A long week of baby measles

Last Thursday morning Eric had a febrile seizure because his fever spiked to over 105. The doctor in the ER diagnosed him with an ear infection, but then two days later, he broke out in a rash all over his body. We took him into our pediatrician's office for a follow-up appointment this week, where he was diagnosed with roseola, or baby measles (there is no vaccine for this because children usually get over it in about a week without severe complications). On Sunday, Zoe seemed to come down with the stomach flu and had a fever, but then she has broke out in a rash too. I did a little reading on roseola, and very infrequently, some kids have stomach cramps and vomiting with it (usually it is irratibility and a high fever). The doctor didn't think Zoe would catch it, actually, because usually after 3 they aren't as susceptible to it. But she did. Two baby measles cases in our family, each with very different symptoms until the rash appeared. I felt like I was trying to solve a medical mystery all week. But it makes sense that they would both have it, rather than two unrelated viruses.

But there have been so many mercies. Number one: God had prepared me that this might happen. A few days before Eric's seizure, I got a text from a girl that I don't keep in close contact with, asking for prayer for her toddler niece that was in the ER with a high fever and who had also had a seizure. I remember thinking when I got that text, oh, that's scary, but it was probably because of the baby's temperature and not something more serious like epilepsy or a tumor. So when Eric had his seizure, I had this tremendous amount of calm. I remember processing it all very matter-of-factly: his temperature is very high, that's why he is having this. Put him on the sofa and make sure he can breathe. Nathaniel came out of the bedroom as I was shouting for him and he stared at me, wide-eyed as he saw Eric. Don't touch him, I told him. His fever is very high and that's what's happening. Go get Josh. And he's our second mercy: he's a second year medical resident, who just happens to be living upstairs for a few months. Mercy three: the kindest, most compassionate doctor in the ER, who was so gentle with Eric and so reassuring to us. In addition, zero wait time in the ER.

So, whew. We've had long days and long nights this week.

But there's been little joys, too.

Two nights ago, Zoe was still having stomach cramps and vomiting, and Nathaniel had to go teach a night class. My mother-in-love, Norelle, saved the day and came to help until bedtime. She sat with Zoe on the sofa while I took Eric and the dog for a walk. Eric is almost 20 months, and what we call our little politician. He double hand waves to everyone he sees. He loves to stand up in the shopping cart and shout a loud, enthusiastic hi, hi, hi, to everyone. He was doing this last night as I carried him in his "pack-pack". I laughed after one particularly enthusiastic greeting to our neighbor and said, you are so friendly! Are you friendly? To which he said, No. Eric, me! 

Another joy is deeper: I have been struck, again and again, during this hard week that we are so blessed to be healthy. We can deal with anything for a week. There are so many families that are going through horrible trials of sickness that last for months or years. I am grateful that our sickness has a name and that it will run its course soon. Another reminder to be thankful, for we have been given so much. In the middle of the trial, and this one was only a week-ish long, it was easy to lose perspective and think that things will never get better, will never get easier. But they do, and they did. Thank you, Lord.

Minutes adding up to beautiful

Nathaniel and I had a good long talk on Sunday, sitting on the porch swing in the unseasonable January sunshine.

Something that we started a few years ago that has made a big difference in our marriage is the Sunday check-up. We put the kids down for their nap and then we take a break. We go over what is on the schedule for that week, who needs to do what and who needs to go where, and once that is done, we just talk.

Our talk this Sunday centered around what we want the ideal of our life to be and what it actually is. My morning ideal (ideal, mind you) is everyone waking up happily, and then we traipse (yes, we traipse) into the kitchen to make pancakes from scratch. Breakfast is calm and orderly. Then, Nathaniel and I sip our hot coffee while the children run along and happily play together. We have wonderful adult conversation and laugh at each other's jokes. It's all very nice. The actuality of our mornings is cranky children that wake up very, very early with sheets that need to be changed because a diaper leaked, breakfast is cold cereal (with whatever is at the bottom of the boxes because I need to go grocery shopping) that then gets spilled on the floor. Cups of coffee have to be microwaved and then re-microwaved because there's no time to drink them in between cleaning up whatever the shrieking children spill. Attitudes are poor, all-around. The dog is licking the bottom of the high chair. Conversation consists mainly of questions to each other such as, "Why do we have two shrieking children?" No one is laughing at any jokes.

What I love about this quote from Mitch Albom is that life is made up of beautiful minutes. The hours and the days are often messy, or dreary, or just simply hard. But those beautiful minutes are what makes a life full and rich. The stage of life that Nathaniel and I are living is hard. Toddlers and babies take up so much energy. Teaching takes up energy. It never feels like we have enough minutes for anything.

Yet, in the middle of that not-so-ideal breakfast, we looked out the window at the bird feeder that Nathaniel had filled weeks ago. There at the feeder was a cardinal, with his partner waiting her turn on the fence.

A beautiful minute.

As we were getting ready for church, Zoe so sweetly helped get Eric's blanket and bottle ready for the car without asking.

A beautiful minute.

Everything in the sermon at church seemed to speak directly to what we were going through. Every song had a line that meant something.

A beautiful minute.

Mitch Albom gets it. Life isn't perfect, our marriage isn't perfect, but minutes can be. And those beautiful minutes are what makes life beautiful.

Asking for help is hard.

Dear Zo,

I don't think you knew I was taking your picture, but maybe you did. Lately you've been making crazy faces at me when I try to take your photo. Crazy faces, or you cover your face with your hands. I'm not sure what phase this is that you're in. I guess it's one of the symptoms of your age. Twoooo.

I was watching you as I took your picture on this warm day, and I watched you again this morning as you were eating your cereal. Mommies always watch their children, but there was something special about this morning. Not with you; you're always special, but something inside me today was different. It was one of those moments where I thought, I am so blessed to be your Mama. You and I have had a few bumpy moments lately. Your little will is so strong, and I'm struggling with how to handle you. You want to do everything by yourself. No, Mommy, no help. No, Mommy, me! I want you to be independent, but there are things you still need help with.

We have lots of talks about kindness. You being kind. Mommy being kind. We pray to Jesus a lot. I tell you, Jesus will help us when we ask Him. So we ask him for help, you and I. Lately we've needed His help lots of times each day. When I take your hands in mine and we stop and pray, Jesus, we need your help, I hope you are learning that asking for help is a good thing. You won't always know all the answers. I don't always know all the answers. When we don't, we need to ask for help.

This stopping and asking for help has also been good for me. It's made me realize that I try to do too much on my own. Perhaps more than that, though, I realized that I do too much on my own because I think I can do it better. I think that my way is the best way. Instead of first looking to Jesus, I do things my way. What usually happens? Well, it depends. Sometimes things are fine. Sometimes my way is the best way. But other times, my best efforts end up making things worse. 

What I want you to learn in life, Zo, is that asking for help is sometimes very hard. Asking for help means that you've decided that you aren't going to try to do it on your own. This asking is sometimes the bravest thing that you can do. And if someone ever asks you for help, I want you to learn to be gracious and give it to them. Don't make them ask twice. Be gracious as Jesus is gracious to us, all the time. I want you to learn that Jesus is the source of all our help.

I'm so thankful for moments like the one I had earlier today with you, when it seemed that the world stopped and everything was in focus. I looked at you and I knew that everything was going to be okay. You, me, your Daddy, Beebee Acka...we'll all be okay. More than okay--wonderful. We will be wonderful and we will learn together and we will ask for help.

Love you forever. 

We've turned twooooooooo.

Our darling girl, Miss Zoe Caroline, is now "Twooooo."

Dear Zo-zo,

Happy 2nd birthday! Two months late is this letter of remembrances, but our lives are crazy right now. You don't mind, do you?

Let's start with a list of things you currently love:

Pooh-ba (Pooh-bear, of course.)

Ruh-ruh (Clifford the Big Red Dog. Your favorite episode is on a video Gigi got you for your birthday. It features this little dauschaund named Bob, who doesn't obey and gets in lots of trouble. You ask to watch the video by saying, "Ruh-ruh? Ruh-ruh? Bob! Bob. Bob? Yep.")

Spinning and singing and dancing. You especially love Ring Around the Rosies right now, because you get to fall down at the end. This is hilarious to you, and you'll spin and fall as many times as I will sing the song.

Saying all the names of the people you love, in a sort of song you made up. 
"Gigi, Nana, Opa, Dada, Mama, Ahka...Gigi, Nana, Opa, Dada, Mama, Ahka, Puppy..." Grandaddy's name currently has too many syllables, but when I add it to the list, you smile and say, "Yep!"

Beebee Ahka. This is what you call your baby brother, Eric. When you wake up, you ask for Dada, and then for Beebee Ahka. Sometimes you really get going saying his name very very fast, BeebeeAhkaBeebeeAhkaBEEBEEAHKA and then it morphs into BeeAhkaBeeAhkaBeeAhka. You love your brother so much and are such a good helper with him.

Painting, drawing with chalk, drawing with crayons, coloring with markers, anything that has to do with art. You love to create and when you get done, you point at your picture and say, wide-eyed, "WOW!" I love that your sense of wonder is so big and so evident. You also sometimes color on things that are NOT paper. I asked you yesterday, rhetorically (you don't know yet that sometimes I ask questions that I already know the answer to), why you color on the wall or the floor. You looked at me, looked at the wall, spread your hands out and said, "Hmmm...."

Hide-and-seek. You love the actual game played with Daddy, and you also love your version of it, where you hide objects like a sock or a spoon or your baby doll and then want me to find them. You always try to trick me. So if I ask, "Oh, where's the sock?" You point to the light in the ceiling or to the bathtub, trying to get me to look there instead of under the blanket. I love how your imagination is developing.

Reading. You love, love, love to read. I'm so very thankful you do. I want you to learn how the world opens up to you when you read. I want you to feel that simple joy of getting lost in a book, of reading into the wee hours because you can't go to sleep until you finish the story. (And I will try my hardest to remember this when I'm telling you to go to bed and you want to read just a little longer.)

The list of things you don't love is very short...raw tomatoes, flip-flops, getting your picture taken when everyone is looking at you, and lately, shirts that are not the color blue. Otherwise, you love to try new things!

Some of your firsts this year:

Your first sentence (phrase) was Daddy, Go! We were in the car, and apparently Daddy wasn't getting to wherever we were going fast enough, so you started telling him Daddy, go! You also love to say Mommy, No! So, Daddy go and Mommy no...I see how it is.

Your first joke was when we were in the car, waiting for the light to turn green. We were telling you that red means stop and green means go. When the light turned green, you said, "GOOOOO!" We laughed at your excitement, but then you started saying, "Ruh-ruh, GOOOO! Heeheeheehee." We corrected you, saying, No, red means stop. You looked right at us, shook your head, said it again, and laughed loudly. It took us a few times, but we finally realized you were making a joke!

Oh, Zo, darling girl. You mean the world to us. You have weathered the transition from only child to oldest child so well. You have such curiosity and a depth of understanding that is beyond you. I sometimes look at you, realizing how much you understand, and I am floored. We are just so thankful to God for you. Happy 2nd birthday!

Love you forever. xo

You & Daddy blowing out your candles.

Your new art easel!

The family

A welcome letter to Baby Eric

Dearest Eric Robert,

You're three weeks old.

Wow.

I knew I needed to put down your birth story, otherwise it will fade in my memory like your sister Zoë's already has.

You were due on Saturday, January 12th. You were born on Friday, January 11th. My doctor told me that I'm one of those lucky women who delivers fully-cooked babies. Yay for me. But both you and your sister were beautiful and healthy. So that's what matters.

I had decided that Friday the 11th was going to be my last day at work. I was quite ready for you to come and to not be on my feet anymore. I had a doctor's appointment that morning and was told that you could come any time, or that you might wait a while.  I went to school and taught the afternoon, then stayed a little while cleaning up my desk and organizing some papers. I'd had my substitute folder complete and ready to go since we'd returned from Christmas break, just in case.

Your grandparents on my side, Gigi and Grandaddy, had said they would come get your sister and take her for the weekend. I think Gigi had an inkling that you were going to come soon. They came and picked up Zoë around 6. Your Daddy and I decided to live it up and go out to eat and see a movie. We thought we should take advantage of being sans kiddos one last time. On our way to dinner, we stopped by the Warren Theatre and bought tickets to the 8 o'clock IMAX showing of The Hobbit. We headed to Pei Wei, one of Mommy's favorite places to eat.

During dinner, I started having a few contractions. I'd had Braxton-Hicks contractions for months with both Zoë and you, and usually they stopped. While these felt a little stronger, a little different from those, I still didn't think you were coming yet. We left for the theatre at 7:50. We pulled into the parking lot and I was feeling very unsure if we should go watch the movie or not. We decided since we already had the tickets, we would try it but sit on the aisle in case we needed to leave. We got out of the car and I had a very strong contraction that stopped me in my tracks. Back into the car I went. Your Daddy dashed back into the theatre and got a refund for our tickets. He wondered if we should just go to the hospital and he would go back home later for my hospital bag. I said no, let's go home first, maybe my contractions will stop. But they didn't and were getting stronger and closer together.

We made it home and were only there for 10 minutes or so before I was having to stop and do breathing exercises through the contractions. Your Daddy zipped into high gear and rushed around the house getting the last few things we needed. We got into the car and headed to the Birth Care Center with my contractions about a minute apart. We checked in at the desk and I kept having to lean on your Daddy as I was trying to sign my name to all the paperwork. We got to our hospital room around 8:55.

Everything went incredibly fast and before I knew it, they were telling me I could push if I wanted to. I couldn't believe that you were about to come. I looked at your Daddy and asked, Are they really telling me to push? I remember the delivery nurse telling me that I was doing a great job and was about to have a baby. I was so confused because we had just gotten to the hospital. What do you mean I'm about to have a baby? Do you know what you're saying? I just got here! Your Daddy was helping me breathe and count and the doctor broke my water, I pushed...

And you came into our world at 9:38 p.m.
8 lbs, 5 oz, 20 1/4 inches long. A head of black hair and a healthy cry.
Long fingers and what your Daddy affectionately calls your monkey feet. Long feet and toes like fingers, just like him.

And we loved you completely.

Welcome to our family, Eric.

Love you forever,
Mama
xo

 

Christmas Joys

Where cousins go to become friends...Lyle is happy as always...

Comparison from last Christmas

Waiting

We are at 39 weeks, 2 days. Waiting for baby boy to come...

We have a list of names but not a favorite picked out. Not officially. With Zoë, we had narrowed it down to two (I think). We discussed this over the weekend and neither of us could remember our 2nd choice for her. It's amazing what you forget that once seemed very important.

I'm a bit concerned that we haven't yet chosen his name. I suppose it's mostly the part of me that likes to have everything all figured out and organized. I'd like to go to the hospital knowing. And it's not that we don't have ideas...we just haven't chosen. Two days ago Nathaniel threw out another name that hadn't been on our (ok, my) list. He really likes it. I'm processing it. 

For some reason, choosing a boy name has been so much harder for us than it was choosing a girl name. I think it's because the boy will become a man, so the name we choose needs to be able to stand that transition. It's also because having a name that has a good meaning is important to both Nathaniel and I. And after the choice that we made with Zoë being so true (Zoë meaning "life" and Caroline meaning "strength"), we joke that this child's name really should mean something like "peaceful" or "calm".  We had to throw out a name that we both really liked because its meaning was "wolf-lover." We weren't sure how to make that Biblical. Wolf-lover...ok, spiritually that could mean one who...um, a wolf in sheep's clothing, uh...yeah, no.

I was so thankful that Nathaniel and I both had time off over Christmas. We got so many things finished on our to-do list. I think we're as ready as we can be. The bassinet is set up, baby clothes are washed and folded, Zoë's clothes and baby's clothes are now living in their new-to-us dresser, my hospital bag is packed, lesson plans are written...  

I keep telling people when they ask if I'm anxious about having baby #2 that I've been holding onto those beautiful verses in Psalm 139 that talk about how my baby's days have all been ordained before one of them came to be, that each baby is fearfully and wonderfully made. Now I just need to relax and enjoy the calm before the storm, knowing that, as my mom says, everything will work out in the fullness of time. She reminded me tonight that even Christ was born in the fullness of time. My baby's birthday has been preordained; I just need to wait for it to be revealed. What a promise. What a comfort.

Come when you're ready, little guy. Can't wait to meet you.

On weddings and the joy of sleeping in your own bed...part one.

Last weekend we flew to Greenville, South Carolina to see my brother marry a fabulous girl. Since my mom is originally from North Carolina, a lot of her extended family was able to join us there. We had a wonderful time being together. The weather was gorgeous and cooperated fully except that it started raining during the ceremony and everyone had to mill about inside while the chairs were moved to the reception. It was a very small inconvenience and everything was just delightful. Steph has such a sense of style and everything was decorated so well!

Everything, except darling Zoë decided that pack-and-plays in hotel rooms were unsuitable for sleeping. We left Wichita at 7 am on Friday, getting to Greenville around noon. Mom & Dad picked us up at the airport and when we got back to the hotel, Zoë did fall asleep for a little nap in our hotel room. She won't go to sleep if she can see us, so as dutiful parents we camped outside the door until she stopped crying.

That night, same story, second verse...fussed and cried loudly for a while but finally went to sleep. Woke up at 1:45 in the morning and would.not.be.soothed. We had a room with double beds, so my pregnant self and all my necessary pillows took one bed, and Nathaniel took the other. I put Zoë in bed with me, and she laid quietly for a little while, then I tried putting her back in her pack-and-play. Nothing doing. She immediately stood up and started crying.

Put her back in bed with me.

Wouldn't fall asleep. Fussed. Cried. Flopped.

Finally told Nathaniel, "Your turn..."

He took her into his bed. Up and down, back and forth to the pack-and-play. Around 2:45, we decided she just needed to fuss it out and hopefully was so tired it would only take a few minutes. Nope. At this point she was crying. Loudly. At 3 am, knock on the door (and she'd just quieted down, of course.) Hotel management. Report of a loudly crying baby on floor 5.

Right. Yes, we know. And what would you have us do? It's not like we aren't in here with her. It's 3 in the morning. She's a baby. Babies cry. Where shall we go with her?

So at a little after 3, Nathaniel, bless his Daddy heart, took her down to the hotel lobby. She finally fell asleep on the sofa in the lobby around 5:30 and he brought her back upstairs.

Up & at em at 7. My turn then and she & I went downstairs for breakfast while Nathaniel slept a bit longer.

Part two tomorrow...

Lyle sleeping...give Zoë some lessons, will you?

Loving on her cousin

Rehearsal

Steph & Mike & their pastor

Steph & Lyle & Kim...Lyle made friends everywhere he went!

The big reveal

We didn't find out what we were having when we were expecting Zoe. Since it was our first, we loved the idea of just waiting and actually being surprised when the doctor announced, "It's a..." 

(Although to be honest, I have zero memories of that announcement. I only remember Nathaniel going back and forth from the foot of the bed to my side and at some point telling me it was a girl. But I loved the idea anyway.)

So with this one, we thought for about a half a second that we might be surprised again, or find out just for us but keep it a secret. But then we thought, no...let's find out. Our sonogram appointment was on Friday. Baby Lutke did NOT want to cooperate. The sonographer had me roll to one side, then lay flat on my back, then roll to the other side, then thumped my stomach with her wand. Thirty minutes of this. We had invited both our moms to come for the big reveal, and my mom kept giving me sympathetic looks as I was rolled and prodded. Is this a harbinger of a stubborn baby? Please, no.

But then, how lovely. We were able to tell! Hooray! 

Here are a few photos from Saturday at our veryverysmall  gender reveal cupcake fest. Thanks Jenny, Archie, Jackie & Steph for coming to be surprised. Fun, fun.

And it's a BOY!

In the midst

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I made it through my first full week of part-time teaching.  It was a typical first week--filled more with lessons on how to behave in my classroom than lessons about Literature. I'd forgotten in my year off how long it takes to get your classroom working the way you want it. Since our first week was only two days long, in my mind I had myself teaching all my classroom rules and routines those days and then getting to work on Monday. Right. By Friday things were a little smoother. Not perfect, but smoother. We'd made it to the end of the week. Hallelujah.

It's been nice working again, but we're in the midst of a lengthy list of transitions. A transition for Nathaniel (a shoutout here goes to him for his superdad babysitting skills these past two weeks) being in charge of Zoe more often, a transition for me in getting ready for my classes and keeping up with all the other things I did before returning to work, a transition for Zoe in Mommy being gone more and having a nanny, and a transition for the dog--poor Henry is getting the short end of the playtime stick lately. And I've come to realize that transitions are not my favorite thing. For one, you never know how long they will last. I play a game with myself whenever I'm stressed or worried, and it goes a little like this, "Well, Carrie, it's hard right now, but remember, it's a transition phase. It will eventually get better." And usually this is true: it is a transition, and it will get better and easier and smoother, it's just that there's no promise of when.

So many friends of mine are finding themselves also in a phase of transition. For some it seems the season they are in has lasted for years. Waiting for something, or someone, or a little someone, or direction on a job or a move or just a new thing. And I don't know about you, but I've found it hard to completely trust God in all of these transitions. I think it's because so much of the time nothing is happening; I'm just waiting. It's easy to just go from day to day, knowing that things aren't as easy as they could be, feeling unsettled and wanting to be settled or for something to be decided. When I really think about it, though, it seems to me that a lot of all this is a yearning for life to be complete. If this, then this...when this happens, then this...and then I'll feel better, then I'll really know what is supposed to happen. But without transitions, there never would be change. Without change in our lives, there's no room for God to work.

My hope for myself and everyone else that finds themselves transitioning to something or away from something would find true Peace. Life this side of Heaven will never be perfect, but we can hold onto the One who is.

Mini-vacation

Isn't it great to be able to get away for a little while, even if it's just an extended weekend? I've been looking forward to this all summer. We left on Thursday after Nathaniel was finished teaching at Butler and headed to Branson. We planned to stay one night with my parents and just explore on Friday. It's hard to decide what to do sometimes with a toddler that still takes two naps (hooray when you're at home, not so much when you're out and about.) We made it to Missouri with not much fuss on Zoe's part...she's at the age where she doesn't much like to be cooped up anywhere, especially her carseat. She really did well, though, until the late afternoon fussy time. We had to endure her fussiness and squirminess for about an hour during which time I was half turned in my seat trying to entertain her. I ended up with a raw spot on the back of my arm! We'd brought the classical cd she usually goes to sleep to, but it was hard for her to get comfortable.  She finally fell asleep with her leg crooked over the arm of her carseat with her arm up behind her head. She woke up much happier and we made it into Springfield for dinner and then to Branson before too late. A late evening swim in the pool and then to bed for Zoe, while we adults hung out in the lobby until it was our bedtime. Traveling with kids requires flexibility! Last summer we went to Wisconsin when Zoe was only 10 weeks old. I think we might have been a little crazy. This trip was much shorter and much easier. Side note here: there are some children and teens that haven't been taught proper behavior when you're at a smallish hotel pool. We'd gotten there and had Zoe in her little pool float and were hanging out in the shallow end, right by the wall. Two boys came in--one about 13 and one probably 16--and they jumped in not far from us and started playing a game where they tried to splash and dunk each other. Mind you, the distance from us to them was probably less than three feet. I teach middle school, so you think I'd be more understanding, but really?

We didn't really do a whole lot in Branson, but it was great to be together with my parents. My aunt Barbie came up for the afternoon and dinner. We ate at the Keeter Center Restaurant at College of the Ozarks, which is about a 10 minute drive from Branson. All the food is locally grown and is served by students. We loved it and would definitely go back. If you're in the area, you should definitely give it a try. The prices are a little high, but comparable to any "nice" restaurant on the strip, and you knew at this place that everything was high quality and fresh. And the fresh rolls with homemade apple butter were amazing. I think I ate four of them. Maybe five.

Fun at the Outlet Mall

The Disney Store? You never told me this place existed...you can buy a million Pooh Bears here!

My new friend

In the lobby of the hotel, they had all these huge bears. This was our favorite place to hang out.

Pan-blackened catfish on quinoa and vegetables

Half a chicken, cooked two ways with garlic mashers and a okra-tomato salad with apple cider vinegar (This was my order and it was so, so good.)

Aunt Barbie & Dad

Love you, Auntie Barbie! Zoe's in her pj's for the drive down to Kristen's.

Happy Mom & Dad

The Keeter Center's outdoor porch

Free concerts and other summery things

Funny memory this morning, thanks to this:

Did you know you're never supposed to put an apple and a banana in the same area? The ethylene gas from the apple messes with the ripening of the banana. How do I know this, do you ask? When we went to Canada the summer after we got married, we stayed at a Bed and Breakfast in Montreal. The man that ran the B & B did not have a very high opinion of Americans. He was condescending in every way and did not make us feel one bit welcome. In the morning, when we arrived for our scant breakfast, Nathaniel took one of two bananas that were hanging on a banana hook. He placed the leftover banana in the fruit bowl on the counter, which contained apples among other fruit. The innkeeper looked down his nose at him and plucked the offending banana from the bowl: Don't you know you NEVER put a banana... And all I remember thinking was, Really? Did you really just correct a paying customer about a BANANA? So anyway, I guess I didn't really learn that lesson well. That poor ripe banana.

But I started writing about free concerts and other fun summer outings. So many things to be thankful for today: a quietly napping baby, dinner at NJ's and the Spiderman movie with Nathaniel last night, (Zoe-keeping courtesy of his parents...thank you thank you), the upcoming prospect of working part-time and stretching my brain (I have been having such fun lesson planning...well hello teacher nerd), and free events in the summer.

Thursday evening we went to a free concert at WSU, part of their Art for Your Ears concert series. We got to hear Gretchen Peters. They had free ice cream and free ice-cold water bottles, and the whole event was lovely! They have one per month in the summer. The next one is August 2nd. Read here for more information.

These were pint sized water bottles dipped in orange paint!

I hope you're finding fun things to do this summer!

The Unnecessary Burden of Guilt

I've a well-honed sense of guilt. Some days it doesn't come near me, but on others, it causes me to slump around and become lethargic. It creeps over as I'm gazing at some household chore I dread or some task I started and didn't finish. (Although, thanks to Real Simple magazine, I have been given a wonderful insight into chores...they said to check the clock and time yourself on whatever chore you hate the most, and be pleasantly surprised that it really doesn't take that long, and really isn't worth putting off. I mean, really, emptying the dishwasher and reloading it took all of 6 minutes. I dread 6 minutes? But I digress...)

This morning I didn't graciously allow my wonderful, hard-working husband to sleep in. I did let him sleep in, but not graciously. While he was sleeping, I was gracious, and fed Zoe and kept her quiet, but once he woke up, I was decidedly ungracious. I wanted him to pop right out of bed, raring to go, aware of all the chores I was quietly working on and rise to the occasion of helping me clean the house from top to bottom. Well, this obviously didn't happen, because he'd just woken up. He was still sleepy.

So this matter of feeling guilty. I felt guilty this morning about not being gracious, but mostly what I was upset about was that he DIDN'T feel guilty about sleeping in. Because I would have. So he should have.

Isn't that the most warped thing? So as I took our in-laws' dog out for a walk, I pondered my attitude. I feel guilty a LOT. And I know I do, and I know I shouldn't. And so I feel guilty about that. I feel that I should use my time better. I should read the Bible more. I should volunteer more often and take more meals to sick people or people with new babies or the neighbors across the street. (Although I did make a blueberry tart for our neighbors last week but they weren't home at the time I tried to take it to them, so then I brought it back home and stuck it in the fridge, forgetting about it until I threw it away this morning. But I don't really feel guilty about that, just forgetful.) When Nathaniel is gracious (and he is much, much better at this than me) and lets me sleep in, once I wake up, I feel guilty. I feel that I should have gotten up and taken care of Zoe and done all these things that he did while I was sleeping.

So I'm still working through all this and trying to figure out why my first inclination is to feel guilt. Perhaps it's my background of Calvinism? Sin is ever before me and in me? I long to move into the wideness of God's mercy, and as I learn it, to pour it out over others. And this thing of wanting others to feel guilty because I would have really has to stop.

Is it a faulty view of myself in light of God's grace and mercy? Or a correct one? The church we attend has a saying they often repeat: Until sin is bitter, grace cannot be sweet. When I first heard that, I thought, "Yes!" Until I can see myself in the light of God's incredible perfection, I can't realize how much I need Him and what He did for me. But on the other hand, He sees me as His child. When I think of Zoe, even when she does something I tell her not to (like throw Pooh Bear in the kitchen trash can), I still love her immensely. Do I feel that I let God down in my actions or inactions? As His child, He looks on me and smiles. This burden I carry over things that don't matter is unnecessary. An attitude of guilt keeps me from God's purposes of fully living.

And that's what I mean about moving into the wideness of His mercy. I want to learn to accept that for myself and be able to freely give it to others.

Fun with Daddy

Yesterday was quite fun. We went to Saturday night church the night before (a first for us, and I can see why people enjoy it...you get your whole Sunday free!) We went out to eat for breakfast, then to OJ Watson park to go paddleboating and to eat snowcones, back home for a nap and then to Nathaniel's parents' house. All in all a really wonderful day. Thanks, babe, for being such a great Daddy to Zoe. We love you!

Eggcetera in Old Town...they have a really wonderful Greek omelet

Paddleboating

Following the Yellow Brick Road

Zoe LOVES to swing. Woe to us if she sees swings in the distance at a park.
Once she sees them, it's all over for us!

Zoe's first trip to the beach

Oh, how I love the ocean. I wonder if it's because I live smack-dab in the middle of the country, miles and miles and hours and hours away from the coastline. Or do I love it so much because I have such happy family memories of beach trips? Whatever the reasons, I feel like I'm coming home when I get a glimpse of the water and smell that salty air.  I really wanted Zoe to experience the beach this summer. When my side of the family ended up deciding against the beach trip (due to a really great reason: my brother's fabulous upcoming wedding in October in South Carolina), I was disappointed to not have a week at the beach.

But it ended up working out! We just got back from a week on the East Coast visiting Nathaniel's side of the family. We started in Raleigh and then visited his sister Rachel in Chesapeake. One day the weather was forecasted to be mostly sunny, so after Zoe's morning nap, we packed up and hit Virginia Beach! It was only for two hours, but boy were they glorious! Thanks, Rach, for organizing this crew for a most wonderful outing!

Watching Veggie Tales to pass the time...are we there yet? 

She wasn't sure about the sand at first

Ooh, don't take me too far out!

I could absolutely live here. Sorry, Kansas!

Mama and Zoe

Beautiful Auntie Rach

Cousin J

Conquerers of the sandcastle! Uncle Than with K, I & J!

Motherless & Childless Day

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Celebrating mothers is wonderful and I'm glad I was celebrated yesterday with flowers and lovely bagels from Panera. I called my mom and while I didn't get to see her, I am so very, very thankful for her. I celebrate and salute her! She is just incredible and so important to me.

But this post is dedicated to all my friends who wish to be moms and who aren't yet, for my friends who have lost their mothers, for my single friends who one day hope to be mothers but want God to provide a husband first, and for all who decline to go to Mother's Day services because it's just too hard.

Yesterday was hard for many. Holidays like Mother's Day are often reminders of things that are missed or missing.

I thought about each of my friends that were a bit sad on Mother's Day and my good intentions got caught up in busyness and I didn't call or text. But you know who you are and I hope you know I love you.

Happy Monday after. Blessings to you today!