Ministry goals

Hopefully, it comes as no surprise to you (whoever you are) that Matt and I are currently in the midst of a church transition. Ethnos, the church where we have spent the last 5-6 years of our lives and ministry, is drawing to a close, which leaves us "homeless" for the time being. Over the past couple of months we have had the opportunity of visiting a number of churches in the Beaverton and Portland area, and have narrowed down our search considerably. I feel like we are far from making a decision about where we would like to attend, but the process has been an interesting one for our family.

Recently, Matt has had opportunities to help lead worship at 3 different churches in the greater Portland/Vancouver area, and from my estimation, it has been an incredible time of growth for him as a musician and worship leader. The combination of playing with many different musicians, the encouragement of being sought after as a worship leader, and the opportunity to see how other believers worship has been great for all of us, but especially for Matt. It has been fun for me to watch him fully use his gifts and rise to the many opportunities he has been presented with.

However, I would be lying if I said it isn't also a little bit intimidating. As we've traveled around to these new churches, I feel a tiny bit like I am being ripped out of my element. I am going to places where no one knows me beyond what little they may know of Matt. Almost every week I field the same comments from strangers: 1) Your husband is a very good drummer, and 2) Your daughter is cute/adorable/beautiful/precious. I have sunk to a position of total anonymity, and after several years of being known-- WELL-- by my community, it is weird.

Rather than be disheartened by this, I have been encouraged to take a good look at my own heart and where I see myself serving in whatever place we end up. You see, as a young mom it is really, REALLY easy to get caught up in motherhood. As firmly as I believe that God designed me for the purpose of being Matt's wife and Kisa's mother, I also believe that he means me for much, MUCH more than that. Simply put, my family is not my whole life... they are just a piece of it. One of the deepest desires of my heart is to encourage each of them to pursue their own goals and passions, and one of the ways I see myself doing this (especially in my daughter's case) is to lead by example.

Recently I have become a bit restless, and am aching for the chance to employ my gifts and to do ministry in a way that is transformational for myself and those around me. It is something I have thought of quite often lately, and a vision is taking shape for the future. It is something I am excited about (although still working through), and thus something I want to share.

(Maybe now would be a good point to add in a disclaimer. Although I have spent a good deal of time studying the topic I am about to write about, I am by no means a theologian and I have not had the benefit of seminary training. So although what I am about to say is the result of years of study, mentoring, prayer, and seeking God's direction in my life, I am not trying to present my views as infallible or completely formed. I do believe them to be Biblical, but as I know what I say may be a little unorthodox I leave it to you to decide and to challenge.)

I believe that I have the spiritual gift of craftsmanship. Depending on where you go to church or what spiritual gifts inventory you've taken, you may or may not have heard of this gift, or even believe that it is a spiritual gift. You may define it anywhere on the broad spectrum of skills relating to either the creative arts or to architecture/construction. So let me give a somewhat brief/casual explanation of what I believe this gift encompasses, and why.

Though seldom mentioned in the New Testament, there are a few instances in the Old Testament where the Holy Spirit blesses an individual with the gift of "craftsmanship" (this is the term I will use for the purpose of the blog, though the actual word varies according to the text you are reading). These situations occur when God commands the people to build worship structures (ex the Temple) and although the work requires many artisans, there is one laborer that is granted this particular gift. It certainly includes a talent or passion for the arts, but as we know these things can and do exist outside of the church. Rather, the men in the OT who possess the gift of craftsmanship are more like overseers (supervisors or mobilizers) of the other artisans.

It has been difficult for me to pinpoint what exactly this means for me, but let me start by explaining how I have discovered what I am not. Through many spiritual gifts tests, I have often come up with the conclusion that I have a passion and ability for leadership as well as for administration. This is not entirely true, but it is a close representation of what I believe my gift to actually be. Craftsmanship, as Biblically defined and as I have seen in my own life, is a combination of these three elements: a passion for/talent for the arts, the ability to lead, and the means to organize others in this pursuit.

I see it as a gift under the umbrella of many other worship gifts. In that way I have often thought that it's pretty cool that Matt and I have such similar makeup, even though our mode of expression seems so different. When Matt leads musical worship, he is doing with music what I seek to lead others in doing with the arts.

So what exactly is it that I think I'm leading people to? Well, I believe that the act of creation can be an act of worship. I believe we were created in God's image and that includes the ability to create. I believe we were gifted with beauty and a love and appreciation for that beauty as both a call to worship and a means of worship. There is something in the arts, specifically in music but also in fine art, that captures the heart in a way that nothing else can. For my part, I believe that to be a mode of communication that opens our heart in different ways to our Creator; ways that words cannot.

That all sounds pretty vague and hippie-dippy, I know, but my point is that I think art is valuable to the Church as a way to worship and evangelize. The more we can harness our creative gifts, the more we can worship in a way that is transformational and the better we can represent Christ to the world around us. It is no wonder that Paul spoke of the physical world as being an undeniable representation of God. How can you experience something as beautiful as a sunset, a canyon, a snow-capped mountain and claim there is no God? And don't you think a God who has created so much beauty around us loves it when we worship him with our own expressions of beauty?

Because of a great many things in history (idolatry, iconoclasm... to name a couple), the fine arts have taken a backburner or been pushed out of the Western Church. There is a lot there that I can't tackle in this post, but my main goal is to mobilize other artists to worship, in a healthy way, by using their creative gifts. I believe this would change the way the entire church worships, even those who don't think of themselves as artistic or don't care much for art.

Specifically, I hope to become an administrator or leader (of sorts) for those who have creative abilities. I'd love to help them channel their individual gifts into modes of corporate worship... a great example would be leading the Stations of the Cross, which I have done at Ethnos in prior years. I have some other ideas of experiential worship events... things that allow artists to do what they do, and the church to experience God in a fresh way because of it. So if I were to sum it up in a few words, I suppose that is how I would describe my passion and where I think God is calling me forward in ministry.

Now I am trusting God that he will lead us to a place where Matt and I are both able to be mentored, equipped and encouraged in our individual and intersecting passions, and, most of all, where we are able to engage in service the way we hope to! I think there are some strong possibilities out there for us, and it's exciting to feel like we could be on the brink of a new chapter in our lives and ministry.

You can bet I'll be writing more about this as we continue our journey. I've really only shared about a tenth of what I've got bouncing around in my head, but it already feels like I'm trying to say too much too fast and not communicating clearly. I wish I had my husband's gift for blogging! Ah well. ;)

And with that I'm signing off... it's been a long day, parenting-wise, and I'm exhausted.

Something your friends may not tell you

Fifteen months after the birth of my daughter, my rib cage is just now beginning to return to it's previous size/shape. I am told this depends on the woman and that some bounce back more quickly than others, while some are permanently altered.

Personally I feel lucky that I am not too much the worse for wear. I partly attribute this to still being a young'un myself, so thanks, God, for that... ;)

Housekeeping

Occasionally (fine... daily) I time myself while performing random household tasks. I find it helps me to keep my perspective on the days I feel tempted to make statements like "I spend my whole life cleaning" or "I never have any free time."

My mom once gave me a great housekeeping tip, which was that if I could employ a general system of order and commit to cleaning once a week, then caring for my house would not be an overwhelming task. In other words, if your house is basically clean and organized, then a little bit of tidying every day keeps things from getting out of control.

I spend 5 minutes/day in each room of my house, and 15 minutes in the kitchen. It comes out to about 30 minutes a day. Doable. And then I stop.

So far, this system has been great, and I've become even more of a believer since Kisa has begun walking and flinging random items around the house. She has the ability to make my living room look like a war zone, but because of my timer, I now know that no matter how terrible the chaos seems, it only takes me an average of 2.5 minutes to correct.

I also know that it takes me only 4 minutes to unload and re-load my dishwasher, which is less than the amount of time it takes to make a cup of tea. Not bad.

So if I happen to walk into my house at 12:45pm (like I did today) and find every room cluttered with dirty dishes, toys and laundry in a questionable state of cleanliness, at the very least I can know that within 30 minutes I can be back to my tidy happy place. And I will still have at least an hour and a half of naptime left to relax. Or to blog.

An Addendum

One of the reasons I am so jazzed about Kisa's new sleep schedule is because I finally have the opportunity to get up before my daughter if I want. This was never a possibility before because she either: a) woke up before 6:30 or b) woke up when she heard me or Matt get up since she slept in our bed.

The timing of this really couldn't be better, cause it lets me have some lead time in the morning to have a quiet time and exercise. (I was just telling my dad and Emiko on Sunday that I'm having to adapt my workout routine to account for the rain. I have been jogging/walking most mornings, which works really well for both me and Kisa, but I know that won't be a possibility as we move toward winter.) Now I can get up early and work out indoors, which is ridiculously awesome.

I have spent the last week or so catching up on a year plus of missed sleep, but I was feeling well rested this morning and got up early to hit the gym (aka my living room with my set of dusty weights). Unfortunately for me, I seem to have some kind of mild stomach bug, and I couldn't bring myself to finish the routine.

Luckily today is a GORGEOUS day, so Kisa and I walked to the library instead and played on the playground. It was fun, and one of the first times I've been to a playground with her, since she is just now developing the necessary skills to actually play on one. I have discovered that she really, REALLY likes slides. Or maybe she just likes squealing when sliding down them.

Sweet Dreams

Over the last week or so, we have noticed some significant improvements in Kisa's sleeping, which is something that has been a struggle from the beginning. After many attempts at sleep training, we eventually resigned ourselves to the idea that she would sleep on her own when she was ready, and tried our best to cope with it.

I haven't changed a thing about her routine and can't point my finger to a variable that might have influenced her decision to sleep on her own. But I am ready for it. She has been doing some sort of 8pm-8am routine at nights in her crib, and for the last month or more has been putting herself down without a peep for naps and at bedtime.

It is crazy now to think about how much work it used to be to put her down for the night, and how much stress it gave us. It has probably been the biggest ongoing parenting struggle thus far. To see some measurable improvement is amazing. FINALLY!

I kind of love the way this worked out and that there is no explanation or change in behavior to lead to such a sudden improvement. It just reinforces, to me, my belief that some things will happen in their own time. No amount of stress or worry or tears or bedtime stories or parenting advice made my kid sleep better. She just figured it out, with a little bit of help, when she was ready.

It can be unbelievably frustrating at times... but that is just parenthood.

Family Planning

When you first get married (or maybe even when you're engaged), there is one question you will get over and over and over again: "When are you going to have kids?"

Once you become pregnant and actually give birth to that long-awaited child, a new question will rear its ugly head: "So when's the next one coming?"

Never mind that asking this question is, really, a pretty stupid thing to do. You never know what a couples' journey toward (or feelings about) parenthood may be. At the worst you are opening a deep wound, and at best you're being nosy and putting your friend/relative in an awkward spot.

Still, we all ask the question. I don't know why we do it, but we do it. Maybe because those of us who are parents want others to share in our joy (and our misery). Maybe because we want nieces or nephews or grandkids. Maybe just cause it's the thing you ask a couple. I don't know.

Lately this question has started to wear on me because of the answer that I have to give: I don't know. I don't know when the next one is coming. I don't know if there will ever BE a next one. And when I think of the reasons and compare pros and cons, I end up even more confused and anxious than when I began. There are arguments on both sides that make logical sense, and there are very real, very strong emotions pulling me in opposing directions. It is hard to make sense of it all, and to be patient and faithful.

I am learning of the ripple effect that an unplanned pregnancy can have in your life. Long after we have adjusted to the idea of parenthood, and to parenthood itself, we are still sifting through the rubble of our "plan".

The handful of times that I had imagined myself as a mother, I imagined it after school and work, maybe in my late twenties or early thirties. I had envisioned quitting my job to stay home with one, or two, or maybe even three reasonably spaced children. I pictured myself running errands while they were in school. Maybe doing some gardening in our backyard or taking the dog to obedience class.

I know it sounds really selfish to be mourning the loss of that dream, especially since I have a beautiful daughter and I am one of the few women who is blessed to be able to be a stay at home mom. In this day and age, that is truly rare. But I can't help continuing to feel a slight loss at how life has played out.

Let me explain: I am rapidly approaching a time which I feel like justifies a reasonable age gap between children. Like, if everything had gone according to plan, and we had a three or four bedroom house and a backyard, we might be able to think about filling up another one of those bedrooms. Maybe. But instead I feel overwhelmed by the concept; physically, emotionally, financially unprepared for another child, and a little disheartened by the reality, which is that we are nowhere near that place that I wanted to be, hoped I'd be, when my first child was walking. I may be looking for a job soon, and those extra bedrooms and that backyard seem like an impossibly distant dream.

So, what's the big deal with that, really? Why can't your kids be spaced five or seven years apart. Even ten? I know in my brain that this is totally reasonable, but I guess- I don't know- I had just thought that I could do it at once, that my kids would go to high school together and play games and be friends and that I would capitalize on their overlap. Five years seems like such a long time to wait to basically repeat everything I have just gone through.

I know to a lot of you that seems silly, and controlling, and maybe it is. I know that I can't express in words how I have been feeling, but the lie that you have been told by society- they call it "Family Planning"- is a difficult bubble to have break. I envisioned parenthood being a much clearer road than this, and I had hoped we'd feel prepared to embark upon it. What does it say that 14+ months in I still feel totally unsure about doing it over again?

The hardest part of all is the unknown, the terrible dangling possibility, the door that you can't shut. It's like standing forever at a fork in the road, just staring at the signs. I can't say with certainty that I'll have another child. But I also can't say that I won't. I can't even know when we will be ready to make that decision.

I don't know why the unknown, the openness, is so disconcerting for me. It could be that with so many other unknowns in life, this is just something that I want to control in my own way. I have struggled and struggled with surrendering this to God and have repeatedly failed. Somewhere deep in my heart I've tried to look ahead to the futures that are open to us and they seem right. Part of me says that there is no right or wrong time for children. That squeezing our kids into a bunk bed and living ten more years in this condo can work, and can even be beautiful. Another part of me says that I need to surrender some of my own dreams and plans to be responsible... to be patient and wait until the time is right. I can do this again in five years, or seven years, or ten years, when God tells us that it is the right time.

Lastly, there is the part of me that wants to close the door on this possibility and pour all my love and ministry into the amazing family God has already blessed me with. This idea is the one that confuses me the most, because that suggestion sends a shock of overwhelming emotions cascading through my body: disappointment and relief; grief, but also a beautiful and attractive sort of finality.

The more I think on this, the more I wonder if grief may always be a part of this process. There is the initial grief and loss of things not going your way, and there will always be the grief of choosing not to have more kids (no matter when you stop). That is a weird kind of grief- like mourning someone you have never met- but also, in a way, it is kind of like mourning a loss of self, a loss of the ability to carry life or to mother again. I envy women who have the opportunity to "try" to get pregnant. I can't imagine the joy of getting the news that you are going to have that baby you have dreamed and hoped and prayed for. It must feel so different to walk around with that pregnant belly full of someone you are just dying to meet.

Just so you know, I'm aware of how crazy (and maybe even offensive) that sounds. I know there are women everywhere who are dying to be in my shoes, who have tried for years or have lost children in the womb. I can't imagine that either, but for my part, I feel like with Kisa I was robbed of some of the joy and expectation of pregnancy. I want to experience that. But that in and of itself is not enough of a reason to have more children, and when I think that Kisa's may have been my only experience of pregnancy, I feel a sense of loss.

Without a doubt, parenthood has shaken me and reminded me, again and again, that God is in charge of me and not the other way around. However, none of it is for the reasons I had imagined. To think that something as personal as motherhood is actually completely out of your control (despite what we may call our contraceptives) is the biggest knock to my pride I could have imagined.

I struggle with how to end this long wave of emotion because I cannot tie up any of my loose ends. I can't pretend like sharing this has clarified anything, rather I feel like it has rubbed me raw. Instead of hiding this I have chosen to share what I think many will find silly, or crazy, or over dramatic. In writing I can recognize my own failure to communicate the gravity or depth of my feelings, but I cannot reconcile the two.

So with that, I'll end.

Fleas

What I am about to say is likely going to incur the wrath of my husband and without a doubt that of my extended family, but in the interest of openness and honesty here it comes:

I have discovered that I do not particularly enjoy being a pet owner.

I think it has something to do with both the disposition of our cat and the plethora of medical problems he has had in the last year or so. And maybe also that since I have become a mom caring for him has become primarily my responsibility instead of Matt's.

I think I used to kind of enjoy Zeus when I was pregnant and had lots of time but didn't have to take care of him at all. I have a handful of memories of us cuddling and even once showing some of my coworkers pictures I had taken of him on my phone. But that is the only time in the history of my relationship with Zeus that I remember our bond progressing even slightly beyond mere tolerance.

Even though I feed him, water him, change his litter box, pet him, play with him, let him sleep in our bed, clean up his puke, give him medicine, take him to the vet and even cuddle him on occasion (when HE allows it) my reward from him is usually a hiss or a bite. Lately, he's even batted at/bitten Kisa once or twice, which makes my blood boil.

Soooo. His most recent thing is fleas, which I am terrified of. After we found one flea on him I literally have spent the past 2 1/2 days scrubbing our house and washing everything in sight. I haven't seen a flea anywhere else besides on him or dead on the floor, but I am panicked by the idea of little bugs crawling around our house biting us and laying sick eggs. Even I can see that I am slightly over-reacting (I'm pretty sure the pros aren't as thorough as I have been) but I don't care. I don't want a flea-infested house or cat.

Anyway, in the midst of all of this, I have felt about 10% bad for Zeus and about 90% annoyed. I feel bad saying that, because you are supposed to love your pets, right? But I was not raised to have familial-type love for animals and having an actual child makes everything relating to the cat seem so much less important.

Now... before you judge. Please re-read the list of things I do for him. I do everything for this cat. I am the one who notices when he is sick and does something about it. Were it not for me, I doubt we would have noticed the flea situation for at least another week until they started to attack us or multiply out of control. So... it's not like I ignore him or neglect him. I'm not mean to him. But I have begun to think of him as the "weird uncle" of our family, the one you just have to tolerate because he's in your family whether you like it or not.

Zeus is one of the not-so-small things I have compromised on out of love for my husband, and in the last several years I have not complained much about him, so maybe it's just reached a pressure point or something. Regardless. It feels good to have gotten it off my chest.

Lastly, to my dear family members: let me just clarify that I am not saying I hate all animals. I enjoy your pets from a distance, similar to the way that one enjoys being an aunt or uncle but doesn't want to be a parent themselves.

It has been way too long since I have written a blog. Life has been busy- but that is nothing new.

So what is new? Kisa is now walking, and I have to say, I am loving it. Every parent in every grocery store over the past 13 months told me that when my daughter started walking my "life would be over". Well... whatever you say, crazies. It is fun to watch her take so much joy in her ability to move around. She gets so excited sometimes that she will run up and down the hallway just for the sheer joy of it. That is always fun to watch, and in terms of getting into stuff, IMO, it really makes no difference if your kid is crawling or walking. Either way they require constant supervision!

I am finally entering the phase of parenthood that I most anticipated: toddlerhood. I know I am flying blind here, so all you seasoned parents might be shaking your heads at my naivete. I'm sure discipline, potty training, and the terrible twos will give us a run for our money, but all in all, I am enjoying watching my daughter grow. There are so many new things we can do now that she is walking. We have been "exploring" the area around our condo every afternoon. She is a very tactile little girl, and she is interested in all the different textures found outside (grass, flowers, rocks, dirt, pavement). I have never seen anyone so fascinated by anything in my life (except maybe Elmo). I am looking forward to taking her to the park, the pumpkin patch, and the Children's Museum. I am sure we'll be making a trip back to the zoo soon, now that she and Matt can move on their own and she has a little more patience for finding animals.

Another great thing about this age is that we don't have to tote so much stuff with us when we leave the house. Kisa can eat and drink real people food... soooooo nice. She can even use a straw to drink out of a regular cup if there's no sippy cup on hand. It really makes life a whole lot easier at mealtime, since she can self-feed and chew things up... no more preparing special meals and less of cutting things into tiny pieces. I'm loving that!

In other news, I'm back on the WW wagon and running 5-6 days a week. It's been good for me both physically and mentally to have some "alone time" every morning. We have a jogging stroller so Kisa joins me on my runs, but she is content to sit in her stroller pointing out birds, cars and squirrels the whole time, which leaves me free to think. Initially I had planned to not exercise on the weekends, but I've been finding that I miss the routine and the exercise on Saturdays and Sundays, so I usually sneak a shorter walk or jog in on those days as well.

Over the past month I've lost 9 or 10 pounds. I'm not to my goal weight, but I have been sticking to my diet and exercise and that's what's important to me. Matt is fond of telling me that weight is a poor measurement of fitness anyway... when your body is replacing fat with muscle you can be in better shape at a higher weight.

Finally, in 9 days Matt and I will be hopping on a plane to Southern California for a 5-day trip (it will be the first time we've been away more than two days together since our honeymoon, and our first trip without Kisa). Matt is going to be in his friend's wedding, and we'll be hitting up Disneyland for the first time in Matt's life, so it should be a really fun weekend.

It is actually really cool how planning this whole trip has played out. We live on one income and we don't have a whole lot of money, so we were stressed about the cost. With airfare for two people and four nights in a hotel, plus meals and tickets to Disneyland, it would have been a crazy expensive trip. We finally decided to just put on a happy face and try to enjoy it (since most of the expenses were unavoidable anyway).

I feel like God has been blessing us a bit though, because this is something that we REALLY need and I have seen the way he has orchestrated events so that we're now able to take the trip without blowing a huge chunk of our savings.

First, we found out we had some frequent flyer miles that we were able to use to buy a ticket for Matt. Then, his friend offered to get us into Disneyland for free on our second day down there. Finally, another friend offered to let us crash at their place for the whole trip! So now I'm feeling like we can enjoy our trip without feeling guilty about spending money we shouldn't be. Isn't God good?

I'm sure I have more I could blog about, but as usual I'll cut this short so I can get back to my mommy duties. :)

I want to be a stand up comedian.

Happy Thoughts

Wow! It's been a long time since I last blogged. I have been in a bit of a rut lately. The last month has been one of those head-down-and-keep-on-chuggin' kinda months, and I am glad to kiss August 2010 goodbye and start a new chapter in life.

I am feeling especially cheerful this evening since Matt got some good news today. Starting this afternoon, he was able to put weight on his foot and over the next two weeks he will be transitioning into walking without his crutches. That means that sometime in the next 2-3 weeks he will be able to return to work, at least part time. Once he gets off the crutches, he will be able to do other things for himself as well (like get meals and take a shower). I am starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

It's hard not to get my hopes up as to what Matt will be able to help with, chore-wise, and when he'll be able to help with it. All I know is that it will be amazing the first night he is able to put Kisa down, or the first weekend morning I am able to sleep in. I have been really blessed to have lots of help from friends and family over the past six weeks, but nothing can replace your spouse/your kid's dad. It will be cool to see Matt and Kisa walking around the house together pretty soon. It is not too far off for either of them.

Which brings me to another point: my kid is walking. She hasn't quite mastered it yet, but I've watched her take several steps together, crossing the living room on her own. Today we walked from our house to the mailbox (with me holding her hands) and then halfway back before she lost interest. She has been pretty brave. A couple of times I have watched her eat it pretty badly, but she picks herself up (sometimes even giggling) and just keeps on truckin'. I think the real tipping point for her has been, and will continue to be, efficiency. She picks up a new mode of transportation only when she deems it more efficient than her previous preferred method. She followed this pattern moving from rolling to zombie crawl and from zombie crawl to an actual crawl. In this, she is truly her father's daughter.

I've enjoyed watching her learn to stand up on her own, which is still a pretty weird thing to see. To think that this baby I have spent the past year feeding, rocking, changing etc. is no longer a baby and can actually do some things on her own is strange. She tried to feed herself with a spoon the other day (it was a disaster, but she had fun).

I am really looking forward to this next stage of parenting. Although I do miss the small baby stage, I am excited to watch my daughter learn, grow, and begin to express her sense of humor and her personality in ways we can understand. I really can't wait for her to start talking.

On a final note, this past weekend was our last weekend meeting at Ethnos before the upcoming Walkabout, which I am also really pumped about. I think it will be great to relax for a bit and explore what these different communities have to offer. Our extended family might potentially be joining us in visiting a few of these churches, which I am also looking forward to.

Anyway, here's to a new chapter- to getting out of this rut, and getting on with life!

3 Things I Love About My Daughter:

1. The way she snuggles up to me in the middle of the night (like a tiny spoon)

2. The way she always asks to read her favorite book (Baby Loves), EVERY bed time and nap time, no matter how tired she is or how many times we've read it that day

3. How she helps me fold the laundry by handing me items piece by piece. And then when we're finished, how she knocks over the pile of folded laundry so we can do it over again.

Kisa has a nasty cold and has been ridiculously grumpy lately (yesterday evening and this morning). I don't know if tylenol would help, but it's a moot point since I'm out of it anyway.

Great gifts come in small packages

Well, I had a great birthday this year. It was probably one of my favorite birthdays so far. The only thing that could have improved my day would have been if Matt was not bedridden/in a wheelchair, but overall I couldn't have asked for more. I love that Kisa and I share a birth weekend. I'm sure in a few years she will loathe that fact, but for now she is blissfully unaware that the world does not orbit her, which is how we like it.


I received many beautiful gifts this year, but perhaps my favorite was this locket (Matt bought it for me off of a fellow Etsy seller). It is one of my little quirks that I have always had a fascination with lockets, since I rarely wear any jewelry besides my wedding ring. But I have wanted one since I was a little girl, and I finally have one! How perfect that I have exactly two family members.

It was a great weekend, but I would be lying if I said I felt anything other than completely exhausted this morning. We had to get up and going early today to take Matt to his physical therapy appointment. (Sidenote: Kisa stayed in daycare at the hospital during the appointment- her first time EVER being babysat by anyone other than close friends or family- and she did GREAT. I think she must have wooed the employees, because they were actually sad to see her leave. What a pleasant surprise; I was expecting a total meltdown. I'll chalk it up to her love of the spotlight and fascination with other kids.)

We have another appointment with the knee doctor this week, and I am starting to stress a little about that one, because we aren't sure what will happen. Matt will get another x-ray, and hopefully (!) his bone hasn't shifted. If it has, we may be looking at surgery after all. I think this is really unlikely, but it doesn't stop me from worrying about it a little. I will be glad to get Wednesday over with either way, because I really hate the pressure of the unknown.

Well, it is naptime for Kisa which means... time to pick up the house! So much laundry and so little time!

Thanks to everyone who celebrated with us yesterday, your presence (and your presents!) were much appreciated. ;)

Ciara Hartzell and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

My feelings exactly, Alexander.

Last night at 10:45 Kisa woke up and decided it was play time. It took me an hour and 45 minutes to get her back to sleep, and then another half hour to fall asleep myself. After which, I was promptly awakened by the cat tipping over the glass of water on Matt's nightstand. Ugh...

What followed was actually a glorious night of sleep, but this morning I woke up in a puddle of infant pee. Yes, Kisa wet the bed- and by THE bed, I mean MY bed*. So I had to wake her up and change her diaper and clothes. She refused to go back to sleep, so I came out to the kitchen to get her started on breakfast. Lo and behold, on my way to the kitchen I stepped in a MONSTER pile of cat puke (thanks Zeus)! By the time I had stripped the sheets and cleaned up the cat mess, Kisa had just finished a nice mess of her own in her diaper. And thus, my day begins.

I had already pre-determined that today was going to be amazing, but I guess I need to communicate that plan to the rest of the world, because we don't seem to be on the same page.

In other- happy!- news, my friends and my dad are coming over tonight to help me do some baby proofing and pick up my house, and I am really grateful for their help. It will be a huge weight off my mind to know my bookcases aren't going to tip over on my child (sidenote: I am a highly imaginative, high-anxiety person, and as a parent this has been expressed by dreaming up ridiculous ways that my child might get severely maimed or killed. Terrible, I know, but a part of motherhood nonetheless. My nightmares for this week included choking on a chunk of hot dog at her birthday party, throwing herself out of her crib and sustaining a massive head injury, and falling off the zoo train. Keep in mind that it is only Tuesday morning. At least I can chuckle at my own insanity, right?). Also, I would be lying if I told you I have completed anything but the most basic housework in the last week. I scrubbed one tub and mopped our small kitchen floor. That's it. Other than that I have contented myself with the fact that there are usually not too many toys on the floor by the time everyone is in bed, and that, for the most part, we are all wearing clean(ish) clothes and our last shower or bath has taken place some time in the last 24-48 hours.

Anyway: I am off to tackle this glorious day. Probably starting with a cold shower since I used the hot water to wash our pee-sheets.




*Fine, I lied. It was Matt who wet the bed. I just didn't want to embarrass him.

Summer Birthday Fest 2010

I am getting pretty excited for this weekend.

For those of you who DON'T know, this weekend will be my daughter's first birthday (and my 23rd) and we are having a huge BBQ in the park to celebrate us (and my birthday twins, Steph and Jason).

It is fun, as a parent, any time you are about to introduce your child to something that you KNOW they will love. This weekend Kisa will get to taste her first cake, open her first ever presents from Mommy and Daddy, and also get to go to the zoo for the first time.

Let it be known that Matt and I are not ones to spoil our child. We don't buy her presents. I think I have bought her a handful of things since she has been born, most of which were clothes and socks. So we only bought her two presents for her birthday, one from me and one from Matt. However, they are carefully selected gifts that I'm pretty sure she'll love, and I am excited to see her open them and play with them.

Also, chief among my excitements is the first zoo trip. I have been waiting for this day since she was born, and I hope she is finally old enough to enjoy it. She pretty much loves animals so I feel like this is probably a home run.


In other news, Matt and I recently found almost $100 in unclaimed gift cards from our wedding (oops), and I used one of them to buy myself this lovely birthday present:

I have been wanting a teapot since I got married. Turns out I could have had one all along, but I'm thinking God timed this so it would be a nice little pick-me-up after a week of nonstop parenting/caretaker-ing.

I am feeling really blessed right now that my husband isn't going into surgery tonight. I was so anxious about that likelihood that I haven't been able to think straight for the last several days, and literally after our appointment yesterday I felt like a physical burden had been lifted off my body. Then every time I get too excited I have to remember that Matt is still facing a long and difficult road to recovery.

Matt's mom has terrible arthritis in her knees, which started in her early forties. I always knew there was a potential for Matt to get arthritis too, since it has a strong genetic link. Our doctor basically assured us of that yesterday, making a comment to the effect of "a total knee replacement will be in the cards for you, but don't worry about that because that's years from now".

I don't know, I can't hear something like that and not worry. Especially since it just doesn't seem like as far away as the doctor seems to think. Even when Matt is 50 I will still only be 46, which is just way too young to have limited mobility or be looking at a knee replacement. That's less than 25 years from now.

I suppose that is just my nature, to worry about things 20+ years down the road, but this injury has definitely been a wake up call in terms of thinking long-term about taking care of ourselves. I know my family has a high risk for diabetes, so I try to eat well and control my weight (except for the occasional giant marshmallow). I think maybe we will have to be diligent about caring for Matt's joints (especially knees) in the same way going forward.

Anyway, I put Kisa in her crib hoping she would go back to sleep and no such luck. I can hear her playing in there. Time to actually be a parent...

I feel like this latest season of life has been a lot of trading one trial for another. I suppose that is a really pessimistic way of looking at things, but as I logged in to type this blog I was looking at the one below it. Less than a week ago I was so relieved to have finally cleared the hurdle of our latest sleep troubles, and here we are again smack dab in the middle of another Predicament. This is the detailed account of Matt's knee injury and what's going on with him. Not going to recount it because most of you know and if not, and you are reading this, then you are fully capable of clicking the link and seeing for yourself.

Anyway, I am someone who does well (generally speaking) under pressure. I can buckle down and get my nose to the grindstone and get things done. I'm not going to make any promises about being wonderful to be around while I'm workhorsing it up, but I do have a high capacity.

The thing about pressure is, it is usually short-lived, which is what makes that high capacity possible. I feel like most people could do pretty much anything for a finite time period. With this recent injury we are still unsure how long Matt will be bed/couch -ridden, but the general diagnosis has been 6+ weeks. That number just sounds so exhausting and the uncertainty of the + in there (we heard today it could be more like 8-10) is difficult to stomach. What IF it is more like 10 weeks? What if it's longer? We still don't know the full extent of what's wrong with him, so there is that question looming.

I have been vacillating the last couple of days between feeling super overwhelmed and then feeling borderline ridiculous for being such a mess. Because if you look at the facts, it just seems really weak for me to lose it over a couple of months of an alternate schedule. After all, there are single moms who do this PLUS work a job all the time, and I'm sure they don't have people offering to watch their kids or bring them meals constantly. Our family and friends have already been extremely helpful, and I'm sure they will continue to be so.

I think a lot of it is just emotional fallout from an intense weekend (Matt's injury, ethnos announcment, etc) and me trying to cope with that in the midst of everyday life sans husband/assistant. I am really feeling pretty anxious about the possibility (more like probability) that he will be having surgery, for a whole host of reasons I don't want to go into. Suffice it to say that although I want him to heal as quickly as possible, I would really love it if general anesthesia wasn't necessary.

On a happier note, Kisa has been a trooper yesterday and today. I wasn't able to be with her for most of the days both these days, and she was great for the grandparents and took naps well, as well as settling down much easier at bedtime the last two nights after readjusting to her home sleeptime schedule. Our new routine involves elmo before naps and bedtime, and that seems to do the trick for her. She watches until she is tired (usually 15-30 min), and then she can indicate when she wants to go to sleep. I am sure this won't work forever, but I am pretty happy to have discovered it for the time being- it gives me a chance to pick up the house and for her to wind down a little so that there is more of a transition from playtime to sleep time. I'm guessing when she gets a little older we can replace this with storytime (hasn't worked thus far), which is something I'm looking forward to as a parent.

It just struck me as I read over this post that Kisa is due for a check-up in the next couple of weeks. Sigh... adding that to my task list.

Sleep Troubles: an update

Well, I am crossing my fingers as I type this (not literally, cause that would make it too hard to type) but it appears Kisa has gotten the hang of our new sleeptime routine and forgotten the trauma of a couple weeks ago. (See picture.)

I have been working on transitioning Kisa away from her morning nap. I was sad to see it go, because that was my morning exercise time, but the rest of her naps and her bedtime were suffering, so something had to be done.

After a couple of weeks of working on this new schedule, I am happy to announce that Kisa has returned to the days of not hating her crib with a passion. The past few days she has played happily in her crib until tiring herself out enough to fall asleep. She does this for afternoon nap time and even last night at bed time. She is still having a rough time with night waking, so we'll have to continue to work on that.

A bonus of eliminating the morning nap is that she is now sleeping in later most days, which I don't mind ONE BIT.

I am feeling thankful to have weathered this stretch of parenting (which I did NOT enjoy), and a little more confident and hopeful that I am moving in a direction that works for my child. I'm not exactly sure where to go from here to help her continue to improve her sleeping habits, but I have some ideas and things I'd like to try.

I have more updates to post (things that aren't baby-related), but those will have to wait for another day!

You know what I really hate? Unsolicited advice. And boy, you sure do get a lot of it as a parent. It seems like from the second that baby bump starts to show there are people crawling out of the woodwork telling you how to do this or that. I can only hope that this gets better with the second child (if we have one). I would think that at some point people must assume you at least somewhat know what you are doing.

Recently, Matt and I were at Target when we heard a kid a few aisles away having a total meltdown. The mother, clearly at the end of her rope, was hissing (as discreetly as possible but through gritted teeth) something along the lines of, "Stop it. RIGHT NOW. Or you will get a spanking."

Then, from across the aisle, another woman, without children, has the GALL to shout (loud enough for everyone to hear and with a full measure of sarcasm): "Yeah! Intimidation. That'll make the kid stop crying."

I cocked my head and turned to look at her, slack-jawed, then looked back at Matt and said (not quietly, since we're obviously past basic politeness at this point) "Umm, did that really just happen? Who the hell does she think she is?"

Apparently, Target is the place for parenting confrontations too, since a friend of mine told me that on a recent trip there a woman got up in her face with "It's called a child leash-- get one" in reference to her adorable (albeit spirited) 18-month-old daughter.

Now, I understand that when it comes to parenting, we all have our opinions, and they are strong ones. And I do my fair share of actually soliciting advice, because I KNOW there are moms and dads out there who have been where I am and have some good answers to my questions. However, the lady in the grocery store who disapproves a little too loudly of my daughter's pacifier or the acquaintance who raises their eyebrow when you mention co-sleeping... these I could do without.

As I get older and accumulate more life experience, I am finding myself biting my tongue (or kicking myself afterward... if the tongue-biting didn't work) often, catching myself dumping some unsolicited advice on others. Usually, the others are my siblings, or really anyone who roams into my sphere of influence and seems not to have encountered the same obstacles in life that I have. I'm trying to remember, every time I catch myself doing this, how much it makes my blood boil when someone does it to me.

(If you're wondering why I'm blogging at midnight, it's because I can't sleep... which I blame on an overabundance of sleep the past few days, a problem I haven't had in God knows how long, but am unceasingly grateful for right now.)

EDIT: Something I meant to add when I published this post, but forgot, is this: I am also working on explaining myself and my actions to others. And by that I mean not doing it. When someone questions my parenting choices, I feel the need to defend or explain. Why? I am confident in the choices I have made for my family, and no one really needs to understand them but me, Matt, and (hopefully, but not necessarily) Kisa. So when someone criticizes something that I do differently, I am trying to fight back the urge to explain myself, because 1) it perpetuates the cycle of forcing opinions on others and 2) it communicates that I am unsure or that I appreciate the intrusion, which I do not!

Almost every day of my life I feel like I add something to my list of "what not to do to others". As time goes by I am learning how to be a better wife, mom, sister, daughter, friend, and (someday) aunt, grandma, and mother-in-law. Hopes I remember this stuff when I get there!

We have had (are having) an incredible weekend.

Yesterday, after sleeping in until 9:15 (thanks Kisa!) we walked Kisa up to the Beaverton Library fountain for one of her first kid-centric excursions. She hated the fountain, but Matt and I had a pretty good time cooling ourselves off and watching the other kids going nuts. We had forgotten about the farmer's market, so we walked through all the booths, picked up some lunch and some fresh raspberries and plenty of free samples. It was a nice surprise and a relaxing summer morning, and when we got home Kisa passed out. The only downside was that in my flurry to pack up all the baby gear, dress and sunscreen the kid, etc. I forgot to wear sunscreen myself. Ouch :(

Yesterday afternoon we took Kisa to my parents' for an overnight and Matt and I picked up some Thai food and finished off the day with take-out, Lost, and some mixed drinks. We stayed up late and turned the volume way, way up on our TV. I'm sure it doesn't sound exciting to most of you non-parents, but it was awesome.

This morning we slept in again until 9:15. It is crazy how after a couple of nights of really great sleep, my morning coffee seemed not only optional, but almost unnecessary. I can't stress how dependent I am on caffeine on a day-to-day basis. A couple of days these past weeks I have had THREE cups of coffee in one day... so it was weird to actually feel well-rested and cheerful this morning. I cleaned my whole house (showers, toilets, the whole nine) and spent 30 minutes doing my hair. (side note: last time I got my hair cut, I told my hairdresser that I am a mom to an infant and that I needed something that would be simple. She gave me an amazing haircut that requires 30 MINUTES worth of primping to look good. Who has 30 minutes to spend on their hair every day? [Don't answer that- I will hate you])

I am alittlebitkindof missing Kisa right now, but more excited to zip in and out of the grocery store with Matt, which is about ten BILLION times easier than carrying in a baby and all her paraphernalia (had to look up how to spell that), and trying to intercept all the items she somehow gets a hold of and tosses into the cart, or on the floor, or what have you.

Anyway, I'm out... not gonna waste another second of my free time blogging. :)