Every year I make them:
1. Lose weight
2. Get fit
3. Be a size blahblah again
Every year, I don't lose weight. I will never be a size blahblah again.
But girl, this year I AM FIT.
I can go up three flights of stairs without puffing.
I can carrying my nearly two year old on my back for hours through the mall, the zoo, wherever.
I can bike ride for an hour without breaking a sweat.
My heart, lungs, and muscles are so much stronger than they have ever been. I am centered and balanced in my eating.
I am not skinny. I am not slim. But I am strong. (Thanks to Jody and Stroller Strides!)
So, it's time to make a new list.
1. Laugh way more
2. Not take myself so seriously.
3. Choose joy!
4. Be patient
5. Listen more, talk less
6. Pray more and with less agenda
7. Love my husband enough to be kind, even when I don't want to be.
8. Keep working on myself without beating myself up
9. Forgive, forgive, forgive. Then forgive again.
10. Continue to let God light the dark corners of my life.
And that's it. No more resolutions to change something that can't be changed. Just peace with myself, flaws and all.
What are YOUR resolutions? Leave me a comment friends!
Monday, December 29, 2008
Friday, December 26, 2008
Joy to the world, the vomiting has come!
Yes, you read that right.
Nothing says Christmas like a vomiting toddler.
The evening started off great. We made a beautiful (okay, ghastly) gingerbread house with Grandma. It was all fun and games until Lily started gagging. We thought maybe she had eaten too much candy and it would just pass.
Oh, denial is a mighty river.
Five hours, two cups of pedialyte, and 6 rounds of vomiting later we finally admitted to ourselves this might be a stomach bug. Mark took the first shift, waking me at 3:30. I then took the last shift, until she woke up like a spitfire at 5 AM. She ran around the house making Tazmanian devil noises before again crashing at 7. Not only did she not seem to even remember she was sick, she acted as if just 5 short hours later she wasn't tossing her cookies across mommy's lap.
Anywho, we went to Christmas Eve celebrations anyway, where I am sure our little typhoid Mary infected nearly the whole of Eastern Nebraska with her bug.(Including myself-I am currently writing this while my stomach makes Chewbacca-like sounds. I am simply waiting to erupt like Vesuvius. Mark has been calling dinosaurs in the downstairs bathroom for hours now. Ah the joy of parenting. )
Ah, and did I happen to mention the cold? No? Ummmmm let me just say- WHY THE HELL DOES ANYONE LIVE IN THAT GODFORSAKEN STATE??? Cold isn't even the word.
I digress.
I got to spend a magnificently kid free day with my bestest friend. It was a day full of shopping, tea and coffee, cheesecake, and lots of laffing. LOTS of laffing. I was thrilled to discover April and I still share the same keen fashion sense. As we were exiting the car to go into a store, we both mentioned how friggin cold it was (oh, 11 degrees or so), and then happened to both put on our scarves. With no coats of course. Just the scarves. Because neck warmth is essential, ya'll. We all know essential body heat is carried in the neck, right?
And yes, I saw my father. It was not as bad as I thought, but didn't make me feel any better, if that makes any sense. I'm not going to overthink it.
I also saw something I wanted to share from the moment I witnessed it. A couple on the plane going to Omaha had two small children. One was maybe three, the other, an infant. The three year old had obvious disabilities. He wasn't walking, wasn't talking, and seemed to be sight impaired.
But he smiled from the moment I laid eyes on him until the moment I lost sight of him. And so did his parents. In the time our flight took off and touched down they must have kissed him a hundred times. He must have laughed just as much. They never stopped smiling, ever.
They were joyful, even in the midst of a difficult situation- taking a disabled child on a long flight. Finding a way to change his diaper in a small cramped airplane bathroom. Juggling their infant, bags, and toddler while they waited for their child's wheelchair.
They chose joy.
I felt as if God had placed those people directly in my line of sight so I could see a living example of joyful living. Despite obstacles and chaos and difficulties. It was beautiful and touching.
So that, in a nutshell, was our trip to the tundra. No matter how far I roam, I love to come home.
And now, my friends, I do believe my time has come to call some dinosaurs.
Goodnight!
Nothing says Christmas like a vomiting toddler.
The evening started off great. We made a beautiful (okay, ghastly) gingerbread house with Grandma. It was all fun and games until Lily started gagging. We thought maybe she had eaten too much candy and it would just pass.
Oh, denial is a mighty river.
Five hours, two cups of pedialyte, and 6 rounds of vomiting later we finally admitted to ourselves this might be a stomach bug. Mark took the first shift, waking me at 3:30. I then took the last shift, until she woke up like a spitfire at 5 AM. She ran around the house making Tazmanian devil noises before again crashing at 7. Not only did she not seem to even remember she was sick, she acted as if just 5 short hours later she wasn't tossing her cookies across mommy's lap.
Anywho, we went to Christmas Eve celebrations anyway, where I am sure our little typhoid Mary infected nearly the whole of Eastern Nebraska with her bug.(Including myself-I am currently writing this while my stomach makes Chewbacca-like sounds. I am simply waiting to erupt like Vesuvius. Mark has been calling dinosaurs in the downstairs bathroom for hours now. Ah the joy of parenting. )
Ah, and did I happen to mention the cold? No? Ummmmm let me just say- WHY THE HELL DOES ANYONE LIVE IN THAT GODFORSAKEN STATE??? Cold isn't even the word.
I digress.
I got to spend a magnificently kid free day with my bestest friend. It was a day full of shopping, tea and coffee, cheesecake, and lots of laffing. LOTS of laffing. I was thrilled to discover April and I still share the same keen fashion sense. As we were exiting the car to go into a store, we both mentioned how friggin cold it was (oh, 11 degrees or so), and then happened to both put on our scarves. With no coats of course. Just the scarves. Because neck warmth is essential, ya'll. We all know essential body heat is carried in the neck, right?
And yes, I saw my father. It was not as bad as I thought, but didn't make me feel any better, if that makes any sense. I'm not going to overthink it.
I also saw something I wanted to share from the moment I witnessed it. A couple on the plane going to Omaha had two small children. One was maybe three, the other, an infant. The three year old had obvious disabilities. He wasn't walking, wasn't talking, and seemed to be sight impaired.
But he smiled from the moment I laid eyes on him until the moment I lost sight of him. And so did his parents. In the time our flight took off and touched down they must have kissed him a hundred times. He must have laughed just as much. They never stopped smiling, ever.
They were joyful, even in the midst of a difficult situation- taking a disabled child on a long flight. Finding a way to change his diaper in a small cramped airplane bathroom. Juggling their infant, bags, and toddler while they waited for their child's wheelchair.
They chose joy.
I felt as if God had placed those people directly in my line of sight so I could see a living example of joyful living. Despite obstacles and chaos and difficulties. It was beautiful and touching.
So that, in a nutshell, was our trip to the tundra. No matter how far I roam, I love to come home.
And now, my friends, I do believe my time has come to call some dinosaurs.
Goodnight!
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Off to the frozen tundra...
I will be traveling all next week to Omaha, Nebraska, where the temp is now a downright balmy...6 degrees. Yes, you read it right- 6.
You can stop laughing anytime.
The good news is I will be spending Christmas with my favorite people on earth...my family. I will also be consuming oh, roughly, 300 million calories a day and will have to airlifted home, but that's the beauty of the holidays, huh? Fudge and turkey and cookies, oh my!
In all seriousness, however, this Christmas is different than any other I have known. I am happier, more grounded, and more convinced of Christ's great love than I have ever been. Peace reigns in my once chaotic soul...and it is beautiful.
I have my family, I have my health, I have spectacular friends, and of course, I have my Lily. Heaven is just a short jump away from my everyday life.
So this year I am going to celebrate the joy of the season. I am going to take the moment to allow myself to get teary eyed at the Christmas carols, to enjoy the lights and the ornaments, to watch my baby girl as she experiences the delightful chaos of Christmas Eve. I will also take her into my arms in the quiet stillness of a sleeping house, and whisper to her of Jesus's birth so long ago. A birth we still celebrate today, these years later. A birth that makes our lives as we know it possible. The birth of the One who saves, gives, loves, and cherishes us.
Merry CHRISTmas my friends. May it be peaceful, joyful, and sweet.
Love to all.
You can stop laughing anytime.
The good news is I will be spending Christmas with my favorite people on earth...my family. I will also be consuming oh, roughly, 300 million calories a day and will have to airlifted home, but that's the beauty of the holidays, huh? Fudge and turkey and cookies, oh my!
In all seriousness, however, this Christmas is different than any other I have known. I am happier, more grounded, and more convinced of Christ's great love than I have ever been. Peace reigns in my once chaotic soul...and it is beautiful.
I have my family, I have my health, I have spectacular friends, and of course, I have my Lily. Heaven is just a short jump away from my everyday life.
So this year I am going to celebrate the joy of the season. I am going to take the moment to allow myself to get teary eyed at the Christmas carols, to enjoy the lights and the ornaments, to watch my baby girl as she experiences the delightful chaos of Christmas Eve. I will also take her into my arms in the quiet stillness of a sleeping house, and whisper to her of Jesus's birth so long ago. A birth we still celebrate today, these years later. A birth that makes our lives as we know it possible. The birth of the One who saves, gives, loves, and cherishes us.
Merry CHRISTmas my friends. May it be peaceful, joyful, and sweet.
Love to all.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
She remembers..
Lily saw Dixie's little girl, Spencer, nursing today. This always brings a reknewed interest in breastfeeding, or "NeeNee", as she calls it.
So tonight she had her duck in the bath with her, and she was holding him to her chest. Suddenly she looked up at me and said "NeeNee!!!". She was pretending to nurse her duck.
Later we were drying off and getting lotioned up and she was still holding the duck. She took him from one side to the other and whispered "Udder tide!" (other side)While I watched she "nursed" her duck from the other side and then whispered "all done".
That's when my tears started flowing.
I never spoke those words to her when she was nursing, except in the dead of night when we would nurse in bed. I would softly whisper "other side", and roll her over, then "all done"...and tiptoe her back to her bed.
It was such a special time, when we would just doze together and cuddle. It was primal and loving and nurturing for us both. And she remembers it enough to re-enact it.
After I collected myself I asked her if she remembers "NeeNee's". She nodded. I asked her "Was it good?" and she said promptly "Chocate milk". I knew she meant it tasted like choclate milk to her.
Wow. Anyone who doesn't believe breastfeeding has a profound and lasting impact on a child's soul is crazy. I never thought she would remember her night feedings, but she does. Down to every last movement and word I spoke to her.
She continues to amaze me.
So tonight she had her duck in the bath with her, and she was holding him to her chest. Suddenly she looked up at me and said "NeeNee!!!". She was pretending to nurse her duck.
Later we were drying off and getting lotioned up and she was still holding the duck. She took him from one side to the other and whispered "Udder tide!" (other side)While I watched she "nursed" her duck from the other side and then whispered "all done".
That's when my tears started flowing.
I never spoke those words to her when she was nursing, except in the dead of night when we would nurse in bed. I would softly whisper "other side", and roll her over, then "all done"...and tiptoe her back to her bed.
It was such a special time, when we would just doze together and cuddle. It was primal and loving and nurturing for us both. And she remembers it enough to re-enact it.
After I collected myself I asked her if she remembers "NeeNee's". She nodded. I asked her "Was it good?" and she said promptly "Chocate milk". I knew she meant it tasted like choclate milk to her.
Wow. Anyone who doesn't believe breastfeeding has a profound and lasting impact on a child's soul is crazy. I never thought she would remember her night feedings, but she does. Down to every last movement and word I spoke to her.
She continues to amaze me.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Yahweh Center Project is complete!
Today I delivered the blankets to the Yahweh center. It was a 20 minute drive, and I spent the time listening to praise and worship music and talking to God. There was alot of me telling him just how wonderful He is, and how happy I am that He chose me, and how grateful I am that He allowed me to complete this project.
There were some tears as well, as I thought about those kids that were behind the walls of that center. Sometimes this life just isn't pretty. It isn't safe, and it isn't kind. It most certainly isn't fair. But those children have a fighting chance, because they are surrounded by believers who are focused on getting them well.
I sat for a few minutes in my car, collecting myself before I took the blankets inside. I laid hands on them one last time and prayed for the children that would soon use them. I prayed for their stregth in the face of adversity, for them to be comforted in times of sorrow, and for them to seek His face always.
Sometimes I wonder if it is only through great anguish that we find ourselves searching for God, and for something bigger to alleviate our pain. Surely there are those that have had a beautiful scar free life that love God and worship Him. But there are those who are broken by the past and traumatized by memories that have a deep abiding NEED for God that encompasses their life.
I am so very very grateful to NEED God. To seek Him. To know what it is like to call out and be answered. Found in the wilderness and brought home. He not only comforts me, he calms me. He loves me. He thinks of me. Amazing.
As I drove home, I cried a bit more. Not sad tears, but ones of thankfullness for being allowed to give. The time I spent making those blankets will always be sacred to me. I prayed with each stitch, asking God over and over to bless the child it was going to with calm and knowledge that they were loved. It was such a quiet time for me to just rest with the Lord. He allowed me to have stillness in Him.
As I drove home, I listened to the song you are hearing now. The lyrics are the most profound and humbling I have heard. Being a believer does not mean we have all the answers, or that we are guaranteed a pain free life. It only means that when things are painful and hard, and anguish is all we can feel, we are never alone. We are carried, we are held.
May you feel Christ's love tonight, friend. You are held.
There were some tears as well, as I thought about those kids that were behind the walls of that center. Sometimes this life just isn't pretty. It isn't safe, and it isn't kind. It most certainly isn't fair. But those children have a fighting chance, because they are surrounded by believers who are focused on getting them well.
I sat for a few minutes in my car, collecting myself before I took the blankets inside. I laid hands on them one last time and prayed for the children that would soon use them. I prayed for their stregth in the face of adversity, for them to be comforted in times of sorrow, and for them to seek His face always.
Sometimes I wonder if it is only through great anguish that we find ourselves searching for God, and for something bigger to alleviate our pain. Surely there are those that have had a beautiful scar free life that love God and worship Him. But there are those who are broken by the past and traumatized by memories that have a deep abiding NEED for God that encompasses their life.
I am so very very grateful to NEED God. To seek Him. To know what it is like to call out and be answered. Found in the wilderness and brought home. He not only comforts me, he calms me. He loves me. He thinks of me. Amazing.
As I drove home, I cried a bit more. Not sad tears, but ones of thankfullness for being allowed to give. The time I spent making those blankets will always be sacred to me. I prayed with each stitch, asking God over and over to bless the child it was going to with calm and knowledge that they were loved. It was such a quiet time for me to just rest with the Lord. He allowed me to have stillness in Him.
As I drove home, I listened to the song you are hearing now. The lyrics are the most profound and humbling I have heard. Being a believer does not mean we have all the answers, or that we are guaranteed a pain free life. It only means that when things are painful and hard, and anguish is all we can feel, we are never alone. We are carried, we are held.
May you feel Christ's love tonight, friend. You are held.
Actual conversation...
Sesame street is on...Big Bird is talking about a birdseed omelet.
Me: Ummmmm why would big bird eat an omelet? Isn't that just...wrong?
Mark: Why is that wrong?
Me: Cause he is a BIRD...duh! That would be like me eating unfertilized human eggs.
Mark: Oh yeah.
*we sip coffee in silence*
Me: I wonder if he eats turkey?
Mark: Well, of course he does. Why wouldn't he?
Me: Cause it would be like cannibalism.
Mark: But turkeys are dumb.
Me: *blank stare* ummmm, okay.
Mark: I think he eats turkey.
Me: *nods wisely, goes back to sipping coffee*
There you have it my friends....the discussion between a intensely smart man with his masters in anatomy and physiology, and his formerly intellegent and well read wife.
Don't be jealous.
Me: Ummmmm why would big bird eat an omelet? Isn't that just...wrong?
Mark: Why is that wrong?
Me: Cause he is a BIRD...duh! That would be like me eating unfertilized human eggs.
Mark: Oh yeah.
*we sip coffee in silence*
Me: I wonder if he eats turkey?
Mark: Well, of course he does. Why wouldn't he?
Me: Cause it would be like cannibalism.
Mark: But turkeys are dumb.
Me: *blank stare* ummmm, okay.
Mark: I think he eats turkey.
Me: *nods wisely, goes back to sipping coffee*
There you have it my friends....the discussion between a intensely smart man with his masters in anatomy and physiology, and his formerly intellegent and well read wife.
Don't be jealous.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
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