February 15, 2012


There are so many things that I am struggling to tell you about, with respect to Hayley and her mother. Bear with me as I try to muddle my way through the best and most polite wording. This is MY blog and intend to use it. I just... want to do so appropriately. 

I can tell you that this past weekend, Hayley arrived to our house for our weekend with new pants. In her actual pants size. Hayley is not a small fry - she's going to grow up into a tall and statuesque woman. Societal standards say that a 7 year old shouldn't wear a size 12, but she does. So this weekend she arrived with pants and a request from her mom: that I hem those pants up for her. Why of course I will. Nevermind all of the drama. Nevermind the nasty texting and the horrible insecurities. Nevermind that we do not speak every Saturday when we sit 36" apart. I smile and Bryon protects. I constantly CHOOSE to nevermind these things for my stepdaughter's sake. And this was a big deal. I hemmed those jeans on Sunday, when I was purely exhausted from life but also purely happy that I could do something to extend an olive branch to the woman who gave birth to my stepdaughter.

Because work has been so crazy, Husband and I thought it best to reschedule our formal Valentines celebrations for a night when he didn't have to work late and I wasn't ready to shoot rayguns of death from my eyes. We discussed for days because I know myself well enough to know I would be disappointed if there wasn't a plan and the holiday arrived with total lack of pomp. And also? I am direct, yo. He agreed. But - in a twist of Jesus fate, my love cut out of work at 'normal' time on Valentine's night. We drove separately and while on the way home, he called and offered to do the following:
- relieve me of any need to cook that night
- pick up carry out for the kids
- stop and pick up Mabel so that he could feel her while I:
- picked up SUSHI carryout for us (his idea. no, seriously!)
Then he met me right there in the dry cleaner parking lot to get the Moo so I had some quiet time. I had 20 minutes to kill until our dinner was ready so I did the following:
- listened to KLOVE and prayed
- picked up his dry cleaning
- stopped and picked up a picture of Andy for one of the large frames on our gallery wall, as well as dishwashing detergent and frozen pancakes if you must know
- waited for the chefs to finish Tokyo roll, Tiger roll, Green Dragon roll, spicy tuna, and shrimp maki...
When I arrived home, the children had eaten and were playing quietly downstairs. The lights were low, the music was on, and he'd played bartender. I got the sushi out and we sat at the kitchen island on our industrial stools (which he now loves). One bite of maki at a time, we decompressed about our week. Boy howdy, IT WAS VALENTINE'S DAY! He really did suggest the sushi. And I really did make him eat eel (which he liked). It was truly loverly.

Did I already tell you people that Hayley completed a handstand into front flip? She did. We were proud!

Yesterday, I gave a coworker a ride to work because he had car trouble and Bryon had to be at work too early for those of us who are not weirdos. When Jon got into the car, Mabel introduced herself. She said, "I am Mabel and we are singing about Jesus. Welcome to the car!" She and Jon got on quite well and jibber jabbered all the way to work. Bet he never asks for a ride again.

We need a vacation. We need a HONEYMOON. Our anniversary is only 11 days away!!!

Lots of changes going on in the workplace that I cannot go into detail here. Please pray for both of us.

The other day Moo Rae and I had to make a stop at Target for a few things. She was wearing glorified pajamas with a tutu and hairband, which was holding her not-so-curly-anymore hair away from her face. On top was her pink and blue fairisle pompom hat. She was holding my hand but after a few steps toward the store, I noticed she was lagging behind a little. It was breezy outside and we were walking right across traffic, so I wanted to hurry. I looked back at my little daughter. Her hand was firmly gripped in mine and she was stepping along with me. But her eyes were closed. Just calmly closed. When I asked her why she said, "I'm just resting them, Mom. I know you'll walk me in." How beautiful that trust is! How we need to have that exact same trust in our Lord Jesus Christ!

Lulu sent me a yummy recipe for taco soup to try. I obtained all of the ingredients in a rush of meal planning one week (I'll get back to that, I swear I will!), but did not make the soup. I can't remember why that was, but I think my mother in law stopped over and we became distracted with life and white wine. Or something. I want to make this soon! Anyone else have a recipe? I bet they are all very similar; it looks so delicious!

One day in 2006, my friend and I stopped at the parlor by my house. The big 2548 house. It was the year before Mabel was born and just after I'd had a very traumatic 2nd trimester miscarriage. It was a weekend, I remember. She had a piercing guy whom I visited and paid $16 to poke a hole in my right nostril, all official-like. Oh yes, I did. We spent the better part of the next hour looking for a micro ring, unsuccessfully. I suppose that detail isn't integral to the story, but... I'm sad I didn't find one. When I arrived home plus one more orifice, Shoes was not happy with me. At all. We lived in a very large, very respectable home in a very affluent neighborhood where he had a very big and expensive John Deere riding lawnmower and landscaping he didn't have time to manicure; how on earth could I even for one second think that piercing my nose was a good idea? He told me I looked like a trailer park wh-re. Which is doubly offensive, because I've lived in a trailer park - WITH HIM. Still not what you tell your spouse ever. No matter how I set my feelings aside, willing away tears, I could not convince him to see anything fun about my nose hole. Or the teeny and cute sparkly diamond stud sitting in it. And so, before bedtime, I took it out. I never put it in again and I wasted those $16. Worse yet, I never really got to wear it out of the house (having it for a whopping 5 hours), know what it was like to have, or experience any part of that fun. I feel sort of robbed. I got over it. But there you are.

Did any of you click on the vicious Facebook link that showed what components actually go into McDonald's chicken nuggets? I did some more hunting around the interwebs and this claim was legitimate. And DISGUSTING. Even the burgers had chemicals (and I ADORE their cheeseburgers, no onion please) up until this past year. Ick. But the nuggets - oh, the nuggets. Those did me in, Friends. I can't bring myself to order them anymore, or to allow the kiddos to order them either. It's worse than chicken lips and toes! In fact, I think it's worse than old fashioned hot dogs!

ETA: Please pray for Shoes just now. I may drive 12 hours to wring his neck soon. Little hearts are on the line and I am sick to death of the high road! AHEM.


  1. Praying for you and all that is going on with your family. Thank you for sharing so openly so that we can support you in prayer and share lifee from all corners of the world.

  2. praying for you all. on all fronts.