A Repost. Because I Need the Reminder

(This was originally posted on May 7th 2007)

Taming the Waddle: A How To.

The side to side sway of a pregnant woman in motion is endearing. That is as long as you aren't the actual pregnant woman. When you start logging more left-right miles than forward ones, you know you are officially waddling. I have put together this little How-To (or how-not-to) for the benefit of pregnant mothers everywhere.

The Why of the Waddle:

We can blame it on the hormones. Don't we blame everything on the hormones? Global warming? Must be the hormones. Crying over a stack of dirty dishes? Must be the hormones. Food going bad in the fridge? Hormones. But this one is legit. The hips are falling apart. Literally. Hormones cause all the ligaments in your hips to stretch and the cartilage to soften. A big ole baby has to pass through there, remember? And so, the way is prepared. But it leads to soreness in the hips and the classic waddle. Lovely.

Most of the time, around the house I just go with it. I sway and lumber around not caring how long it takes me to get across the room and definitely not caring how clumsy I appear. Oh my goodness, gracefulness went out the window many moons ago. But there are public situations where I would prefer to appear a bit more controlled. The side to side saunter isn't necessarily what I'm going for. So I try with all my might to appear to be a normal walking human being. Here is what I have come up with.

Concentration:
This is huge. Diverting your body from the natural way that it wants to cross the room is no small feat. This is going to take some serious focus. So gather your thoughts, pour every ounce of brain energy that you have into this. You may want to avoid conversing. This is no time to multi-task.

Eyes:
Now, following the theme of concentration, it might help you to focus your eyes on a specific point on the other side of the room near your destination. Lock on. Don't look to the left or the right. Again, we need to concentrate here.

Posture:
This is the time to practice everything your mother taught you. She didn't remind you to "stand up straight" for nothing. She had foresight. This is the moment to call upon that wisdom and put it into practice. So, tuck those hips back under yourself. Pull in whatever abs are holding on for dear life under that belly. Chest up, shoulders back. Whew! This is hard isn't it?!

Motion:
Ok, here we go. Now the most important thing is to keep those legs in line. They are going to want to turn out and go the path of least resistance, but we need to bring them under submission. At least until we get across the room. Take it slow, one foot in front of the other in a straight line. Keep the head up, keep the shoulders back. Avoid scowling. Seriously, you are going to want to scowl.

Once you have made it to your destination across the room, find a chair. That was a high impact workout, you deserve to sit down. Make sure you don't do too much too soon. You might want to work your way up from a few steps to a walk across the room. Eventually you may even be able to shop for an hour or so with out waddling. That is for the advanced student though, so don't push yourself.

I hope this was an informative tutorial. I am my own student, trying my best to glide across the room in this distorted body of mine. If you see me and I am walking, please don't try to talk to me. I'm concentrating.

Tub Talk

Three kids in the tub: Jack, Gemma, and Toby. I overhear the following conversation:

Jack: "Don't drink the water, people pee in it."
Gemma: "Like I did?"
Jack: "Like I'm doing right now."

A Short List

Things I love about summer that don't have anything to do with the pool:

• Fresh blueberries are finally affordable.
• So are cherries. So messy but so yummy.
• Bare feet not only inside but outside too.
• Spur of the moment marshmallow roasting on the deck.
• Eating way more than my fair share of marshmallows because I'm the mom.
• The hum of lawn mowers.
• Watching my flower beds change each year.
• The smell of chlorine (Sorry, I couldn't resist. I love the pool)

There are so many more things I love. What about you?

A Vacation Post

We got back from vacation almost two weeks ago and it's been a whirlwind ever since. I'm finally getting around to posting a few pics.

The first two days we were there, we were shivering. Minnesota weather is so unpredictable. Then the sun came out, the temperature rose, and we were able to do what we love most: veg out at the beach. And of course, on the way home, we stopped at Treasure City. Just like we always do.

Here are a few of my favorite pics.

Checking in.

I promise I'm still alive. It's just that we got back from vacation and then it was Jack's birthday and now we are finishing up a week of Vacation Bible School.

Oh, and I'm 34 weeks pregnant.

I'm tired.

To My Newly Six Year Old

Dear Jack,

Before I say anything else, I have to apologize for cutting your bangs two days before your birthday. Not sure what I was thinking. They aren't straight, that's for sure. You look like you should be a member of the Beatles. Don't worry, I have an appointment for you to get it fixed tomorrow morning, but that's one day late for all the birthday pictures. Sorry.

You are an absolute joy. Six suits you. That smirk, the giggle, the witty comments. Not a day goes by that you don't totally crack me up. I hope you enjoyed your birthday. It started with donuts and ended with candy.

When we snuck away to Dairy Queen together this afternoon I couldn't help but chuckle. I was heading out of the driveway to drop Tyler off at baseball practice and on a whim I invited you to jump in the backseat, fully prepared to sneak some ice cream with you. It wasn't until we were almost there that I thought to take a look at what you were wearing. A glance in the rearview mirror confirmed what I suspected. You were wearing the shirt you slept in, a pair of shorts and no shoes. But you know what? It's your birthday so whatever. I let you pick anything you wanted off the menu and you chose the most expensive thing they offer and then ate just a few bites. We sat out on the picnic table and talked about what you wanted to buy with all you birthday money. So many options.

I know some day your voice will drop an octave and you won't skip the number 38 when you count to 100. You will probably eventually brush your teeth unprompted. For now I'm just trying to eat up every moment with you. Happy birthday buddy.

Mom

I'll Be Sitting On The Beach With A Good Book

Today after church we head out for vacation at the lake.

Suitcases? Check
Jet skis? Check
Annual day-before-vacation emotional meltdown? Check

Am I the only mother who is overwhelmed by the amount of work it takes to get ready for relaxation? Every year I question the sanity of even going when the preparation stresses me out so much. There is always so much grumbling and crying and gnashing of teeth, and that's not the kids that's me. Bless Nate's heart, he has come to expect it and does an amazing job waiting it out and enduring the Heth until I finally come around and we roll out of the driveway, beach bound.

It's all worth it, laying on a floaty in the crystal clear water, soaking up the sun.

Adios! I'll be at the beach.

How To Be Pregnant In the Summer

With the temps and humidity both hitting the 90s, (ok, maybe not the humidity, but it feels like it) I have discovered the secret of how to not swell up like a balloon this summer. The belly is swelling like a balloon, but it's supposed to.

Yesterday we headed to the pool at one o'clock. I planted my behind on the prickly cement, feet dangling in the water, it was the stuff dreams are made of. At least my dreams. I only had to leave for about forty five minutes to go to my 31 week appointment just a few blocks away. I went in my suit. I'm sure the OB appreciated that.

And then it was back to the pool. We didn't pack up and leave until seven pm. It was one of those days where the stars aligned and no one was whining to go home. At least until supper time. Today we are all moving a little cautiously, what with the pink shoulders and noses. I love it.

Now THIS is summer.

Mexico

Nate has been out of town for the last week. He was on a mission trip to Mexico. I didn't say anything about him being gone while he was gone, you know, axe murderers and everything.

It was a roller coaster of a week. We had a couple crazy incidents with kiddos, one involving a child who scaled the front of the entertainment center in pursuit of a DVD on the top. Of course, like I have always warned would happen, the whole thing came crashing down on top of the child, who is totally OK by the way. Stuff like that. Dear, dear friends of ours moved away quite suddenly this week. We miss them already.

But through it all I had such an amazing emotional strength and peace. A peace that can't be explained. Nate arrived at ten forty five last night and it is so, so good to have him home.

Four: The Real Story

Don't let the sweet grin and cute little bob fool you. The previous post about my newly four year old is a snapshot of sugar and spice and all that is nice. That's not the truth. The truth is, the past few weeks have brought out a whole 'nother side of Gemma. A side that is the "terrible twos" multiplied by two...thousand.

We have entered a new phase of wildly swinging emotions, flailing-writhing temper tantrums, and lots of tears. Is four the new fourteen? Every day I have to make the weighty decision; do I try for the nap or not? Is it worth it? On most nap days she wakes up like a raging bear roused prematurely from hibernation. It's a gamble. Are those minutes of silence worth the aftermath?

Oh let this pass quickly. Please, for the love of all that is right and good, let's just skip straight to five.

Birthday Girl

Watch out world, somebody just turned four and she's got wheels.

Transformation

Oh what a difference a haircut makes.

School's Out

Summer is upon us. The kids are out of school and spending the days climbing trees, riding bikes, making backyard forts, and toad hunting.

My poor, poor flower beds.

Recent casualties include:

• My Bleeding Heart and surrounding ferns murdered by little boys looking for a soft place to "camp".
• A struggling little baby hosta, trying to find it's way in the cold hard world but living too close to the egress window, the potential home to small animals who have fallen into their prison
• Colombine, plucked for it's unique blossom shape, the perfect addition to a home grown backyard concoction of some kind.
  

On a happier note, I finally cleared off my kitchen table. (Don't count the days on that one) and we are finally eating indoors, all together again. Hallelujah.

Pray

“To pray, I think, does not mean to think about God in contrast to thinking about other things, or to spend time with God instead of spending time with other people. Rather, it means to think and live in the presence of God. As soon as we begin to divide our thoughts about God and thoughts about people and events, we remove God from our daily life and put him into a pious little niche where we can think pious thoughts and experience pious feelings. … Although it is important and even indispensable for the spiritual life to set apart time for God and God alone, prayer can only become unceasing prayer when all our thoughts —beautiful or ugly, high or low, proud or shameful, sorrowful or joyful —can be thought in the presence of God. … Thus, converting our unceasing thinking into unceasing prayer moves us from a self-centered monologue to a God-centered dialogue.”

-Henri Nouwen

Disclaimer: I am not endorsing Henri Nouwen or his teachings. I don't know enough about him to make that call. I just know that when I read this quote it really resonated with me, especailly the part in bold. (Emphasis mine) I know that for me personally, it's true that the majority of my thought life is a "self centered monologue" and my deisre is that it becomes a God-centered dialogue.

"Break Resistant" Is Not The Same As Shatter Proof

Tonight's mess makes the top five Laundry Pile Family messes of all time. Maybe the top three.

Others in the top five include :

• Jack Vs. The Carpet.
• An incident that was pre-blogging days involving our oldest child (then two-ish), an entire jug of liquid laundry detergent, and the bedroom carpet of our rented apartment.
  
• Anything involving barf.
  
• Anything involving Desitin

This was a different kind of mess; this one involved a plate. A Corelle plate. They are supposed to be pretty difficult to break. Broken plates have happened before around here but always on a hard kitchen floor; a surface that can be swept and mopped.

Tonight we were eating supper on the deck. While that sounds summery, nostalgic, and very Norman Rockwell of us, the reality is that I have too many stacks of to-be-sorted papers on the kitchen table to actually eat there. So we ate our BLT's outside. One plate ended up balancing on the deck railing and eventually made the inevitable plunge down, down, down into the sandbox. Which would have been fine except for the fact that our artsy-fartsy sandbox is edged in boulders. Of course the plate landed directly on one of the boulders and proceeded to shatter into a million pieces, most of them microscopic. I almost cried.

The glass was as widespread as ten feet away from the original break all the way into the grass. I hand picked every single visible piece and then I skimmed off the top layer of sand. The sandbox is now off limits to all children until the sand can be replaced.

Tomorrow is the last day of school. Nothing says summer vacation like a sandbox full of shards of glass. Good dang times.

I Know He Will Never Be Terrible

Toby turned two on Saturday. We celebrated by going out to eat as a family. Since little Mr. Man hasn't had the greatest track record at restaurants lately, we decided to go somewhere that would be appropriate for a squirmy two year old. Burger King Playland.

We drove to the nearby Bigger Town and hit a BK that we had never been to before. We ventured into the unknown and explored strange new worlds, we sought out new life and new civilizations, we went where no man has gone before. We came out with an obscene number of little cheap Star Trek toys that say "Beam me up." when you hit the button. Imagine how fun the ride home was. They have all been confiscated.

Here we have birthday boy appropriately celebrating with two toddler sized burgers.

Happy Birthday Toby.

Flowers

Let me share some of my early summer flowers with you.

My soon-to-be sister in law took this photo of some Lily of the Valley. I just love the shallow depth of field in this photo, it looks almost lacy.



Iris buds remind me of lipsticks twisted all the way up. Either that or ballet slippers. I'm weird like that.



Along that same association theme, this fuchsia plant makes me think of a Barbie I had when I was a kid. She was some kind of a fancy formal Barbie who had a ruffly salsa type dress that could be wrapped around her body in all different ways to create different looks. It was the same colors as this fuchsia. Again, weird. I know.

I had a lot of fun playing with the depth of field and these daisy buds. I'm so excited for them to bloom, this plant is loaded this year.

Remember our sand box project a couple years ago? The plants are really filling in. It's going to look great when they are all blooming. The kids keep moving the rocks around. I give up. It's their sand box, let them rearrange.


I took this one last night in the early evening when the sun was filtering through the trees in our backyard. It was one of those serene moments where everything is lovely, and you just want to lay back in the grass, close your eyes, and breathe deeply.

Food and Fun and Food

The internet has undoubtedly expanded my recipe choices. Thanks Al Gore! I hit my family with something new, yet again. This one went over a little better, for the most part. There is just something about a salad for supper in the summer time. Light, fresh, and yummy, it always hits the spot on a hot day. As soon as I saw this one, I knew I had to try it. Spicy Honey Chicken Salad. Mmmm.





The avocados were not a favorite with some of the kids, but they loved mango. Everyone was asking for more chicken, it was fantastic.

We got together with friends for some Memorial Day grilling and I knew I wanted to make that chicken, I couldn't get it out of my mind. I also took a Pioneer Woman recipe. She hasn't let me down yet. Everything on her site is amazing. The Fluffy New Potatoes went over well. They were just the right size to pop in your mouth. Not necessarily a good thing.

A for sure good thing? Playing the paper game with a fifteen crazy friends. Hilarious.

Because Casual Is The New Dressy

When our seven year old laid eyes on this photo of me and Nate circa 1993ish, he erupted into laughter. Nate probed as to the reason, what could possibly be so hilarious? He started with the obvious, "Is it because dad is a lot skinnier in this picture?" No. "The ridiculous glasses?" No. "Then what?"

"DAD! You have your shirt stuffed into your pants!"

Breathe Deeply

On either side of my front steps grows a little patch of lily of the valley. Despite being trampled by small feet that cut across, right through the green leaves to the steps, it continues to grow. Every April and May up shoot little stems adorned with neat rows of dangling, delicate white bells. They are so dainty and so sweet to look at, but even more appealing is the aroma. I'm not sure how such a powerful fragrance can come from such a small flower. I cut a couple of stems, stuck them in a little jar, and put them in the window sill over the kitchen sink.

As I stand there on the sticky kitchen floor amongst the piles of dirty dishes, cluttery counters, and stacks of unsorted papers, it's tempting to become overwhelmed. And then the whining starts inside my head. "Will the work ever end? Why isn't anyone helping me? I'm pregnant, I should be sitting down with my feet up, reading a book and sipping on ice water. How am I raising such inconsiderate slobs?" It just gets ridiculous. Each thought feeding the next, the stench of my discontent creating a dark cloud of grumbling around me.

As I turn my head, a tendril of lily of the valley aroma finds it's way to my face. I breathe deeply. Such a sweet smell. A breath of fresh air in the middle of my mess. A reminder of the tender love of my God. Along with millions and billions of other species of plants, He decided to create these delicate, intricate, fragrant flowers. Why? He didn't have to. I am overcome with awe of His attention to detail and His mind blowing creativity. I turn my attention to the small beauties and suddenly the work doesn't seem so difficult. Suddenly I don't feel so alone and so overwhelmed.

I feel loved.