Ellie Highlights

Four months old in her jumper; she loved this thing.

Her arm often got stuck like this.

Jack "helping" me get Ellie ready for church.

These are Ellie's first experiences trying baby cereal...she loved to rub it into her toes!

Ellie and Nathan (Simeon's little brother)

I love catching her when she's asleep...

First piece of watermelon from Uncle Jonathan (i.e. "Toto," Jack's nickname for him)

Ah, the days before crawling. Look at her feet; she would cross them and push one off the other, as if it would somehow propel her forward.

Playing with Allie on the kitchen set

What, Mom? I like trucks.

Although I really like it when I squeeze this thing and it makes noise.

She somehow got this plastic bin onto her head, and then couldn't get it off, so she just kept playing with it on her head. I couldn't resist snapping a picture...

Bedtime snuggles with Daddy. (Look at those chubby legs!)

Before church a few weeks ago. Her first time in "real" big girl shoes. She loved it. So did mommy.

Elisabeth Kate ~ 8 months

I'm Eight Months Old...

...and I'm all girl!

Recent Shots

Catching Up, What Might Have Been, and a Shout Out to Mom and Dad

For those of you who have been wondering just what happened to our family, we have simply been on vacation. Although "simply" is not quite the best word to describe it:

All of this for four people, for ten days, and you can't even see me, with another diaper bag, camera, and Ellie strapped to my back! Yeah. Ridiculous.

We have just spent the last couple weeks in Colorado visiting friends and family. Many of you know that I lived there when I was little; my dad taught at the Aspen School of Music and so we lived there every summer until I was eight or nine. It always feels like home to me when we go back. It even smells strangely familiar. We had a great time and I will soon (well maybe not soon... Someday?) post pictures from our trip and give riveting accounts of all our travels and travails. First I have to trudge through all eight hundred pictures that I took (I'm not kidding) and find the ones where my kids are smiling and are not just blurred images streaking across the frame. Stay tuned.

I know it's been awhile since I have written or posted anything on our blog--almost a month, I think. Even though you haven't seen anything, I have been compiling long lists in my head of posts that I would like to write. Now, no fair poking fun as I know other bloggers have been known to do this as well (Katie, Emily). But as my list grew and grew I faced reality that I would not ever possibly be able to post them all, let alone write them all. So instead I thought I would just share my ideas, just for my own sanity, and then if you are terribly curious about any one potential post, drop me a comment...

Posts I Wanted to Write, in no particular order:

--Parenting 101: To Spank or Not to Spank? (Because Jack had his first spanking this week, and the worst part was that after wavering back and forth for almost an hour and crying about the prospect--us, not Jack--when it finally came down to taking off his diaper for the swat...he had a poop. They don't give advice about that in the books.)

--Updates on Jack and Ellie at 2 years and 8 months

--All the things I've learned to do one-handed since I've become a mom (It would surprise you!)

--General Mommyhood (I always can think of posts to write about mom-things, as I'm sure you're all aware, but there are just days...days when I things happen and I think to myself, "Now this, this, is so unbelievable that it surely deserves its own blog entry!" And then somehow, whatever momentous event garnered such thoughts is topped by something else the next day (or later in the same day) and I somehow end up forgetting about so many of the wild things that happen to me as a mom. Maybe it's just as well...I'm not sure I would have any more kids if I remembered every single hard parenting moment!)

--Why in the world we needed THAT MUCH luggage on our trip

--My favorite smells (motivated by our time in the mountains, and all the smells of the outdoors...campfires, musty tents and sleeping bags, the flowers and forests, the ground after it rains, my grandmother's vegetable soup cooking in the crock pot, my babies' heads after their baths, fresh flowers in my dining room...well, I could go on and on but that would defeat the purpose of this list!)

--What am I going to do with so many pictures of my kids? (I think I have more pictures of Ellie in her short eight months than my parents have of me in my twenty-seven years of life. I had originally thought that if I could just make one album per year for each child, I'd be satisfied. But you tell me: what eighteen-year-old college-bound kid wants to be handed eighteen picture albums?? I think I have a problem. I am a self-confessed picture pack-rat.)

--How much I love NBC's "The Office" and why

--All the things I would talk about with Katie, Kim, Julie, and SK (my friends who live so far away...) if we were able to go out for coffee together. If we got through all of my topic ideas we'd be there for at least five hours. But wouldn't it be such a good conversation? Someday.

--How I feel about the fact that this fall will be my five year college reunion.

--How I feel about the fact that next fall will be my ten year high school reunion. (What!?!!)

--Church, and things related. (Am feeling a bit ambivalent about church things these days, as our pastor just left and things are in a bit of upheaval. It's a hard time.)

--Airport security (we've got quite a story from our return trip from the Denver Airport...)

--All the other blogs I've thought about starting, focusing on issues that are of interest/are important in my life that I think might be of interest/be important to other people.

I know there are more blog-worthy-ideas that I've had floating around in my head but for now that's all I can remember.

In closing, I debated whether or not to share this with you, Blogland, in full length feature or just to add it to the list, as it's not exactly a topic that my dad would think "classy" or "dignified" to talk about openly. So bear with me...I think it will be redeeming in the end...

Our vacation began and ended with illness. The night before we left for the Rockies, Jack came down with a 104-degree fever. He was burning up on the plane, and we spent the first few days with a very cranky, very hot little boy. No one slept well, as the kids took turns waking each other up, and we all struggled a bit with the difference in altitude (causing very dry throats, noses, and chapped lips). Jack finally recovered just in time for our large family camping trip, thank goodness!

The day after we returned back home, however, his temperature soared back up and he came down with a stomach virus. The doctor said it was "highly contagious" and we'd better brace ourselves for the worst. (Thankfully, no one else has gotten it yet!) So I spent the first few days after our return from vacation scrubbing vomit out of the carpet, the couch cushions, Jack's clothes, my clothes, Eric's clothes, the bathmats, bedsheets, toys, Jack's blankie, and on and on. Don't get me wrong--I felt horrible for poor little Jack--he was just miserable.

The thing is, vacations are supposed to be refreshing. They are supposed to be a break from your work, a time to relax, a time to do something that you enjoy, a time to see the world, to be in a different environment and try new foods, a time for adventure or just pure leisure. You are, generally speaking, supposed to return from "vacation" feeling refreshed, reenergized, ready to take on the world, gas tank on "full," ready to return to work with pizazz, enthusiasm, and a nice tan.

However. When you have two little children under the age of two...you return from "vacation" worn out, depleted of energy, running on "empty," in desperate need of a "break" from your kids and family...I felt like going for a day at the spa when I got home last week! (Okay. The alternate personality of Annika who is rich and famous felt like going for a spa day. It never occurred to the real me, as I have never even been to a spa so I don't even really know what that means. But I digress.)

I don't mean to complain about the vacation, either, because as you will soon (someday?) find out I loved being in Colorado and I had such a great time with my friend Becca (from high school) and Laura (from Wheaton) and seeing all my cousins and aunts and uncles, and hanging out with my parents and Marika (and my nephew-to-be), Jonathan, and Mikaila ...and the mountains...just drinking in the beauty and the nature and the memories, and did I mention the smells? The sounds of the rushing rivers and the excitement of neighborhood streets that were hilly and watching my kids run through the very same fountains in Aspen that I played in as a child... It was fabulous.

But it was also exhausting. Dragging portable cribs and booster seats and four diaper bags and large Nikon camera bags and jars of baby food and trying to keep bibs and spoons clean and accounted for at the campsite and keeping sun lotion and bug spray on my little buggers (Eric too) and figuring out naps and bedtime and nursing in public and on the road...it was not easy, friends. It was hard.

On the plane trip home, in between changing Jack's diaper on the seat (because there were no baby-changing stations on the entire plane) and trying to keep them from kicking the seat of the woman in front of us, who repeatedly asked us if we could keep our babies from kicking her seat...I sat there dreaming of being home, of being in a place that was familiar to my little family unit, of getting our laundry done and put in drawers, of enjoying our new apartment, of sleeping in my own bed, of putting my kids in the same bed for every nap and bedtime...ahhh, coming home was going to be refreshing and relaxing for me!

Not so, not so! Instead, the mountainous piles of laundry doubled, the icky smells of worn-for-three-days-without-showering-while-camping clothing were mixed with I've-been-barfed-on-three-times-today shirts and pants. And sleeping in my own bed? Well, I laid in my own bed; I haven't gotten much sleep.

Finally by Saturday the vomiting episodes had passed, and Jack seemed to be doing better. He has been a bit lethargic, still, and seems feverish every now and then. But it seemed the worst was over. How very wrong I was. Jack's pediatrician had warned us of another side effect of the stomach virus that I mistakenly thought we had escaped...the big D.

But here brings my debate: which would I prefer less? The sight, smell, and feel of vomit as I hand-pick it off the floor or the sight, smell, and feel of (sorry Dad) diarrhea as I scrub if off Jack's pants?? I don't think I have ever in my life felt so sorry for myself. I don't think I have ever been so grossed out. People. Remembering back to my blog about the Clients...how many of you have hand-washed your client's diarrhea out of their pants multiple times a day? COME. ON.

I know, I know this is bordering on inappropriate--but stay with me here...

So as I am standing there, scrubbing, trying hard not to gag and fighting back tears of self-pity and reminding myself what a thankless job motherhood can be...it suddenly hits me that life has come full circle. I KNOW that my mom and dad probably did the same for me. I am sure that they also were disgusted and grossed out, and felt unappreciated and unnoticed. I actually have one memory from when I was quite little when I woke up in the middle of the night with a mess in my bed; I called out for my parents and they rushed in, cleaned me up and voila, I had clean sheets and new pajamas and not another word was spoken about the incident.

I tell you, there are some very definite times in my life when I have been overcome with thankfulness and an acute realization of all my parents have done for me. The first time was when I went off to college and actually noticed their lack of presence in my life; I also remember thinking way too many times, "Oh. Wow. I guess my parents were right about that after all." But I cannot even begin to count the times I have experienced this since I have become a mom.

Before we left for our vacation I worked frantically to get my house perfectly clean so that we would return from our trip to a nice, clean home...and in doing so I suddenly understood my mom, who would stay up all night if she had to in order to get our house perfectly clean before we took off for the mountains. I've also developed a bit of rough skin on my finger tips from scrubbing stains out of my kids clothes so often; many times, mid-scrub, I've been struck with a vision of my mom doing the exact same thing with my clothes, and then in that moment I understand the roughness that her fingers often displayed. When we went through our recent spanking quandary, I found myself finally fully understanding my parents' cry of, "I'm doing this because I love you!" before I received my swats as a child. I also somehow knew, without even asking, that it must have pained them that first time they spanked me, and I felt this odd, grown-up-but-still-a-child compassion and thankfulness, all rolled into one.

I love my parents. I know they worked hard to raise me and my sister, and that they fought hard battles against the societal norms of popular parenting, against pig-headed peers of ours who thought they knew better than any parents, against other parents who were much more permissive (and in my opinion, walked-all-over) and who taunted them for being so strict.

I've recently been reading books on discipline and spanking and toddlers and the terrible twos...and the one theme that keeps coming back is disciplining with love. That is, loving your child until it hurts, but also standing firm and demanding respect as the parent and disciplining them for outright disrespect and disobedience because you love your child so much and because you know it's best for them. The book I'm currently reading talks about how children test boundaries because they want to know that you have earned your place as the authority, that you are worthy of being their leader, that you have what it takes to protect them, to provide a safe and stable environment for them, that you are trustworthy. That in the end children with parents who discipline well (who find that seemingly impossible balance between authoritarian and permissive parenting) feel very secure and loved and have great respect for their parents.

I know my parents weren't perfect, but I think they did a pretty darn-good job. Thanks for all you put up with, Mom and Dad, and for sticking it out, for standing your ground, for spanking me when I deserved it, for smacking me the time I sassed Mom at the dinner table, for scrubbing all my clothes until your hands were raw, for all the diapers that I never said, "Thank you" for changing, for grounding me when I lied to you, for making me pay you a quarter every time I forgot to put my seat belt on in the car, for saying, "No" to so many movies that I now know you were right about, for saying "No" to immodest prom dresses -- Dad (you made me feel so cherished and full of worth), for staying up into the wee hours of the morning just to make sure all your chicks were back in the nest -- Mom (you made me feel so loved), and for so many more things that I'm sure I don't remember but I know required an ultimate test of patience, will, sacrifice, blood, sweat, and tears.

Is there any way to possibly do justice by saying thank you for all you have done? Does it help you to know that I am beginning to understand what you did for me? That these diarrhea- and vomit-laden experiences are making me realize how hard you worked, how much you sacrificed, how much you loved? Well, I hope so.

What an odd post this been. I have spent two days attacking it, so I fear it lacks cohesiveness. This sleep-deprived mind is too exhausted to do a good editing job so I apologize in advance. I look forward to sharing our trip stories and pictures with you all as soon as I have time. If you are of the praying type, please keep little Jack in your prayers for full recovery, and perhaps you could say a prayer for me and Eric as well, for some rejuvenation? We're pretty worn down these days. Thank you, praying friends...

Milestones

Today marks five years of marriage for Eric and me. As everyone says, I can't believe it's been that long already! But how thankful I am to still be walking beside my best friend, my best encourager, my beloved. It would not be right, however, to celebrate this day without giving glory to the Lord for holding our marriage together. It is not because of our hard work, or how well we've done this marriage thing. It's because of Jesus, and how well He does this redeeming and restoring thing. I came across this quote by Beth Moore, one of my favorite people in the whole world (besides my husband, of course!); it seemed to say what my heart has been thinking much more exquisitely than I could have hoped to articulate myself:

"The beauty of finding yourself at a milestone of any meaningful kind in life is not that the journey there was so pretty. Or so successful. In many ways, the mysterious beauty of the whole thing is that the 'getting there' was so awkward, wobbly, inconsistent, and even down-right messy that most of the time, you thought you'd never make it. What makes life on this frightful sod so exquisite is God's merciful propensity to perform divine tasks amid deeply flawed people. To paint intricate colors on a torn-up canvass. We can recognize a miracle when we see one because we know that, for God to use us, redeem us, or complete one stinkin' thing of value in us, it would have taken nothing less. That's what He calls getting the glory."

Our marriage is five years strong, thanks to God's power, love, mercy, grace, and faithfulness. May the next five years be ones of believing and trusting Him, growing in our understanding of relationship with one another and with Him, and experiencing the great joy, peace, and wisdom He promises us as we seek Him together!

P.S. I KNOW I POSTED THIS PICTURE ON OUR LAST ANNIVERSARY, BUT IT'S THE ONLY ONE I HAVE IN THE COMPUTER!

Welcome Summer

Update on Eric

Thank you to all of you who have been praying for Eric's recovery this past week. He has been to about nine doctor's appointments in the past week and a half, and has put so many drops in his eyes that I stopped trying to calculate them. The good news is that today the doctor said Eric's eye has healed enough to start the steroid eye drops, which will help to start reducing the scar tissue. We have yet to see (literally!) how much tissue will remain, and how much it affects Eric's vision. The doctor told us a few days ago that Eric has weeks of recovery ahead of him. We are just thankful that the infection seems to finally be healing, and that he doesn't have to take his eye drops every half hour now. We were really struggling with getting such short spurts of sleep.

We called Eric's mom last Tuesday and begged her to come down on Wednesday to help out. She arrived around noon on Wednesday, and I have never been so thankful for her!! She has kept our house spotless, kept my kids in clean, dry diapers and clothes, scrubbed my new floors and oven, cleaned out the laundry room after it flooded the other day (my fault--don't worry Hannah and Ben--just overflowed the utility sink but my mother-in-law scrubbed underneath the washer and dryer with Clorox so it's all nice and mildew-free!). She's also done all of our laundry--twice--this week, as well as cooked her famous tacos, dusted all my picture frames and mirrors, and best of all--entertained my kids so I could take Eric to his appointments, go to the grocery store, and do some organizing from all the moving chaos. The kids have loved having her here...I think we are all wondering how we will survive once she leaves... Thank you so much Annie/Mom/Nana!

That's the current update. Hopefully the recovery won't be news-worthy (i.e. that Eric won't need surgery), but we'll let you know! We appreciate your continued prayers for healing, for wisdom, and for strength and patience for all four of us during the healing period.

Family Prayer Needed

This past weekend Eric developed a fairly serious eye infection. He woke up Saturday morning unable to open his right eye. We went to the doctor and they diagnosed a corneal ulcer. He was in incredible pain, and very sensitive to light. We were given eye drops and told to return on Sunday. The infection had worsened on Sunday, so they did a culture swab of the infection in order to test the bacteria that had infected the eye. We are still waiting for those results. This doctor prescribed heavy-duty (and costly) eye drops to be administered every thirty minutes. So we now have kitchen timers going off at all times of the day, including through the night! Monday he went to see a cornea specialist. He couldn't even read any of the letters on the vision test with his right eye. She explained that an infection like this, while it can be treated and will heal, always leaves scar tissue behind. Unfortunately the infection is in the middle of his line of sight, so we will have to wait to see how much scar tissue is left in order to know how much his vision is affected. It's a bad infection, and if there is too much tissue and not much vision, in a worst-case scenario he would have to have a cornea transplant, as in, have someone else's cornea put in his eye!

We're a little scared and quite shocked by all this, as it came on so suddenly. We are still not fully organized in our new place, so things are in a bit of upheaveal. Eric's mom is coming down from Michigan tomorrow to help me out with the kids, caring for Eric, and keeping our little household running, which I am so thankful for. My parents have been watching the kids, driving Eric to appointments, and bringing us meals, which has been amazing and we are also grateful for them. My sister and Jonathan are here and have also been watching the kids for us so we can go to the doctor. Eric's dad will be visiting in a week and a half, so we feel well-cared for and are so thankful for family at times like this. We covet your prayers for full-healing of Eric's eye, and for sustaining grace and strength for both of us as we feel deliriously tired and worn out. Thank you!

I have many posts brewing in my mind...about Jack as a two-year-old, Ellie as a six-month-old, pictures from Jack's 2nd birthday party, Easter, Ellie's baptism...I know it's been awhile. Many of these pictures are still on the camera! Things have been a little crazy with our move; we were without internet for almost two weeks! Imagine that. When life calms down a bit I hope to play a little blog-catch up, but for now just wanted to ask for your prayers.

The Goodness of Motherhood

You know those days when everything goes right—when you get everything done on your to-do list, when someone lets you turn in front of them in traffic out of the goodness of their hearts, when you get the job you applied for, when—at the end of the day—with a comfortably full stomach you sit down in a clean living room (with a cleaned-up kitchen one room over) with a cup of tea next to an open window, watching the sunset and listening to the final bird songs floating in? Those are good days. That heart-satisfaction, or peace within, that reminds you that things will be okay, life is not so bad, that you are actually happy to be where you are right at that moment.

That’s how I feel right now.

Although, I must say, it wasn’t exactly an “everything-goes-right” day. Jack, Ellie, and I are all sick; poor Ellie has it the worst, with a bad ear infection and subsequent yeast infection from the antibiotics. Which means she’s up for hours on end at night, crying and fussing, either at her sore ears, throat, or horrible diaper rash (that actually started to bleed tonight). She’s cried so much this week that she’s actually gone hoarse! Today she was so miserable that when she wasn’t sleeping she only wanted to be held and/or fed by me. That always makes for an exhausting day. Add to the mix that Eric has been working crazy overtime shifts this weekend (i.e. gone ALL day until 11pm) due to graduation at the college, so it’s been me, solo, with the kids for the past few days. Then add in that we just moved, so I cannot find anything I need when I need it, and everything is in disarray. Tonight I tried to make dinner, which took me two hours because I had to alternate holding Ellie, letting Ellie cry and scream while I attended to Jack’s dinner, holding Ellie, letting Ellie scream while I cut up vegetables, putting Ellie in the backpack carrier while I cut up more vegetables, only to have my hair yanked and pulled on (to which I kept yelling, “OUCH!” which coincidentally happens to be Jack’s newest word…so every time I yelled “ouch” he would laugh hysterically and then yell, “Oussss!”)…

Since we’re in our new kitchen it takes me about four tries until I get the right cabinet or drawer to find whatever I’m looking for; yesterday at lunch I burned two different meals because I couldn’t figure out which knob went to which burner, nor could I get my hands on a utensil to STIR the burning food. I ended up in tears and settled for Cup O’ Noodles (Sorry, honey!).

I didn’t burn anything tonight, thankfully, but instead knocked over a precious bottle of dried rosemary, my favorite herb, and lost about half of it down the kitchen sink as I was hurrying to finish chopping carrots, catch Jack before he wiped his squash-covered hands all down his shirt, and once again rescue my miserable daughter from her diaper torture. When Eric walked in the door I was on the floor in the kitchen cleaning a smooshed strawberry out of the kitchen carpet, because for some reason, after our salad was all prepared, I decided it would be nice to have strawberries on our salad tonight.

The reason I’m expelling all of this is not from a need to vent, as was my last post. Rather, it is so that you will better understand the depth of what I’m about to share. Tonight after dinner, after Ellie was finally in bed, Jack was sitting with just his diaper on, playing with his toys, when all of a sudden he noticed that Eric and I were watching him. He giggled, and I swear it was the most precious sound I’ve heard in a long time. We then took turns chasing him up and down the hallway, pretending that we had almost caught him by reaching out and poking him in the bare shoulder or leg as he ran, which only spurned his glee and excitement. Oh, the laughter! We hid around corners, popped out yelling, “AHHHH!” in our scariest voices, tackled and tickled each other. Throughout it all Jack just giggled uncontrollably. I’m sure that every parent cherishes the sound of THEIR child’s laugh; but I personally think my son has an especially precious and contagious laugh. I cannot HELP but smile or laugh when I hear him going on, and just the sound alone is enough to completely erase all the hard events from earlier in the day. Whoever said that laughter is the best medicine…well, I certainly wouldn’t underestimate that theory. I feel energized, uplifted, and I find myself walking around with a smile on my face, even now that bedtime has come and gone and both kids are now quietly sleeping.

How I love my children. Perhaps it is the way he makes me laugh. Or how tonight we discovered his library books laid out in the floor in a row, from smallest to largest. Maybe it is her smile, or dimples, or the way she greets me so excitedly with flailing arms and kicking legs when I come to get her from her nap. Maybe it is the way he’s learning his letter sounds, and how when we’re driving I hear him behind me in his car seat going, “Tuh tuh tuh. Wuh wuh wuh” as he sees various letters on signs. Sometimes it’s watching the two of them interact, and the fact that the person she laughs the most for (or at) is her older brother. Other times it’s the smell of her skin as she snuggles under my chin. Some days it’s in spite of the crying. Other days, it’s because of the crying, because I know that he or she is in pain, or is hurt, or doesn’t understand and I just want to make it better. Whatever it is…whatever the mystery that makes a mother’s love so profound and unexplainable…it’s there. And it grows every day. Even on the not-so-great days.

So tonight I felt I had to share (since all of you begged so nicely for the “Benefits” of my job!) so that maybe you can understand, those of you out there in blogland who so kindly keep up with our family life, that the joy in our children is so much more powerful than the tantrums, and the daunting multi-tasking (that I always feel I’m failing at) of stay-at-home-mom-hood, the poop-explosions and long nights without sleep. There’s something about their joy and laughter that just makes it all worth it.

I imagine it was meant to be this way, as the relationship of parent-child is an image of our relationship with God. For, can you imagine Him even wanting us in His world, with all the tantrums we throw and complexities we get ourselves tangled in? How many times has He come and cleaned up OUR messes, soothed OUR hurts, held US as we cried through the night? Thankfully, He is not made in my image; therefore a night without sleep doesn’t change who He is or how He cares for me. He does not lose patience so easily and has an enduring, unfailing love that I can’t begin to understand, let alone emulate. When I think on my experience with Jack tonight, and how much his pure, innocent joy made my heart swell, I can’t help but wonder at the swelling of His heart when I rejoice and enjoy what He has blessed me with in this life, rather than whining and complaining about the hardship of it all.

So, to those of you that I worry I scared away from motherhood with my last post about my life as a mom…let me reassure you that while it is hard, while there are days you just wish you could quit, while you do feel alone and stressed and exhausted much of the time…it is a BLESSING to be able to know this joy, to be able to experience this relationship, to be the recipient of your child’s love and adoration. In all honesty, at the same time that this is one of the hardest times of my life, it’s somehow also the best part so far. And I am assured by others who have gone before me that it does get better eventually…that someday I won’t feel so unlovely-smelling, completely disorganized, and delirious from sleep-deprivation day after day. If we can get through this season in one piece, and then make it through the teenage years (gulp!) with a bit of grace and a lot of humility…then this motherhood thing will surely be one of the best things I’ve done in my life!

And tonight, well, tonight I am encouraged. I know things will be alright. Life is not so bad. And believe it or not…I am actually happy to be where I am right at this moment.