Advent Blogging done.

If you are not totally 'Christmased' out, listen to the birth of Jesus as narrated by the Bible Experience. It's my favourite audio bible: Birth of Jesus

Peace of Christ to you.

A special delivery and Candlelight service

After sleeping by the tree last night, we had an early morning wake up call. Friends of ours had suggested we join them in delivering food hampers in our village. So armed with coffee, donuts and Christmas tunes we headed over to the loading place. There was a line up a mile long of cars filled with people willing to give up Christmas Eve morning to deliver food in the pouring rain. We got our 4 loads of 2 boxes each and headed over to a low income seniors' complex to bring our boxes. Each of our ladies were super thankful for their boxes, but we got a bit of a shock when one lady opened the door naked! She welcomed us in, but I told her that we could wait while she put some clothes on. Then we had a lovely chat.

After spending some time with my family, we headed off to church for the Candlelight service. The masterpiece of the night was a huge floating pool that was created to float the candles. So fun to watch people come and place their candles as an act of worship. Some floated a little too close to the edge, so I took pictures and kept the candles from setting things on fire.


Merry Christmas!

Sleeping by the Christmas tree

I didn't think how painful this activity would be. A shag carpet on hardwood floor is no comparison to our lovely pillow-top mattress. However, the excitement of the girls is hard to say no too!

Puppets and Playdates

Another gorgeous day here and the girls jumped on my bed early in the morning with the plea to 'defrost' the trampoline. How? By putting on snowsuits and sliding on it of course! So out came the snowsuits and 20 minutes later the trampoline was defrosted and the girls had rosy cheeks and an appetite for breakfast.

The card/activity of the day was puppet making and story telling, so the girls started their puppets and set making soon after breakfast. But that was all put aside with a phone call from good friends wanting to hang out. Lunch, gingerbread house decorating, playing at the park, hot chocolate and trampoline jumping made 3 hours fly by. With such a busy fall, it was so good to just play and chat together. Sometimes you can forget how life giving good friends can be!

Then after dinner, the puppets came out and the girls and Hubby each put on a show!(I begged off because I still have a paper due for school. However, I was the audience for the night) I love hearing the girls' stories and just excitement to be doing this with us. Hubby took an old pair of socks and put on quite the show. The pictures don't quite do it justice, but they are phone pictures after all!

Pookie's Princess and Dragon Story

Bear's Princess and Elf story

And the sock puppets

Counting down the days

Today we were supposed to take our free movie tickets and head to the theatre with the girls, but there was not a single movie that they wanted to see. So when we woked up to a glorious sunny day, the girls and I decided to walk into town and pick up a DVD and some treats instead. We got Kung Fu Panda 2. I love the Kung Fu Panda movies, all 3 of them. If I could only have one kid movie/series, that might be my choice. It always cracks me up.

Potatoes and milk

A couple of weeks ago Hubby and Bear were left at home due to sickness while Pookie and I went to a family dinner. When I came home and asked what they had for dinner, Hubby answered, 'Milk and Potatoes'. Then Bear gleefully chimed in, "French Fries and Ice Cream".

Yup. They dipped fries into ice cream and called it dinner.

Tonight I worked late and the Advent activity was going out for ice cream. This time Hubby made chicken strips and fries...then they went for ice cream. Then we all met up and headed to good friends for hot chocolate, cookies and candy.

And now it is 10 pm and the girls are bouncing off the walls...I wonder why?

A strange occurrence

At first it was no big deal. Then my palms started getting itchy. I started fidgeting and shifting in place. I broke into a cold sweat and my ears started buzzing from all the noise. Finally, I could stand it no longer.

Enough! We have to get out of here!

The girls have discovered the sparkly, girly mess that is Claire's in the mall. I stood there as they oohed and ahhed over dangly earrings, rainbow skirts, makeup, nail polish and so much more. I hit my limit when Pookie dragged me over to see a feather boa that she NEEDED!

Parenting girls is going to kill me.

3rd Annual Christmas Open House

While our Ontario family had their big family gathering today, we had our West Coast 'family' gathering here. All in all, 51 friends came over a period of 5 hours and shared food, drink, laughs and fun with us. This is honestly one of our favourite family traditions in Advent. It is purposely set up as a casual drop in time where we provide snacks and drinks and folks are free to bring food to share. Thankfully the rain held off and the kids were able to jump on the trampoline and play basketball and football outside with the occasional forage for food.

One of my greatest pleasures is seeing friends so comfortable in our space that they happily rummage through cupboards to find what they need, chat with whoever is near and have their kids run wild. Seems to me that I need nothing else this Advent season that just this gift of friends, family and community.

Thanks to all that came!

Christmas Lights

Tonight we bundled up in our PJ's, made some steamed milk and got in the van to check out Christmas lights. As always, we got into the whole Santa discussion with the girls. I'm not usually a 'Jesus is the Reason for the Season' or 'Keep the Christ in Christmas' kinda gal. I do say Merry Christmas as opposed to Seasons Greetings, but there is something about Santa that I resist. I like the St. Nick story, but that is as far as it goes. We've never done Santa pictures with the girls, or given gifts to them from Santa. In fact, we've stolen a line from friend's dad who used to tell his kids that Santa was a big, fat phoney!

I don't mind if people do the Santa thing, it's just not for us. And we teach the girls to respect other kids and their views around Christmas. The last thing I need is for some kid to freak out if the girls ruined the Santa thing for them! So when the girls were pushing this year for ALL the things they wanted from Santa, I responded that if they wanted to count on Santa this year for their gifts that was fine by me...it meant I could take it easy! There was silence from the back seat. Then I heard a voice say, Forget it Mom, Santa is just a big, fat phoney!

Here's our 'Santa' picture. This house had a dancing Santa in the window that just cracked the girls up!

Some houses were amazing. One guy from our church has over 12000 lights!

A Charlie Brown Christmas

Since Advent is a TV free time for us, today's activity was extra special...watching the Charlie Brown Christmas movie while cuddled in bed.

In memory of....

Every December 15th for the past eight years I have bought my mom flowers. Nine years ago, when I was in the early stages of pregnancy with Pookie, my Oma died. She was my only real grandparent who was consistently in our lives. Every year she would fly over from Holland for six weeks to spend time with us. She spoke almost no English, and I spoke very little Dutch, but we loved to hang out together.

Earlier that year when she visited, I had arranged for a professional photographer to come and take pictures of Oma, my mom, my sister and I. Oma was eighty at the time and I knew that soon she would be unable to make the trip over to Canada anymore. Little did we know, but she was already really sick with a football sized tumour in her abdomen. One of the last things she said to me was that she was longing to see me become a mother and was praying for me in the best way she knew how that it would happen for us.

In early December of 2002, we got a call from Holland. Oma was in the hospital and we needed come quickly. I remember arguing with everyone about whether I should go or not. We had just had a scare with the pregnancy with Pookie and we were on edge about whether I'd carry to term or not. No one was sure that a nine hour flight was good for me. Ultimately we decided that I should stay home.

Almost every year at this time I regret that decision. Oma died one day after her eighty first birthday, Dec 16, 2002. The day before she died, I told her I was pregnant and my mom says that was one of the last times she smiled.

I wish my girls could have met my Oma. She was selfless and gentle. An amazing cook and just a presence that was easy to be with. Bear especially looks so much like Oma with her green eyes and left handedness.

So today the girls joined me in the tradition of honouring their great grandmother by honouring their grandmother with Christmas flowers.

Teacher gifts

Homemade card. White chocolate dipped pretzels. A Christmas ornament and magnet. Not sure if the teacher cares at all, but there you go. T'is better to give than receive.

The other part of our night included Jib Jabbing our family! Click to watch. The girls also made a Christmas rap with Julie on Monday night...but I'm not smart enough to link it here. Comment if hearing it would make your day and I'll email it to you.

The school Christmas Concert

God bless music teachers. They wrangle tiny singers, restless intermediates and awkward preteen band players and usually do it all for a bouquet of flowers at the end of the one performance of the season.

Tonight's performance was based on the book Amalh and the Night Vistors. A beautifully illustrated story about the Magi and a poor little boy they visit on their way to see the Christ Child.

Pookie played the xylophone and did a great job!

Bear sang and goofed around with her good friend B...

An eggnog latte, a new friend to chat with and a program that lasted just over an hour. A pretty good night all in all.

Gingerbread houses

Advent Activity: Gingerbread houses.

What the girls were equally, if not more excited about: Julie & Chanelle coming to hang out with them, so that we could go to Hubby's work Christmas party.

I love that.

Singing and banging the djembe

We had our Christmas Cantata at church today. Lots of singing, lots of drum playing. So sleepy now.

The Festival of Lights

Some hot chocolate, kettle corn, good friends and a lot of lights



Crazy, hyper kids


Just beautiful

Change in plans

Once in a while something comes along and forces us to change plans for an activity. Usually I can prevent the girls from knowing by simply switching the cards the night before...but not today. We chose to do today's activity tomorrow simply because we had the opportunity to have friends join us and that is a rare gift. But it meant that when I picked up the girls today I had to come up with a last minute activity. I finally remembered that I'd picked up a simple Christmas craft, so I whipped it out and Bear excitedly set to work. Pookie was less than impressed, but cheered up considerably when she realized her aunt and cousin were coming for dinner. Crisis averted!

Building a fire and roasting marshmellows

With our new abode came a working woodburning fireplace. So course we had to test it out on a cold winter's night. Tried to get some good pictures in low light, but marshmellows make kids hyper!

Love is letting your kids painting both their own and your toenails and resisting the urge to 'fix' them.

Glo-stix dance party!

This was the perfect way to decompress after a day of school and work!

Food bank and Flash mob

Today's activity was buying food for the food bank. I gave each girl $20 and told them to make a meal and buy some treats. They were so cute lugging their baskets and agonizing over what cereal to buy. Somehow I left the house without my phone, so I'm picture-less, but I was grateful to see that the girls were just as excited about this activity as they were about decorating the house. I've got some cool kids!

And just because I am a sucker for a good flash mob, check out this video made on "Black Friday" in a crowded mall:

Christmas "Chores" Advent- Day 7

The best thing about the Advent box is the ability to incorporate the "chores" of Christmas into Fun. Family. Activities! That is what today was all about: making Christmas cards for classmates and for me, the annual Christmas letter and photo. While that meant addressing legions of cards and actually writing the Christmas letter, the girls made use of my Michael's bargain find of the week:

Stamps!

A bargain on a package of 16 Christmas stamps, 2 ink pads and blank cards and away they went!

Perhaps one will show up in your mailbox!

The decorations are up!

Since Advent started the girls have been asking to put up the tree and decorate. After a busy morning of swimming lessons and choir practise, we arrived home to this sight:

So, the girls got busy:

Let the festivities begin!

Advent day 5

Christmas Parade in which Pookie was the "Angel"

Parent teacher meetings & Advent day4

Last night we had our parent/teacher conference meetings at the girls' school. Suffice it to say that our girls have 2 very different learning styles and that is reflected in their respective report cards. ****Edited out of respect for all involved..

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

In Advent news, yesterday's activity was 'Play board games'. However when I got home, the girls had compiled a list(I'm not kidding here) of 22 games for us to play. Since we only had approximately 37 minutes to make dinner, eat and get to the conference, I asked the girls for their top 3. It was a unanimous decision: Hide and Seek. I thought this was hilarious since we have maybe 6 hiding spots in our new 'littler' digs, but I was IT and off we went. And it was great! We played before dinner and after we got home from the meetings. The second time was in the dark which involved a lot of screaming. So grateful for these two who remind us that play is good.

Advent day #3

Advent in Instagram Series: Low light and fort dwelling does not a good picture make.


It's Year 3 of our family Advent Box tradition (click here for original post). The girls have been asking about the box pretty much since Halloween and when it showed up on Sunday, they freaked out. You know you have something good going on when your kids not only say that it is their favorite part of Christmas, but take it to school to "share" with their class.

In the spirit of Advent/Christmas, enjoy this video!

Advent

Advent, the beginning of the journey.
A chance to slow down and enter anew into the narrative of the God story.
We light a candle, a symbol of hope in the darkness.
Emmanuel, God with us.

Carving Time

Take 5 homegrown pumpkins, 2 kids, 2 parents and a bunch of knives and you have a good picture of how we spent our afternoon. This was the first year where we have let the girls go at it with knives themselves. Surprisingly, no blood was shed and fun was had. Hubby, of course, created his latest masterpiece while I helped the girls clean and carve their pumpkins. By the end of it, I had no creative ideas for my own pumpkin. We had one spare pumpkin that the girls wanted to turn into a disco ball. I made some snarky comment to Hubby about also carving rainbows, unicorns and stars into it since he was such an artist.

So, of course he did.

Jerk.

Pumpkins, grown with love

Two goofballs with knives


Our pumpkin family. If you look closely at the pumpkin on the far right, you can see a unicorn!

Theology Mashup

I've been thinking a lot about theology lately. I'm taking two graduate courses for my Master's Degree, meeting some really good folks who are doing crazy things for the Kingdom and reading tons of twitter/blog/facebook articles.

But here is the problem. There is a lot of it floating around out there.

It doesn't help that in 2 weeks I'm going to be standing front of several hundred people speaking about the theology I believe in and how I think it should be playing out in our churches.

Suffice it to say, I am FREAKING OUT about it.

Here's what crossed my desk this week, let me know what you think...

Mark Driscoll: I am not a huge fan of this guy...probably because I'm a woman in leadership. I do appreciate what I understand his heart to be, however this week a Youtube clip went viral with one of his sermons. I wanted to link to it here, but I'm guessing his church yanked it down. Here is the gist of it. (a direct quote):

Some of you, God hates you. Some of you, God is sick of you. God is frustrated with you. God is wearied by you. God has suffered long enough with you. He doesn’t think you’re cute. He doesn’t think it’s funny. He doesn’t think your excuse is “meritous” [the word he's looking for there is "meritorious]. He doesn’t care if you compare yourself to someone worse than you, He hates them too. God hates, right now, personally, objectively hates some of you.

Brene Brown's take on grace:



My personal favorite of the week mostly cause it echoes my heart




A glimpse into Brennan Manning, author of a Ragamuffin Gospel




That's is about 1/100th of what I read/watched this week. I don't know whether to be thankful that there is so much out there or terrified.

My little girl is six!!!

The many faces of Bear
So Cute!

So Crazy!


So Physical!


So Lovely!


This kid makes us laugh all the time. She informed us that there is a "School Bear" and a "Home Bear" and that she is more funny at home...She is full of energy, she is my little buddy in the garden and food canning. She has gained inches this year and is becoming more confident in social situations. She is just like her Dad with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, a friendly soul, but still a Mama's girl for cuddles. She makes our family complete!

Never Forget.

I have refused to watch TV this week. I know that there have been countless shows reflecting/speculating/remembering this date 10 years ago. I know exactly where I was when 'IT' happened. I was in our living room eating breakfast and cradling my belly...I was pregnant for the first time and blissed out. Until I realized what was happening. Then for the next 4 hours I watched as the world as I knew imploded. People falling to their death, reports of more plane crashes and on and on. And I wondered how we could even think of bringing another life into this crazy world.

Within that first day, the media had crowned the World Trade Center as "Ground Zero". For days after we saw footage of the utter devastation of that area. There was no life and no hope. Five years ago I visited Ground Zero with my youth group. A raggedy group of teens and young adults, at 11:30pm in New York stood at Ground Zero and wept. Five years later the site still had the power to turn a group of Canadians into a snotty weepy mess. You never forget Ground Zero.

But for me, Sept 11th brings other memories to the forefront. 10 years ago on this date I was pregnant. We had just told our family and we were so excited! It had been a bit of a journey for us and we felt beyond blessed. 2 weeks later, I had my own Ground Zero. Our baby had died inside me and we only found out through an early ultrasound by accident. I was in the hospital for 2 days for surgery, then home to recover for a week. But really, inside, was Ground Zero...total devastation. I actually don't remember much of the months between Sept 2001 and June 2002. It was like everything that I knew was blown to bits and I didn't even know where to start to pick up the pieces.

In no way am I comparing what happened to me to what happened in New York, Washington and Pennsylvania. But what struck me today was the process of rebuilding that has taken place over the 10 years in the USA and in me.

Without a doubt, the events of Sept 2001 have shaped me. Both events rocked me to the core in terms of rethinking what life in this world looks like. What faith looks like. What family means.

But. BUT. I think I've come out stronger. Scarred to be sure, but stronger. I learned how to be with someone in grief. That companionable silence is better than empty words. The need to honour life in its many shapes and forms. The sensitivity never to ask if someone when they are having kids, if they are having more or if they are pregnant. And the general awareness that life is fragile.

September is a remembering kind of month for me. Never Forget.

Packing and Purging

August was a blur of packing and purging. We moved from a space of 2200 sq. feet to maybe 1300 sq. feet. That meant a ton of furniture, toys and various other items needed new homes, including our piano. The girls needed to get rid of 2/3 of their toys and stuffies. That was a fun conversation with Pookie who declared that each of her stuffies were special to her! They did great though and are loving having their own bedrooms. Plus with a big backyard we got them a trampoline. Wow, that may have been the best investment ever...hours of entertainment and activity. Bear definitely loves it more since she is less interested in watching TV and more interested in moving and playing.

As for the purging, it meant some selling, a lot of donating to various charities and some dumping. (I really hated sending some much to the dump, but what else to do?) For me, the purging was the most rewarding. There is a sense of order and more of a balance of daily use stuff and seasonal stuff, with a lot of memory items that I need to sort through. There are still some boxes in storage that I need to go through, but it is strange...I feel less burdened by our belongings than ever before. Quite freeing actually.

The highlight for me in the chaos of moving/cleaning/packing/unpacking, was the chance to give Hubby a hard time for the sheer amount of clothes he has. I'm pretty good with getting rid of clothes if they become worn out, whether I've gained/lost weight or just don't like it. For a guy that wears t-shirts and shorts/jeans to work, and slightly nicer t-shirts and jeans for home, having so many other clothes was ridiculous...plus the fact that as he continues to work at construction, he is getting skinnier, but with huge muscles. Half his clothes can't fit over his shoulders and arms anymore! So out they went and our closet looks good.

Lots of folks ask if we regret our decision...I look around my family and see 2 girls loving their bedrooms, trampoline and living close to their auntie, I see a husband who now feels less of a burden in terms of financially providing for his family and I see a beautiful house space with lots of light. So far, so right.

Blowing the dust off...

Wow this space is looking a little neglected. Sorry about that. Suddenly summer arrived and blogging went out the window.

That plus a few minor changes in our lives...

So, this isn't a catch up blog post, but rather a preview of what's to come.

Blog titles brewing in my head, not necessarily in any order:

Packing and Purging
Moving: The ultimate workout
Unpacking
Body image, what is my problem?
Compost Theology
A book deal? That is ridiculous!
A look toward the Fall
A new family member
Crazy and how I deal with it. A look at the process.

See you soon!

Not so good with the Letting It Go...

It has become glaringly obvious to me that I lack a certain parenting gene. To be clear, I actually lack a lot of parenting genes. I am a schizophrenic parent, loving and kind one minute, a raving lunatic the next. Then I read ACJ's post on God as a parent and realized that God kinda is too...especially in the Old Testament. It must have something to do with the whole Love and Grace thing.

Anyways, the gene I desperately lack is the "Letting it Go" gene. You know, the gene that lets you survey your parenting domain with sereneness, embracing the chaos and beauty around you without batting a eyelash. Lots of my friends have this gene. I asked one good friend who has five kids how she does it and she replied that she doesn't even hear it. Doesn't hear it??? How is that even possible? It is like I'm wired to notice/see/hear EVERYTHING! And once I hear/see/notice it, I can't not engage. (I know, a double negative. Whatever.)

I have noticed this lack of gene in the last months when the girls have suddenly decided that everything the other does is purposely designed to RUIN THEIR LIVES. Like breathing. Or looking. Or existing. I'm pretty sure that the girls' bickering non stop is only slightly less painful to me than taking one of Hubby's power tools and drilling straight into my head. And as someone who can't let go, by the eighth hour of being awake and together with them makes me less than an ideal person to be around.

I think that if I can at least emulate the characteristics of the Letting It Go gene, every one's lives will be much better. Maybe I should go and re-read the Old Testament for a model of how God freaks out, then loves, and lets stuff go. You know, just for kicks and giggles and parenting help.

How does your garden grow?

At Christmas and my birthday I received seeds, books and other garden stuff. I dreamt and planned for weeks what I would grow and designed and redesigned my garden. Then we had the Noah's ark version of spring where it rained until mid June. Way past prime planting season. On the few dry days we did have, I planted peas, carrots, lettuce and Good Friday potatoes...most of which rotted in the ground. I lamented to Hubby that all that we would have these year was peas (which loved the cold damp), potatoes and garlic. All my seedlings that flourished in my warm, dry solarium succumbed to blight and rot when transplanted into the never ending rain,

Then, finally the sun showed up. And Bear and I got our first harvest! She was especially proud of her potatoes!

8 Years Old.

My first born is eight. 8! This may be one of my favorite pictures of Pookie. She is growing into such a beautiful girl, inside and out. She can be so kind and loving, thoughtful and generous. We are beginning to see glimpses of the woman she may be...Strong willed and articulate for sure, but also fierce and loyal. She keeps us on our toes with her intellect and desire to learn and know everything. She has faced challenges in learning this year with a good attitude and the desire to learn despite of it. We are blessed to be raising this girl!

Me and my Dad in Law

A couple of days ago I spent some quality time with my father in law...moving 6000 pounds of dirt, rock and turf. Good times eh?

Here's what happened. My sister and partner bought a house. The house has some ISSUES. The biggest one right now is the perimeter drainage. And let me tell you, I have talked more about drainage these past few weeks than I care too. Part of putting in perimeter drainage is removing all the dirt around the foundation of your house. Which, by the way, is a stinkin' huge amount of dirt! So for the past month or so, my sister has had huge mounds of dirt sitting in their front yard. Not so pretty. So on Monday, me and Dad decided to do something about it.

A word about my in laws...they are pretty awesome. I'm not gonna lie, when I first met them 15 years ago, they scared the sh@t out of me. They had come down to the ghetto where me and Hubby(who was not my hubby at the time) were interning. Shortly after that, Hubby brought me up to a family gathering. We walk in and everyone stops talking to look at us. This is saying quite a bit because Hubby's clan is LOUD! And there are a lot of them. To say that I was a little intimidated is a bit like saying giving birth hurts just a little bit. As we left the gathering, Hubby's Beppe (grandmother) and matriarch of the family looked me, grabbed my face, kissed me straight on the lips and loudly announced that she liked me, that I was good for Hubby and that I should come back. ( a side note, Hubby's clan are kissers...but that is a whole other post!) It also probably helped that I come from Dutch stock as Hubby's parents are 100% Dutch, off the boat as children. Of course, because my parents immigrated as adults, I like to say I'm actually more Dutch since I speak/understand the language and grew up going to Holland and Hubby went for the first time with me after we were married.

I digress.

So, Monday we announced to Mom and the girls that we are going to do the dirt moving and it shouldn't take too long. Famous last words. We head over to my sister with a borrowed trailer and start shoveling the first load. In about 45 mins we realize that this trailer is not going to work. But we had already loaded it with dirt. So I get on the phone and called a rental place, we head over there to pick up a new trailer. Then we need to take the dirt out of the first trailer and move it to the second trailer. Then we find out that the landfill won't take this dirt. So we have to find an alternate place. I find one, call them and get the address to dump the dirt. Not until we are driving around an industrial park do we realize that they gave us the wrong address. I call back and they are apologetic. They gave us their HQ address instead of the dump site address. Brilliant. Turns out, the dump site is just across the river from us, instead of almost into the city. So after almost 3 hours, we finally offload our first load. Back to my sister's house for the second load, did it in an hour. By this time we were already past our time that we had promised Mom and the girls, so we headed back to the house. It was empty, so we made lunch in 5 mins and booked outta there so we wouldn't incur the wrath of the girls and Mom. After loading up the third trailer full, we were both moving slower. We looked at the never ending pile and decided that it was just too bad, the rest was my sister's problem. The final tally from the wieght scales was 5989 pounds of dirt...which really is like us moving 12 000 pounds since we had to both load and offload the dirt each time.

Up until this point of our 13 year marriage, I have never spent that much time alone with my father in law. He worked a lot up until this past year as a big boss electrician building huge hotels and various other buildings. He is an amazing Pake (grandfather) to his six grand kids, a very supportive father to his four kids and three daughters in law and loving husband to Mom. He told me when Hubby and I got serious about getting married that not calling him Dad was not an option and that I needed to get over it. He is generous to our family and makes sure we know that we are an integral part of the clan though we are separated by 3 provinces. We share a love of reading and a competitiveness around card playing. And we bicker with each other a lot.

Hubby is a lot like his dad. This has become more obvious over the years, and now especially since Hubby is in construction. Watching the two of them ponder drainage at my sister's house made me realize what a good family I married into. Not because of their exceptional building skills, but because of their work ethic, commitment to family and faith and their enjoyment of life in general.

By the end of the day with Dad, we were speaking in the same tone and rhythm of each other and we still can't move without some sort of join and muscle pain..but I wouldn't trade my day with Dad for anything. Except maybe for a massage.

Made my day.

This morning as I was standing in line for my coffee, sugar and fat fix, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning behind me I was greeted with the smiles of 8 ladies. The one who tapped me on the shoulder was so apologetic for disturbing me, but they were dying to know where I got my hair cut. They were beyond cute in their enthusiasm as I told them that usually a little Swedish girl cuts it, but this time was a guy at the same salon in the village. They asked a bunch more questions as I continued to let other people go in front me of in the sugar/caffeine/fat lineup, then came the question that usually deflates the person asking...is your hair naturally curly?

This question around my hair style choice cracks me up EVERY SINGLE TIME! Because without fail, every woman that 'wants' my hair style has thin, fine, usually dyed, pin straight hair. Pretty much the complete opposite of my hair, so I usually end up shrugging and admitting to cutting the curls out of my hair. Then come the sighs and gasps that I would DO such a thing, then I admit to my general laziness around hair care which is why I have this hair style. Finally they let me go, but the one woman put her hand on my arm and said, 'We just needed to talk with you because you are so beautiful and we loved the way you looked this morning.'

OK, I know that I shouldn't be getting my self worth/esteem boost from other people. I should be confident in myself and blah, blah, blah. Truthfully, I was feeling pretty good this morning, considering I had less than 5 hours sleep, had already gone to the states for gas, did banking and it was only 7:15am. I was wearing clothes that are less mini van mom and more like 'feeling like a woman'. BUT, it seriously made my day to talk to those ladies. I'm pretty sure I grinned like a fool the whole drive into work while singing along to Mumford & Sons.

Then I ran into this article and this one and had to stop and think about how I feel about it. Sure, I don't want my girls to think that it is all about the outer appearance, but I do want them to be confident in who they are and what their bodies are like. But it is lovely to have someone, anyone, give a genuine complement. Such a tightrope we walk as females!

A wordsmith for a friend

I have a friend whose gift with words is quite amazing. Our connection started off a bit bumpy all those years ago in the ghetto when I was a lowly intern and she was a rockstar in ministry. However, I knew that I was making inroads when I gained the coveted invitation to her house to watch E.R. each Wednesday night. Having gone separate paths for years, we reconnected via the interwebs a couple of years ago. Lo and behold we had shared similar trying times in having tiny humans and in the realization that perhaps this parenting gig that we were so desperate for was actually the hardest thing we have ever done.

ACJ has written many posts that I have resonated with, but HERE is one you should read. (and read the one she comments on in the post). The crazy beauty of it all is the words of her mother...the gift of writing clearly genetic in her family.

Praying "the prayer".

Today at church we got to watch 2 young kids get baptized. Their parents gave very beautiful words of blessings and the kids gave their testimonies. Both recounted clear moments at ages 4 and 8 where they said "the prayer to ask Jesus into their heart". Pookie and Bear were sitting with some friends and one of their friends asked Pookie when she prayed the prayer. I could hear Pookie hesitating over her answer, while her friend was sharing that they had done it at age 4 as well. When Pookie couldn't give a clear answer, her friend began to ask WHY in that way that only young kids can do, which is basically, "it's SO EASY..." in that tone that all parents hate. Then I heard Pookie start to make up dates, "when I was 4 too...or maybe 6.." Finally I had to say something to defuse the situation, which was mainly to redirect them to the actual baptism.

Now, in NO way was Pookie's friend trying to make her feel bad. I believe that they actually couldn't believe that Pookie hadn't prayed the prayer because Pookie obviously loves God.

But Holy S#@t, did this bring up issues for me! The biggest one is the overwhelming sense of shame that I felt radiating from Pookie. That hurt my heart because I know the love that my child has for God. Before she left for Sunday school I grabbed her and reminded her that I didn't even know about Jesus until I was 14 and that we'd talk about it later. Of course that meant I've mulled over this all day and waited till bedtime to talk to the girls.

So we chatted. I let the girls ask questions about what they saw this morning, how they felt when asked about 'praying the prayer'. And that is when the rubber met the road...the girls were clearly confused about the perceived difference between Loving God as they did and the need to pray THIS ONE prayer.

I am realizing more and more how much the way Hubby and I 'do' faith is counter cultural to mainstream Christian church. I grew up in the family that did not practice any sort of faith, my journey began as a teenager. Consequently I have no baggage from childhood regarding church, but my first few years as a Christian were shaky at best. Like many in the early/mid 90's, I probably 'asked Jesus into my heart' at least a dozen times because my understanding of salvation was tenuous. Hubby grew up in a Christian home and feels that there was no one defining moment where he prayed the prayer, but rather grew in understanding in knowledge within the family unit. We both recognize that we really grabbed hold of our faith in our early 20's, though the years before were formative. So, we've never really had the conversation with the girls around praying a specific prayer. We have tried to live a faith filled life, have good friends and family around us and tried to teach the girls about following Jesus to the best of our ability.

Pookie wanted to have a defining moment and wanted to know the exact words she should pray to ask Jesus into her heart. So we gathered as a family and Hubby helped Pookie with the words and it was beautiful. Bear climbed into my lap and buried her head into my chest. I got her to look at me and asked what was wrong. She looked at me with tears threatening to fall and simply said, "I don't understand why I need to pray this prayer. I love God."

OH MY! I'm still pretty emotional while writing this. I just hugged her and put my hand on her heart and told her that she just needed to know one thing, she loved God and God loved her and that's all that matter. My girls have the purest of love for God, more beautiful than I can ever hope to attain.

So the question is, did I do a disservice to my girls by not using the language or teaching them about praying a specific prayer?

The Urban Hike

Buses, trains and ferries...that was our weekend. We had the opportunity to stay at a cabin on the Sunshine Coast; an opportunity I was supposed to miss because I was SUPPOSED to be in New York.

Anyways, we could have driven to the ferry, paid for parking and made the trip a hundred times easier on ourselves. But we decided to look at this trip as training for our world trip. Which meant we all had to find our backpacks and load them up with everything we needed for the weekend. None of us have proper hiking backpacks, the girls have their school one and Hubby and I have just regular ole backpacks. It was quite entertaining to figure out how we were going to fit everything. Thankfully we didn't need to pack bedding or towels, but we did need to pack all our food, paper products, clothes and assorted misc. items. I walked into the girls' room to find Pookie stuffing her pack with stuffed animals. I gently reminded her that she needed to carry her pack all weekend, WITHOUT complaining, so perhaps she should rethink the 15 stuffed animals and pack some underwear. I think she got it down to 3, of which she played with none our whole weekend. Once everything was packed, we caught a bus out of the village, then a train into the city, then another bus to the ferry terminal, then a ferry, then a water taxi to the island. All in all, about 3.5 hours of travelling.

We spent the weekend walking trails, freaking out at slugs and on Saturday afternoon Hubby and the girls helped build docks. That got us free dinner at the camp at 9pm and fresh cinnamon rolls on Sunday morning. Which was good since our options were KD and stale bread. (Hubby was in charge of packing food and 'forgot' to pack actual meal stuff)

Then the epic trek back which was closer to 5 hours due to bad connections between ferries and buses into the village. The girls were troopers and even walked home from the bus station to our house (about 3 km) with a little incentive from McD's. I was pretty proud of our little backpackers and am looking forward to doing more "training" in the coming months!

Thistle and Weeds

I know I'm behind the times with this group, but whatever...they are still on the top 10 list at Itunes. Which means lots of other folk are just getting them too. I'm a big fan of most of their songs, but this one seems to hit closer to home than most. I couldn't find an 'official' video, so here is a tribute vid:

It is official

The 'For Sale' sign went up yesterday...which of course meant that our stress levels went up through the roof as well. An unfinished bathroom reno+horrible Canucks game+a long list of To Do's= 2 terribly grumpy parents yelling at their daughters. It got so bad that the girls put on their pjs and announced that they were going to their room to play stuffies.

I eventually got myself together enough to apologize to the girls and read them 3 chapters of their bedtime book. But Hubby and I continued to go downhill and by the end of the night were barely grunting at each other.

On my drive in this morning I was thinking about the all the common stressors on a marriage, kids, money etc. I know my pre-martial counseling covered money stress, the importance of praying together and the pastor telling Hubby that if our marriage failed that it would be Hubby standing before God in judgement. Not super helpful or even very preparatory. I think if I ever got back into ministry/counseling I think my pre-martial counseling strategy would be very different. I'd have a To Do List for the couple:

1. Find the smallest car you can. Fill it full of stuff and go on a two day road trip. Ideally you'd break down somewhere and have to figure out how to fix the car with a shoelace and some duct tape.
2. Go to Ikea and buy a piece of furniture that has at least 20 pieces to it. Take it home and assemble together.
3. Tackle a major home renovation.

I'm sure that there is more I could add, but I think if you can make it past these three, you are on the right track.

It's a Dutch thing

Sometimes in life your culture comes up and smacks you in the face. You don't even realize that you do things differently until someone points it out. Today was a day like that. We'd been invited to celebrate friends' birthdays, a mother and daughter. As we entered the house, we brought flowers and said our happy birthdays to the respective birthday girls. And then we offered our congratulations to the parents of each each birthday girl.

Confused yet?

In the Dutch culture, you congratulate the mother of the birthday person. So you would say, "Congratulations on your son/daughter's birthday." Folks who are not Dutch think this is very strange...why would you congratulate the mother of the birthday person? But when you think about it, why wouldn't you? She was the one who brought you into the world, amongst much pain and labour. The birthday person was just there for the ride.

The good thing was that this was a Dutch family, though second and third generation...but there is a kinship when you uphold these little pieces of your culture and teach them to your kids. I kinda like it.

And as the Dutch say, 'If you ain't Dutch, you ain't much!'

Downward mobility

I've been mulling over in my mind this concept of downward mobility for a couple of months. I've resisted blogging about it simply because I don't want to come across as preachy. Or holy. Or as super sacrificial. Rather, it is simply a recognition that at this time, in this space and season of our lives, this path seems like the right choice for our family.****

So here goes...

Around Easter I was gifted with a CD from friends of ours. The CD, 'Under the Shadow' was written and recorded in their living room in a little cabin on a island off the coast. Tom is a gifted musician paired with a wordsmith for a wife, Karen. One of their songs, Unless the Lord builds is written based on Psalm 127. On one of my drives into work, this song implanted in my heart and I spent the day reading and re-reading this psalm. Then I began thinking of our family and what this psalm meant in relation to our lives together.

Without a doubt, having me work as much as I do has taken a toll on my family. I can see it in the girls and the odd time in Hubby. But I'd rather work than have Hubby do multiple jobs as he has done in the past. The reality is that though we have been blessed with the housing/life we have, it takes at least 1 3/4 of an income to maintain it. And that is living pretty simply in suburban terms. And to be perfectly honest, it is stressful...I know we are not the only ones like this.

However, what I began to realize is that we DO NOT have to live like this. Without a doubt, God has blessed both Hubby and I with great jobs and with great employers who recognize our desire to put our family first. So how is it not enough? Quite simply, our house is killing us. We make enough money to live comfortably if our housing cost was reduced even by 1/4.

And perhaps an even bigger issue was the fact that our beautiful and brilliant daughter Pookie is showing some of the same signs and challenges of a learning disability that Hubby has. Both Pookie and Hubby are very, very smart..off the charts smart...if you test them orally. Ask them to write or read and they both have a very hard time deciphering words. Hubby was tested in his mid twenties, but suffered through years of schooling that reinforced his weaknesses instead of his strengths. Now in graduate school, Hubby can often get better grades than I because his thoughts and ideas are strong.(and his wife edits his papers for him...she's a keeper that one!) Back to Pookie, the school has identified her as a student that extra help/assessments/support. The cost of doing all the testing runs in the thousands of dollars. And then we'd need to get her tutoring, 2 or 3 times a week, which would run hundreds of dollars a month. Since we are just making ends meet now, to add those costs into the equation would quickly drive us into the negative.

So, after weeks of praying through Psalm 127, Hubby and I have decided to sell our townhouse and go back to renting. (the story of our rental will have to wait till another post, but it is totally God-orchestrated!) By renting and downsizing our "stuff", we will be able to support Pookie in her learning, offer both Pookie and Bear the opportunity to try different activities like dance or art classes and allow us to save money for the future. And even to enjoy a coffee or dinner out guilt free! More importantly, it lets us rest and savour both the blessing of work and the blessing of family without one sacrificing for the other.

The scary part of this whole decision was letting our parents know. The general thought is to always move onwards and upwards, gathering assets as we go. And there is a bit of sense of failure that we cannot do that. However, both sets of parents have been INCREDIBLY supportive and we are so thankful for that. (I think telling them we were going to sell everything in 3 years to go travelling eased the shock of us selling now to rent. At least we aren't leaving yet!)

In the end, I can honestly say that there is a sense of relief and burden lifting. Hubby and I are different in many ways, but we've always viewed life the same way. In this season it is all about our family. Not about giving the girls everything they want, but providing everything they need. Not about working ourselves so hard that we have little to give each other, but working enough to give each other best of ourselves. And trusting that God honors that and that we honor Him through that.

***I was going to wait till I could articulate this in a poetic and winsome way, but that could take forever...so word vomit it is!***

An update.

I've been working on a blog post about downward mobility, but Hubby gently suggested that perhaps I needed to provide an update on the ongoing saga of my health...so here goes.

The bone scan came back "unremarkable".(This was the message from the receptionist) Which basically means no cancer, no obvious signs of joint degeneration etc. Good news I think, but it brings us back to square one in terms of figuring out what is wrong. It hearkens back to our infertility struggle when we were given the diagnosis of "unexplainable infertility". This is like "unexplainable joint pain". Frick! I wish my body would "woman up" and owe a diagnosis for once! But, apparently there is something wonky with my blood work. So I'm back in for more tests this Friday afternoon.

For me, I'm almost at the point where I don't care about an official diagnosis, but more about pain management. On a good day, I run about a 1.5 or 2 on the pain scale. The pain needs to hit about a 7 before I take anything to take the edge off. The best ever pain scale poster I've seen was on Allie Brosh's Hyperbole and a Half. (which you should be reading. all the time.)

Here is a normal doctor office pain scale:

Here is Allie's version:

Seems about right to me.

So there you go. Pretty unsatisfying eh?