tid bits.

I’ve been a bit spoiled this past week. Our house will be available in two days, and in the meantime, we’ve been staying in hotels. This means I don’t even have to make the bed if I don’t want to. (I do.) It also has meant a nice clean pool to play in each morning, or afternoon, or whenever it seems like a fun thing to do. My daily schedule has included a short walk to obtain a cup of coffee (either here or, of course, here), a swim/splash fest in the pool with Jameson, exploratory walks where we shop or swing or just sit and nurse, depending on what we discover, and naps. Plenty of naps.

This is not, I realize, the hard life.

That said, I am definitely looking forward to starting a “real” life. One that will include a house, home-cooked meals, a private backyard, and routine. Routine. Goodness, I love routine.

I have plenty of pictures to post, but my connection, via hotel, doesn’t seem to want to authenticate my flickr uploadr — and I refuse to spend two hours browsing and uploading one at a time. So. They’ll have to wait.

The forecast for the weekend? Highs of 71, perfectly sunny. Not bad, eh? (Ask me what I think in October, when the forecast is still highs of 71 and sunny, while you all are enjoying the smells and sights of autumn in New York [or wherever you’re reading this from.])

I’ve been watching SO MUCH Food Network. Holy cow. I should have a culinary degree by the end of the week, I think. But I’ve also been reading 1 John. (Not as much as I’ve been watching Emeril, if truth be told. Gotta work on that.) I’m just reading it through right now, doing the “big picture” thing. Every now and then I find myself tuned out, because the words are as familiar as Mother Goose rhymes. Other times, I find the words suddenly becoming the memory of a Psalty song (“Beloved, let us love one another. love one another…) But however lousy my mental discipline may be, I’m getting the “people who know God should LOVE” message loud and clear.

Sort of.

It’s funny that it wasn’t until 2.5 times through 1 John that it occurred to me that all of this love stuff probably applies to my relationship with Ryan. Huh. Go figure. I am so used to reading this book and thinking about “the brethren” that I forget that these challenges hit much closer to home (or should.) It’s not just “the world” that should see in my love for them God Himself; it’s Ryan, too. I’m smart enough to know that Ephesians 5 applies to me as a wife; it’s all the rest of the Bible that I sometimes forget about.

We’ll work on that, too.

we’re here.

Hi!

We made it!

Friday evening found us landing in the San Francisco airport, a bit harried, a lot tired, and mostly happy to see Daddy.

My thoughts on the flights:

1. I can’t complain. I didn’t get sick, and Jameson didn’t fuss for even a second the ENTIRE DAY. What a kid.
2. Nonetheless, I found myself wanting to complain. I just don’t like flying.
3. Reminding myself, while running through O’Hare with a heavy baby on my hip and trying to steer a heavily-laden stroller with one hand, that my mom would think of this as an adventure, helped me smile. Even through security, which surprised every guard there.
4. Although I don’t condone handing off children to total strangers, I will say that exceptions can and should be made. When I got through security and had to (with one hand) assemble my collapsed stroller, position the carseat, put the laptop back in the bag, put two bags over my shoulder without dropping the contents which had been hastily stuffed inside, and put my shoes back on, I decided to say yes when a kind lady from the next line over offered to hold my baby for a minute. (I realized later that that one minute was the only time, for 10 hours straight, that I was not holding Jameson. Wow, I am sooo ripped.)
5. Last thought: I dread going home to visit. Maybe someday, when I’ve mastered packing and baby-balancing, that dread will dissipate.

But enough with planes and airports. How ’bout some California?

Saturday we did some traipsing. Sunday, too. Ryan is a great traipser, and I think it’s one of his favorite thins to do. So far, we’ve done downtown Los Altos (cute shops, yummy breakfast), Santa Cruz (too touristy for my husband who likes to remind me that he grew up on the ocean and doesn’t do public beaches), San Jose (where we overheard a girl walking out of G*cci: “Oh m’gosh, what a great deal! It was like $1725!,” and we’re pretty sure, judging by security guards at the door of the store, that she didn’t mean $17.25), Palo Alto (more on that later), and Halfmoon Bay.

Lots of sunshine and lots of togetherness for this little family of three.

*sigh*

We love each other.

Moving along…

Monday was our 2nd anniversary. Ryan had a gift ready and waiting, and, in true Ryan-style, it was killing him to have to wait till Monday to give it to me. Lucky for him, Jameson spit up all over my clothes right before leaving for church on Sunday, and Ryan whisked out his gift bag, ready to save the day with a brand new outfit. Usually I’m not okay with early gift-giving, but in this instance (new clothes, that is), it was fine by me.

Oh — so, Sunday was church. Hmm. I’ll run out of time if I write about that too much. Suffice to say, I met a really friendly couple, and we’re going out with their family next week after church, at which point she’ll grill me about homeschooling. I really liked her, and I’m looking forward to getting together.

Back to anniversary: Sunday night was coming to an end, and with it, our special weekend together. Monday morning, Ryan would go to work, and my week in the hotel with Jameson would begin. I was a bit sad, that’s for sure. So was Ryan — I thought.

Until he finally told me, as the night was coming to a close, that he had taken the day off so we could celebrate our anniversary together! Ooh, I was so excited! Another day of “vacation”!

The whole day would be a surprise, however. He only told me be ready to leave by 8am.

The big surprise was unveiled as we drove into Palo Alto and stopped at a very chic spa. Ryan had set up an appointment for an hour of massage, preceded by time in a private jacuzzi/sauna room. Oo-la-la. I felt like Fancy Nancy! (Sorry to all you who only have little boys. I’m sure you haven’t read that book.)

So the boys drove off, and Jameson cooperated with the plan by sleeping the entire time I was at the spa. I did, too. Well, maybe it was wasn’t full-fledged sleeping, but I was definitely relaxing with my eyes closed, drinking in every detail of the teak jacuzzi, the water spilling over smooth brown tile, being pampered and spoiled and quiet for a whole hour… I’ll tell ya, I wouldn’t think of myself as a spa kind of girl, but I figured out how to enjoy myself, that’s for sure.

Anyway.

After eating our umpteenth meal at Whole Foods, we headed out to Halfmoon Bay. (Is it one word or two? Not sure…) It was a gorgeous drive, although nothing beats Big Sur. Trust me. The temperature at the Bay was wonderfully refreshing. The shops were darling. The company was perfect. Although we didn’t spend gobs of time there in an effort to beat rush hour traffic, we did mark it as a place to revisit.

The only sad part about our anniversary was that I was counting on Ryan being gone all day, thus giving me an opportunity to buy him a card and such — since I hadn’t had much of a chance in the weeks preceding our move. But, no worries. I’ve since rectified the situation, and tonight he’ll get a belated anniversary token from yours truly.

Ryan is fabulous. After being away for a month, I’m finding renewed appreciation for him. We arrived to a neat and tidy hotel room, where his clothes fit nicely into the drawers, and his one piece of luggage was tucked away, out of sight. No longer. Now we are three, and I packed gobs and gobs, knowing we’d be without our belongings for quite a bit. I’m very aware of how much more difficult his life became the minute we landed at the airport — but he assumes his role as husband and father without complaint. Now there are bags to be carried, a baby to be hushed, less room in the bed, more food to be bought… It goes on and on, and you all know the little but constant services required of a dad. Well, I love him for every one. He’s a great guy.

Do I miss home? Well, my dad always said there are no dumb questions, but if there was, that would be one of them. However, I’m sure there will be plenty on that topic in upcoming posts. For now, I’ll just say that I woke up Saturday morning and asked Ryan, “Is it okay that I’m already homesick?”

But that’s all for now. Thanks for reading!

thoughts.

Jameson is asleep beside me, on “his” side of the bed. I’ve loved having a little bed-buddy while Ryan’s been gone, and he seems to like it, too; he’s been sleeping more and more (in other words, waking up fewer and fewer times!). There’s something special about watching him sleep next to me. His little baby face, framed by chubby baby arms, causes me to pause, every night, and cherish. He won’t always be a baby, his breath sweet and skin soft, cuddled next to me in bed. This night — this one right now — is a gift to be savored.

Thank You, Lord, for this gift.

Today I packed only one box. The rest of the day was spent here at my parents’, just living life together. After lunch, Mom, Bri, and I tied on aprons and worked on little treats for a party this evening. (Bummer! I didn’t get any pictures! Oh well…) Pretty and fancy desserts, yummier-than-yummy puffed pastry morsels — fun. Special. Together.

Then this evening, after little ones were abed, friends arrived to bid me farewell. We sipped iced tea on a pretty porch, lit by oil lamps and candles, and enjoyed the long evening surrounded by beautiful gardens and the laughter of friendship. There were gifts and cards and remember-whens. Pretty dessert with oohs and ahhs. Strengthening prayers (Wow, Lord. These women have listened and remembered the prophetic words I’ve received? They have really loved me that much? forever! Probably we can forgo the introductions, but I am planning on a very enjoyable weekend of being a little family, all together, before he goes to work Monday morning and leaves Jameson and me to discover our new hometown.

Thankful. Excited. Blessed.

[Thanks, Mom, for a special evening, and special hours of preparing. I’m going to miss you.]

june 19th

:: 2 days + 1 morning = how much is left of my life in Madrid.

:: I was so, so very blessed by the send-off at church on Sunday. So blessed. So overwhelmed. So very… surprised?… by the expressions of love and appreciation, although I don’t know why. I’ve only ever been encouraged and valued by my family at CFC. I feel extremely blessed to have grown up in such a congregation.

Several people offered testimony to how God had used me to minister to them in some way over the years — things that made me think, “Really? God used that?” And isn’t that just cool? Isn’t it really gracious of God to every once in awhile let us glimpse the harvest of seed we’ve sown?

After thinking about all that was said, I realized that God had kind of said, “See? I told you so.” For the last few years (or maybe I should say more like 10?) I’ve felt challenged to just serve wherever I am able, and not worry about whether or not I’m “missing God.” I felt like He was asking me to just be faithful in Today and trust Him to weave all of those Todays into something effective and worthwhile. And I’ve done my best to do just that — but sometimes it’s hard, and sometimes you wonder if you’ve missed out on “real” ministry. Sometimes you wonder if God asks you that just to teach you a lesson of being poured out.

But God is not mocked, right? Seeds bring harvest.

And so, for the future, I feel encouraged to once again put my hand to the plow and love the Lord by loving those He puts in my life, and serve the Lord by stepping forward to fill needs. He knows what He’s building, after all, and I can trust Him

:: My mom is awesome. Her 9 kids are spreading her thinner and thinner. Someday, when I have 5 little kids and feel like I might pull my hair out, I’ll remind myself that having 5 little kids is, in many ways, not so bad. Try having 5 big kids — one of whom has her first baby and is moving and needs help, lots and lots of help, another who has 3 little people and is on modified bedrest and whose husband has placed her in your capable hands for 3 weeks while he’s away, and another who’s in a show this summer and needs you to come and play accompaniment for a rehearsal, and another who’s — well, actually, #4 is pretty low maintenance –, and another who’s overseas and probably would appreciate hearing regularly from her mother. Oh, and then add 4 more kids onto that, one of whom is graduating from high school next year and needs to know what to do next, and three more who are at home and need your undivided attention, because, well, because they’re you kids.

Whew!

I look at her and realize, God’s call doesn’t usually include a retirement plan. In fact, we just keep giving and giving and giving, dying, and dying, and dying. Subtly, deep in my sub-conscious, is this notion that someday we get to kick back. But that’s not really in the Bible. It’s just not. And I so deeply admire my mother, and others like her, who are actually taking it up a notch when the culture around them says it’s time to be indulgent.

And as I look on, observing that this is sometimes hard, and yet they do it anyway (and with joy!), I am so, so convicted. I do not want selfishness, laziness, or popular thought to keep me from serving the Lord with great fervor until the very end. No, I want to be like mom, holding grandbabies and teaching 3rd grade English and everything in between — wholeheartedly. I want to know, like she knows, that the sacrifice is worth the eternal reward.

:: I have so many other things to write about, but they are officially waiting for another time.

nine months.

Today Jameson is 9 months old. (Well, yesterday, technically, since this post is going up a few minutes after midnight.)

To commemorate, we had a little photo shoot in the backyard — and then another one with Liz in the park! TONS of pictures!! And all of my favorite little subject.

I don’t have anything new to report on this momentous occasion. He’s just cute as ever, still getting bigger, and captivating to watch as he learns and develops.

And in just one week, we’ll be with his daddy. That’s pretty special.