Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Vote for Matt!
Matt Shephardson was, once upon a time, a much beloved worship leader at Willow Creek Church, where I grew up. He was a great guy; had such a great heart and a boatload of musical talent. And, of course, was an all-round great guy. And of course, it's the great guys that get the short end of the stick--he was diagnosed with MS a few years back, and nearly died, if I remember correctly from the email updates I received so often. Not long ago I wondered whatever happened to him--and was almost afraid to ask, in case the news was worse than I could handle. Well, out of the blue I received an email from a friend today, saying Matt is one of 5 finalists in a contest the Chicago Cubs are holding to pick a one-time singer of "Take Me Out To The Ballgame" at the 7th inning stretch! Today, and today only, you can vote for Matt and help him achieve a life-long dream. Please stop over there today and put in a vote for a great guy!
Friday, August 03, 2007
Where, oh where have my brain cells gone...
Yesterday was one idiotic moment after another for me. Pregnancy brain has hit HARD, let me tell you. And I have to write a book with this mind? I am in so much trouble.
First Idiotic Moment: We were in Ventura, and when Abby and I woke up I gathered our clothes and her diaper stuff and went into the living room. I then realized I didn't have the wipes, and instead of looking, oh, two inches to the left of the pile of stuff I'd brought out, I went back in the bedroom and proceeded to toss the place (as quietly as possible since Dan was still sleeping) trying to find the stupid wipes. I finally give up, go back out, and see the wipes sitting right there, mere inches from where I'd been sitting.
Second Idiotic Moment: I'm at the kitchen table writing an email when Dan says, "Hey Ali, my dad is calling you." So I take out my phone and say, "No he's not," all the while thinking, How does he know he's calling me? Dan looks at me and says, "He's calling you from the den." Oh.
Third Idiotic Moment: I'm packing our stuff up in the bathroom and try to put my glasses in their case, but the case won't close and it looks like the glasses don't fit. I take them out and suddenly cannot tell if these really are my glasses. They look similar, but they seem a little too small...and the inside color doesn't seem quite right. I put them on and and everything goes all fuzzy, then I realize they must be Nancy's and she's probably accidentally taken mine and put them away somewhere. So I take them to her and say, "These were in the bathroom, but I can't find mine. Did you accidentally take them?" She looks at them and says they're definitely not hers. I put them on and say, "Well, the prescription isn't right at all because everything is all--oh...wait...I have my contact lenses in."
This lame and I'm only at 7 weeks?! How on earth will I function in the last trimester?!
First Idiotic Moment: We were in Ventura, and when Abby and I woke up I gathered our clothes and her diaper stuff and went into the living room. I then realized I didn't have the wipes, and instead of looking, oh, two inches to the left of the pile of stuff I'd brought out, I went back in the bedroom and proceeded to toss the place (as quietly as possible since Dan was still sleeping) trying to find the stupid wipes. I finally give up, go back out, and see the wipes sitting right there, mere inches from where I'd been sitting.
Second Idiotic Moment: I'm at the kitchen table writing an email when Dan says, "Hey Ali, my dad is calling you." So I take out my phone and say, "No he's not," all the while thinking, How does he know he's calling me? Dan looks at me and says, "He's calling you from the den." Oh.
Third Idiotic Moment: I'm packing our stuff up in the bathroom and try to put my glasses in their case, but the case won't close and it looks like the glasses don't fit. I take them out and suddenly cannot tell if these really are my glasses. They look similar, but they seem a little too small...and the inside color doesn't seem quite right. I put them on and and everything goes all fuzzy, then I realize they must be Nancy's and she's probably accidentally taken mine and put them away somewhere. So I take them to her and say, "These were in the bathroom, but I can't find mine. Did you accidentally take them?" She looks at them and says they're definitely not hers. I put them on and say, "Well, the prescription isn't right at all because everything is all--oh...wait...I have my contact lenses in."
This lame and I'm only at 7 weeks?! How on earth will I function in the last trimester?!
Sunday, July 29, 2007
While Abby sleeps and the chili simmers...
...thought I'd try to post a little, though this will probably send some psychic vibe to Abby to wake her up. Oh well.
Her new thing, speaking of Abby, is "me" and "my." She points to herself and says both of them very emphatically, thought not typically about any particular object. But it's really cute anyway. Though then she points to me and says, "me", and how on earth do you clarify THAT concept?
Also speaking of Abby, we were at Babies R Us the other day picking up a booster seat (yes, she's about to graduate from the high chair, lucky girl!) when we were approached by one of the Kiddie Kandid photographers. Now, I took Abby in for her 18 month photos not too long ago, and the outing was just a few inches short of disastrous; we ended up with only three pictures, and only had those because of the Photoshopping-like skills of the photographer. She cried, she hid, she was hungry, she was tired, and though she was all smiles while walking around the studio, the minute the camera was on her she was miserable.
Anyway, the photographer on this day says they're training new staff and need some models, and we'll get a free 8 x 10 if we bring Abby on over. We don't even have to buy anything. So I ask Abby, "Want to go get your picture taken?" And she replies, "Okay!" Harrumph, I think, we'll just see how cooperative you are once they're trying to get you to smile.
Well.
She smiled. She laughed. She played with the blocks and didn't freak out when the photographer (despite me explaining how Abby tends to get really shy when strangers try to interact with her) started tickling her with a feather duster. She cooperated while they changed backgrounds and props, she didn't try to get off the table, and only once or twice did she try to hide behind me. In the end, they got a ton of fantastic photos, and I ended up spending $50+ on the pictures I wish we'd gotten the first time around--when she was dressed in an adorable outfit and not a very-obviously strawberry-stained polo. I'll try to figure out how to post them here; they really are precious.
Her language, both spoken and comprehended, continues to grow by leaps and bounds. Oh! And I think she said her first sentence yesterday! Those who know her well will not be surprised at the subject matter: "I want avo!" (Avo = avocado)
I'm continuing to work on my WIP, and currently about 5 pub houses are reviewing the proposal. One has already accepted it at the editorial board level; in August it goes to the pub board level and hopefully will pass there, too. I'm writing (in theory) about 4 days a week now, though only for a couple hours a day, but it feels so good to reconnect with the story, even if it's just for a short while.
Uh-oh! She wakes!
Her new thing, speaking of Abby, is "me" and "my." She points to herself and says both of them very emphatically, thought not typically about any particular object. But it's really cute anyway. Though then she points to me and says, "me", and how on earth do you clarify THAT concept?
Also speaking of Abby, we were at Babies R Us the other day picking up a booster seat (yes, she's about to graduate from the high chair, lucky girl!) when we were approached by one of the Kiddie Kandid photographers. Now, I took Abby in for her 18 month photos not too long ago, and the outing was just a few inches short of disastrous; we ended up with only three pictures, and only had those because of the Photoshopping-like skills of the photographer. She cried, she hid, she was hungry, she was tired, and though she was all smiles while walking around the studio, the minute the camera was on her she was miserable.
Anyway, the photographer on this day says they're training new staff and need some models, and we'll get a free 8 x 10 if we bring Abby on over. We don't even have to buy anything. So I ask Abby, "Want to go get your picture taken?" And she replies, "Okay!" Harrumph, I think, we'll just see how cooperative you are once they're trying to get you to smile.
Well.
She smiled. She laughed. She played with the blocks and didn't freak out when the photographer (despite me explaining how Abby tends to get really shy when strangers try to interact with her) started tickling her with a feather duster. She cooperated while they changed backgrounds and props, she didn't try to get off the table, and only once or twice did she try to hide behind me. In the end, they got a ton of fantastic photos, and I ended up spending $50+ on the pictures I wish we'd gotten the first time around--when she was dressed in an adorable outfit and not a very-obviously strawberry-stained polo. I'll try to figure out how to post them here; they really are precious.
Her language, both spoken and comprehended, continues to grow by leaps and bounds. Oh! And I think she said her first sentence yesterday! Those who know her well will not be surprised at the subject matter: "I want avo!" (Avo = avocado)
I'm continuing to work on my WIP, and currently about 5 pub houses are reviewing the proposal. One has already accepted it at the editorial board level; in August it goes to the pub board level and hopefully will pass there, too. I'm writing (in theory) about 4 days a week now, though only for a couple hours a day, but it feels so good to reconnect with the story, even if it's just for a short while.
Uh-oh! She wakes!
Monday, July 23, 2007
I love a good book list
This meme is going around and it looked like fun so I tagged myself for it. :) I love seeing what books are considered good reading; it helps me to broaden my horizons and read outside my usual authors and genres. Let's see what we've got here....
* Bold the ones you’ve read.
* Italicize the ones you want to read.
* Leave in normal text the ones that don’t interest you.
* Put in ALL CAPS those you haven’t heard of.
* Put a couple of asterisks by the ones you recommend.
1. The DaVinci Code (Dan Brown)
2. Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen) **
3. To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee) **
4. Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell)
5. The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (Tolkien)
6. The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (Tolkien)
7. The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers (Tolkien)
8. Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery) **
9. Outlander (Diana Gabaldon) **
10. A FINE BALANCE (Rohinton Mistry)
11. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (Rowling)
12. Angels and Demons (Dan Brown)
13. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Rowling)
14. A Prayer for Owen Meany (John Irving)
15. Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden)**
16. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Rowling)
17. FALL ON YOUR KNEES (Ann-Marie MacDonald)
18. The Stand (Stephen King)
19. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Rowling)
20. Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)**
21. The Hobbit (Tolkien)
22. The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger)
23. Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)
24. The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
25. Life of Pi (Yann Martel)
26. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams)
27. Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
28. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis)**
29. East of Eden (John Steinbeck)
30. Tuesdays with Morrie (Mitch Albom)
31. Dune (Frank Herbert)
32. The Notebook (Nicholas Sparks)
33. Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
34. 1984 (Orwell)**
35. THE MISTS OF AVALON (Marion Zimmer Bradley)
36. THE PILLARS OF THE EARTH (Ken Follett)
37. THE POWER OF ONE (Bryce Courtenay)
38. I Know This Much Is True (Wally Lamb)
39. The Red Tent (Anita Diamant)
40. THE ALCHEMIST (Paulo Coelho)
41. The Clan of the Cave Bear (Jean M. Auel)
42. The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)
43. Confessions of a Shopahaulic (Sophie Kinsella)
44. The Five People You Meet In Heaven (Mitch Albom)
45. The Bible **
46. Anna Karenina (Tolstoy)
47. The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas)
48. Angela’s Ashes (Frank McCourt)**
49. The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck)
50. She's Come Undone (Wally Lamb)
51. The Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver)
52. A Tale of Two Cities (Dickens)
53. Enders Game (Orson Scott Card)
54. Great Expectations (Dickens) **
55. The Great Gatsby (Fitzgerald)
56. THE STONE ANGEL (Margaret Laurence)
57. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Rowling)
58. The Thorn Birds (Colleen McCullough)
59. The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood)
60. The Time Traveller’s Wife (Audrey Niffenegger) **
61. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky)
62. The Fountainhead (Ayn Rand)
63. War and Peace (Tolstoy)
64. Interview With The Vampire (Anne Rice)
65. FIFTH BUSINESS (Robertson Davies)
66. One Hundred Years Of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
67. The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants (Ann Brashares)
68. Catch-22 (Joseph Heller)
69. Les Miserables (Victor Hugo)**
70. The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
71. Bridget Jones's Diary (Helen Fielding)
72. Love in the Time of Cholera (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
73. Shogun (James Clavell)
74. The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje)
75. The Secret Garden(Frances Hodgson)
76. THE SUMMER TREE (Guy Gavriel Kay)
77. A Tree Grows In Brooklyn (Betty Smith)** (One of my all-time favorites!!)
78. The World According to Garp (John Irving)
79. THE DIVINERS (Margaret Laurence)
80. Charlotte’s Web (E.B. White)
81. NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE (Timothy Findley)
82. Of Mice And Men (Steinbeck)
83. REBECCA (Daphne DuMaurier)
84. WIZARD'S FIRST RULE (Terry Goodkind)
85. Emma (Jane Austen)
86. Watership Down (Richard Adams)
87. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
88. THE STONE DIARIES (Carol Shields)
89. BLINDNESS (Jose Saramago)
90. KANE AND ABEL (Jeffrey Archer)
91. IN THE SKIN OF A LION (Michael Ondaatje)
92. Lord of the Flies (William Golding)
93. The Good Earth (Pearl S. Buck)
94. The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)
95. The Bourne Identity (Robert Ludlum)
96. The Outsiders (S.E. Hinton)
97. White Oleander (Janet Fitch)
98. A WOMAN OF SUBSTANCE (Barbara Taylor Bradford)
99. The Celestine Prophecy (James Redfield)
100. Ulysses (James Joyce)
* Bold the ones you’ve read.
* Italicize the ones you want to read.
* Leave in normal text the ones that don’t interest you.
* Put in ALL CAPS those you haven’t heard of.
* Put a couple of asterisks by the ones you recommend.
1. The DaVinci Code (Dan Brown)
2. Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen) **
3. To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee) **
4. Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell)
5. The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (Tolkien)
6. The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (Tolkien)
7. The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers (Tolkien)
8. Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery) **
9. Outlander (Diana Gabaldon) **
10. A FINE BALANCE (Rohinton Mistry)
11. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (Rowling)
12. Angels and Demons (Dan Brown)
13. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Rowling)
14. A Prayer for Owen Meany (John Irving)
15. Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden)**
16. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Rowling)
17. FALL ON YOUR KNEES (Ann-Marie MacDonald)
18. The Stand (Stephen King)
19. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Rowling)
20. Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)**
21. The Hobbit (Tolkien)
22. The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger)
23. Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)
24. The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
25. Life of Pi (Yann Martel)
26. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams)
27. Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
28. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis)**
29. East of Eden (John Steinbeck)
30. Tuesdays with Morrie (Mitch Albom)
31. Dune (Frank Herbert)
32. The Notebook (Nicholas Sparks)
33. Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
34. 1984 (Orwell)**
35. THE MISTS OF AVALON (Marion Zimmer Bradley)
36. THE PILLARS OF THE EARTH (Ken Follett)
37. THE POWER OF ONE (Bryce Courtenay)
38. I Know This Much Is True (Wally Lamb)
39. The Red Tent (Anita Diamant)
40. THE ALCHEMIST (Paulo Coelho)
41. The Clan of the Cave Bear (Jean M. Auel)
42. The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)
43. Confessions of a Shopahaulic (Sophie Kinsella)
44. The Five People You Meet In Heaven (Mitch Albom)
45. The Bible **
46. Anna Karenina (Tolstoy)
47. The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas)
48. Angela’s Ashes (Frank McCourt)**
49. The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck)
50. She's Come Undone (Wally Lamb)
51. The Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver)
52. A Tale of Two Cities (Dickens)
53. Enders Game (Orson Scott Card)
54. Great Expectations (Dickens) **
55. The Great Gatsby (Fitzgerald)
56. THE STONE ANGEL (Margaret Laurence)
57. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Rowling)
58. The Thorn Birds (Colleen McCullough)
59. The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood)
60. The Time Traveller’s Wife (Audrey Niffenegger) **
61. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky)
62. The Fountainhead (Ayn Rand)
63. War and Peace (Tolstoy)
64. Interview With The Vampire (Anne Rice)
65. FIFTH BUSINESS (Robertson Davies)
66. One Hundred Years Of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
67. The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants (Ann Brashares)
68. Catch-22 (Joseph Heller)
69. Les Miserables (Victor Hugo)**
70. The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
71. Bridget Jones's Diary (Helen Fielding)
72. Love in the Time of Cholera (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
73. Shogun (James Clavell)
74. The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje)
75. The Secret Garden(Frances Hodgson)
76. THE SUMMER TREE (Guy Gavriel Kay)
77. A Tree Grows In Brooklyn (Betty Smith)** (One of my all-time favorites!!)
78. The World According to Garp (John Irving)
79. THE DIVINERS (Margaret Laurence)
80. Charlotte’s Web (E.B. White)
81. NOT WANTED ON THE VOYAGE (Timothy Findley)
82. Of Mice And Men (Steinbeck)
83. REBECCA (Daphne DuMaurier)
84. WIZARD'S FIRST RULE (Terry Goodkind)
85. Emma (Jane Austen)
86. Watership Down (Richard Adams)
87. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
88. THE STONE DIARIES (Carol Shields)
89. BLINDNESS (Jose Saramago)
90. KANE AND ABEL (Jeffrey Archer)
91. IN THE SKIN OF A LION (Michael Ondaatje)
92. Lord of the Flies (William Golding)
93. The Good Earth (Pearl S. Buck)
94. The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)
95. The Bourne Identity (Robert Ludlum)
96. The Outsiders (S.E. Hinton)
97. White Oleander (Janet Fitch)
98. A WOMAN OF SUBSTANCE (Barbara Taylor Bradford)
99. The Celestine Prophecy (James Redfield)
100. Ulysses (James Joyce)
Monday, July 16, 2007
All the big news
So many blessings to report! I just love days like this. :)
First off, as most of you know, this past weekend was the much-anticipated First Weekend Without Abby and RWA Rita award ceremony. Many of you have been praying for us, that Abby would be alright, that my mom would be alright as she took care of Abby, that our trip to Dallas would go without a hitch. Well, y'all are mighty prayer warriors, because things could not have gone better. Granted I was crying inconsolably (no joke) when Mom took Abby Saturday morning, but we managed to get out of the house and to the airport much earlier than planned, which gave us time to grab some breakfast as well. Our flight, um, flew by--definitely didn't feel like we were in the air for nearly three hours--and got in twenty minutes early. Woohoo #1! Got down to the baggage claim and both our bags were coming 'round the corner. Woohoo #2! Got to the car rental place and there was no line and we got a nav system as we'd requested. Woohoo #3! Had no trouble getting to the Singers, where we were staying, and even had plenty of time to eat a leisurely dinner. Woohoo #4! God is so good.
We did have a little trouble figuring out where to park when we got to the ceremony, but it was quickly resolved and we got into the event without a problem. It was a bit uncomfortable, though, because everyone else had been there all weekend and knew each other and had been bonding through critique groups and workshops and whatnot, so we just sat in our row and kept to ourselves. The program was a little silly, but not terrible, and it was awesome seeing all these women be rewarded for all their hard work. The first award, called the Golden Heart, is given to an unpublished author who's trying to get published--they submit their manuscripts and they get critiqued by editors, which is an amazing opportunity for them to learn and improve and hopefully get their stuff sold. The Rita awards came after that, and Tamera Alexander did indeed walk away with the big gold statue, just as I predicted. But, though it's a cliche, it's true: it was a huge honor just ot be nominated. There were thousands of books submitted for this award; to be one of such a select group is a huge vote of confidence for me.
Afterwards we went to Cheesecake Factory for dessert and then back to the house. I didn't think I'd sleep well without Abby right next to me, but it turns out I slept for a solid 7 hours! I haven't done that since before I was pregnant! Man, did it feel good. :) Dan didn't get up until 10:30 so I was able to lounge and read and relax, which was lovely. It was so weird to have all that time to myself! When the Singers got back from church we all went out for lunch, and then they drove us around some really cool parts of Dallas--down Kennedy's motorcade route, around some mansion neighborhoods where folks like Ross Perot and the owner of the Dallas Mavericks live. Gorgeous places. After that we went back to their place and packed and talked until it was time to get the car back in order to only pay for one day's worth of rental. We had a ton of time at the airport, but DFW has tons of shops and restaurants, so it was actually kind of fun, like going to a mall but with planes outside. :)
Coming home all we could talk about was Abby. We missed her so much. She did fantastic, though--save for sleeping Saturday night, which she kinda didn't do. No meltdowns, though (Woohoo #5!), and Mom's body held up (Woohoo #6!) though I heard she went to the chiropractor today, poor thing. When we got home I literally ran to the door and through the house until we found her, along with my parents, playing in one of the bedrooms. Abby looked up, said, "Mama," handed me a Lego, and went back to playing. Much better than the angry, "Why did you leave me?!" meltdown I was expecting (Woohoo #7!) though I wouldn't have minded some spontaneous hugs.
When we got ready to go, we outfitted Abby in a new shirt we got for her--Woohoo #8 is written on the front:
Yes, that's right, come mid-March Abby will have someone else to boss around! Talk about a surprise. Though it wasn't at all planned, we're SUPER excited, of course, and Woohoo #9 is that Kyle and Kelli will be in the states from November-June, so they'll be able to be here, if not for the actual birth, at least sometime in the first couple months. Woohoo #10 is that, so far anyway, I'm not experiencing the protein aversion that had me on a carbs-only diet and which contributed to the 75 pound weight-gain during my first pregnancy, so despite the fact that I'm ravenous most of the time, at least I'm able to eat some more solid stuff. I have already gained a couple pounds, but I'm not anticipating the 10-pounds-a-month like last time; I think most of what I've already put on is from the lousy eating I was doing earlier in the month. As of tomorrow I'll be 5 weeks, and I'm going to start blogging at my old pregnancy blog again to keep the pregnancy stuff separate from this blog, so if you're interested in following the development of the newest Morrow, be sure to keep an eye out there. For those of you who are the praying type, please say one for myself and the baby--especially for this one to culminate in a natural birth and not another c-section. I'd really like to avoid that this time around if I can.
Well, that's all the news here. Guess I'd better go unpack!
First off, as most of you know, this past weekend was the much-anticipated First Weekend Without Abby and RWA Rita award ceremony. Many of you have been praying for us, that Abby would be alright, that my mom would be alright as she took care of Abby, that our trip to Dallas would go without a hitch. Well, y'all are mighty prayer warriors, because things could not have gone better. Granted I was crying inconsolably (no joke) when Mom took Abby Saturday morning, but we managed to get out of the house and to the airport much earlier than planned, which gave us time to grab some breakfast as well. Our flight, um, flew by--definitely didn't feel like we were in the air for nearly three hours--and got in twenty minutes early. Woohoo #1! Got down to the baggage claim and both our bags were coming 'round the corner. Woohoo #2! Got to the car rental place and there was no line and we got a nav system as we'd requested. Woohoo #3! Had no trouble getting to the Singers, where we were staying, and even had plenty of time to eat a leisurely dinner. Woohoo #4! God is so good.
We did have a little trouble figuring out where to park when we got to the ceremony, but it was quickly resolved and we got into the event without a problem. It was a bit uncomfortable, though, because everyone else had been there all weekend and knew each other and had been bonding through critique groups and workshops and whatnot, so we just sat in our row and kept to ourselves. The program was a little silly, but not terrible, and it was awesome seeing all these women be rewarded for all their hard work. The first award, called the Golden Heart, is given to an unpublished author who's trying to get published--they submit their manuscripts and they get critiqued by editors, which is an amazing opportunity for them to learn and improve and hopefully get their stuff sold. The Rita awards came after that, and Tamera Alexander did indeed walk away with the big gold statue, just as I predicted. But, though it's a cliche, it's true: it was a huge honor just ot be nominated. There were thousands of books submitted for this award; to be one of such a select group is a huge vote of confidence for me.
Afterwards we went to Cheesecake Factory for dessert and then back to the house. I didn't think I'd sleep well without Abby right next to me, but it turns out I slept for a solid 7 hours! I haven't done that since before I was pregnant! Man, did it feel good. :) Dan didn't get up until 10:30 so I was able to lounge and read and relax, which was lovely. It was so weird to have all that time to myself! When the Singers got back from church we all went out for lunch, and then they drove us around some really cool parts of Dallas--down Kennedy's motorcade route, around some mansion neighborhoods where folks like Ross Perot and the owner of the Dallas Mavericks live. Gorgeous places. After that we went back to their place and packed and talked until it was time to get the car back in order to only pay for one day's worth of rental. We had a ton of time at the airport, but DFW has tons of shops and restaurants, so it was actually kind of fun, like going to a mall but with planes outside. :)
Coming home all we could talk about was Abby. We missed her so much. She did fantastic, though--save for sleeping Saturday night, which she kinda didn't do. No meltdowns, though (Woohoo #5!), and Mom's body held up (Woohoo #6!) though I heard she went to the chiropractor today, poor thing. When we got home I literally ran to the door and through the house until we found her, along with my parents, playing in one of the bedrooms. Abby looked up, said, "Mama," handed me a Lego, and went back to playing. Much better than the angry, "Why did you leave me?!" meltdown I was expecting (Woohoo #7!) though I wouldn't have minded some spontaneous hugs.
When we got ready to go, we outfitted Abby in a new shirt we got for her--Woohoo #8 is written on the front:
Yes, that's right, come mid-March Abby will have someone else to boss around! Talk about a surprise. Though it wasn't at all planned, we're SUPER excited, of course, and Woohoo #9 is that Kyle and Kelli will be in the states from November-June, so they'll be able to be here, if not for the actual birth, at least sometime in the first couple months. Woohoo #10 is that, so far anyway, I'm not experiencing the protein aversion that had me on a carbs-only diet and which contributed to the 75 pound weight-gain during my first pregnancy, so despite the fact that I'm ravenous most of the time, at least I'm able to eat some more solid stuff. I have already gained a couple pounds, but I'm not anticipating the 10-pounds-a-month like last time; I think most of what I've already put on is from the lousy eating I was doing earlier in the month. As of tomorrow I'll be 5 weeks, and I'm going to start blogging at my old pregnancy blog again to keep the pregnancy stuff separate from this blog, so if you're interested in following the development of the newest Morrow, be sure to keep an eye out there. For those of you who are the praying type, please say one for myself and the baby--especially for this one to culminate in a natural birth and not another c-section. I'd really like to avoid that this time around if I can.
Well, that's all the news here. Guess I'd better go unpack!
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Just keeps getting better
Okay, so yesterday I said the best part was that I didn't have to blow-dry it, but I was wrong. That's not the best part. The best part is that, when I woke up this morning, all I had to do was put the sides back in a barrette and I was done! Score!!
In other news...
My blog has been added to a blogroll of folks attending the Nation Romance Writers conference this month. If you're big into romance writing (or maybe just romance writers) check out http://bloggingnational.blogspot.com to see who else is writing about the experience. Since I'm only attending the award ceremony, I won't have info on any of the other aspects of the conference; these folks most likely will, and would be a great source for those of you considering attending in the future.
Have I mentioned lately how freaking huge Abby is getting? More specifically, her stomach. She looks pregnant, it's ridiculous. I'm guessing we're gearing up for one mor growth spurt--other that or we're going to have an obesity issue soon. I measured her height for the first time (as opposed to length like they do at the doctor's office--there's a difference, you know!) on her little Winnie the Pooh height chart. 31-1/4 inches, or 2'7-1/4" for those of you not used to converting. And 24 pounds, all of it concentrated on her little tummy. Her t-shirts are all getting tight around the middle and she has to wear her shorts and skirts on her hips.
Things are looking god for my current WIP. One house has already expressed an interest in making an offer, and more houses will be receiving the proposal this week and next. Now if I could just find some time to work on the thing...
And speaking of working on it, I started using Randy Ingermanson's snowflake method and retrofitting my WIP to fit with what the method was helping me come up with for the story. It's a fantastic tool; for any of you interested in writing but unsure of how to approach the organization of the story, I strongly encourage you to check it out at Randy's website. I've only gotten about halfway through the method and it's already helped me come up with plot points I hadn't thought of before. It's not going to help you be creative, but it is going to help you analyze your story.
Well, Abby and I are off to the farmer's market for some fresh yummy strawberries. It's a far drive for just one item, but SO worth it. Yum!
In other news...
My blog has been added to a blogroll of folks attending the Nation Romance Writers conference this month. If you're big into romance writing (or maybe just romance writers) check out http://bloggingnational.blogspot.com to see who else is writing about the experience. Since I'm only attending the award ceremony, I won't have info on any of the other aspects of the conference; these folks most likely will, and would be a great source for those of you considering attending in the future.
Have I mentioned lately how freaking huge Abby is getting? More specifically, her stomach. She looks pregnant, it's ridiculous. I'm guessing we're gearing up for one mor growth spurt--other that or we're going to have an obesity issue soon. I measured her height for the first time (as opposed to length like they do at the doctor's office--there's a difference, you know!) on her little Winnie the Pooh height chart. 31-1/4 inches, or 2'7-1/4" for those of you not used to converting. And 24 pounds, all of it concentrated on her little tummy. Her t-shirts are all getting tight around the middle and she has to wear her shorts and skirts on her hips.
Things are looking god for my current WIP. One house has already expressed an interest in making an offer, and more houses will be receiving the proposal this week and next. Now if I could just find some time to work on the thing...
And speaking of working on it, I started using Randy Ingermanson's snowflake method and retrofitting my WIP to fit with what the method was helping me come up with for the story. It's a fantastic tool; for any of you interested in writing but unsure of how to approach the organization of the story, I strongly encourage you to check it out at Randy's website. I've only gotten about halfway through the method and it's already helped me come up with plot points I hadn't thought of before. It's not going to help you be creative, but it is going to help you analyze your story.
Well, Abby and I are off to the farmer's market for some fresh yummy strawberries. It's a far drive for just one item, but SO worth it. Yum!
Monday, July 02, 2007
The final verdict!
I pondered. I vascillated. I Ccalled for help and got lots of responses. And when it came down to it, I let my stylist make the final call. And what did she do? Layers and CURLS! And the curl is, believe it or not, natural--with a little boost from a Bed Head product. The best part: I can do it without blow-drying my hair, all I need is to twist little sections around my finger and let them air-dry. 'Course, the final test will be when I have to do it myself, but she did so little I can't believe I won't be able to replicate the results.
So, here it is:
So...whatcha think?
So, here it is:
So...whatcha think?
Sunday, July 01, 2007
Image Angst
I'm getting my hair cut tomorrow. Not a Great Clips trim, but a real haircut that will hopefully infuse some life into my limp n' lame locks. Highlights, too. Goin' all out, I am! But I'm oscillating between A) just getting layers cut into the front to give my face more of a frame, or B) going back to my super short hair days. I'm never good with choices, and when it comes to my hair I'm even worse.
I decided to go under the scissors after rediscovering Lisa Loeb. She's done some kids music and I was on her site the other day checking out videos, and her hair is SO cute! And it's my length, so her 'do is, well, doable. The question is whether or not that look will look good on me. You tell me: here's me now and a pic of Lisa from her site:
Now, the thing is, I will not put more than about 90 seconds' worth of styling effort into my hair. I just won't. Not on a regular basis, anyway. For big events or stuff where I know my pic might get taken, then sure, but there's no way I'm hauling out the blow dryer and round brush just to go to the park with Abby. And never having had my hair cut this way, I don't know what kind of styling it might require. Sure doesn't look like much, but I could be wrong.
And I'm struggling with whether or not it would look too youngish. I mean, Lisa's got the whole Cute Artsy Girl thing going on, with the glasses and retro-y, bohemian outfits. I do have to get new glasses, and when Dan saw hers he was all like, "Hey, you should get some like those!" But I already struggle a LOT with feeling like a kid and not an adult--so do I really want to overhaul my look to match when it's not something I'm particularly like about myself?
Okay, so, choice B is essentially this:
That's me back when I first moved out to Cali, in '01. I LOVED that hair. It wasn't wash-n-go, either, but it was a heck of a lot closer; I mean, really, there's just not a lot of styling possible when your hair is that short. But it takes a REALLY LONG TIME to grow it out when I get bored with it, and the in-between stages are SO not pretty. In terms of the image it gives, though, it just looks more adult to me. And I'll be honest, I think I felt a lot more confident when my hair was short like that. Don't ask me why--maybe because I felt more adult because I thought I looked more adult. But I just can't get over the fact that, if I decide I don't like it, there's nothing I can do about it but wait for it to grow out. Ugh.
And no, Dan claims he doesn't care what I do. (Though when I said, "I don't know how to have my hair cut," the first thing he said was, "How about like Lisa Loeb?")
Okay, so, I need some votes and feedback. My appointment is at 3:30 PST on Monday. You've got till then to tell me what you think. Help me here, folks!
I decided to go under the scissors after rediscovering Lisa Loeb. She's done some kids music and I was on her site the other day checking out videos, and her hair is SO cute! And it's my length, so her 'do is, well, doable. The question is whether or not that look will look good on me. You tell me: here's me now and a pic of Lisa from her site:
Now, the thing is, I will not put more than about 90 seconds' worth of styling effort into my hair. I just won't. Not on a regular basis, anyway. For big events or stuff where I know my pic might get taken, then sure, but there's no way I'm hauling out the blow dryer and round brush just to go to the park with Abby. And never having had my hair cut this way, I don't know what kind of styling it might require. Sure doesn't look like much, but I could be wrong.
And I'm struggling with whether or not it would look too youngish. I mean, Lisa's got the whole Cute Artsy Girl thing going on, with the glasses and retro-y, bohemian outfits. I do have to get new glasses, and when Dan saw hers he was all like, "Hey, you should get some like those!" But I already struggle a LOT with feeling like a kid and not an adult--so do I really want to overhaul my look to match when it's not something I'm particularly like about myself?
Okay, so, choice B is essentially this:
That's me back when I first moved out to Cali, in '01. I LOVED that hair. It wasn't wash-n-go, either, but it was a heck of a lot closer; I mean, really, there's just not a lot of styling possible when your hair is that short. But it takes a REALLY LONG TIME to grow it out when I get bored with it, and the in-between stages are SO not pretty. In terms of the image it gives, though, it just looks more adult to me. And I'll be honest, I think I felt a lot more confident when my hair was short like that. Don't ask me why--maybe because I felt more adult because I thought I looked more adult. But I just can't get over the fact that, if I decide I don't like it, there's nothing I can do about it but wait for it to grow out. Ugh.
And no, Dan claims he doesn't care what I do. (Though when I said, "I don't know how to have my hair cut," the first thing he said was, "How about like Lisa Loeb?")
Okay, so, I need some votes and feedback. My appointment is at 3:30 PST on Monday. You've got till then to tell me what you think. Help me here, folks!
Thursday, June 21, 2007
New post, finally! And on my new laptop, also finally!
Sheesh, it's been awhile, sorry about that. So many things I've wanted to blog about but just...haven't. No excuses, other than laziness. My apologies. But the coolest part is that I'm typing on my brand spankin' new, almost-as-white-as-me Macbook! Just finished importing all my important files and folders over--I love starting over from scratch. Nice and clean, no files leftover from my teaching days cluttering up the place.
So, let's see, updates updates. Car's still in the shop, though apparently still on schedule, which is good. Returned the gas guzzling Quest and am getting quite used to Kyle's Maxima. I'd forgotten how much I love driving stick. Went to Ventura for Father's Day. Amber, Andrew, and Simon were there as well--Dan's brother's family--so it was a tight squeeze between them, us, and my parents-in-law, but it was fun and actually worked out really well. Abby didn't quite know what to make of Simon, who is not only all boy but also the Energizer Bunny incarnate. He unwittingly taught her how to say "Cool," which is really cute. She also started saying "pool" that weekend, which means any body of water bigger than the bathtub.
ON the subject of Abby, her language is really starting to take off. Today she tried saying "bird" and "ball" for the first time, and she's combining words and signs into pairs a lot more often now, too. "More food" is the most popular, surprise surprise. And then last night, SO cute: in the middle of being totally asleep she suddenly said, "Daddy!" Dan had just come to bed and we were whispering when it happened; he just about melted.
Took Abby into Mom and Dad's pool ("Pool!") for the first time today. Wasn't that excited, unfortunately, but that's my girl, very wary of anything new. She whimpered and clung to me the entire time. I'm hoping by the end of pool season she'll be more into it. She's got this adorable full-body UPF-50 swim outfit that's actually sized for 24 months, but we figured it would last her well into next year that way, and for now we just roll up the sleeves. We got it from Coolibar, along with an awesome floppy hat for me and swim shirt and shorts for Dan. Their stuff is very reasonably priced, and given how many moles Dan and I each have to have removed every time we visit the dermatologist, definitely a worthwhile investment. Plus it's a lot easier than trying to slather Abby in sunscreen.
In other news, we've reduced our carbon footprint by a size or so by purchasing reuseable bags from--where else?--reusablebags.com! I keep forgetting to bring them with me, though--they're in the trunk but I just haven't gotten in the habit yet. I'm much better at remembering when I go to the farmer's market, which I've just started doing--I think because the very act of shopping at a farmer's market seems so crunchy to me, the bags just fit. Popping into Target, I just never remember.
Writing...oh yeah, that's what I do, isn't it?--was going great for a while, but ever since Nana's passing I just haven't done it. Not that it has anything to do with Nana; that's just when things around here went bonkers and I've never gotten back on schedule. I did, however, get my first 5 chapters done and edited and sent off with the proposal to Chip the Wonder Agent, and so far three houses are very interested in working with me. Woohoo! Oh, to have a contract again!
So, let's see, updates updates. Car's still in the shop, though apparently still on schedule, which is good. Returned the gas guzzling Quest and am getting quite used to Kyle's Maxima. I'd forgotten how much I love driving stick. Went to Ventura for Father's Day. Amber, Andrew, and Simon were there as well--Dan's brother's family--so it was a tight squeeze between them, us, and my parents-in-law, but it was fun and actually worked out really well. Abby didn't quite know what to make of Simon, who is not only all boy but also the Energizer Bunny incarnate. He unwittingly taught her how to say "Cool," which is really cute. She also started saying "pool" that weekend, which means any body of water bigger than the bathtub.
ON the subject of Abby, her language is really starting to take off. Today she tried saying "bird" and "ball" for the first time, and she's combining words and signs into pairs a lot more often now, too. "More food" is the most popular, surprise surprise. And then last night, SO cute: in the middle of being totally asleep she suddenly said, "Daddy!" Dan had just come to bed and we were whispering when it happened; he just about melted.
Took Abby into Mom and Dad's pool ("Pool!") for the first time today. Wasn't that excited, unfortunately, but that's my girl, very wary of anything new. She whimpered and clung to me the entire time. I'm hoping by the end of pool season she'll be more into it. She's got this adorable full-body UPF-50 swim outfit that's actually sized for 24 months, but we figured it would last her well into next year that way, and for now we just roll up the sleeves. We got it from Coolibar, along with an awesome floppy hat for me and swim shirt and shorts for Dan. Their stuff is very reasonably priced, and given how many moles Dan and I each have to have removed every time we visit the dermatologist, definitely a worthwhile investment. Plus it's a lot easier than trying to slather Abby in sunscreen.
In other news, we've reduced our carbon footprint by a size or so by purchasing reuseable bags from--where else?--reusablebags.com! I keep forgetting to bring them with me, though--they're in the trunk but I just haven't gotten in the habit yet. I'm much better at remembering when I go to the farmer's market, which I've just started doing--I think because the very act of shopping at a farmer's market seems so crunchy to me, the bags just fit. Popping into Target, I just never remember.
Writing...oh yeah, that's what I do, isn't it?--was going great for a while, but ever since Nana's passing I just haven't done it. Not that it has anything to do with Nana; that's just when things around here went bonkers and I've never gotten back on schedule. I did, however, get my first 5 chapters done and edited and sent off with the proposal to Chip the Wonder Agent, and so far three houses are very interested in working with me. Woohoo! Oh, to have a contract again!
Friday, June 08, 2007
Lame.
Lakers.
Clippers.
Dodgers.
Angels.
Ducks.
Kings.
Padres.
Does SoCal have the wussiest-named sport teams in the country or what?
Clippers.
Dodgers.
Angels.
Ducks.
Kings.
Padres.
Does SoCal have the wussiest-named sport teams in the country or what?
DUCKS WIN! DUCKS WIN! DUCKS WIN!
Wow. What a game. Anyone who doesn't think hockey is anything interesting should really try sitting close enough to see the faces of the guys as they get squished against the glass. I enjoyed watching it before, but honestly, being that close made me want to play. It's so non-stop, so engaging, so exciting--I basically ate my way through the games when we were sitting in the nosebleed seats this past winter, but on Wednesday I barely managed to finish my pizza; I just felt like there wasn't time, there was just so much going on!
And then to see them win...I really wish I'd been a fan for longer, because then it really would have meant something to me. It was still fun, though, especially knowing only one guy on the entire team had ever been on a cup-winning team before. And when you're as sentimental as I am, it doesn't take that much for something to be really moving. This was really moving.
And Abby did pretty well sleeping at my parents' place. My mom didn't get any sleep, but Abby got about 7 hours which, while not as much as usual, is still not bad, considering she's never slept away from me before. But the big news is that she didn't try to nurse when I got her in the morning, and we didn't this morning, either...dare I say I think we're done? Granted she threw a fit when I didn't let her today, but she got over it pretty quick. I can't believe I may finally be closing that chapter of my parenting job with Abby. Definitely bittersweet.
And then to see them win...I really wish I'd been a fan for longer, because then it really would have meant something to me. It was still fun, though, especially knowing only one guy on the entire team had ever been on a cup-winning team before. And when you're as sentimental as I am, it doesn't take that much for something to be really moving. This was really moving.
And Abby did pretty well sleeping at my parents' place. My mom didn't get any sleep, but Abby got about 7 hours which, while not as much as usual, is still not bad, considering she's never slept away from me before. But the big news is that she didn't try to nurse when I got her in the morning, and we didn't this morning, either...dare I say I think we're done? Granted she threw a fit when I didn't let her today, but she got over it pretty quick. I can't believe I may finally be closing that chapter of my parenting job with Abby. Definitely bittersweet.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
I miss my car.
And it's going to be quite a while before I see it again. The mechanic called with the estimate (which the other guy's insurance is paying, THANK GOODNESS, because it's over $5,000!) and said it would probably be another...FOUR WEEKS. AAAAAUUUHHHGG! Although, I have to admit, the Nissan Quest we're renting drives really nicely--much more smoothly than our Odyssey. If you're thinking of getting a van, definitely test drive it.
But, regardless of how nicely it drives, I still want mine back. Besides the fact that I'm always worried when I drive a rental--what if I bust it?--it also doesn't have all the little stashes of handy stuff that we've built up in the Honda over the last year and a half. You don't think about how often you dip into those stashes until they're not there.
One good thing: Abby's learning to ride in the car without watching "Dee-dee." It's been a week and she still points to the ceiling and says, "Dee-dee?" every time we get in. I am greatly disturbed by her attachment to video. I think, when we get the Odyssey back, we'll NOT be watching it as much as we were. Though when she sees it's there and we're just not playing it, I can guarantee she'll throw a fit. Oh well. It's amazing how good I'm getting at tuning out those screams.
But, regardless of how nicely it drives, I still want mine back. Besides the fact that I'm always worried when I drive a rental--what if I bust it?--it also doesn't have all the little stashes of handy stuff that we've built up in the Honda over the last year and a half. You don't think about how often you dip into those stashes until they're not there.
One good thing: Abby's learning to ride in the car without watching "Dee-dee." It's been a week and she still points to the ceiling and says, "Dee-dee?" every time we get in. I am greatly disturbed by her attachment to video. I think, when we get the Odyssey back, we'll NOT be watching it as much as we were. Though when she sees it's there and we're just not playing it, I can guarantee she'll throw a fit. Oh well. It's amazing how good I'm getting at tuning out those screams.
Go Ducks!!!
Dan is a huge hockey fan. Until we married I'd seen one hockey game in my whole life, and while I enjoyed it, I attributed it more to the fact that I was actually AT the game. But once I started watching the Colorado Avalanche with Dan, I got hooked. We've gone to a couple games this season when the Avs were playing the Ducks, and Dan's decided he's a Ducks fan, too. Well, for those of you who don't know (which, given how few people watch hockey, is probably most of you) the Ducks are in the playoffs for the Stanley Cup. This is very big. I don't think they've won it before. Tonight is game 5, and if they win, they win the cup, having already won 3 of the series games. And the best part is that WE HAVE TICKETS! And not only do we have tickets, we have AMAZING tickets: three rows from the glass, dead center on one of the blue lines. IIIEEEEE!!! My dad, being the incredible guy he is, bought them for us and surprised Dan with them after the Ducks lost the game on Monday. (The fact that they lost was actually a VERY good thing. Had they won, that would have been 4 wins, and the series would have been over. Not only would there not have been a game today, my dad wouldn't have gotten a refund. Ouch!) So if you don't have anything else to watch tonight, check out the game, and look for us! I think there's a good chance we'll get on TV, at least in quick little blips here and there; we're on the side of the ice where the penalty boxes are, and there's one fairly close to us, I think, and they always show those on TV. I'll be in a white Ducks jersey and black hat, Dan will be in an orange Ducks sweatshirt and a black hat. GO DUCKS!!!!!!!!!!
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Not luck.
"God only knows the times my life was threatened just today;
A reckless car ran out of gas before it ran my way.
Near misses all around me, accidents unknown,
Though I never see with human eyes the hands that lead me home."
That was one of my favorite Amy Grant songs when I was a kid--"Angels Watching Over Me." I'm not really sure what I think about the whole angels thing--I think popular culture has probably overemphasized their role in our lives, but hey, there are worse ways to warp your spirituality. Anyway, I digress. The reason I've been thinking about that song so much tonight is because I had one of those guardian angel moments this evening when some kid in a fancy car took a turn at who knows how fast, jumped a median, and slammed into my van while I waited for a red light to change.
It's really weird to see a car coming at you and to know there's nothing you can do about it. The only thing I thought before he hit me was, "Oh boy, he just lost control. And now he's gonna hit me." I'll admit it, I didn't think about the fact that Abby was in the backseat. Does this make me a bad mom? Maybe that would have been the next thought, had there been time for me to have another thought. Or maybe it was part of that guardian angel thing--I wasn't scared at all. My life didn't flash before my eyes--and I've had that happen, the last time I was in an accident, though that time there was a lot of careening around on the road and slamming into stuff and airbags popping, so there was a lot more time to panic and think about what was going to happen next. But this time...I don't know, it was more like the feeling you get when you realize that, say, you're water heater burst and there's going to be a lot of mess to clean up: "Aw crap, there goes my afternoon."
We weren't hurt. The airbags didn't even go off. He wasn't coming at us at full speed, and he hit us at an angle, and on the side of the end of the car, so we didn't even get the full brunt of the impact. Abby had been crying already, annoyed that I turned off her VeggieTales music, and when we got hit she went silent for a second and then started to wail, but it was obvious it was just the shock of the impact and not from pain. When I got her into my lap and gave her my phone she was content. Given the fact that she was tired (I'd just left the house to take her out for her afternoon nap) and hungry, she was a real trooper for the hour that we were dealing with things. It's amazing how long a 17-month-old can be entertained with a cellphone and a wallet.
So now we have all sorts of fun ahead of us with our insurance and the other driver's insurance and car repairs and rentals and buying a new careseat for Abby (which just figures: that one was brand new--but California law requires that you replace a carseat that has been in a crash). Blah. And as the night's gone on my neck and back and shoulder and wrist have been aching more and more, so I'm probably in for some chiropractic visits too. But given what it could have been, this is no big deal. No big deal at all. My baby is okay, I'm okay, the car is driveable, we have insurance and so did the other guy.
Thanks, angels.
A reckless car ran out of gas before it ran my way.
Near misses all around me, accidents unknown,
Though I never see with human eyes the hands that lead me home."
That was one of my favorite Amy Grant songs when I was a kid--"Angels Watching Over Me." I'm not really sure what I think about the whole angels thing--I think popular culture has probably overemphasized their role in our lives, but hey, there are worse ways to warp your spirituality. Anyway, I digress. The reason I've been thinking about that song so much tonight is because I had one of those guardian angel moments this evening when some kid in a fancy car took a turn at who knows how fast, jumped a median, and slammed into my van while I waited for a red light to change.
It's really weird to see a car coming at you and to know there's nothing you can do about it. The only thing I thought before he hit me was, "Oh boy, he just lost control. And now he's gonna hit me." I'll admit it, I didn't think about the fact that Abby was in the backseat. Does this make me a bad mom? Maybe that would have been the next thought, had there been time for me to have another thought. Or maybe it was part of that guardian angel thing--I wasn't scared at all. My life didn't flash before my eyes--and I've had that happen, the last time I was in an accident, though that time there was a lot of careening around on the road and slamming into stuff and airbags popping, so there was a lot more time to panic and think about what was going to happen next. But this time...I don't know, it was more like the feeling you get when you realize that, say, you're water heater burst and there's going to be a lot of mess to clean up: "Aw crap, there goes my afternoon."
We weren't hurt. The airbags didn't even go off. He wasn't coming at us at full speed, and he hit us at an angle, and on the side of the end of the car, so we didn't even get the full brunt of the impact. Abby had been crying already, annoyed that I turned off her VeggieTales music, and when we got hit she went silent for a second and then started to wail, but it was obvious it was just the shock of the impact and not from pain. When I got her into my lap and gave her my phone she was content. Given the fact that she was tired (I'd just left the house to take her out for her afternoon nap) and hungry, she was a real trooper for the hour that we were dealing with things. It's amazing how long a 17-month-old can be entertained with a cellphone and a wallet.
So now we have all sorts of fun ahead of us with our insurance and the other driver's insurance and car repairs and rentals and buying a new careseat for Abby (which just figures: that one was brand new--but California law requires that you replace a carseat that has been in a crash). Blah. And as the night's gone on my neck and back and shoulder and wrist have been aching more and more, so I'm probably in for some chiropractic visits too. But given what it could have been, this is no big deal. No big deal at all. My baby is okay, I'm okay, the car is driveable, we have insurance and so did the other guy.
Thanks, angels.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Circle of Life
Nana died last night. It was one of those things where she was breathing one second, and then she wasn't. She was sleeping at the time, too, so it was even more peaceful. We just found out Sunday that she had advanced cancer--bone, lymph nodes, liver, and lung--though the fractured vertebrae she's been dealing with since October turned out to actually be the beginning of the bone cancer, which most likely fed into the development of the others. Between then and yesterday she'd been doing sort of alright--heck, yesterday morning she had oatmeal for breakfast and was conversing with Mom--and at 5:45, when Mom was about to wake her up to introduce her to the new 24/7 hospice nurse that had just arrived, she decided enough was enough and went to Jesus.
Dad, Dan, my brother Kyle, and I had just gotten our salads at a local steakhouse when Dad's cell rang and Mom told us what had happened. We ditched dinner and went straight to Nana's house, and for the next two hours we all just hung out on the front step, waiting for the hoospice social worker to come, and then for him to do his thing. It was incredibly pleasant. Having Abby there was the perfect distraction, but no one shied away from speaking about Nana. We talked about how obvious it was that God had orchestrated things this way: Kyle and Kelli just returned Monday from Scotland, my dad had blocked off June so he doesn't have any speaking or traveling scheduled (minus a wedding he and Mom will go to in Chicago, during which he'll speak at Willow Creek's Chicago campus). It was a really lovely way to process what had happened and spend some quiet family time together.
Nana was 86. She lost a fiance in WWII, and married my grandfather, who she'd met when he was stationed in her hometown of Glasgow, Scotland, at the end of the war. Her wedding cake was cobbled together from rations borrowed from various Navy officials with whom she worked--she was a "WREN", which was the women's arm of Great Britain's Royal Navy. She came to America on the Queen Mary, lived awhile with her in-laws (picture Marie and Frank Barone minus the comic relief), and after many years, at 32, was finally able to conceive a baby girl. They raised her on a gracery cashier's and a barber's incomes in the suburbs of Chicago, which got increasingly more difficult in the long-haired 60's and 70's.
They retired to Sun City, Arizona before I was born, and came to visit every fall--September to me as a child always meant the beginning of school and two weeks with Nana and Papa at our house. Nana smoked from the time she was 15; one of my fondest memories will always be sitting on the back porch of our house, doing my homework at the table there while she had a cigarette. To this day, the smell of Marlboros instantly conjures Nana's face in my mind.
She and Papa moved here to California, just 5 minutes from where Dan and I now live, in 2001. Papa had a stroke quite soon after their move, and Nana was widowed that April. (Another one of God's provision: moving her out here before that happened.) In 2002 she and I took a cruise to Alaska, something she'd always wanted to do and never thought she'd get the chance to try. I'm so grateful to have been able to set that up for her; she was still talking about that trip a couple months ago. That autumn she suffered a fall that seemed to trigger a series of problems that eventually led to her losing the sight in one eye and being unable to lie down flat because of the vertigo that would always strike. The last five years have been progressinvely more and more frustrating for her as her health seemed to slowly slip away from her. Two events took her mind off those things: a trip back to Scotland in 2004, when Dan and I were her escorts, and the birth of Abigail, who brought her constant joy and entertainment.
She was an avid reader, a crossword puzzle expert, and, in her younger years, a skilled bowler--she still has a small trophy from who-knows-when sitting on her bookshelf. She loved rummage sales when social security provided most of their retired income, and in her later years, when an inheritance from her husband's sister brought her more money than she'd ever had in her entire life, she discovered the joys of retail therapy; Chico's, Talbot's, and Coldwater Creek can thank her for keeping them afloat for the last 5 years. (Oh, and how could I forget: QVC jewelry!) After fifty years in this country her voice still had a Scottish lilt.
Life goes on. Abby's whining at my feet, my stomach is growling, and there's a load of laundry that needs to be folded. But between demands on my brainpower I will think of cups of tea shared in the evenings after supper, sitting on the porch with wisps of smoke curling through the air above my history notebook, and hands of contract rummy between Nana, Mom, and me after holiday meals.
Bye, Nana. See you in heaven.
Dad, Dan, my brother Kyle, and I had just gotten our salads at a local steakhouse when Dad's cell rang and Mom told us what had happened. We ditched dinner and went straight to Nana's house, and for the next two hours we all just hung out on the front step, waiting for the hoospice social worker to come, and then for him to do his thing. It was incredibly pleasant. Having Abby there was the perfect distraction, but no one shied away from speaking about Nana. We talked about how obvious it was that God had orchestrated things this way: Kyle and Kelli just returned Monday from Scotland, my dad had blocked off June so he doesn't have any speaking or traveling scheduled (minus a wedding he and Mom will go to in Chicago, during which he'll speak at Willow Creek's Chicago campus). It was a really lovely way to process what had happened and spend some quiet family time together.
Nana was 86. She lost a fiance in WWII, and married my grandfather, who she'd met when he was stationed in her hometown of Glasgow, Scotland, at the end of the war. Her wedding cake was cobbled together from rations borrowed from various Navy officials with whom she worked--she was a "WREN", which was the women's arm of Great Britain's Royal Navy. She came to America on the Queen Mary, lived awhile with her in-laws (picture Marie and Frank Barone minus the comic relief), and after many years, at 32, was finally able to conceive a baby girl. They raised her on a gracery cashier's and a barber's incomes in the suburbs of Chicago, which got increasingly more difficult in the long-haired 60's and 70's.
They retired to Sun City, Arizona before I was born, and came to visit every fall--September to me as a child always meant the beginning of school and two weeks with Nana and Papa at our house. Nana smoked from the time she was 15; one of my fondest memories will always be sitting on the back porch of our house, doing my homework at the table there while she had a cigarette. To this day, the smell of Marlboros instantly conjures Nana's face in my mind.
She and Papa moved here to California, just 5 minutes from where Dan and I now live, in 2001. Papa had a stroke quite soon after their move, and Nana was widowed that April. (Another one of God's provision: moving her out here before that happened.) In 2002 she and I took a cruise to Alaska, something she'd always wanted to do and never thought she'd get the chance to try. I'm so grateful to have been able to set that up for her; she was still talking about that trip a couple months ago. That autumn she suffered a fall that seemed to trigger a series of problems that eventually led to her losing the sight in one eye and being unable to lie down flat because of the vertigo that would always strike. The last five years have been progressinvely more and more frustrating for her as her health seemed to slowly slip away from her. Two events took her mind off those things: a trip back to Scotland in 2004, when Dan and I were her escorts, and the birth of Abigail, who brought her constant joy and entertainment.
She was an avid reader, a crossword puzzle expert, and, in her younger years, a skilled bowler--she still has a small trophy from who-knows-when sitting on her bookshelf. She loved rummage sales when social security provided most of their retired income, and in her later years, when an inheritance from her husband's sister brought her more money than she'd ever had in her entire life, she discovered the joys of retail therapy; Chico's, Talbot's, and Coldwater Creek can thank her for keeping them afloat for the last 5 years. (Oh, and how could I forget: QVC jewelry!) After fifty years in this country her voice still had a Scottish lilt.
Life goes on. Abby's whining at my feet, my stomach is growling, and there's a load of laundry that needs to be folded. But between demands on my brainpower I will think of cups of tea shared in the evenings after supper, sitting on the porch with wisps of smoke curling through the air above my history notebook, and hands of contract rummy between Nana, Mom, and me after holiday meals.
Bye, Nana. See you in heaven.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Snitch by Rene Gutteridge
I just put up a post on my other blog about Snitch, the newest release from Rene Gutteridge in her "Occupational Hazards" series. I read the first book in this series a while back and LOVED it. Anyway, check it out.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
8 Things
Okay, so I was tagged for this meme, like, three weeks ago, and I've just been so busy I haven't had time to post it. So here goes: 8 Things You Don't Know About Me. (I don't think, anyway.)
1. I was a roleplaying game addict in college. True! I had a character on Shadowrun, a jazz-singing elf who managed to befriend the head of the Yakuza AND the Ancients. (Trust me, that's impressive.) The writer in me loved it because it was like writing a story where all the characters wrote their own part of the plot, and the shy-in-real-life, lousy-at-conversationalist in me loved that I could type everything instead of having to talk--I'm so much wittier and eloquent when I'm behind a keyboard. I'd log on as soon as I got home from class and stay on until I went to bed; my roommate actually got to the point where she had trouble falling asleep if I wasn't typing. :)
2. Dan and I not only met on eHarmony.com, but we're in some of their commercials, both on TV and the radio. When they first started doing commercials, we were on all the time, but now you don't see them as much.
3. I wrote my first novel in junior high. I used to write during my other classes, two lines of text per line on the notebook paper so I could squeeze more in and not go through paper so fast, and at lunch my friends would pass around the pages I'd completed and keep up with the story. It was really melodramatic--surprise, surprise, given I was in seventh grade--and until 2002 it was the longest piece of writing I'd ever done (and the only book I'd ever finished).
4. I sang in the Black Choir in college. That's what it was actually called, the Black Choir, which tells you just how much I stuck out.
5. I've seen the musical Les Miserables 7 times.
6. In 2002 I went on an Alaskan cruise, and the ship had a piano bar where you could do karaoke with live accompaniment. The piano guy could play pretty much anything, and he'd play whatever he felt like until someone made a request, and when you requested something he'd let you sing it if you wanted, microphone and everything. So one night I went and requested a song and sang along, and then people started giving me requests. I ended up singing for two hours, and at the end of it we'd packed the bar. I sang every night for the rest of the cruise, and one night someone asked if I knew anything from Les Miz. Ha! I can sing practically the entire libretto! So we did, like, four songs from that, and the next day I had two people ask me who I'd been when I'd toured with the musical!
7. I've only read three of my dad's books--and none of them was The Case for Christ.
8. I hate being outside.
Upon reviewing this list, I have to say I am probably one of them most uninteresting people on the Internet.
I know I'm supposed to tag 8 other people or something like that, but I think everyone I'd usually tag for this kind of thing has already done it in the last month or so. Sorry I'm breaking the chain--I'm not gonna have bad luck for the next 8 years or anything, am I?
1. I was a roleplaying game addict in college. True! I had a character on Shadowrun, a jazz-singing elf who managed to befriend the head of the Yakuza AND the Ancients. (Trust me, that's impressive.) The writer in me loved it because it was like writing a story where all the characters wrote their own part of the plot, and the shy-in-real-life, lousy-at-conversationalist in me loved that I could type everything instead of having to talk--I'm so much wittier and eloquent when I'm behind a keyboard. I'd log on as soon as I got home from class and stay on until I went to bed; my roommate actually got to the point where she had trouble falling asleep if I wasn't typing. :)
2. Dan and I not only met on eHarmony.com, but we're in some of their commercials, both on TV and the radio. When they first started doing commercials, we were on all the time, but now you don't see them as much.
3. I wrote my first novel in junior high. I used to write during my other classes, two lines of text per line on the notebook paper so I could squeeze more in and not go through paper so fast, and at lunch my friends would pass around the pages I'd completed and keep up with the story. It was really melodramatic--surprise, surprise, given I was in seventh grade--and until 2002 it was the longest piece of writing I'd ever done (and the only book I'd ever finished).
4. I sang in the Black Choir in college. That's what it was actually called, the Black Choir, which tells you just how much I stuck out.
5. I've seen the musical Les Miserables 7 times.
6. In 2002 I went on an Alaskan cruise, and the ship had a piano bar where you could do karaoke with live accompaniment. The piano guy could play pretty much anything, and he'd play whatever he felt like until someone made a request, and when you requested something he'd let you sing it if you wanted, microphone and everything. So one night I went and requested a song and sang along, and then people started giving me requests. I ended up singing for two hours, and at the end of it we'd packed the bar. I sang every night for the rest of the cruise, and one night someone asked if I knew anything from Les Miz. Ha! I can sing practically the entire libretto! So we did, like, four songs from that, and the next day I had two people ask me who I'd been when I'd toured with the musical!
7. I've only read three of my dad's books--and none of them was The Case for Christ.
8. I hate being outside.
Upon reviewing this list, I have to say I am probably one of them most uninteresting people on the Internet.
I know I'm supposed to tag 8 other people or something like that, but I think everyone I'd usually tag for this kind of thing has already done it in the last month or so. Sorry I'm breaking the chain--I'm not gonna have bad luck for the next 8 years or anything, am I?
Wean-y, whiny, woe!
Hell hath no fury like Abby when she's told she can't nurse. WOW. Last night was the first night I didn't nurse her at all once she fell asleep. Up until now, I've been cutting her off after 30 seconds and making her go back to sleep wit her paci and not, um, me. She was doing pretty well, with just the occasional crying bout that was more plaintive and tired than actually mad, and I could usually get her back to sleep with some gentle shushing and back-rubbing. The last two nights I've gotten her to bed in the first place by nursing her for a few minutes and then giving her the paci; she hasn't gone straight to sleep but she hasn't been as roly-poly and crazy as she used to be, either, so last night I decided to take the leap and cut her off after that initial nurse. She slept for about 2.5 hours and then woke up, which is par for her, and I went in and cuddled her and shushed her and told her that the milk went night-night.
Enter screaming banshee.
I've never seen Abby that kind of upset before. She was screaming a new kind of scream, and kicking me, and alternately slapping and grabbing at my chest. I'd try to pick her up and she'd throw herself out of my arms. I couldn't help but laugh, which I know sounds totally heartless and cruel, but honestly, it was like she was possessed or something, and all I could think was, "Holy overreaction, Batman! It's just thirty seconds of milk!"
This lasted for about 10 minutes before she managed to worm her hand under my shirt and, um, grab me. And then--silence. I'd been stopping her from putting her hands up my shirt because I was afraid she'd be like, "Hey, they're here, let me at 'em!" But apparently the skin contact was the only comfort she needed. She was pretty worked up, so it took her awhile to fall asleep, but other than the hiccuppy leftovers from crying, she was quiet. The rest of the times she woke up she'd start getting upset, but I'd just shove her hand up my shirt and she's calm down pretty quickly. Go figure. Whatever works, eh?
We have our tickets for our flight to Dallas in July, so I've been pretty motivated to make sure she's fully weaned and used to not nursing anymore to sleep so that when my parents take her for that weekend she'll be okay. After we get the nights down pat (or close) we'll start working on the daytime naps. With the price of gas going the way it is, it's getting awfully expensive to drive her around twice a day...
Enter screaming banshee.
I've never seen Abby that kind of upset before. She was screaming a new kind of scream, and kicking me, and alternately slapping and grabbing at my chest. I'd try to pick her up and she'd throw herself out of my arms. I couldn't help but laugh, which I know sounds totally heartless and cruel, but honestly, it was like she was possessed or something, and all I could think was, "Holy overreaction, Batman! It's just thirty seconds of milk!"
This lasted for about 10 minutes before she managed to worm her hand under my shirt and, um, grab me. And then--silence. I'd been stopping her from putting her hands up my shirt because I was afraid she'd be like, "Hey, they're here, let me at 'em!" But apparently the skin contact was the only comfort she needed. She was pretty worked up, so it took her awhile to fall asleep, but other than the hiccuppy leftovers from crying, she was quiet. The rest of the times she woke up she'd start getting upset, but I'd just shove her hand up my shirt and she's calm down pretty quickly. Go figure. Whatever works, eh?
We have our tickets for our flight to Dallas in July, so I've been pretty motivated to make sure she's fully weaned and used to not nursing anymore to sleep so that when my parents take her for that weekend she'll be okay. After we get the nights down pat (or close) we'll start working on the daytime naps. With the price of gas going the way it is, it's getting awfully expensive to drive her around twice a day...
Monday, May 14, 2007
Putting one foot in front of the other
Metamorpha Chapter 2 Blogmap: Talk about what it might look like to climb toward what you wish were true (but isn't yet) about your life.
I think that I knew in my head that I needed to change, that I was not the person God wanted me to be, but it wasn't clear exactly how I needed to change until I got married and became a mom. Marriage was a mirror for me; suddenly I could see, quite clearly, just how selfish and independent (to a fault, that is--independence in and of itself isn't a bad thing) I was. I think that over the last three (four in August!) years I've improved in those areas. But then I had Abby and realized that, yes, I had improved, but I'd not gotten anywhere near where I needed to be. If marriage was a mirror, then motherhood was a big booming voice from heaven.
Who do I wish I was? Well, all sorts of things, but for practicality's sake, I'll limit my desires to those I can actually attain. I wish I was more selfless. I tend to keep score in my head, though I never actually voice that score to the person against whom I'm counting. I wish I could be more generous and sacrificial and not think, "Score one for me--now how are you going to repay me?" I've been really convicted lately by some of my friends--not that they know they were being convicting. They're just being, well, generous and sacrificial and selfless. Compared to them I live with an embarrassment of riches, and yet they give of their time and goods and energy without a second though.
I wish I was more disciplined. I'm getting better, but it's like my brain can only handle so many "must-do's" before it shuts down. I look at my mom and see how disciplined she is, how every single day she's doing things she definitely doesn't want to do, but does them faithfully anyway. I wouldn't last for a week living as she does. I'm such a marshmallow.
I wish I had a more intimate relationship with God. I'm trying, I really am, but I feel like I've been trying my whole life and haven't gotten any closer--like living on a hamster wheel. I think changing my entire approach and perception of what it means to live the Christian life is going to help, and Metamorpha is key in that change. When I think about Abby and what I want to model for her, I realize that at this point the whole lesson would be "Don't do it this way." And that's wrong.
I want to be bolder. I want to be braver. I want to be less fearful of messing up and more willing to take risks. I want to be able to speak my mind--nicely, mind you, but honestly, too--and not censor myself just because someone might not agree with me--or, worse, because someone might get angry with me.
So those are the things I wish were true about my life. But the question asked what it would look like to turn those wishes into reality. I think I'm afraid to fully consider that question, because I know a major chunk of the answer is going to be: work. Another major chunk is going to be: pray. Work is hard. Work hurts. Work gives me bruises and strains my muscles and makes me sweat. I don't mind the work when it's external--working on my writing, working on the laundry, the house--but when it's working on myself....ouch. And despite the fact that I'm going on 26 years of being a Christian, I still suck at praying. And that right there is a testament to the fact that I need to do some work.
So...*deep breath*...it's going to look like:
letting go of things and giving as freely as God has given to me
letting go of my obsession with comfort in order to look back in a couple years and see that yes, I am different, but in a good way
taking one day at a time and saying that today I will do X, and Y, and Z, not because I want to but because I need to--and not thinking, "How will I ever last doing X and Y and Z every day for the rest of my life?" so that I get overwhelmed and give it all up
rooting my self-worth in my Maker and not the acceptance and love of people
opening my hands, my head, and my heart to God and praying the most dangerous prayer known to man: Father, change me.
Almost couldn't type that last one. It's too scary. Do you have any idea what God does to people who pray that earnestly? He does it! And that's what scares me. Because it's not a matter of slapping on a new coat of paint or glue-gunning some trim around the edges or rearranging the furniture. It's about dismantling the house--board by board, nail by nail--and allowing a whole new structure to be built. Lots of sweat. Lots of blood. Lots of splinters, and mis-swung hammers, and flat-out pain. But if I believe God to be who I think he is, and I believe that his Son has come that I may live life to the full, then what else can I do but take him up on the offer of a remodel?
deep breath
Father?
Change me.
I think that I knew in my head that I needed to change, that I was not the person God wanted me to be, but it wasn't clear exactly how I needed to change until I got married and became a mom. Marriage was a mirror for me; suddenly I could see, quite clearly, just how selfish and independent (to a fault, that is--independence in and of itself isn't a bad thing) I was. I think that over the last three (four in August!) years I've improved in those areas. But then I had Abby and realized that, yes, I had improved, but I'd not gotten anywhere near where I needed to be. If marriage was a mirror, then motherhood was a big booming voice from heaven.
Who do I wish I was? Well, all sorts of things, but for practicality's sake, I'll limit my desires to those I can actually attain. I wish I was more selfless. I tend to keep score in my head, though I never actually voice that score to the person against whom I'm counting. I wish I could be more generous and sacrificial and not think, "Score one for me--now how are you going to repay me?" I've been really convicted lately by some of my friends--not that they know they were being convicting. They're just being, well, generous and sacrificial and selfless. Compared to them I live with an embarrassment of riches, and yet they give of their time and goods and energy without a second though.
I wish I was more disciplined. I'm getting better, but it's like my brain can only handle so many "must-do's" before it shuts down. I look at my mom and see how disciplined she is, how every single day she's doing things she definitely doesn't want to do, but does them faithfully anyway. I wouldn't last for a week living as she does. I'm such a marshmallow.
I wish I had a more intimate relationship with God. I'm trying, I really am, but I feel like I've been trying my whole life and haven't gotten any closer--like living on a hamster wheel. I think changing my entire approach and perception of what it means to live the Christian life is going to help, and Metamorpha is key in that change. When I think about Abby and what I want to model for her, I realize that at this point the whole lesson would be "Don't do it this way." And that's wrong.
I want to be bolder. I want to be braver. I want to be less fearful of messing up and more willing to take risks. I want to be able to speak my mind--nicely, mind you, but honestly, too--and not censor myself just because someone might not agree with me--or, worse, because someone might get angry with me.
So those are the things I wish were true about my life. But the question asked what it would look like to turn those wishes into reality. I think I'm afraid to fully consider that question, because I know a major chunk of the answer is going to be: work. Another major chunk is going to be: pray. Work is hard. Work hurts. Work gives me bruises and strains my muscles and makes me sweat. I don't mind the work when it's external--working on my writing, working on the laundry, the house--but when it's working on myself....ouch. And despite the fact that I'm going on 26 years of being a Christian, I still suck at praying. And that right there is a testament to the fact that I need to do some work.
So...*deep breath*...it's going to look like:
letting go of things and giving as freely as God has given to me
letting go of my obsession with comfort in order to look back in a couple years and see that yes, I am different, but in a good way
taking one day at a time and saying that today I will do X, and Y, and Z, not because I want to but because I need to--and not thinking, "How will I ever last doing X and Y and Z every day for the rest of my life?" so that I get overwhelmed and give it all up
rooting my self-worth in my Maker and not the acceptance and love of people
opening my hands, my head, and my heart to God and praying the most dangerous prayer known to man: Father, change me.
Almost couldn't type that last one. It's too scary. Do you have any idea what God does to people who pray that earnestly? He does it! And that's what scares me. Because it's not a matter of slapping on a new coat of paint or glue-gunning some trim around the edges or rearranging the furniture. It's about dismantling the house--board by board, nail by nail--and allowing a whole new structure to be built. Lots of sweat. Lots of blood. Lots of splinters, and mis-swung hammers, and flat-out pain. But if I believe God to be who I think he is, and I believe that his Son has come that I may live life to the full, then what else can I do but take him up on the offer of a remodel?
deep breath
Father?
Change me.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Mother's Day
My mother's day got an early start when Abby woke up vomiting at 6 this morning. Poor kid. Spent the morning watching "dee-dee" (a.k.a. TV--I am SO SAD she has a word for TV, but oh well), throwing up, and sleeping on her tummy on the floor, arms and legs cocked like a little frog. It was adorable, or would have been, anyway, if I hadn't known she was wiped out from puking. :( But she stopped throwing up just as quickly as she'd started, and by 8:30 she seemed fine, and other than being far more cuddly than she usually is, she's been fine ever since. Thank heavens!
It's been forever since I blogged--and forever since I did anything remotely connected to writing or studying. Why is it I keep thinking I'm finally going to get to start writing again and then I just don't? Grrr. Although the one day last week that I did get to write I got myself unstuck from a scene that was going nowhere, so that was encouraging. So close to finishing this chapter, and then I get to edit! I've never been excited about editing before, but this time I am. I think editing makes me feel like a Real Live Writer, even more than writing does--because anyone can write, right? It's the people who are willing to take time to comb through what they've written and redo it and analyze it and scrutinize it that are writers. Or something. I don't know, just kinda pulling that outta my imagination, really. :)
I started weaning Abby four nights ago. I'm shocked to be able to say it's actually working. Every night she's gone longer and longer without nursing--last night she slept for two four-hour stretches and only nursed once! Long may it last.
It's been forever since I blogged--and forever since I did anything remotely connected to writing or studying. Why is it I keep thinking I'm finally going to get to start writing again and then I just don't? Grrr. Although the one day last week that I did get to write I got myself unstuck from a scene that was going nowhere, so that was encouraging. So close to finishing this chapter, and then I get to edit! I've never been excited about editing before, but this time I am. I think editing makes me feel like a Real Live Writer, even more than writing does--because anyone can write, right? It's the people who are willing to take time to comb through what they've written and redo it and analyze it and scrutinize it that are writers. Or something. I don't know, just kinda pulling that outta my imagination, really. :)
I started weaning Abby four nights ago. I'm shocked to be able to say it's actually working. Every night she's gone longer and longer without nursing--last night she slept for two four-hour stretches and only nursed once! Long may it last.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
