Snippets

My family and I took a poll and it's unanimous -- Sky High is much better than Zoom: Academy for Super Heroes. Unfortunately, Santa brought the latter. Ah, well...

As I check my email and delete my spam, I wonder why I get nothing but ads for male enlargement. Part of me gets frustrated as I don't have that particular piece of anatomy so why do I need products to make it bigger? The feminist in me argues that there should be equal spam time for some sort of female experience enhancement medication or device or something along those lines.

I am exhausted. Lulu's birthday, Thanksgiving, my father-in-law's birthday, Christmas, Rhys' birthday and tonight is New Year's. I'm always happy when January rolls around as it provides a month's reprieve from holidays, birthdays and family functions.

My daughter was engaging to watch as we signed the family Christmas newsletter. She began trying to write her full name. (She can write E-M-M-A and I helped her with Louise). Then she moved toward writing a large E (one straight vertical line crossed by as many horizontal lines as she could fit, usually four) followed by squiggles. Next it was just squiggles, then just E's, then she colored in a snowflake at the bottom, then she practiced her lowercase a's (which really looked like q's) and she ended by just drawing a straight line across the bottom of the page. I love the honesty of a 4-year-old (a sentence I find ironic as she has a strong tendency to lie). She is not concerned about what others will think. She doesn't care if her name looks the prettiest or the best. She just does what she can and leaves the rest. Oh that I could be that honest and brave.

Robert got me the complete Calvin and Hobbes for Christmas. As I read the strips, I'm amazed at how much I really do love the rascally 6-year-old (hmmm...whom does he remind me of?) and his real, live, stuffed tiger. I read one strip where Hobbes asked Calvin if there really was a God. Calvin replied, "Well, I know someone's out to get me."

Rhys just had his ninth birthday (egads!) and his aunt gave him Peter and the Starcatchers and we gave him Gregor and the Code of the Claw. I love that he is old enough, and enough of a book lover, that I can now give him books for gifts. Of course, he did also get a skateboard with a King Cobra on the back. ("Sweet!")

I also need to record for posterity that Robert was right and I was wrong. For some reason this past weekend my right wrist flared up. I wrapped, iced and ibuprofened it all Saturday. By Sunday it was feeling much better. I was helping Robert with our experimental Seafood Lasagna (for Rhys’ birthday dinner -- which, by the way, was very rich but very delicious! He also requested brussel sprouts -- you know, you try to raise them right...) and I volunteered to grate the cheese. Robert, ever so wisely, suggested that I get down the ol’ meat grinder/cheese grater machine but I didn’t want to lug the heavy thing off the shelf, use it (it’s very noisy), clean it and put it back. “Oh no,” thought stubborn, independent I, “I will be fine.” My wrist woke me up at 5:30am (a great time on New Year’s Eve to be awake, particularly since my children have decided they are old enough to stay up until midnight) and has been killing me all day despite the wrap, ice and ibuprofen. I told Robert that he was right and I had been wrong and terribly stubborn and that I should have listened to him. He just requested a tape recorder.

I had to give a talk in church on Sunday. It went well but in my concluding remarks as I bore my testimony I expressed gratitude for my children and neglected to mention my husband. I have much greater sympathy for Sarah Jessica Parker now. I tried to convince Robert that I failed to mention him because we are one, as the Bible suggests we should be, and so mentioning him would be like saying, "I'm thankful for me," which one does not generally say in public. He didn't really buy it but appreciated the effort.

We missed our kids' Christmas Sing-a-long for the 2nd year in a row. Last year I went to a play and Robert and the kids got stuck for 45 min behind a train as they were leaving for the concert. This year, we all just plumb forgot. Rhys forgot. Quinn forgot. Robert forgot. I forgot (not so shocking there). Grandma and Grandpa even forgot! (Happily. I had nightmares of my in-laws waiting for us at the concert and not being particularly pleased with my latest memory lapse.) Quinn was distraught. We had a very long conversation as I tried to console him that concluded with me promising, multiple times, that we would go to next year's Christmas Sing-a-long. I'm really praying that we make that one. It's a scary thing to promise something a year in advance knowing how well my mind has been working of late.

I learned that cats have deciduous teeth. Robert was holding Jenny and she bit him. He pulled his finger out of her mouth only to have one tooth tweak as he did so. We checked the tooth and it was loose and pointing out of her mouth instead of straight up. We were very paranoid, "What should we do?" We decided (at this point we didn't know she should be loosing teeth) that there wasn't anything to do as we weren't going to have kitten orthodontics. (Can you even imagine the bill?!) The next morning the tooth was completely gone but there was the crown of a new incisor poking through her gums. I googled cat teeth and sure enough, kittens lose their teeth. Whew, sigh of relief. Robert doesn't feel like a big, blue meanie now.

We had ice on the roads and cars this morning. It was enchanting to learn that when freezing temps follow rain, spider webs become strings of crystal beads.

Lulu, Robert and I were all playing after her bath tonight. Lulu started laughing and snorting. "I'm laughing like a pig," she said. Then she got serious, leaned over Robert and said, "There's something in your nose. Stay still." And quick as a wink she reached in and grabbed something. I thought she had found a bogie but, to Robert's dismay, she pulled on one of his nose hairs. Just the thing Robert wants me to blog.

I've scared Rhys twice today. Heh, heh, heh.

These last few weeks, I've been quite happy with only tinges of depression. Yea!

I've tried to write a short story a few times and I find it amazing how difficult it is to create engaging dialogue, something I do naturally on a daily basis (alright, perhaps engaging is stretching it, but dialogue is accurate). An authoress I will probably never be but I've decided writing is good for my soul even if I write the same way I tell jokes: I'm the only one who laughs.

I supposed I've snipped all the ettes I could find in my life, which only leaves one last thing:

Happy New Year!

Baptism by Fire

This weekend I drove to Washington to visit some friends (Tom and Pam) and witness their daughter's (Ryleigh) baptism. Children grow so fast. It is always surreal to see children after being gone for a time. The whole weekend the video clip of Tom and Pam announcing that they were pregnant with Ryleigh ran through my head. Life moves along whether I want it to or not.

Anyway, the drive up was uneventful but I felt I had guardian angel help as I was so tired that I'm not sure I completely remember the five hour drive. We arrived safely and I had a good time catching up with everyone. The next morning we had breakfast and the children made themselves busy playing with their friends and their friends' cousins. I think the only time I talked to them was to remind them to get dressed and when they got hungry enough to come and find me!

Then, it happened. It started to snow. The two years that I lived in North Bend, we rarely got snow. It fell about once or twice a winter and was gone in a few days. Saturday, North Bend got about 10 inches (according to Tom's measurements) in less than 24 hours. I didn't have coats for my kids (they wore their pajamas up and in our haste to get out of Oregon, I forgot to pack them). I didn't have a scraper for the van to remove the snow and ice. But, prepared or not, the snow came. And snow or no snow, the baptism was on. I would just have to drive slowly and crank the heater. And so I did. I drove 20 miles an hour in the dark from Tom and Pam's house to the baptism. I drove 15 miles an hour in the dark from the baptism back to Tom and Pam's house. Many of my friends couldn't understand my anxiety. "Didn't you grow up in Alaska?" I did. But, as I reminded them again and again, I only drove there for two years and I haven't lived there for the last 14. Additionally, when I did drive up there, it was with 4-wheel drive or studded tires. I am not an experienced mini-van, all-weather tire, snow driver.

What I didn't tell them is that I have been struggling with anxiety and depression and that the anxiety hit big time this weekend. I was overwhelmed with the amount of people in the house, most of whom I knew only vaguely. Tom's family was there, Pam's whole family was there, friends were there....it went on and on until voices blurred and faces melded. Then I was overwhelmed with the thought of the drive, less than five miles I think, in the dark with snow and ice. Robert could have driven us and barely given it a second thought. Robert, however, was unable to make the trip with me so there was no one to fall back on. The safety of myself and my children rested solely on my shoulders and we had already driven five hours; how could five miles stop me from attending the baptism? I prayed. And prayed. And prayed. I drove. I made it. I cried on my bed when we got back to Tom and Pam's. I wanted to kiss the ground. I thanked God that the drive was over and prayed that the predictions of rain and warmer temperatures would make the snow disappear so I could go home.

I went to sleep for the night secure in the thought that all would be well the next day. I awoke and was still surrounded by snow. Then it started to snow more. I started to cry. I just wanted to go home. Why was this happening? It never snows like this on December 1 and 2 in North Bend!! We checked the roads and apparently the snow was limited to the valley and the rest of the drive looked rainy but clear. I decided I would go for it. It took me an hour to pack up the kids and the van. I cleaned off the van with my fleece sweatshirt and waded through calf deep snow in tennis shoes to make paths for my children. Finally, we were loaded and ready. Then I tried to drive away. I got stuck. I drove forward a bit, put it in reverse and gave it all I had hoping we could blast through the snow. I got more stuck. I flagged down Tom, who was plowing the drive, to come help. As I waited for him, I looked at the sky and started to cry. "Why God? Why was this happening? " He knew how much I hated to drive in snow and ice and yet here, all alone without Robert, He had sent snow. For what purpose?

As I stared at the sky and cried, I remembered this past week and my prayers for humility. I have been trying to take my problems to God, understanding that I could not fix them myself, and yet I felt like a rebellious teenager with my hands on my hips and my chin stuck out, daring God to help, expecting that He wouldn't and so I would have to do it myself all the while I was dying inside. I wanted to change this rebellious feeling and be more humble, but how? As I stood in the snow, I had the feeling that all this snow was sent for me. Here I was, literally stuck and completely unable to help myself. I needed God's hand to protect us and to keep my anxiety at bay. I needed to realize how powerless I am in my own life just as I was in that moment standing in snow, crying next to a stuck mini-van. I needed to better appreciate how much my children need God in their lives and how much I need Him to help me raise them. In that moment, I felt humble and ready to listen.

I made it home safely -- the snowy conditions only lasted about 15 miles. But keeping the humility of that moment is a challenge. I find that humility is fleeting and every time I think I've got it, it disappears. But I'm grateful for that moment, that taste of humility and the knowledge that I can possess it. I'm so grateful for God and the moments when every thing comes together and I can see that He really is working diligently on my behalf. I am grateful for the gentle whispers of the Holy Ghost reminding an anxious, snow bound girl that this is for her good. I am grateful for the moments when I feel cradled in His hands and surrounded by His love, especially when it is a moment that I am standing in flames.