptied all my kitchen cupboards and rearranged them. I decided that I could be better utilizing my space, since my kitchen is so small. Well, I was right. I have way more space now, thanks especially to a brilliant idea of my husband's, in which he helped organize my baking cabinet. He rocks. I was even able to give Megan a little cupboard all her own to keep her ever-growing pile of artsy stuff in.
I had an insight into myself the other day. I realized that I am one of those people who is always thinking, "If I just get this one more thing, I'll be happy." Well, once I realized that, I got irritated, because I don't want to be that kind of person. So I am working on being happily contented with what I have. This has started with my house. I had been thinking for a long time that I would just "hang on" until we put an addition on the house (this is a pipe dream, and wouldn't happen in the foreseeable future anyway). Then I realized that was dumb. So, I am happily fixing up what I have. Take the kitchen, for instance. I don't need a bigger kitchen. I just need better organization. And perhaps to stop buying so many fun gadgets (There, honey, I've said it). I am also brainstorming ways to fix up my living room without spending gobs of money and making my husband crazy.
And while we're on the subject of my husband, I had a brilliant idea for his homily last night. We'll see if he uses it. He should, because it's fantastic, but we'll see.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Ways my children humiliate me
Okay, I debated long and hard about posting this story, but it's too awful not to. I am still recovering from the humiliation, although everyone else in the world thinks its hysterical. So, here is the story of Orthodoxy Vespers.
First, I have to note that we are still working on potty training. Megan has had some tummy upset the last few days, and is never really sure when she has to go to the bathroom or not. Also, I need to note that not only was the church packed last night, it was a Pan-Orthodox service, which meant that people from five other churches were laughing at me, as well as the ones from my own cathedral.
So there we are, celebrating a quiet and solemn moment in church, when Megan decides she has to go to the bathroom. Does she quietly tug on my hand and whisper in my ear? No no, that would be too easy. She starts clenching her legs doing the "potty dance" and announces SO LOUDLY, "Mama! I have to go poo poo! I have to go poo poo!" She says this--NO JOKE--six or seven times before I can get her to be quiet. So, I lateral-pass Marina to my sister, pick Megan up, and run her out of the church WHILE SHE IS STILL SAYING "Mama! I have to go poo poo!" And remember--this is my daughter, who can't say anything quietly.
So, there we are in the bathroom. She sits on the pot for a split second, then decides she's done and we should go back to church. I take her back in, thinking that the incident is over. Haha, how foolish of me. We're back in church for about five minutes, when the potty dance starts again. Only this time, she announces for the world to hear, "Mama! I have to go poo poo! It's coming out of my bottom! MAMA!!" Again, three or four times before I can get her out of the church. Everybody in a ten foot radius (and the church was packed, so it was a lot of people) was laughing.
I was so embarrassed, I would have welcomed being hit by a shovel in the face, then buried with said shovel. It was AWFUL.
BTW, I hope my husband (and Matthew for that matter) noticed my cool football reference.
First, I have to note that we are still working on potty training. Megan has had some tummy upset the last few days, and is never really sure when she has to go to the bathroom or not. Also, I need to note that not only was the church packed last night, it was a Pan-Orthodox service, which meant that people from five other churches were laughing at me, as well as the ones from my own cathedral.
So there we are, celebrating a quiet and solemn moment in church, when Megan decides she has to go to the bathroom. Does she quietly tug on my hand and whisper in my ear? No no, that would be too easy. She starts clenching her legs doing the "potty dance" and announces SO LOUDLY, "Mama! I have to go poo poo! I have to go poo poo!" She says this--NO JOKE--six or seven times before I can get her to be quiet. So, I lateral-pass Marina to my sister, pick Megan up, and run her out of the church WHILE SHE IS STILL SAYING "Mama! I have to go poo poo!" And remember--this is my daughter, who can't say anything quietly.
So, there we are in the bathroom. She sits on the pot for a split second, then decides she's done and we should go back to church. I take her back in, thinking that the incident is over. Haha, how foolish of me. We're back in church for about five minutes, when the potty dance starts again. Only this time, she announces for the world to hear, "Mama! I have to go poo poo! It's coming out of my bottom! MAMA!!" Again, three or four times before I can get her out of the church. Everybody in a ten foot radius (and the church was packed, so it was a lot of people) was laughing.
I was so embarrassed, I would have welcomed being hit by a shovel in the face, then buried with said shovel. It was AWFUL.
BTW, I hope my husband (and Matthew for that matter) noticed my cool football reference.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Musings
So I've been thinking lately about food. Not because it's Lent, but the whole "Should I eat corn syrup? What's healthy? What should I give my kids to eat?" conundrum. I find myself wondering if there is some kind of balance out there...and this is what I have discovered:
1.) I don't care about high fructose corn syrup, in and of itself. I care about giving my family too much sugar in general (well, my kids at least. Dn. John and I would probably whither up and die without sweets).
2.) It irritates me that there are so many additives and preservatives in food. Food is SUPPOSED to eventually go bad, not live on forever.
3.) I would like to buy more non-pesticide treated (read: organic) foods, but they are so frapping expensive. If it's a choice between regular apples or no apples, I'm going with the regular apples.
My solution for the time being is to make good choices. I'll give Megan no-sugar added apple juice, and when she asks for a bowl of peas instead of M&M's for a treat (seriously, she did that this morning), I'll give her the peas. With Marina, I will endeavor to give her more "whole" foods --as in mushing up a banana for her instead of buying baby food bananas (which don't even smell like real bananas--it's revolting). But the biggest thing is that whenever possible, I want to make things from scratch so that I know and understand what is in the food I am putting in front of my family. One thing I have been doing for awhile now is making my own bread. I had a loaf that fell behind the fridge, was there for months, and DIDN'T MOLD. How horrifying is that? After the no-mold incident, I haven't been able to bring myself to buy bread (unless it's my Dad's--and I don't usually pay for it...). So I bake bread. And in all honesty, I'm a stay-at-home Mom, so I have time and it's not a big deal. Plus, it's delicious.
I guess the organic "craze" bugs me sometimes, because I know people who think I'm poisoning my kids because of what I buy (okay, maybe poisoning is too strong a word, but you get my drift), but I simply can't afford to pay the outrageous prices for organic food. Like I said, if it's cheap apples or no apples, we're going for the cheap apples.
So in any case, I want to make good choices. I also want to know what alien has replaced my daughter. What two year old picks peas over M&Ms?
1.) I don't care about high fructose corn syrup, in and of itself. I care about giving my family too much sugar in general (well, my kids at least. Dn. John and I would probably whither up and die without sweets).
2.) It irritates me that there are so many additives and preservatives in food. Food is SUPPOSED to eventually go bad, not live on forever.
3.) I would like to buy more non-pesticide treated (read: organic) foods, but they are so frapping expensive. If it's a choice between regular apples or no apples, I'm going with the regular apples.
My solution for the time being is to make good choices. I'll give Megan no-sugar added apple juice, and when she asks for a bowl of peas instead of M&M's for a treat (seriously, she did that this morning), I'll give her the peas. With Marina, I will endeavor to give her more "whole" foods --as in mushing up a banana for her instead of buying baby food bananas (which don't even smell like real bananas--it's revolting). But the biggest thing is that whenever possible, I want to make things from scratch so that I know and understand what is in the food I am putting in front of my family. One thing I have been doing for awhile now is making my own bread. I had a loaf that fell behind the fridge, was there for months, and DIDN'T MOLD. How horrifying is that? After the no-mold incident, I haven't been able to bring myself to buy bread (unless it's my Dad's--and I don't usually pay for it...). So I bake bread. And in all honesty, I'm a stay-at-home Mom, so I have time and it's not a big deal. Plus, it's delicious.
I guess the organic "craze" bugs me sometimes, because I know people who think I'm poisoning my kids because of what I buy (okay, maybe poisoning is too strong a word, but you get my drift), but I simply can't afford to pay the outrageous prices for organic food. Like I said, if it's cheap apples or no apples, we're going for the cheap apples.
So in any case, I want to make good choices. I also want to know what alien has replaced my daughter. What two year old picks peas over M&Ms?
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Are you sleeping?
We have been teaching Megan the song that goes, "Are you sleeping? Are you sleeping? Brother John! Brother John! Morning bells are ringing. Morning bells are ringing. Ding ding dong, Ding ding dong." So this morning, she was singing, "Are you sleeping? Deacon John?" It was super cute.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Megan quote of the day
"Mommy, I am not a pie. I am a girl." (After I called her sweetie pie when she went to bed.)
In other news, I have figured out why Marina wasn't interested in regular food (if baby food can be called regular, that is). It was cold. Or tepid. Whatever. Today, I heated it up and she gobbled it down so fast I'm surprised she didn't choke. And she ate a TON. So our already chunky little girl is on her way to becoming chunkier. But that's okay. We love her big cheeks. :)
In other news, I have figured out why Marina wasn't interested in regular food (if baby food can be called regular, that is). It was cold. Or tepid. Whatever. Today, I heated it up and she gobbled it down so fast I'm surprised she didn't choke. And she ate a TON. So our already chunky little girl is on her way to becoming chunkier. But that's okay. We love her big cheeks. :)
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