soaked and smiling

We made it back from the fall retreat in one piece. I did dive in as the last post suggested and got very wet. As in, it rained half the weekend. But I also had a great time with these students and so enjoyed their company. It took me a few hours to transition from mommy to youth leader. I think by midnight of the first night, the transition was complete. And because I cannot process life without photos, here are a few for your viewing pleasure.
These are the girls in my cabin. Y'all. Could they be any cuter? Seriously, I wasn't that cute in high school. Were you? I think people are getting cuter over the years. Survival of the Cutest.
We did a lot of walking this weekend. Lots of hills. And mud. I don't think the students even noticed the walking. And then there was me who was calculating how many days I could skip on the treadmill because of all the exercise I was getting.
There was also lots of silliness which is kind of my favorite. I think this is one reason I like students so much.
In between the silliness, there was serious as well. Each student received a block of wood in which they wrote down a negative word they believed was true about themselves. By the end of the weekend, these blocks were burned in a bonfire. An appropriate thing to do with lies, don't you think?What fall retreat would be complete without a square dance? Not only were there cowboy hats, overalls, pigtails and freckles, we also had a genuine square dance caller guy. You know, the one who tells you exactly what to do: Go-to-the-middle-and-BOW. Now-face-your partner-do-si-do. Now bow to your CORner, not YOUR girl she's the OTHER one. It was so awesome. And look who I got to dance with.
In my haste to capture this moment, I cut off his cowboy booted feet. Isn't he lovely? Don't you want to place the lives of your children in the capable hands of a youth pastor wearing a camouflage Waffle House shirt? Good times.

diving in

The Man has been in youth ministry for over seven years. During the first few, I was with him for nearly every ski trip, small group and sleepover. When the twins were born, it was time for me to shift my main focus from students to babies. But today, the high school students leave for their annual fall retreat. And guess who gets to go with them?

That's right! Chatty Emily will be hopping on one of four buses carrying 170 students out of town for the weekend. I'm looking forward to the opportunity to get to know some of them better. I'm excited about leaving the little ones in the capable hands of my parents so I won't have to worry. But I'm feeling old, y'all. I got an email last night with the minute by minute schedule for the weekend (I love an organized youth ministry). I read it slowly, picturing everything in my head, planning accordingly. It wasn't until I noticed the amused look on the Man's face that I realized I had been studying the schedule for...kind of a long time.

It was then that it hit me: motherhood has slowly sucked the spontaneity right out of my personality. I now have the need to plan, to know, to not be surprised. But anyone who works with teenagers, has teenagers or is a teenager knows that no amount of planning can insure a plan. Life simply doesn't work that way. Especially not in youth ministry.

So I have my bag packed, my phone charged, my camera ready. I'm trying my best to take off my mom-to-three-preschool-students hat and put on my laid-back-friend-to-high-school-students hat. Most importantly, I'm beginning to release my illusion of control and to instead allow Jesus to live through me, love through me and maybe even surprise me.

confessions

Thanks to my twin skin and permanent muffin top, I have finally perfected the fine art of tucking my tummy into my jeans before I sit down. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, don't ask questions. Bow your head. Thank the Lord. Say Amen. Don't look back.)
This is me today, in jeans. Nearly falling off the child-sized chair I'm standing on because I don't own a full length mirror. That is my shirtless son playing with the Polly pocket car that I just fished out of the toilet. Wonder how it got there? Anyway, I love these jeans because they are so comfortable. Wanna know why?
Because they are made for pregnant women. No, this is not my fun way of telling the world that I am pregnant. It is my fun way of telling the world that I'm a dork who is tired of fighting with jeans. I just want to be able to sit down without tucking. So today, I can. Hallelujah.

to be or not to be

Every cartoon should have two equally pretty, equally important, equally nice female characters. That way, my twin girls wouldn't fight over who gets to be Madeleine or Cinderella.

As the theme song to Clifford began the other day, one of the twins declared "I'm Emily Elizabeth!" in a sing-song, victorious kind of way. Of course, the other twin began to pout and stomp her foot declaring, "You ALWAYS get to be her!"

What's the big deal? I thought to myself. So I said, "You can both be Emily Elizabeth." Wrong solution, Mommy. More drama. Much complaining. Ridiculous, thought I.

And then, it all came back to me.

It's a school night in the mid-80's. ABC's Tuesday night lineup is only a few hours from airing: Who's the Boss, Growing Pains and Moonlighting. All of a sudden, my sister blurts out the all-coveted phrase: "I'm Alyssa! I'm Maddie! I'm Carol!" And just like the rules of shot-gun, whoever called it, got it. I'm not sure why we called Alyssa Milano by her real name and the other two by their character names. Still, the phrase was important. The winner watched in victory, the loser destined to imagine herself as Mona or Maggie or worse, Miss DiPesto.

So maybe my girls aren't so unreasonable after all. This memory helped me to empathize with their cause, their need to project themselves into the make-believe world of another. And their need to stand in the shoes of the heroine alone, without a measly sister sharing the spotlight.

I'm not saying it's healthy. I'm just saying it's true. So. Who did you want to be?

guess what I did yesterday?

I wasn't a photographer at their wedding. Just a friend with her camera and a slightly annoying obsession with the bride. I've said it before: I just can't resist taking photos at a wedding, even if I have to duck behind bushes so as not to annoy the real photographer.
That's better. They've waited a long time for this day. He looks delightfully relieved.

Friends Forever

So you know how last week I did a post about touring a real, live TV show set? And you know how at the end I asked y'all if any of you had done the same? And you know how I specifically asked if anyone had been to a taping of Friends? Well, guess what? His Girl is totally my favorite person to be jealous of today because she has been to a taping and she's talking all about it today on her blog. So if you miss the Friends or if you just want to discover a great blogger, head on over and check her out. You won't be disappointed. Well, you might, seeing as how you can't get tickets to see a live taping because they haven't taped this show in four years. But hearing stories like this helps us keep the Friends alive forever! Could I BE any more cheesy? I think not.

poor Nuby

Now that I've thrown out all my sippy cups, some of you sent me a helpful link to discern which Nuby cups are BPA free and which are not. It's too late for me, but save yourselves, people. This site has photos so you don't have to know the difference between standard, non-drip, tinted feeding system and the no spill gripper cup. Just look at the photos and see if they match what is in your cabinet.

Our poor Nubys. Turns out they were innocent afterall. Now I feel guilty for being all blamey towards them. Oh well. We did get the BPA free Nalgenes, though. A nice upgrade. That's what I get for watching the news from the treadmill. Can't get my Nubys straight.

Dear Nuby Sippy Cup,

You have been an important part of our morning and evening routines for over four years. As I wrapped my arms of comfort and safety around my little ones before they went to bed, you were their constant companion. You are pink. You are blue. You are cheap at Wal-Mart. You never once complained about those sharp teeth that habitually gnawed on your soft, chewy spout. Thousands of ounces of juice and milk have nourished my children because of you.

Unfortunately, Matt Lauer tells me you are poisonous.

As I collected your growing family of 16 and threw you in my trash, I confess my heart was flooded with equal parts nostalgia and betrayal. My children have loved you, carried you to preschool, Sunday school, the gym and family picnics. You have been there for the birthdays, the holidays, even the sick days. And what do they get in return? A tripled risk of cardiovascular disease and a heightened proclivity to diabetes.

No mother should have to explain to her children that their beloved sippy cups are dangerous. It is mean. There has been a positive side to your downfall, however: a shiny, green, not-quite-cheap, BPA free Nalgene water bottle that will last forever. And lots of extra room on the top rack of my dishwasher that has otherwise been crowded out by you and your 15 family members.

I am disappointed, Nuby. And although you are no longer welcome here, you will be dearly missed.

Emily

marching ants and moldy clothes

My computer has ants.

I opened my laptop and 15 ants scurried to safety under the jkl; and the asdf. My first instinct was to brush them off, but they were too fast for me. My second instinct was to type on the keys really hard and kill them in their hiding places.

I now realize that only means I'll have 15 dead ants in my computer forever. I'm just waiting for the ants to eat all my files and chew my photos to shreds. Tomorrow I'll wake up and they'll be making a colorful anthill next to my dead laptop. In matte finish.

My car had ants once. That was not a good day.

In other news, I am beginning to discover the uselessness of my procrastination. For example, I abhor putting the wet clothes from the washer into the dryer. It is a foul chore. I always have to pull really hard to loosen the jeans from their wet, heavy grip and then I end up banging up my knuckles in the process.

I hate this chore so much, I often put it off too long and have to re-wash the clothes to get the moldy smell off. It puts me in a bad mood, those wet clothes. They make my laundry room smell and my knuckles bleed. But it has to be done. So I decided to time myself to see how long this horrible, awful, back-breaking task actually takes.

28 seconds.

That's right, I spend hours (sometimes even days) putting off this most despised chore. All to avoid 28 seconds of work. Granted, the work is grueling. But it could be worse: I could not have a washer at all. Or a dryer. Or clothes.

What dreaded task are you putting off? I dare you to time yourself. What have you got to lose? Even if it ends up taking longer than you think, at least it's done.

the power of your stories

So far, seventy-three of you have shared the story of where you were on September 11, 2001. I have read every word from the comments section of that post. There was an incredible range of perspectives represented in those comments. A fifth grade student thought a plane would fly into her house and kill her family. A pregnant mama dreamed for weeks that 9/11 would be the day her baby girl would be born. There was the wife of a United Airlines worker, the wife of a police officer for the LAPD and the wife of a soldier. One reader was even at the trade center just an hour before the first plane hit.

Then there were stories like this one, simply stating the facts of her life at that time that could have been true for any of us: "I ruined my car. We were having a baby. Something horrible was happening in our Country. I got stung by a bee." I encourage you to check out her entire post on Brambleberry Grace, as it is worth the read.

We were doing the regular, normal life stuff: nursing babies, putting on makeup, watching Barney, teaching a class, enjoying a family vacation...when one tragic event interrupted each life and brought us all to a collective halt.

Thank you for remembering and sharing your story with us. Each one is individually vital to the greater story of our country as a whole, even Anonymous who doesn't care and thinks we should leave it alone. I know you have a story. And it is important, too.

in whom I trust

I drove to work in much the same way I had every other morning: listening to Bob and Sheri on the radio. They were telling jokes and funny stories. It was 8:45. I got there early and sat in the parking lot of the college where I was working as a sign language interpreter. I had been married nearly 3 months.

They interrupted the laughter and informed the listening audience that it appeared as though a small plane had just crashed into the World Trade Center. I had never been to New York and didn't know what the World Trade Center was. I pictured a large, open air market on Wall Street similar to a farmer's market with money and stock instead of fruits and vegetables.

I got out of my car and walked to the library. Still early, I checked my email and casually looked at nbc.com to see about that plane. There was a small photo of the tower with billowing smoke. The librarian and I chatted about the accident. She was only vaguely interested.

Later that night, when all the world had heard and the sky above our country was eerily quiet, I distinctly remember the fear. I was thankful we didn't have children yet. This place was too terrible, too unpredictable. Life was too fragile. We were not safe.

I am intrigued to hear stories of where people were when they learned about the events of September 11, 2001. What were you doing when the world changed? Who were you with when our lives were so rudely interrupted? What were you thinking on the day in between Before and After?

The next day, I wrote out Psalm 91 in my journal. He is always my only hope, but that day I felt it. If you don't believe in God or if you believe in God but aren't sure about the Bible, then it won't really mean much to you. But to me, it was a lifeline. It still is.

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High

will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord,

"He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust."
Psalm 91:1-2

poopie party

There is a POOPIE party going on over at Nesting Place today. You haven't heard of People Opposing Objectionable Pretend Plants In the Environment? (I know, it's should be POOPPITE, technically. But you know, whatever). Everyone who considers herself a POOPIE is linking up and posting photos of our fake plants: both our favorites and our fiascos.

Let me first say that the POOPIEs are not opposed to fake plants as a whole. Merely the fakes that look waxy and unnaturally bright and, well...FAKE.
This is my first favorite. I picked out these stems at Hobby Lobby using the Nesters' criteria: pick fakes that look as though they could be real, or at least could have been at one time.
Here's another favorite. These are the only fake flowers I have in the house. They have fooled a few people from time to time. I think it's because of the fake water in the bottom. I really like these. I know they are fake, but they are tasteful fake. And if you disagree, they were a gift from the Nester so take it up with her.
And here is my fiasco. I know it is wrong. It is all wrong. Previously I had a pot of real rosemary in that space. But real rosemary needs inconvenient things like light and water. So when it began to shed its needles like a Christmas tree, I set out to replace it with something. Hence this fiasco. It was a temporary fix. Inevitably temporary.

Do you have any fakes in your house? Are they fabulous or fiascos? Link up at the Nesting Place and let us see!

dear pumpkin spice latte,

When I saw the girl writing your name on the chalkboard at the Target Starbucks, my heart began to dance and sing. I knew it wouldn't be long. As much as I tried to wait until the temperature dropped to at least below 80 degrees, I cannot wait any longer.

Hello, my love. Hello my cinnamon friend, my autumn companion, my cup of frothy October. Your presence is a promise of fall, your steam whispers sweaters, football and bonfires. You are 16 ounces of liquid pie. And even though you are small, you bring so much joy and happiness to all who meet you.

I am sorry I tried to replace you with the International Delight impostor. True, he is more financially savvy than you. And he is willing to live in the midst of harsh conditions on the door of my fridge: the constant opening and closing; the blinking lights; the leftovers inches away. Although he is always available to me, standing tall between the ketchup and the Italian dressing...he is not you.

I love you, Pumpkin Spice Latte. I am so glad you are back.
Emily

Hollywood, North Carolina

In my last post I mentioned that the reception for the beach wedding was held in downtown Wilmington in this great old brick building.
But the important part is that it was situated right across the street from the wall Pacey bought Joey during Season 3 of Dawson's Creek. And with that, I know some of you just decided to remove me from your readers.

I didn't start watching the show until about halfway through the series. I spent many Wednesday nights rushing to Sissy's apartment by 8pm so I wouldn't miss the beginning. There were no DVRs for Dawson. It was kind of nice, though, as Sissy and I spent the commercials catching up on our days really fast until the show came back on. I like watching shows with friends.
There's me with Joey's wall. See how big it is? Wilmington is the home of the largest sound stage east of Hollywood, Screen Gems Studios. How do I know this? Duh, because when our wedding duties were over, we took a tour of it. Aside from being the former home of Dawson's Creek, the studio also films CW's One Tree Hill, which is the actual set we toured. I've never seen one episode of that show, but it was still pretty rad to be on a hot set of a current show. I know all the lingo.

While Joey's wall is a genuine brick wall in a real town, the brick they use to make porches on the set is really only painted wood. The granite counter top in the kitchen is painted wood. The sinks are painted wood. Kidding. The sinks are real, but they don't really work. Unless, of course, they drag the hose inside and hook it up, letting the water drain into a bucket underneath, out of site of the cameras, of course.

Now the actors, they really are painted wood. Pretty talented set designers if you ask me. So tell me: have you ever been on a set tour? a live taping of a show? an extra in a movie? I want to hear all about it. Especially if the show was Friends. Just being honest.

color favorites

I really hope you all don't hate photo posts. Because I'm totally doing one today. And something else about me: I cannot mix black and white photos with color photos. If I ever put photos in an album or on a wall, there is to be no mixing. That's just me.
As I've mentioned before, my friend Alisa hired me to be her second shooter for a wedding at the beach (don't we totally sound like assassins?) These are some of my favorite color photos from that day.
I'm including this one mainly to show you that on the Southeast coast, we have grass on our beaches. Aren't we cute? Alisa is from California and she didn't believe it until she saw it with her own eyes.
Alisa was the main photographer so she had all the responsibility. I just got to have fun. Which is why I had time to take this photo of a guest just before the wedding. I kind of want to be her.I really like the angle of this photo, but I also wanted to share with you our dilemma that evening: the sunset. Notice the giant standing in the back? Her shadow was basically in the center aisle the entire time.
This lucky groom didn't have to wear a tux or even shoes.
Here's a wide angle shot from the back. The psychology of groups is fascinating to me. There were 30 folding white chairs set up, obviously not enough for everyone. Turns out, most of the chairs remained empty because nobody wanted to take up a chair.
Detail shot of her dress. I had to include this one. I love a bride who isn't worried about a little sand on her train.
Speaking of sand and details, here is Emily trying to be cool and artsy. I was focusing on the sand on purpose, but it sort of just looks like a blurry bride and groom. Still, I can't help myself. I kind of like it.Don't you love it when a groom dips his bride for the kiss? I sure do.
They were chatting with guests after the ceremony and I paparazzied around them like a fool to get this shot.The sun was setting at the perfect time, just when we were finishing up with the photos of the family.The reception was in a cool building in downtown Wilmington right across the street from where Dawson's Creek filmed the one where Pacy bought Joey a wall. Yes, we did go back the next day and take photos in front of "the wall". This one may be my most favorite of the color shots. A perfect way to end a wedding: with friends and fire. And with that last photo, I realize all of my favorite colors only show the back of the brides' head. I'll have to rethink that in the black and whites.

Balancing Beauty and Bedlam

There is a family at our church whose oldest son is a freshman in high school. They have 5 children and have figured out at least one of them will be in our youth group for the next 15 years. Needless to say, we are getting to know them.
We drove out to their house on Labor Day. While the guys went to play golf, we girls stayed home and made pizzas.
Well, Jen and the kids made pizzas and I took photos because that's just what I do. Some of you may recognize her from her blog, Balancing Beauty and Bedlam. Let me be the first to tell you: she does. Look how happy she is balancing all that bedlam!
This family is living their dream (and maybe mine as well). They live on 10 bajillion acres with their grown siblings and their spouses and between them have 10 bajillion kids. Or 19, but still. Here are some of the older ones taking the younger ones to the field.
They have lots of fields on their land. Fields and trees and kid-made forts. A dream, I tell you. Their family is adorable, their love for one another is contagious and Jen manages to weave her sweet, carefree spirit in and around every aspect of their home. She is a homeschooling mom who has purposed to choose joy even in the midst of chaos. She loves yard sales, coupons and family traditions. If you haven't met her yet, head on over and check her out.

a preview

This is the scene before the guests sat down at the wedding I shot with Alisa a few weeks ago. It was on the beach and very small, as you can see. I look forward to sharing more of them here. Until then, here is one of my favorites from her bridal portrait session.When I am able to sit down and sift through, I will show you some photos from the actual wedding day with like, the groom and everything. Until then, here's a detail shot. I just can't resist capturing the details. It's my favorite.

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.