My Mom called me tonight to ask me how the blog ended. I was very confused at this question. I was quite certain I had not published an unfinished blog but apparently I had.
Hee, Hee, Heee...
Oh, for certain I've lost my marbles!
In case you were at all curious, Brent called while I was in the middle of writing a sentence and while I was certain I had hit the "save now" button, I must have hit the "publish post" button instead. I have now finished it in case you were feeling bored enough to want to read the rest.
I have not stopped laughing at myself since which tells me that a) I've lost my mind and need medical attention, b) I need to go to bed right this minute since my overdoses on coffee lately have not been an effective treatment to the state of exhaustion I'm walking around in or c) I need to get out more because this really isn't that funny when I think about it and yet, I'm still laughing.
Brent, I'm sorry if you come home to a wife whose eyes are bugged out and is running around the house chasing phantom bats with a broom yelling "I'm gonna getcha! I'm gonna getcha!" I'll do my best to hold it together but let's just both pray this is all over soon. Day and night, pray. Like seriously, maybe every time you think of me or the girls. Let's synchronize out watches and then maybe every five minutes we'll ask God to keep me going. Like a little wind up toy who is beating his drum slower and slower until someone comes along and gives it a crank. That's me. I need God to give me a crank. Every five minutes sounds about right.
I'm going to bed...
...after I pray.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
To Be a Kid (completed)
When we had Sage I was determined that I would not be a parent who competed with other parents in the game of who has the smartest, most brilliant, Einstein in the making, Harvard should be calling any day, child. Along the way I've met parents who were just as determined to lure me into the boxing ring of "here's what MY kid is doing now" jabs but I feel I was able to hold my own and steer clear of throwing any jabs or uppercuts from my corner. (I think I've been doing a little too much tae bo lately) Now, for certain, there are people who actually care and are interested in your child enough to want to know all the little details. I'm not talking about them, I'm talking about the ones who ramble off all the latest and greatest accomplishments there child has made and then ask you that inevitable question: "So, what is YOUR child doing now?" My answer was usually something like "Oh, we love to go to the zoo and tickle the sharks swimming over our heads" or "Sage is just getting into having me paint her nails and sometimes we make it extra special by also painting polka dots on them!" Secretly, I'm hoping my answer annoys the socks off them.
Still, I couldn't help falling into the trap of questioning if I'm teaching Sage enough right now. Is the new norm to have her reading before she gets to kindergarten? If it is then I'd better snap to it. Not to mention, we really need to clear up her numbers because mixing up 6 and 9 will be sooooo not cool by the time she's in preschool.
Then I read something so provocative that seriously, I feel like a new parent with a whole new set of parenting tools. There's this book that I highly recommend by Dr. Brazelton (he's a huge voice in the world of research in child development) and I had finally gotten around to reading his the chapter in his book Touchpoints that was on three year olds. When I got to the subject of cognitive development, what he had to say was so incredibly shocking to me that I think I ended up reading three times. Here's the first part of it.
"In the pressured world of families today, many parents of children aged three or younger will wonder when to begin teaching them to read and write. My response: Don't, until she demands it."
Don't teach your child to read unless she demands it? Are you kidding me?
He goes on to talk about a study done in the 60's where a group of three year olds were taught to read and gained adult approval because of it but were shunned by peers who hadn't learned the skills. Then they began to slip in second and third grade because the learning process they'd used earlier wasn't enough in the more complex studies of later grades. Once they lost their place in the top of the class, they also lost the adult approval that had fed them before and ended up truly in a sorry state since they had never developed the social skills needed to get along with their peers. In the end he concludes that the best thing you can for your child at this age is to let her learn for herself. Achieving a task on her own will give a sense of accomplishment that will serve her much more for future learning than if the parent had pushed her.
Let me tell you, since I've read this the air has changed in this house and it's been an eye-opener to me at how much I was taking charge of the activities we did. By far what I've noticed the most is how much more I enjoy just playing with them or watching them play. It's as if I'm learning right along with them only my lesson is on discovering more about my girls and who they are even at this young age. So thank you Dr. Brazelton for my lesson on withstanding peer pressure. I never thought I'd need that lesson at the age of 31 but apparently I did.
Still, I couldn't help falling into the trap of questioning if I'm teaching Sage enough right now. Is the new norm to have her reading before she gets to kindergarten? If it is then I'd better snap to it. Not to mention, we really need to clear up her numbers because mixing up 6 and 9 will be sooooo not cool by the time she's in preschool.
Then I read something so provocative that seriously, I feel like a new parent with a whole new set of parenting tools. There's this book that I highly recommend by Dr. Brazelton (he's a huge voice in the world of research in child development) and I had finally gotten around to reading his the chapter in his book Touchpoints that was on three year olds. When I got to the subject of cognitive development, what he had to say was so incredibly shocking to me that I think I ended up reading three times. Here's the first part of it.
"In the pressured world of families today, many parents of children aged three or younger will wonder when to begin teaching them to read and write. My response: Don't, until she demands it."
Don't teach your child to read unless she demands it? Are you kidding me?
He goes on to talk about a study done in the 60's where a group of three year olds were taught to read and gained adult approval because of it but were shunned by peers who hadn't learned the skills. Then they began to slip in second and third grade because the learning process they'd used earlier wasn't enough in the more complex studies of later grades. Once they lost their place in the top of the class, they also lost the adult approval that had fed them before and ended up truly in a sorry state since they had never developed the social skills needed to get along with their peers. In the end he concludes that the best thing you can for your child at this age is to let her learn for herself. Achieving a task on her own will give a sense of accomplishment that will serve her much more for future learning than if the parent had pushed her.
Let me tell you, since I've read this the air has changed in this house and it's been an eye-opener to me at how much I was taking charge of the activities we did. By far what I've noticed the most is how much more I enjoy just playing with them or watching them play. It's as if I'm learning right along with them only my lesson is on discovering more about my girls and who they are even at this young age. So thank you Dr. Brazelton for my lesson on withstanding peer pressure. I never thought I'd need that lesson at the age of 31 but apparently I did.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
A Level of Respect
Since we first moved to Omaha and started this military life, I have always wanted to make note of something so far from normalcy in the civilian world that happens here everyday on the base. For my friends who are military and happen to read this blog, please feel free to share your first or memorable experience as well. I was raised on a farm and my life was so far removed from this world of rituals and abbreviated EVERYTHING, where your doctor shows up in camouflage and expects you to not think twice about his or her attire. There are many positives about this life that I don't want to forget and this is one memory I will smile over for the rest of my life.
Everyday, sometime around 4pm, loud horns can be heard from any point on base. If you are outside when you hear this, all activity must stop. I'm not sure what those inside buildings must do but I do know that I've never had to stop grocery shopping when they've gone off. If you are driving in your car, you must pull over. If you are active duty you must actually get out of your car and salute in the American flag as the National Anthem is then played throughout the base. This happens during rush hour on base when everyone leaves around 4:30pm so can you imagine all these cars pulled to the side of the road, out of respect for the anthem, everyday?
Now imagine what it would be like if you were an officer in your car and experiencing this ritual for your first time...only no one told you what it was about or what you were suppose to do. Yeah, that was the case for poor Brent. If I remember right, he just kind of played it cool and followed along with everyone around him. Sadly, there have been many other "here's something else that we do that is in no way considered normal that somehow you were just suppose to know" moments. Live and learn, right?
My first time hearing those horns blast was while we were swimming in the base pool. By this point Brent had already had his lesson on car etiquette in this situation but what do you do when you are swimming in the deep end of the pool? Were we suppose to get out? Could we quietly just keep swimming? Being the street smart people we are, we stole glances at the seven year olds swimming next to us and gathered from them that the people in the pool were suppose to turn to the direction of the flag seize all movement or quietly tread if you couldn't touch the bottom of the pool. The mother's who had been soaking some rays all put their books down, stood with hands over their hearts and showed their respect along with the rest of us.
Okay, I totally get the patriotism and respect that is shown in all of this and it there is a sense of pride every time when we take that moment out of normalcy to honor what this country and not to mention, the whole point of being in the military is about. But I'm sorry...it's a terrible, embarrassing thing for me to do...I just can't help but get the giggles every time. I think it's because I always think of Pavlov's dogs and that this could be mistaken for some mighty impressive conditioning.
Case and point: On my Mom's last visit here we were walking into the commissary (grocery store) when the horns started. I immediately grabbed my Mom's arms and told her to stop. She had no clue what was happening and thought we must be in some kind of danger but thankfully, before she tried to take cover or make some other defensive maneuver, she saw that everyone around her had stopped as well and were not in the least bit concerned. I looked around and tried imagine what this scene looked like to her as people who were on their way to their cars with the carry out person toting their groceries behind them, stopped dead in their tracks--even if it was in the middle of the street--and stood with somber faces and hands properly placed on their chest. What was she thinking when she saw the lady a few feet away standing by her open trunk with groceries only half loaded? At first she had the proper response of "how neat" and "there is dignity and honor in doing this." But then...
...then came the giggles.
Everyday, sometime around 4pm, loud horns can be heard from any point on base. If you are outside when you hear this, all activity must stop. I'm not sure what those inside buildings must do but I do know that I've never had to stop grocery shopping when they've gone off. If you are driving in your car, you must pull over. If you are active duty you must actually get out of your car and salute in the American flag as the National Anthem is then played throughout the base. This happens during rush hour on base when everyone leaves around 4:30pm so can you imagine all these cars pulled to the side of the road, out of respect for the anthem, everyday?
Now imagine what it would be like if you were an officer in your car and experiencing this ritual for your first time...only no one told you what it was about or what you were suppose to do. Yeah, that was the case for poor Brent. If I remember right, he just kind of played it cool and followed along with everyone around him. Sadly, there have been many other "here's something else that we do that is in no way considered normal that somehow you were just suppose to know" moments. Live and learn, right?
My first time hearing those horns blast was while we were swimming in the base pool. By this point Brent had already had his lesson on car etiquette in this situation but what do you do when you are swimming in the deep end of the pool? Were we suppose to get out? Could we quietly just keep swimming? Being the street smart people we are, we stole glances at the seven year olds swimming next to us and gathered from them that the people in the pool were suppose to turn to the direction of the flag seize all movement or quietly tread if you couldn't touch the bottom of the pool. The mother's who had been soaking some rays all put their books down, stood with hands over their hearts and showed their respect along with the rest of us.
Okay, I totally get the patriotism and respect that is shown in all of this and it there is a sense of pride every time when we take that moment out of normalcy to honor what this country and not to mention, the whole point of being in the military is about. But I'm sorry...it's a terrible, embarrassing thing for me to do...I just can't help but get the giggles every time. I think it's because I always think of Pavlov's dogs and that this could be mistaken for some mighty impressive conditioning.
Case and point: On my Mom's last visit here we were walking into the commissary (grocery store) when the horns started. I immediately grabbed my Mom's arms and told her to stop. She had no clue what was happening and thought we must be in some kind of danger but thankfully, before she tried to take cover or make some other defensive maneuver, she saw that everyone around her had stopped as well and were not in the least bit concerned. I looked around and tried imagine what this scene looked like to her as people who were on their way to their cars with the carry out person toting their groceries behind them, stopped dead in their tracks--even if it was in the middle of the street--and stood with somber faces and hands properly placed on their chest. What was she thinking when she saw the lady a few feet away standing by her open trunk with groceries only half loaded? At first she had the proper response of "how neat" and "there is dignity and honor in doing this." But then...
...then came the giggles.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Clare Bear is One
My little Clare, you are now one years old and my heart hurts a little when I think what being one means. When you're one you have lots to do and so much to explore and many things to learn that no longer will you have time to take little naps on Mommy and Daddy's chest or find delight only in our faces as we tell you how much we love you. Now you are determined to find everything in the house that you've never seen before leaving us with only seconds to give you a quick hug before you insist on being put down to go explore some more. You are learning to be independent and strong on your own--and while I'm thrilled that you want to do these things, I'm a bit sad at the thought of my little cling-on detaching herself from me.
One year of your life has passed and with great relief I can say that you were a wonderful baby. Oh, there were the difficult moments that every parent of a baby goes through and definitely nights where I felt like I would never get to see my pillow again; but then you would give me that beautiful smile or hold on to me as tightly as I held you, making all those long nights or days softly slip away.
In just one year we have learned so much about your big personality. You know what you want and have a great determination to get it. You give passion to everything you do, including the intensity of your frustration. At one you are already starting to stick up for yourself with your big sister which I'm relieved about because she is much bigger than you and you are going to need the feistiness in your little body to keep up with her. You are quite dramatic, to the point that a stranger will be certain that you were physically injured when really they just got close to you without you giving them permission. You have some fears but will let them go given enough proof that they're not really that scary. My biggest and most favorite part of you is the pot of joy inside of you that bubbles over every day. It's like you were given extra sprinkles of happiness to be shared with everyone around you and when you do, you have the ability to make the grumpiest person in the world smile. Such a little girl with such a big heart.
Your birthday was a wonderful time for us because your Daddy was able to schedule his leave to be home for your special day. Grandpa Buck, Grandma Jane, Nana and Papa were all there to celebrate with us and to watch you devour your birthday cake. About your cake, I'm very sorry but the Care Bear cake that I was trying to make completely fell apart and Daddy and Papa had to go buy a cake (which was very tasty and thank you for saving the day) from the grocery store. Papa had the great idea to ask if the bakery had any Care Bear stuff for the cake and bless their hearts, they did. I vow to make it up to you and make you that cake sometime soon as well as give you stellar cakes on your birthdays to come. You had a great time playing with the balloons and opening your presents but no doubt, your favorite part was eating the cake and decorating your face and hair with it. In spite of my loser cake, it was a fun day and you were so adorable.
We love you so much Bear and are so thankful that God chose us to be your parents. You have blessed us more than we could ever have imagined. We are so proud to call you our daughter. Happy Birthday Sweetheart.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Chia Legs
Calling all mother of babies and toddlers! Here is an brilliant idea for a learning experience for your child that is both entertaining and will not cost you a penny. It's quite easy actually, just refrain from picking up the razor and let your leg hair grow as nature intended it to. When your pants begin to catch on your new growth, you are then ready to sit down with your child and let them delight themselves in the fun texture of your calves. You will laugh with your child as she discovers a whole new world of prickly legs. Enhance her experience by showing her rubbing one direction is smooth while the other is scratchy. Hint: Have a stuffed animal nearby so that you can show the difference between soft hair and porcupine hair. You are guaranteed hours of entertainment for your child at no cost to you. Plus, you can take this toy anywhere! So start now! Supplies are not limited!
Brought to you by the Mothers of One Minute Showers.
Brought to you by the Mothers of One Minute Showers.
Monday, February 9, 2009
A Good Workout
I woke up determined to do one thing: put my running shoes on and have some serious run time on the treadmill. It's been a crazy, emotional roller coaster ride these past few weeks with coming back to Omaha, picking Brent up at the airport five days later and then bringing him back yesterday to say goodbye for another five months. There was a desperation in me to run my legs off and hash it all out. This has become more than a physical conditioning for my body, now it's a "throw your gloves on" deep cleansing of my soul and I already know that today is going to be a long run with all the stuff I need to sort out with God.
The first minutes are always like a dog tearing out the door after being cooped up inside all day. I've got my ishuffle cued to today's choices of Sara Groves songs and as always the lyrics serve like a person adding their wise observations to a conversation as I let my mind wander over the beautiful two weeks we had with Brent. There, of course, are memories too private to share and then their are the ones too precious not to. Like Sage skipping into the airport, chatting away about going to find Daddy and then the smile on her face as she shyly walked into his arms with no intentions of ever being let go of and not a single word left to say. Or Clare being at a water park and so overwhelmed by all the sights and sounds but the moment Brent came into view she screams out "DADA!" like she knew who was suppose to protect her.
I'm feeling great. Maybe I'll add minutes to this run today.
This goodbye was different then last time. I told Brent that the best way that I could describe how it feels to send my husband into a country where there are men at any corner who would give their lives end his is this: I'm standing on the shore of a frozen lake with my hands tied, mouth gagged and eyes blindfolded, knowing that Brent is on that lake walking over it hour after hour, day after day; and also knowing that there are parts of that lake where the ice is so thin he would be certain to fall through. If he did, I would not be able to help him and since I cannot see or hear him, I wouldn't even know it had happened until someone lifted that blindfold off my eyes. It took everything in me to let him go and watch his uniform disappear through the doors of the airport.
My knee is hurting a bit...weird. I read something that knee problems in runners can come from the runner turning their feet in when they step (I'm not even sure if I do that) so maybe I'll try focusing on the way I plant my foot...what do you know, it seems to help. I think the pain is going away.
I think I've been purposely avoiding the reality of where he is. No CNN, no FOX news, nothing. I wanted to avoid all reports of terrorist activities and live in the idea that it was relatively safe where Brent is. Brent's camera wasn't working either so I wasn't even getting pictures from him either. But then he came home and there were the less than expected conditions that he is living in and traveling in and not to mention, the time I slipped and watched a report of a suicide bomber in southern Afghanistan and listened as the Taliban claimed responsibility and promised more attacks in that area. That area...southern Afghanistan...where Brent is. My Brent, my most favorite person in the whole world, the man I want to laugh with and love for the rest of my life, the father of our sweet and innocent little girls. I know they just want to drive fear into us and well, I'm sorry but they have succeeded in scaring me. How am I suppose to be okay with this? How do I just sit here for the next five months waiting to see how it all pans out?
I think I started out too fast. My side is hurting now. I know if I focus on my breathing it will get better. This is not the wall, I will not stop for just this. I'll just breathe.
We keep saying that God has a purpose for us in all of this and things that He wants to show us and teach us. So I guess now would be a good time to start looking for today's lesson. In an instant the angels are flapping their wings again. I had been praying for God's angels to protect Brent and the men there and I all of sudden remembered that I'm not completely helpless...okay, okay, I know that when I'm relying on God to be my strength I'm never helpless. But the Bible talks a lot about angels and how many times they were used to bring messages and warnings and also to protect people. I figure they must be much more intimidating than any army we've got so, "Lord, send your strongest angels. Let them stand as a barrier between Brent and these men whose only mission in being there is to help the people of Afghanistan."
Pain is gone but the run isn't going as easy as I thought it would be. I won't be adding minutes to this run but I know I will finish it. Sage is running around in circles by me while Clare's taking her nap. I hope that as they grow up they get something out of being around us while we work out. I hope they will want to live healthy lives.
Two eyes, one pair green and often found in a look of deep contemplation as she figures out the workings of her world and the other blue and so ready to smile at what she knows in her young one year of life. They flash in my mind and all of a sudden I know that this journey, this difficult road is not only about what I can learn but also about what I can teach them.
My knee is hurting again and this time the way I step my foot isn't going to help it. I know I should probably stop to prevent injury but I can't, not now. I need to finish this run.
Brent said the one thing that gets him through this is knowing that if something did happen to him that I would be alright because my faith in Jesus would get me through it. I feel a certainty in that too but right now I need Jesus to get me through today. I need to let Him take this fear and hold it for me so that I can be the mother He wants me to be for my girls. I need to let Him take over so that one day they can look back and know that the One I live for was the one who stepped up to the plate to take Brent's spot of support and reassurance to me through this whole time. This may be the greatest lesson I'll ever teach them and it will not be by my words but by the way I live right now, this moment and the moments to come. Now is not the time to give up and sit on the couch every day, throwing pity parties for myself. I want them to know that choosing Jesus doesn't mean you get a free pass from all the hard stuff in life but that when you do, He's there to see you through it. He wants to be our peace. He wants to hold us and comfort us when it seems we're hanging by a thread. The bonus is that when we draw ourselves so close to Him, He makes us more like Him. I pray that someday they will see God in all of this too.
I'm literally hobbling along now. I know I'm going to pay for this later and that I've let this battle inside me morph out onto the treadmill but I can't stop. I have to finish this run.
I focus my eyes for the hundredth time on the sign Brent hung for me to have in my line of sight as inspiration for these kinds of workouts. It's that war sign with the words "We Can Do It" over a woman flexing her arm. Today the "We" is Brent and myself and in my heart I hear the words "I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength."
"...Christ who gives me strength."
"...strength."
I finish my run.
I will be back tomorrow.
The first minutes are always like a dog tearing out the door after being cooped up inside all day. I've got my ishuffle cued to today's choices of Sara Groves songs and as always the lyrics serve like a person adding their wise observations to a conversation as I let my mind wander over the beautiful two weeks we had with Brent. There, of course, are memories too private to share and then their are the ones too precious not to. Like Sage skipping into the airport, chatting away about going to find Daddy and then the smile on her face as she shyly walked into his arms with no intentions of ever being let go of and not a single word left to say. Or Clare being at a water park and so overwhelmed by all the sights and sounds but the moment Brent came into view she screams out "DADA!" like she knew who was suppose to protect her.
I'm feeling great. Maybe I'll add minutes to this run today.
This goodbye was different then last time. I told Brent that the best way that I could describe how it feels to send my husband into a country where there are men at any corner who would give their lives end his is this: I'm standing on the shore of a frozen lake with my hands tied, mouth gagged and eyes blindfolded, knowing that Brent is on that lake walking over it hour after hour, day after day; and also knowing that there are parts of that lake where the ice is so thin he would be certain to fall through. If he did, I would not be able to help him and since I cannot see or hear him, I wouldn't even know it had happened until someone lifted that blindfold off my eyes. It took everything in me to let him go and watch his uniform disappear through the doors of the airport.
My knee is hurting a bit...weird. I read something that knee problems in runners can come from the runner turning their feet in when they step (I'm not even sure if I do that) so maybe I'll try focusing on the way I plant my foot...what do you know, it seems to help. I think the pain is going away.
I think I've been purposely avoiding the reality of where he is. No CNN, no FOX news, nothing. I wanted to avoid all reports of terrorist activities and live in the idea that it was relatively safe where Brent is. Brent's camera wasn't working either so I wasn't even getting pictures from him either. But then he came home and there were the less than expected conditions that he is living in and traveling in and not to mention, the time I slipped and watched a report of a suicide bomber in southern Afghanistan and listened as the Taliban claimed responsibility and promised more attacks in that area. That area...southern Afghanistan...where Brent is. My Brent, my most favorite person in the whole world, the man I want to laugh with and love for the rest of my life, the father of our sweet and innocent little girls. I know they just want to drive fear into us and well, I'm sorry but they have succeeded in scaring me. How am I suppose to be okay with this? How do I just sit here for the next five months waiting to see how it all pans out?
I think I started out too fast. My side is hurting now. I know if I focus on my breathing it will get better. This is not the wall, I will not stop for just this. I'll just breathe.
We keep saying that God has a purpose for us in all of this and things that He wants to show us and teach us. So I guess now would be a good time to start looking for today's lesson. In an instant the angels are flapping their wings again. I had been praying for God's angels to protect Brent and the men there and I all of sudden remembered that I'm not completely helpless...okay, okay, I know that when I'm relying on God to be my strength I'm never helpless. But the Bible talks a lot about angels and how many times they were used to bring messages and warnings and also to protect people. I figure they must be much more intimidating than any army we've got so, "Lord, send your strongest angels. Let them stand as a barrier between Brent and these men whose only mission in being there is to help the people of Afghanistan."
Pain is gone but the run isn't going as easy as I thought it would be. I won't be adding minutes to this run but I know I will finish it. Sage is running around in circles by me while Clare's taking her nap. I hope that as they grow up they get something out of being around us while we work out. I hope they will want to live healthy lives.
Two eyes, one pair green and often found in a look of deep contemplation as she figures out the workings of her world and the other blue and so ready to smile at what she knows in her young one year of life. They flash in my mind and all of a sudden I know that this journey, this difficult road is not only about what I can learn but also about what I can teach them.
My knee is hurting again and this time the way I step my foot isn't going to help it. I know I should probably stop to prevent injury but I can't, not now. I need to finish this run.
Brent said the one thing that gets him through this is knowing that if something did happen to him that I would be alright because my faith in Jesus would get me through it. I feel a certainty in that too but right now I need Jesus to get me through today. I need to let Him take this fear and hold it for me so that I can be the mother He wants me to be for my girls. I need to let Him take over so that one day they can look back and know that the One I live for was the one who stepped up to the plate to take Brent's spot of support and reassurance to me through this whole time. This may be the greatest lesson I'll ever teach them and it will not be by my words but by the way I live right now, this moment and the moments to come. Now is not the time to give up and sit on the couch every day, throwing pity parties for myself. I want them to know that choosing Jesus doesn't mean you get a free pass from all the hard stuff in life but that when you do, He's there to see you through it. He wants to be our peace. He wants to hold us and comfort us when it seems we're hanging by a thread. The bonus is that when we draw ourselves so close to Him, He makes us more like Him. I pray that someday they will see God in all of this too.
I'm literally hobbling along now. I know I'm going to pay for this later and that I've let this battle inside me morph out onto the treadmill but I can't stop. I have to finish this run.
I focus my eyes for the hundredth time on the sign Brent hung for me to have in my line of sight as inspiration for these kinds of workouts. It's that war sign with the words "We Can Do It" over a woman flexing her arm. Today the "We" is Brent and myself and in my heart I hear the words "I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength."
"...Christ who gives me strength."
"...strength."
I finish my run.
I will be back tomorrow.
Monday, January 19, 2009
We are Home
After three months of crashing at my parents home, we are back in NE and so happy to be home. There were many blessings to living up in MN for that time but it also feels so good to be in our own space on this earth. The time with Nana and Papa was very special for the girls and I will cherish the pictures in my mind of Sage clinging to my Dad for a special "Papa hug" or Clare having were dynamic conversations with Mom. It was a time filled with monumental moments like Sage becoming completely potty trained (thank you hot tub--you will never know what you mean to me) and Clare getting her first teeth and doing other firsts like crawling, pulling her self up, saying "hi" while waving at you and learning the "more" sign. For me it was a blessing to have someone else to share these moments with while Brent is gone. It was sad to have to say goodbye to them and while the quietness in their house now is probably a bit strange, I'm sure it's also welcomed. That, and the removal of the toys that somehow never stayed in the toy box when someone cleaned up are I'm sure very appreciated right now!
The drive back was long with icy roads over half of the journey. The girls and I stopped at my good friend Becky's house and spent the night on Saturday to break the trip up and to get a chance to visit with her. She and her husband, Travis, are amazing. Somehow they are able to not only stay sane but also to be an inspiration to everyone around them as they raise two VERY active boys who are 3 and 4 and twin girls who are 5 months old. I have no idea how they do it but they do. Yet even in all the chaos of their kids plus mine added to the mix, it was so fun to see them and to stay up and visit with Becky. I love this family and I always leave them feeling like I learned something new about God's love.
After the winter blog from earlier it was a shock to get into Omaha and see barely any snow on the ground and for the temperature to be 45 warm degrees! Thank you Lord! Sage was so thrilled to start seeing sights in the car that she recognized and when we finally came into the house she ran from room to room saying "I'm so glad to be home." Then they sat and went through all the toys that were left here and she would pick up the dinkiest toy that probably came from a happy meal and say "Look Mom, my kitty!" Clare on the other hand does not seem to recognize this as home and has been quite clingy but that doesn't surprise me too much. She only woke up once last night so that's a good sign.
I have many pictures from our stay in MN that I plan to share as soon as I demolish the piles of stuff that need to get put away.
The drive back was long with icy roads over half of the journey. The girls and I stopped at my good friend Becky's house and spent the night on Saturday to break the trip up and to get a chance to visit with her. She and her husband, Travis, are amazing. Somehow they are able to not only stay sane but also to be an inspiration to everyone around them as they raise two VERY active boys who are 3 and 4 and twin girls who are 5 months old. I have no idea how they do it but they do. Yet even in all the chaos of their kids plus mine added to the mix, it was so fun to see them and to stay up and visit with Becky. I love this family and I always leave them feeling like I learned something new about God's love.
After the winter blog from earlier it was a shock to get into Omaha and see barely any snow on the ground and for the temperature to be 45 warm degrees! Thank you Lord! Sage was so thrilled to start seeing sights in the car that she recognized and when we finally came into the house she ran from room to room saying "I'm so glad to be home." Then they sat and went through all the toys that were left here and she would pick up the dinkiest toy that probably came from a happy meal and say "Look Mom, my kitty!" Clare on the other hand does not seem to recognize this as home and has been quite clingy but that doesn't surprise me too much. She only woke up once last night so that's a good sign.
I have many pictures from our stay in MN that I plan to share as soon as I demolish the piles of stuff that need to get put away.
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