It's Easter Morning! 

Reading a book in the rocking chair 

Easter-day Horsy Ride 

I put 'em in here? 

Easter Egg Hunt! 

She likes table legs--just like her Mama. 

Easter Dress (and silly face) 

Officially Back

Yes, internet world, we are back.

As an update--the road trip was long and full of mountains. We took a new route to avoid one mountain pass that we were concerned was snowy. So... instead we drove in some very mountainy mountains for four days instead of just 1.5. Not as bad as I thought it would be. I am officially not a flatland driver. Oh, if Mr. Sandborg (isn't that our old Driver's Ed teachers name first-homers?) could see me now.

The house is great. Dad and I unpacked the important things in record time. For an AARP member and the mother of a toddler I think we're pretty darned impressive. We had four days before Andy got home and nearly everything that makes a house housish was moved in before he got here.

And then, Andy got home. He requested a welcome home meal of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup and macaroni and cheese. The boat actually beat his want of steak out of him. Poor guy. He got his wish, and we got Daddy back. Carolyn and he picked up right away. Now Carolyn can't get enough of Daddy. And oh by the way--she says, "Daddy" every single stinkin day. I've still yet to get a "Mama" out of her. Well, maybe once. But it's debatable.

In the meantime, we've been tiptoeing through tulips, getting lost in state parks (that deserves it's very own blog entry with pictures and narration), Andy has been working way too many hours, and Carolyn has been walking and dancing and growing and having fun being a one-year old.

So here we are. Andy is on leave for a few days, and we have big plans... to stay put.

And thus ends the official we're back update.

We took a Tiptoe through the tulips 

Cool gnarly Tree 

On the Move! 

A Family Pose 

Learning to color 

Look what I drew! 

Pure cuteness 

Now Featuring a Toothy Grin.  

Grilled Cheese Sandwiches--The Welcome Home Meal of Champions! 

Carolyn and Daddy getting Re-acquainted 

FYI

Friday kidlet and me, along with "Pa-pa"--caravanning in his mini-van are going to again cross the western 2/3s of the country to go HOME. Home is such a sweet word. In less than a couple of weeks we'll be back in my husband's arms again, unpacking, and arranging our new house.

If you are one who prays, please pray for us. The journey is long and we're all weary.... And reunions are joyful, but anxiety-laden.

When we have internet access again (please God, let it be high-speed), I'll be back.

4 things Meme

After seeing it enough places, I decided to do this one. Here goes:

Four jobs I've had
1. "Personal assistant"/Caregiver/Babysitter for DORS
2. The girl who sits in the computer lab that no one uses and gets paid for it.
3. Bakery Wench at Renaissance Faire
4. Special Ed. Teacher.

Four movies I would watch over and over again
1. Saved
2. When Harry Met Sally
3. The Princess Bride
4. Mrs. Winterbourne

Four places I've lived
1. Podunk IL town #1
2. Podunk IL town #2
3. Panhandle Land Floridia
4. Northwest

Four TV shows I watch
1. The West Wing (I prefer the first four seasons when the show still had good writers)
2. Felicity
3. Grey's Anatomy
4. Judging Amy

Four places I've vacationed
1. The Outer Banks, NC
2. Dauphin Island, AL
3. Kenai, AL
4. Lewistown, Idaho

Four websites I visit daily
1. Here
2. Household Six--military spouse site
3. Lung Cancer Support Community
4. Cher's Blog. ;)

Four of my favorite foods
1. White Chocolate
2. Dark Chocolate
3. Milk Chocolate
4. Chocolate and Peanut Butter.

Four places I'd like to be right now
1. Hugging my husband
2. Sitting next to my husband
3. On a date with my husband
4. On the floor playing with Carolyn and my husband

Ok. Tag you're it.

Why I Hate Shopping

For the last three days I've done something rather uncharacteristic of me: I went shopping.

The thing is, I hate shopping. And really all three days reinforced that fact. Strike that. The first day wasn't so bad--Little can go wrong when you only need cat food, granola bars, diapers, hamburger meat, and a few other odds and ends AND you are blessed with a "kid-free" trip to boot (thank you Pa-pa!). Although, I did need to visit three different stores to fulfill all of my shopping needs--partly due to Chestter's dietary needs. *sigh*

Day two--mall day--proved to be a typically Val shopping experience. Number one, I forgot the stroller. Have you ever mall-walked while balancing a wiggling 20 pound weight? Try it sometime. Still, this was an obstacle that would not slow me down.

I was looking for several things: 1) Sales. 2) Kidlet clothes--All of the "gifted" clothes that came at birth and special holidays are quickly running out. Turns out nobody really cares if your 12-18 month old is outfitted, since the smaller stuff is so much more fun to buy (I agree!). 3) Mommy clothes: My disjointed half in Washington/half in Illinois wardrobe has been getting on my nerves. Plus I've had moments lately of wanting to look like a girl and not like Queen Frumpy (long may she reign!).

The kidlet scored, but not as well as I'd hoped. I did manage to find a winter coat for next year, a solid red onesie, and a sweet little summer outfit. But I was going for more... Furthermore, I found myself incessently frustrated by my blindness to the 18 month clothes. Perhaps it's because it's a transitional age. Perhaps I'm just blind. Perhaps it's an unwritten rule that children should be allowed to go naked at this age. Perhaps no one told me that from 12 mos. you are just supposed to skip straight up to the reputable 2T size. I'm not sure. But I couldn't find what I thought I wanted to find on the size tags.

Mommy had some success, but not a lot. The good news is, after looking for the past five months for a pair of nice black casualish shoes, I finally found some. I was able to fit my post-pregnancy gargantuan feet into Fashion Bug's idea of a size 10. And I found exactly the style I had in mind. I spied some cute socks as well, briefly noted that they were short, but thought they would do. I continued looking for clothes clothes.

Now the problem with me is, I really just don't know how to dress. I kind of know what I would like to look like, but the stores don't seem to think that that is styling enough. I see things that I think I might like, but realize I don't know how to wear them. I see things that I do like and try them on and find that apparently I have an oddly shaped body altogether. My calves don't look right. My torso is too long... (or something), my proportions just don't seem to be *normal* enough to make shopping easy. This was the case in store after store after store.

Add to the fact any body image issue that you can imagine a woman dealing with--times 3. Really. Shopping becomes hell. I can start in a perfectly happy mood and it will plummet with all of the aforementioned difficulties plus the sneaking suspicion that people *my* size apparently don't deserve fun clothes. (And yes, damn it I AM being proactive about that facet of my life!).

And as a little note--trying things on with a busy 11 month old is always a treat. But what's a girl to do?

So I came home pleased with my shoes and cute socks. But... altogether grouchy and upset that I could find NOTHING else and Queen Frumpy would not be allowed to take a hiatus.

Day 3: Farm King. (Yes really).

Today was actually my most successful shopping day, thanks to the wonder that is Farm King. I needed my oil changed. I was advised that it was going to take 30-45 minutes. What else was I going to do while I waited? I shopped, despite my repeated lack of stroller.

I've been needing a pair of jeans, and one thing I have discovered: Farm King might not have the trendiest styles of jeans around, but they usually come through. Off I go to shop for the jeans. I pick up two pair that look doable, after the typical frustrating search, "wrong size. right style. grrr" "Right size. Wrong style. Grrr." (For the record I REFUSE to wear anything "tapered").

I went to try both pairs on and found to my delight that the "smaller" size actually fit pretty darn well. The "larger" size was a more fun style, and I thought the size was doable since I couldn't find it in the smaller size. I decided on both. I carried them around. Walked over to toys. Found a toy that wasn't exhorbitantly priced, or sillily over-rated for Carolyn. Found a book that looked fun for Carolyn. Turned a corner to beverages and saw a true wonder: JONES SODA!!!!! In many different varieties! I just had to get Jones Soda. So get some I did. This move, at least, was a good one.

Back to the clothes. I see a nice sale on jeans! Score! I pick up a pair on clearance because of a small defect. I put back one of the other pairs. I smile happily to myself that I have been so shrewd in my shopping, and they finally call my name indicating that the oil has indeed been changed in my little flamed neon.

I forgot to mention that for the entire wait and shopping experience my daughter was getting more and more fussy. During my journey to the fitting room, she felt utterly bereft when I sat her on the floor leaving her only my discarded skirt for comfort. The rest of the time, suffice it to say, there was much crying and wiggling.

So... I came home. I tried on the jeans again. Fun jeans are indeed *TOO BIG* In fact, they don't look fun at all... They just look like a pair of jeans that "Queen Frumpy" would wear. Guess I fooled myself in the fitting room. Pair #2: The sale jeans were the WRONG STYLE (tapered leg *shudder*) and TOO SHORT. Another two points to my shopping blindness and misproportioned body. They can't be taken back. I try on the socks from yesterday. The shortness is irritating.

So you see: Even those things that I do find and think I will be happy with, lead to buyers remorse. Whoever coined the phrase, "Retail Therapy" was obviously a masochist. Or... at least... wasn't ME.

So... I played with Carolyn's toy, and drank a Jone's Soda. That made me feel better.

Have I mentioned that I hate shopping?

For the record, I'm not entirely sure I'm happy with this post about shopping either. I may need to change it. We'll see.

Baby Accomplishments

So I know the world is just yearning to hear what my baby girl is up to these days.

She keeps her Mama very busy.

Typical day:

Wake up. Nurse. Diaper change. Play in the living room with toys Mom gives me. Ditch toys Mom gave me. Crawl to hallway. Pull on springy doorstop to hear flatulent noise. Crawl to cat food. Dip hand in water. Scooped up by Mom. (Dagnabit, Mom!) Crawl back to cat food. Eat cat food. Scooped up by Mom. Fingersweep by Mom. Repeat 5 times.

Plopped into high chair. Apple Wagon wheel appetizer offered. Taste Wagon Wheel. Take Wagon Wheel out of mouth. Try putting Wagon Wheel in all parts of high chair. Drop wagon wheel on floor. Breakfast served. Eat breakfast. Spit portions of breakfast at Mom. Get cleaned up after breakfast. Practice spin moves to avoid face-wiping. Get down from high chair.

Play in living room with toys Mom gave me. Ditch toys. Find Chester. Hug chester. Pull chester's tail. Hug Chester again. Try to sit on Chester. Hug Chester again. Chester runs away. Attempt to catch Chester. Fervant search for kitty under all furniture.

Crawl to Pa-pa's computer. Push power button. Hear, "No-no!" Scooped up and placed in another room. Crawl to pa-pa's computer. Press power button. Scooped up. Repeat 6 times.....

Did you really want to hear the whole day?????

Alright so her current skills: Crawling is artistically mastered. She gets full marks in both the technical and creative portions of the program. Independently standing for several seconds at a time is commonplace--usually holding a toy. Steps have been attempted (the current record is three at a time), but crawling is really just so much more efficient.

Dancing is also an enjoyable passtime. And boy is she good at it.

We hear, "Da-da" "Mom-mom" "KtttyCat!" "Chssssr" and "Pa-pa" fairly regularly.

After weeks of comments from strangers (and non-strangers) in the vein of, "Ohhh, poor thing she must be teething. Look at all that drool!" we finally have 3 teeth. Incidentally they showed up all at once.

I myself am a big fan of Carolyn hugs. They are complete with a sweet little pat on the back.

And only a month left before she turns 1. I would ask where did the time go... but this year at least, I know where it went.

And.... that's my girl.

A Snowy Adventure!

Carolyn tried out sledding last weekend. In general, she likes it--in a quiet, breathy, filled with awe kind of way.



It took a while to master actually sitting up on the sled.



Pa-pa took her for her first run down the hill.



Mama just had to get in on the fun, too!

C's First Christmas

I know I'm late getting Christmas photos up. But here they are anyway.




Are these for me?



My little Schroeder in the making. Thanks Pa-pa!



After a long day of opening presents and enjoying her first Christmas, Carolyn settled down for a long winter's nap with the Teddy Bear her daddy got for her.

Children's Museum in Kansas

During our trip to Kansas, we took the kids to a Children's Museum. To our delight there were displays especially for Carolyn-sized people. Here are a couple of photos I got there.



Playing with water is always a good pass-time.



Mmmmm.... Turtle!

A Chair is a Chair... Or Is it?

Today we got out the old kidlet-sized rocking chair that was mine when I was a baby. "Pa-pa" cleaned it up and gave it a little shine, and set it in the living room. When Carolyn and I returned home from shopping, I plopped her down on it, and she promptly settled into it. After a few moments of rocking, she was ready to find out what else she could do.

Within five minutes, she had used it as a walker--pushing it around the room to get to where she wanted to go, she peeked out from the bars on the back like she was in jail and explored the world as it appeared that way, and most notably, she used it as a ladder--pushing it up next to the gliding rocker, standing on the seat, and trying to hoist herself up onto the bigger chair--Grandpa swooped in and stopped that from happening though. (Darn it, Pa-pa!)

As I watched her I was struck with the thought that the world would be very different if we retained that innate creativity. If we walked into a room, and didn't just see chairs and desks and pencils, and computers for their given purpose, but if could see all the potential that they contained.

Babies teach good lessons, don't they?

Inbox Sweetness

I found this in my inbox today... He was in transit on the birthday day and the ones surrounding it, so it's a little late, but I don't mind at all.



*sigh* I love that man.

Coming Soon:

A return to regular life programming!

I realized at Mommy Group today that the Women's retreats that were being advertised were coming up AFTER our return to Washington! That means... Mine and C's return, and Andy's too!

Also it was finally confirmed today that we OFFICIALLY have a house to move into when we get back! It's three bedrooms/1 bath--right amount of space WITH A GARAGE, and a small yard, and for a monthly rent that we can afford! Plus it's within walking distance of my closest friend's house! I am just elated!

So... Soon and very soon I'll be back into a place where I feel like life is a little more normal. I just can't wait!

Quarter Century

A few years ago I would have said that 25 looked old. No... no... Not OLD. Not, "OH I'm so old...... old." But... adult. I would have shrunken away from the idea like I did my Ipteenth birthday (that's the one after 15 in case you are wondering).

I'm 25 today. It doesn't look old. It looks... Well it looks ok. I told my friend Ang a couple of years ago that I wanted to have a baby by the time I was 25. And... I have a beautiful baby girl now. That feels right. That feels good. I'm glad God planted that desire in my heart, and brought it to fruition.

I feel like I can stand up into 25 today. And what that means to me is, that I can stand up into the fact that I am becoming an adult. I NEVER want to lose the ability to be childlike. But I find that things that looked so "scary" in the 'grown-up' world, I am handling.

This year... This crazy year has aged me. In some ways I feel much older than I am. In others I still feel like a scared little girl.

But mostly today I just feel like me. I feel 25. I feel like I can be me. I feel like I can be here.

Only 24 more to go....

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Christmas Ruminations

So here's what I think.

I think we're all upside down about Christmas.

We spend all this time hustling and bustling and making it this huge big deal.

It's such a notably cheerful time of year, that people feel guilty when they need a refill on their cup o' Christmas cheer.

This year I learned even more about Christmas being a light in the darkness. This Christmas, I was really just feeling a lot of darkness. Grief upon grief will wear one down... missing one's husband will too.

I did'nt even want to look for the light in the darkness at times this year. That just seemed too much energy.

But... with an extra helping of grace, I was able to. I could only utter a haphazard prayer asking for slivers of light. And I found them. I found them in the hugs of my nephews and the smile of my daugher, in time with my sisters and brothers in law. In getting to know Andy's family, albeit under terrible circumstances.

And as I saw these slivers all I could think of was what a sliver of light even Christ's coming must have seemed at the time. Can you imagine? What's the big deal? Some rag-tag kid was just born in a manger of all places? Angels came to sing over this? They were hoping for a revolution here, folks!

When I picture Israel at the time of Christ's coming, I picture barrenness, dryiness, hopelessness.

And then a helpless baby comes to be the savior? Right....

But He was a sliver of light in the darkness. And as that child grew in stature and strength the sliver grew into a pillar of hope and light. And then... it seemed that it would go out... But in one triumphant sweep, what began as the sliver of light known as a helpless newborn, conquered darkness, and death (yes death!), and sin in a blaze of glory and victory.

So my prayer this Christmas, in the midst of my own darkness was that these slivers of light would grow... and that I would remember that humble beginnings of light in the darkness may turn out in suprising ways.

And above all that the joy that comes from that one triumphant blaze would be alive in me.

So I still belive it's ok to be less than cheerful at Christmas, and I think even with angels and wiseman it wasn't all hoopla that first Christmas. Most of all, I think Christ still penetrates the darkest darkness, Humbly, meekly, but completely and triumphantly.

Prayers would be good

Husband's Grandfather has had a heart attack. 2 of his major arteries are 75% blocked. He was advised that surgery would be very risky because of his age and the risk of a stroke, so they have decided to forego it. They've put him on medication to ease the pain, make him comfortable, and hopefully combat the problems to an extent. There is a chance he will recover enough to go home and continue being our fiesty Grandpa.

We're weary. Husband feels helpless being so far away. If you could pray, we would appreciate it.

I Got Tagged!!!

I am SOOO excited! I've never been tagged to do a meme before. And today Amanda tagged me! I am ridiculously excited about this. Ok. So here goes:

Seven Things Tag

Seven Things to do Before I Die:

1. Write a book
2. Get my Master's Degree
3. Go with Andy to some of the places he's been in port while being a sailing sailor (Hmmm... Rome maybe?)
4. Work successfully in a job that feels like it fits me and I fit it
5. Tip a waitress $100
6. Finish The Brothers Karamazov (I really like, it... but given I've been reading it for 2 years now I really need to get going in order to finish this goal.
7. Touch a dolphin

Seven Things I cannot Do:

1. Speak a foreign language (though... I have a rudimentarly knowledge of sign language)
2. Sew
3. Ski
4. Wiggle my ears
5. Play softball without wanting to be swallowed by a hole in the earth
6. Swim in the ocean without worrying about 'critters and itchums' (which is unfortunate because I LOVE the ocean)
7. Stop thinking... Ever...

Seven Things That Attract me to my Husband:

1. He knows how to sit and just be with me.... without an agenda but totally WITH me when I am happy or otherwise
2. His love of all things beautiful
3. The way the depth of his faith and thoughts will suprise me when I least expect it.
4. His dedication to perpetually 'wooing' me
5. The way he is with Carolyn
6. His willingness to cook and do dishes
7. He loves me... like no one else does.

Seven Things I say Most Often:

1. "No... We don't eat catfood!"
2. "Crup"
3. "Are you sure?"
4. "Oh myy..."
5. "Abba Du"
6. "A dink" (In answer to Dh's "Rink-a-dink-a-dink")
7. He/she needs a 'quit being dumb' card

Seven Books or Series I Love:

1. Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants (Anne Brashares)
2. Madeleine L'Engle's Time Trilogy
3. The World of Pooh (Milne)
4. The Ragamuffin Gospel (Brennan Manning)
5. The Lord of the Rings (Tolkien)
6. A Ring of Endless Light (L'Engle again)
7. Marvin K. Mooney Will You Please Go Now? (Seuss)

Seven Movies I would watch over and over and over and...

1. The Princess Bride
2. White Christmas (even if it's not Christmastime)
3. Shawshank Redemption
4. The Shadowlands
5. When Harry Met Sally
6. Return to Me
7. Anne of Green Gables

Seven Bloggers to Tag:

Becca, Lauren, Karen, Sarah, Tracie, Red, and Jodie!

An Open Confession and Apology

Hi. My name is Val. And I am rude. This is something that I'm only recently discovering to be such a character deficiency of mine. I always felt that I exhibited at least average manners. Apparently I was as wrong as could be.

My Mil. Spouse message board has cycled through a few topics lately about how very rude people are these days. *Waves sheepishly at my spouse board*

Apparently it is highly offensive to neglect to RSVP and even worse to be late with or to not write Thank You notes.

So... Here are where the confessions start:

Until this year I rolled my eyes at RSVPs... Especially for weddings in which I stood up as part of the wedding party. For the last wedding I attended, I was *SO* proud of myself because I had remembered to send in the RSVP. I even included a little note to the bride saying I couldn't wait to meet her (I was a friend of the groom). A week before the wedding I got a phone call from the groom's Mom wondering if I was coming. My heart sunk. I had tried so hard to be a polite person... but it hadn't gotten there. I stuttered and stammered and assured her that I had sent in the RSVP and I couldn't understand how it wasn't there.

Last week I found a small envelope with my RSVP still in it, complete with my little note. *UGH* Again I goofed.

I will also admit to being very poor at writing Thank You notes. I can't remember if I got all of the ones sent for my graduation gifts. I do remember trying. I know I still had a pile of *addresses lost and not in the phone book* Thank Yous from my wedding that I finally gave up on last year, and this year... Well this year I will tell you that I have earnestly tried to get Thank Yous out... But it's an uphill battle to get a shower and dressed each day. So... My post-birth Carolyn thank yous didn't happen, and I'm still working on those from Mom's funeral.

One of my problems with Thank You notes is that I always find generic "Thank you for the ____s" to be a tad impersonal, and I try to spice them up a bit. That takes more time, and energy, and then I find myself overwhelmed. In reaction to overwhelmedness I quit. Quitting is not conducive to completing Thank You notes. You see the problem.

There are my confessions.

Here is my apology: I'm sorry to everyone whom I have slighted with my lack of RSVP/Thank You note etiquette. I really am. It has not been my intention to be rude or thoughtless, but I realize that might have been the message I sent through my oversight.

Now here are my thoughts about manners and etiquette in general. I credit my Mom for giving them to me. But I don't blame her for my deficiencies (how many weeks after Christmas did I sit with a fat pencil in hand writing, "Dear Aunt ____ Thank you for the toy. I like it. Love, Val"?)

See... I think Manners are nice and all. And I do think they make our society a friendlier place--a more pleasant place to be.

But they are meant to do just that. They are meant to make people feel comfortable. At the point in which they stop making people feel comfortable and start making them feel inferior, out of place, or in any other way uncomfortable, they cease to be manners. I don't want to hold onto my idea of manners as some measuring stick for the kindness, worthiness, or goodness of others (and I'm *NOT* saying that those who feel strongly about RSVPs and Thank Yous are this way).

When people come into my home, I want them to know that I like them as they are. If you want to eat with your elbows on the table, I might just join you. If you belch every other moment... Well I won't join you on that one.... I try to adjust my level of mannerliness to the occasion: Formal dinner=elbows off the table, sit up straight, use proper silverware. Incidentally my palms sweat straight through such things. Living room with DH and friends: Ooops. I forgot to put my napkin on my lap and I reached across you for the garlic bread. Experiencing less sweating though!

I forget to say Please and Thank You sometimes. Sometimes I chew with my mouth open. I've been known to eat with my elbows on the table, and I'm still not entirely sure how to use all the pieces of silverware on a formally prepared table. For all of these things I again apologize.

When I am old and grey, instead of being the lady at the dinner table clearing her throat at the child who forgot to put her napkin on her lap, I want to be the feisty lady, who winks at the child and gives them a hint and later tells them, "It took me a long time to learn that one, dear. You'll remember next time!"

I want to make people feel comfortable. Not guilty.

THAT is what manners are about in my opinion.

But.... I still do apologize for those that I have prevoiusly slighted. Brandy, Lauren, Becca, Ang--I'm coming to your weddings (I was there, remember?).

And I do sincerely, fully, gratefully acknowledge all of those who have been so kind to me and my family this year in gifts and support. Your kindness DIDN'T go unnoticed. Thank you for being there (and hopefully you WILL find a note in your mailbox soon).


Confessions/Apologies/and Thoughts ended.

Fun Around the House

Such a sweet little face....



Whilst plundering the kitchen drawer, Carolyn decided she needed some coffee.



C's latest bedtime story. What can I say? She's very advanced!

Until Then We'll Have to Muddle Through Somehow

Even since I learned that the original lyrics of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" were something like, "Have yourself a merry little Christmas, It will be our last..." I've rather liked the song. (I am a little bit twisted you know). I like that Judy Garland allegedly insisted that they change the lyrics to something more hope-giving when it was originally sung in Meet Me in St. Louis.

This weekend, as the Christmas songs have been blaring over the airways more and more the song hit me anew in a fresh way. Especially the line, "Come next year, we all will be together If the Fates allow But till then we'll have to muddle through somehow So have yourself a merry little Christmas now."

I think muddling through is about all I'll be able to muster this year. I plan to muddle through with style, and grace, and spunk, and even joy, but it will be different than other Christmases in so many ways. Even different than last Christmas. Last Christmas I clung fiercely to the idea of Christmas being a light in the darkness. I'm clinging even tighter this year, because the darkness feels that much more overwhelming.

But I know the light is there. I know that Christ is our light in the darkness... So as I put up the Christmas tree, and listen to the carols, and remember special Mom memories, and miss Andy, and watch the wonder in my daughters face as she lays eyes on the Christmas tree for the first time I will hold on to that. And as I cry with tears of loneliness and missing, and wonder how I will get through my first Christmas without my mother... and how I will carry on the "Mom traditions," as I wish for Andy's arms, and real conversations with him, and long for his hand to hold, and to see the light in his eyes as he opens his gifts from Carolyn and I... Through the goods and the bads of the muddling, I will let the light shine in me, and in and through my life.

I will truly live and love this Christmas. Even if it hurts.

I will muddle through and hold onto the light. After all, I'm called to be a light-bearer myself.

So... here I go to muddle. I have lights to string on the tree and decorations to put up.

What's Up?

The first week of college in our incredibly annoying, "Connect Class" we had to take these silly tests that were supposed to help us discover what our 'potential problem areas' were going to be for our academic careers. My results essentially said that I was socially inept. My summation of the results: Get friends even though you suck at doing so.

At that point, I didn't believe I was socially inept. At that point, perhaps I wasn't.At this point, I would say that I undoubtedly am.

I CANNOT for the life of me carry a conversation of small-talk anymore. I dread it. Today in church, a guy that I went to school with approached me along with his fiance. They wanted to see Carolyn. I had no idea what to say to them.

I really hate the general chit-chatting questions: For instance, "What's up?" Or, "What is new in your life?" Somehow it doesn't feel entirely appropriate to say, "I'm grieving the loss of my mother, my husband is deployed, and I'm doing the best I can to take care of our 8 month old while living in a house that is not my own, and you?" For that matter, part of me would like to reply, "Exactly why is it that in our culture it is the norm to ask questions that we don't really want the answer to? I mean really. When is the last time you heard that question and the person asking wasn't expecting a 'Nothing really.'" Those remarks would go over about as well as a turd in a punchbowl though, don't you think (Truly one of my favorite Momisms there. ;))?

I just don't know how to answer chit-chat, and I don't know what to ask other people. Do I inquire about their jobs? Their family? Do I have time to really hear what they have to say? I just fumble and stumble. And sometimes I thrust C forward so that the focus shifts onto her. I can just smile quietly while people go on about how she is "Such a precious little baby."

I think my real problem is that my head is just so full right now, and has been for the last two years, really. Many aspects of my current experience are also very foreign to those around me. I haven't picked up a phrasebook for translating yet. Even if I did I think it might be like the episode of West Wing where it took three translators to get from English to a dignitary's Native Language. Wait.... if you're not familiar with West Wing, translation might be necessary here. Ok. I give up.

I think what I have to say is valuable and I want to discover the valuable insight of others as well. But if I have to get through chit-chat to get there, I'm in trouble.

So this is me confessing: It's true. I am socially inept. I beg your forgiveness for any social faux pas I may commit while conversing with you. And I apologize if I stand looking at you with my tongue lolling about for extended periods of time. I really do care about what you have to say. I am just anxious to get to the part where it's actually said. In the meantime, try not to say anything that would inspire me to hand you a "Quit being dumb card" and we'll get along just fine.

I'm really very approachable.

Anxiety

I will just feel so much better when he is in my arms again.... when I know where he is, and how he is, and can hold him.

And sometimes I wish I didn't have such a writer's imagination.

Happy (Belated) Halloween!

Make way for Duckling!!!





It's been a spectacular year for foliage... and ducks!



It doesn't get better than Halloween Kisses!