what I've been doing

These are books on The Man's bedside table. There is always a stack at least this high. I used to remove them everyday and put them back on the shelf. I stopped doing that last year when I began to appreciate what those books say about him. Notice the two different versions of the Bible. He likes to compare things. And the one third from the bottom? That is no book, my friends. That is the 3rd season of The Office. I say all this because The Man has been on my mind even more than usual, as this week we celebrated his birthday. So I've been doing that.
Also, we had around 40 high school students over a few nights ago for a leadership interest meeting. Such a cool bunch, they are.
Today, I've been working on this. Next week is the much anticipated consignment that I sell things in every year. I pulled some things out of the garage and this is what I end up with. I can't wait to see what happens when I actually clean out drawers and closets. We have entirely too much stuff.

Through A Glass, Darkly

We met during the fall semester of 1997. I was a junior in college and she was a freshmen. She is one of those girls who I've always liked but haven't always known well. And then one day a few years ago when I was isolated from the outside world because I was home nursing twins all day or something like that, she told me about her blog. (Here she is last fall in NYC. Her husband took this photo and I kindly stole it from their flickr site.)
I didn't know much about blogging, so she explained it to me, as she had been blogging since February of 2004. That's right. 2-0-0-4. I think in blog years that makes her like, 68. So wise in the ways of the blog, that one. I looked her up and discovered another side of Kari that I hadn't known before.

I was immediately drawn to her vulnerability, insight and dry humor. The parts of her personality I already enjoyed were even more vivid in her writing, like a favorite book marked up with a hi-liter. I love learning things about my friends in real life that may never come up in conversation but are communicated naturally on a blog. Her voice inspired me to find my own, and I am thankful to her for that.

She is a reader of real books. One hundred and fifty-two of them last year alone. She often reviews them on her blog. She hosted a party for the series finale of Gilmore Girls and gave away fantastic prizes, including a Rory and Lorelai CD mix. She loves the farmer's market and makes pies from scratch. Her husband is a teacher. She does not like dogs or card games. She is a firm supporter of not washing the dishes before you put them in the dishwasher. She has faith in God and believes he is big enough to handle hard questions.

Kari is also a writer. When you are a reader and a writer and you blog consistently over four years, your blog is bound to reveal growth and insight that only reflections over time can bring about. That is one of the many things I love about Through A Glass, Darkly. Each time I read one of her post I do one of three things: laugh, cry or nod my head in agreement. I encourage you to check out my friend in real life.

blog high

I am having comment withdrawals this morning. Seriously, you Sitstas from SITS are the best ever! I've read other featured bloggers talk about how much fun it is, but until it happened to me I had no idea, being so egocentric and all. Isn't that what blogs are all about? Me? Anyway, thank you all for the comment love. It was fun! And thanks to Heather and Tiffany, the brain-parents of the secret. You girls are fabulous.

I had so much fun being featured that I want to spread the love and feature someone else. But seeing as how I'm still in the self-focus mode, I'm going to wait until tomorrow to post it (ie. it's still not done). So come back and check her out. You're gonna love her!

Meanwhile, feel free to read more about me. Me, me, me.

chat with me, sitstas!

Today's my SITSDAY! I feel so famous that I asked myself for my autograph this morning. Then I graciously posed for a self-portrait. I'm not one to let things go to my head, you know.

I am so excited to be included among so many other fantastic featured bloggers. So if you are visiting from SITS (The Secret is In The Sauce) then I say a hearty Welcome. Here's to you staying long enough to enjoy yourself but not so long that you discover what a freak I am.

a hard day in the forest

This isn't the first time her arm fell off. I doubt it will be the last.

Though thankful for the hot glue gun, I remain concerned about the scar tissue.

speaking of a mothers love

She just had this little bundle of delight one week ago. They came over to have dinner and we couldn't resist an impromptu photo shoot in my sunroom. This is one of my favorites.

the heart of a hero

She wanted another son. She and her husband already had one baby but struggled to conceive another. They chose to adopt. And so she waited. She dreamed. Then, she waited some more. She fought hard against insurmountable odds that culminated to a dark and hopeless hour last week when it seemed they would never be allowed to bring him home.

Just when it seemed she might have to let him go, they received the email that changed everything. Contrary to all they thought would be true for them, they prepare to leave on Friday for a trip around the world to bring their little boy home.

Last night, I attended her baby shower. I sat in her sister's living room and watched as she opened packages of hope and happiness disguised as tiny boy clothes. She was giddy and overwhelmed, helpless to hide her tears of relief.

I couldn't keep my eyes from settling on the photo hanging behind her of the son she was preparing to meet. A dark haired boy with a wide, toothless grin. He is an orphan destined to remain so unless someone, somewhere fights for him.

Not because he earned it. Just because he is.

The heart of a mother reflects the heart of God like nothing I have ever seen. Her love is no less passionate or fierce whether that baby is growing inside her own body, born of a woman on the other side of the world or born only in her heart as she struggles to conceive. A mother loves her baby without condition or expectation. She will wait any amount of time, travel any distance, fight any battle.

A hero indeed.

recipe for a good morning

One small vase of flowers.

One cardboard box.

One bowl of blueberries.

One princess vitamin.

One forty minute phone chat with my sister.

Finding joy in the simple things has come easy today.

she's looking for a name

All your ideas from my last post have me wishing I had a wet bar in every room of my house. Thanks for all your input and creative advice. I'll update you when I decide which great idea I'm going to choose. For now, I have a lot on my mind, but not much to say. Nothing is wrong but things are not quite right, either.

I haven't named my house yet. I thought it would come quickly once we moved in. But just like those boxes in the garage, she is slow to open herself up to us. It is taking more time to know her than I thought it would. And it has me grumpy.

We have ground bees in our yard. I know they have to go. The problem is, I just finished reading The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd. I know all about the bees. And I feel so guilty for killing them.

I saw Mama Mia! in the theater and it was awesome. I had to grip my seat to keep from skipping down the dimly lit aisle with my hands waving in the air, singing "See that girl, watch that scene, dig in the dancing queen!"

These thoughts may seem disconnected to you. And in many ways, they are. But in my head, they all run together like a tri-colored ball of play-doh: Grumpy. Guilty. Glee.

My dad always tells me I need to lighten up. That sounds nice...to be light. I know he is right, that it is possible to live life lightly. These days, though, the layers of my existence are coming to the surface through little things like bees and songs in movies.

I'm sorry if this doesn't makes sense. I'm sorry to be clouding up your sunny Monday with crazy chats that don't connect. I'll try to have more of a point next post. In the meantime, if you feel as though you've seen enough house photos on my blog to get a feel for the name of my house, let me know. This silent treatment she's been giving me is getting old.

sunroom woes

I need help. See that room through those doors? That is our sunroom. I'm a minimalist and don't believe in furniture. Or this photo was taken the day before we moved in.
Here's the deal: there is sort of a wet bar in the sun room. The wine thing is broken. The faucet is 1964. And well, we don't really have a use for it, as we aren't what you would call an alcohol family. Not that I know anyone I would call "an alcohol family". You know what I mean.
I know there are tons of things to do with a wet bar besides serving alcohol from it. The problem is, I just can't think of any of them.
So help me. What do I do with this space?
While you think, here's a photo to prove we have furniture. The wet bar is there on the left, just out of the shot. Now help!

using time unwisely

So, what do you do when the your baby naps, the twins are at a friends house and your dishes are sitting dirty in your sink?

81 words

back again

I had fun this weekend as Alisa's sidekick photographer for the beach wedding. I can't show you any photos yet because it's probably a good idea to wait until the bride sees them. I will say after shooting a wedding on the beach at sunset, I have a few new favorites in my portfolio. That would be even more awesome if I had a portfolio.
This is the happy couple a few weeks before the wedding. I definitely love the experience of being one of the primary photographers at a wedding, and these two were perfectly laid-back which helps make the whole thing less stressful. I don't know if I'll ever do it again in an official sort of way, but I'm sure glad I did it this time. I can't wait to post more photos in the coming weeks. Don't worry, I'll only show you my very, very favorites. No danger of this becoming the portfolio that I don't have.

moving on

To all you fellow fans of So You Think You Can Dance who don't have dancing partners (aka. friends to watch the show with), I urge you to find some between now and next year. I had to watch the results show by myself last night. It was fabulous, but when judge Mary Murphy showed up on the dance floor in hot tamale red, I almost fell off the couch by myself and then continued to watch her dance through slightly parted fingers. All of that would have been much more exciting in a group.

In other news, I am headed to the beach in a few hours to help my friend Alisa photograph a wedding. A real wedding. We did her bridal portraits a few weeks ago. I look forward to the real thing.
How's that for a teaser? When I return I'll have to show you photos of her actual face, which is lovely. I sure hope this goes well.

last call for the hot tamale train

I am in mourning for the end of my only summer TV show.

I am a big fan of So You Think You Can Dance. I've watched since the beginning. A few years ago, I saw Snow from season 1 in NYC at Wicked on Broadway. She was in the audience and walked past me during intermission. I almost followed her but I was 7 weeks pregnant so the idea of celebrity stalking seemed to take too much energy (though I have stalked celebrities before). Not to mention the fact that I would have probably puked on her stilettos.

For the first 2 seasons, I was a closet watcher. Until last year when I hit the jack-pot and discovered a group of girls who actually got together and watched. Every week. With party food. And you know what else they did? They voted. They all pulled out their cell phones at the end, and voted for their favorite dancer. These chicks were serious.
So serious that we ended up going to the tour when it came to town. We made t-shirts and everything. By "everything" I mean we actually wore the t-shirts. And were gawked at by other tour goers straining to read our chests bedecked with iron on letters stating phrases from the show like "Welcome your Jidges!" and "Shut the front door."
Tonight they will announce the results of last nights voting, much of which took place right in Kendra's living room, as you can see if you look closely enough. So I'm kind of sad, in a surfacy sort of way. I love the show, the dancing, the personalities of the contestants. Mostly, though, I'm going to miss the weekly excuse to hang out with my dancing friends.

calling all freak-makers!

Want to find Emily from Chatting at the Sky? Try typing in these oh-so-obvious phrases in google:

the nester babies
magic bean wishes
went pee in the pool
nosey friends wanting to see remodeling before completion
(What is this? I have never felt this way about my friends. Honest.)

Ready for the best one?

how to make a freak (Chatting at the sky was on page one. Result four. Oh my.)

Now that I've actually typed them all here together, I'm sure the searches will get even more interesting.

back

Believe it or not, last week I really was on vacation. I know my post about what I wasn't doing threw you off because I'm so sneaky like that. I had done most of the babysitting posts before I left town but I did cheat and clean them up a bit while we were gone.
Now that we're back, I promise I'm not going to write a long post about my great vacation to Hilton Head Island in South Carolina.
Don't worry, I won't go on and on about what a blessing was to watch our girls be sweet to their baby brother...
and to have The Man all to ourselves.
I know you don't want to hear about how the twins are big enough to ride their bikes with us now.
Or what a perfectly pleasant date night The Man and I had at the harbor watching the sunset
while we ate our fancy dinner. I certainly won't waste any of your time telling you that I think that flower alone cost $12.50.

So now I've got laundry. And mail. And coupons that need cutting. So I'm gonna go do that. And I most certainly won't be dreaming about going on vacation.

things babysitters wish we knew: part four

(I posted a part 3 follow up on paying the sitter last night if you missed it.)

I didn't intend to take up an entire week posting about babysitting, but I'm kind of glad I did. I certainly feel so much more comfortable using my sitters after talking with these girls. I hope you do as well. Here are some final snippets of good info they offered.

Hiring a sitter on a school night? Tell them ahead of time if your kids will be going to bed while they are there so they know if they should bring homework or not. The evenings are their homework time but they won't bring it if they think the kids will be awake.

Sitters plan stuff after sitting. So calling while you are out and asking if you can stay out a few more hours is usually not cool. They will always say yes because you are the grown up. But then they will rearrange or cancel their own plans. We don't want them to have to do that.

They would rather deal with the mom than the dad. That's just the way it is. Dads are awkward. That's what they said.

Having dad's pick up the sitter and take them home is a bad idea. A man in a car alone with a teenager who can't drive yet is never a comfortable thing for her. Not to mention the fact that you want your man to avoid any situation where someone could misinterpret his intentions, if you know what I mean. You just never, ever know. So avoid it. Your sitter will thank you.

They call their own mom before they call you. You call out over your shoulder as you leave the house: "Call if you need anything! Anything at all." They never will. Can't find the wipes? They'll use a wet paper towel. Don't know how to work the TV after the kids have gone to bed? They'll sit in bored silence until you get home. They would rather improvise than bother you.

From their perspective, bringing you back into the situation you are paying them to handle means they are basically not doing their job. I can't think of a mom in the world who thinks this way. The rare times sitters have called me, I've been thrilled. But in their eyes, they would rather do ANYTHING than call you.

In fact, I asked them to finish this sentence: "I think you'll never ask me to babysit again if..." Two out of three said "...I have to call you because the baby won't go down." I went on to ask them if there was any circumstance under which they would call.

"If someone gets really hurt or stops breathing." I think they may have been exaggerating a bit on that one.

So instead of risking never being asked to babysit again, they do what is safe and natural for them: they call their mom. They also added it isn't so much for Mom to tell them what to do, but to reassure them they made the right choice. Basically, that they aren't failing at their job. Their words, not mine. Wow.

They check on kids while sleeping. They are worried they will stop breathing. They don't like to be the last one to have seen the kids before they go to bed in case something goes wrong in the night...especially with the babies.
Either I have some exceptional, out of the ordinary sitters, or all women are basically alike. They sound like new mothers: calling their moms, checking on sleeping babies, worried about if they are making the right choices. I say all this to remind us moms of the great opportunity we have using high school students to watch our little ones. Not only are they the coolest people on planet earth to our kids (and to me, let's be honest). But these girls are just like us...only younger, more stylish and stretch-mark free. I think they need to know that we support and appreciate them.

Thank you all for the awesome commenting that went on this week. And thank you sitters for being real with me and staying the night with me when the man left town and not killing me for posting this photo that you took with my computer while I was sleeping at 3 am.

Speaking of while I was sleeping, has anyone noticed that I have Sandra Bullock as a sitter? I mean really, people...she looks just like her.