In study and service...

I find myself.

This (and one other print) was my birthday present to myself (well, not really...my husband's sacrifice made it possible to go pick it up on our road trip Friday). I was so excited to get some new art that I put it up as soon as we got home. I already had frames and matting that worked since I was replacing some other prints that I have long become bored with. Like this image, they were religious in nature, but they were bought years ago when I was in "my home is supposed to feel like a church" mode. So I literally bought prints that I had seen IN church. Not a bad thing really, I just never felt really connected to them. So I have replaced them with what some would consider real art (though I'm not sure how one defines the difference) and I do, in fact, just enjoy their presence more. I still believe that home should be a sacred and safe place for a family to feel protection from the negative influences of the world, but I am happy that I have found a more expressively ME way of creating that feeling.

Because I LOVE this particular print and it just makes me smile to look at the image of Christ teaching both Mary and Martha in different ways and it tells me that all sides of who I am are important and have their place in my relationship with Him. At least that's what I take away from the story and from this particular rendition of it. Thank you Minerva, and thanks Mom for introducing me to her beautiful work.

Joy in the Journey

Sometimes I wish I were still a kid so I could request a a whimsical cake for my birthday. If I could still make silly requests, I would request this cake. In honor of my favorite animal growing up. But it would have to be a VERY delicious cake under all that fondant, because fondant is just gross, there's no way around it. Even kids eat don't seem to eat it. I found this picture while searching for birthday cake ideas, and it just seemed so fitting as my birthday is the only day that I really allow myself to be gluttonous. *Oink!*

And, on that note, we are off an a gastronomic adventure, with an overnight thrown in for good measure. I just really need to get out of my house for 24 hours. Road trip! From breakfast to dinner, I am going to try to enjoy myself as much as possible within the limits that my gag reflex has imposed. I'm planning on a good steak, and maybe some smoked Gouda potatoes au gratin. I hope my digestive system can handle it. The tums will definitely be in the diaper bag. And I am ending my special day with a flourless chocolate "decadense" cake from my favorite bakery. Perfectly dense, but not too sweet.

Happy Birthday to Me!

*I thought about writing a thoughtful reflection of the day of my birth and what another year means to me, but I've been serious enough lately and I need a break! No more long faces. I won't give in to the suffering anymore, and I am determined to enjoy myself! Plus, when you're pregnant and all you can think about is food (for better or worse), this is all that you can really focus on when it comes to celebrating a birthday. Maybe next year I'll take stock of my life, because by then, I hope that I will be able to handle the reality of what my life is quickly becoming. To another year!

What's in a name?

I just want to clarify a few things because of all the hoopla lately about whether it is a good thing or a bad thing to call yourself a Feminist, especially in the LDS church these days.

It would be nice to have a new name by which to call myself and the other women that feel as I do, but since there currently is not, I will still proudly adopt the term because I believe that any term is what you make of it and that we don't need to be threatened by the minority that has and continues to give it a bad rap. I know there are those that disagree, but I myself won't be afraid of a word and I will use my abilities to help influence what others will think of it in the future (if, in fact, a new term does not emerge).

So, yes, I am a Feminist. But I am a liberal feminist - which sounds worse than it is, but by definition is much more conservative than you would think. It's the radicals that have everyone's panties in a bunch. And I think I have forgotten how much I used to shrink from that word myself, so I want to let anyone know that reads this how I define feminism (along with many others).

1) I am NOT a man hater. I love my husband and respect him and the equality that we share in our marriage - meaning, that NO, we are not the same and should not BE the same, but that we have equal value in our separate roles. Roles that we have determined for ourselves and not based entirely on traditionally gender specific definitions. Men are an equally important half of society. I do not think women are better, I just don't think they are less. I don't like misogynists, but I don't hate them and I hope that they can learn new ways of thinking.

2) I do NOT endorse abortion except for in cases of fetal inviability, health of the mother, and rape or incest. But even in these cases, I believe that if at all possible for the mother to handle the emotional baggage of it, the pregnancy should be carried to term. However, even though I am personally against abortion, I recognize that in the world of legislation, a blanket ban might do more harm than good for the rights of women. I don't want women to have easy access to abortion, but banning it altogether would not put an end to the evil practice, and would put undo strain on the women who actually NEED abortions in rare cases to prove that they are necessary. The recent legislation in Utah proves what a dangerous slope it is to legislate that a woman must prove her intentions, or even miscarriages could be prosecuted as criminal offenses. This does nothing but deny women their rights, and it is not the solution. There is no win-win in the abortion debate, but my feminism does not necessarily make me pro-choice. Pro-responsibility maybe?
And, to be clear, I think that late term and partial birth abortions should not exist, and that women considering elective abortions need to see some of the horrific educational material on such practices. (though I'm a bit more alone in this opinion)

3) I believe that women in priviledged countries (such as the US) need to do what we can with our influence to support oppressed women everywhere (both in and out of such countries) and to educate others on the horrors of female infanticide, female genital mutilation, and all other forms of abuse. We have strong voices if we unite them, and we can't just sit back in our comfortable homes, even if we are happy with a patriarchy, because something that doesn't affect us isn't necessarily removed from our sphere of responsibility. Those women can't do it alone. It was the priviledged women of the past that fought for the women's rights that we enjoy the fruits of today, and we can't spit on their work by claiming the luxury of denying the label that they fought under.

4) I don't believe that there is enough equality in the workplace or in legal spheres for women, even in the US. Just because we are close doesn't mean that we stop fighting. There is nothing that makes that inbalance palatable. And just because we choose to stay home (which choice is a product of feminism) doesn't mean that we shouldn't support the rights of women who CHOOSE or NEED to work outside the home and get paid for their equal contribution. Not all women are blessed to have children or marry. What are they supposed to DO with their lives? (sarcasm) And why are they not entitled to full and complete equality in the work that they choose for themselves as a contribution to society and as fulfilling to their lives?

5) I believe the choices that Feminism has given us include the ability to stay home and raise children, and I still and always will believe that this is the best place for women to try to be if they desire to have a family. It is a natural and Godly role to play that part to the children you choose to bring into your life, either by birth or by adoption. BUT, I also recognize that there are women that cannot have this in their lives, either by choice or circumstance, and that even in families, sometimes the man is more suited to child rearing and nurturing. That's just how it is sometimes, and that's OKAY!

I'm sure there is more, but these are the issues that seem to pop up when women express their disdain for Feminists. Please, don't be ignorant. Don't stick your head in the ground out of fear. Do the research. Do the math. Read. Educate yourself. Don't believe me, and don't believe everything you "hear" about Feminism. Listen to your heart and do what feels right. And if at the end of the day, you really don't want to be called a Feminist, I am fine with that, because it is your CHOICE. I like having the ability to choose my life, and I appreciate the feminists that gave me that right.

It's International Women's Day! (or was...)

So...you may be wondering how the two are connected. Well, I'll tell you. I'm almost finished reading this amazing little gem of empowerment and little known medical knowledge, and I am thrilled to have found so much of what resonates with me on both a scientific and feminist level!

Even if you are not planning to give birth with the aid of self-hypnosis and relaxation breathing, and even if you are not giving birth anytime soon (or ever again, or ever at all) this book is a powerhouse of fascinating historic details of the plight of women healers, and what their persecution (even executions) did to degrade and demoralize the act of labor and childbearing. It takes you on a journey from when midwives were the most common of healers and birth was a welcome and happy experience - often void of pain, to the modern day (as in not TOO long ago) horrors of unconscious birthing advocated by fearful and misinformed OB's. Babies were actually PULLED OUT with forceps, as if the body couldn't possibly know what to do on its own. And do you know the percentage of MD's that go into obstetrics because they "were interested in surgery"?! I'm not saying there isn't a definite place and time for C-sections, and I know it is not an easy choice, but I am very much against the current model of hospital birthing where each "life event" is treated as a potential medical emergency - fully equipped with all the bells and whistles. I recognize that there are true emergencies and that the hospital is a great place to be in the event of one, but research shows that many of the supposed emergencies are created by the situation and fearful reaction of doctors and could be remedied without invasive procedures if there were more perspective and education and patience. Of course, I will admit that I DO like to be in a hospital setting for my births - but that's because I like room service and housekeeping and not having to deal with my own house for a few days. I'd take a birthing resort over a hospital ANY day.

So I am grateful for this book and the knowledge of empowerment it is trying to provide and perpetuate. The view of medical intervention (or lack of) that it conveys is very much in line with my overall view of the true necessity of a medical system - meaning that we rely on it FAR too much. But that's just my 2 cents on the subject. I know this is something that women (and men) have widely differing opinions on, but I also know that there are many women who have not yet fully discerned what it is they believe and desire on these matters. And for that reason, I will add my voice in defense of pure birthing and in support of removing the fearful expectations of it that we have created in modern society.

Read this book if you are on the line about these issues, or even if you are looking for a well written description of how to actually use self hypnosis and deep relaxation techniques for WHATEVER it is that ails you - it's not just for labor folks!

And now you know just how crazy and liberal I really am.

Oh, and March is Women's History Month. I'm excited to read a fascinating book that I have on the subject and further my education on the continuing oppression of women worldwide.

Egg Timer

Yesterday was in the high 50s, the sun was out, my tulips are showing their green (early?) and I just put up my spring egg wreath (like spring chicken?). Yep, definitely March - but no lions here. It's my birth month and I'm looking forward to the change in seasons like you wouldn't believe. I think it's my hope that somehow, the change will help me to shed the pain and suffering of the last 2 months. I need to find a way to enjoy this pregnancy, and if Spring doesn't bless me with a fresh resolve, what will?!

Only 19 more days of Winter...Happy March!

(This post was really just an excuse for a picture, which was an excuse to practice my photog skills - which have become somewhat dormant, and they need to improve if I'm going to capture moving objects for my new project here.)

Keeping it virtual!

Okay, I have to get something off my chest. And it may be pushing the envelope (ha!) so to speak as far as my normal blogging boundaries go, but I'm feeling edgy lately. So, here goes.

Why do we - and by we, I mean all of us on computers, so that means YOU! - feel comfortable in ignoring people on a virtual level? I'm not saying I'm not guilty. Oh no, I am waaaay deep in the guilt factor here, but then why does it bother me so much when emails and such go unanswered? I know I do it, and I'm sure we all do it (unless you have a compulsion to respond to EVERYthing you get in your inbox) but come on! I think the instances that really stick out in my mind and leave me scratching my head, are the ones where someone else initiated the email thread, and I respond appropriately, and then.....I never hear back from them!!! Isn't that a little like walking away from someone in the middle of a conversation? How does that not send a message?! And when it does happen, I don't feel like it has anything to do with the conversation itself or with me. I don't necessarily take it as a personal attack, but I still feel a bit thrown off by these situations.

Does anyone know what I'm talking about? Does this happen to you? Or am I the only one out there that people ignore?

I fully recognize the good excuses that exist for this phenomena. Too busy, too many emails to keep track of, email got lost in cyberspace....AND I sincerely apologize to anyone that I have personally done this to. I didn't do it maliciously. In fact, I'm sure I could legitimately use all the excuses in the book, but that doesn't seem to make it feel right. I guess I should use my own perspective to forgive the shortcomings of others. I'm not really any better at it I suppose. And I shouldn't be judging based on something so stupid. But what about the "too much time passing and then just figuring it's forgotten" excuse? Do people really forget about not having their questions answered? Am I just petty? I'd like to say that I do it subconsciously to avoid being the one in the position of having the unanswered email/comment - because that's not a fun feeling. But that doesn't make it okay, does it?

Tell me, I can handle it.

BUT, aside from me just being a judgmental whiner and pointing out something that EVERYone does and has become an accepted cyber-social norm, can I suggest that maybe it shouldn't be? That maybe this is part of why people feel disconnected in the midst of so many connecting tools? That maybe we could all work harder at not "walking away" and dismissing people's messages? Is that too much to ask for?

I'll do better, too, I promise.

Reflecting

On a recent walk through a downtown park, I marveled at how clearly the leafless trees and clouds were reflected in the puddles along the path. Even in a muddy, leaf covered, makeshift pond I could see an almost perfectly rendered image of the natural beauty around me.

As I continued on along the river that flows between parks and under bridges, I thought of what it means to be a reflection. And I thought, isn't it amazing that even in a puddle with sticks and other distractions to blur the image, where we wouldn't think to look for beauty, you can see such a clear reminder of what is above you?

And then, in my mind that is always searching for metaphors, I saw a beautiful reminder. We, too, in our perceived imperfections can be a reflective surface for something truly beautiful. I began to think about what it means to have the image of Christ in our countenance. I never really understood what that could imply on a practical level, but as I considered the visual lives of people that I consider to be close to God, I saw that they truly did reflect Christ in some way. I saw that their outside appearance, which could have been a distraction, was something that could be looked past to see the real image that lay right beneath their surface.

How many times do we allow a physical attribute of someone prevent us from seeing their true selves and how their lives are a reflection of the Divine? Does a tattoo, or a body type, or a choice in fashion make it difficult to focus on the image that is not immediately visible without a different perspective? I'm sure that I have let passing judgments halt my ability to see the souls of others - and I hope that I can learn to more easily see past the surface to what is reflected.

"A woman who serves"

We met with our Doula last night. I can't describe the relief I feel that I at long last have someone in my corner who finally understands what I'm going through and how to help me through all that is to come. With the disappointment of my last birth so fresh in my mind, it is a small miracle that I have found such an amazing woman to care for me this time around. She is perfect for me in so many ways, and I feel that we were brought together for a beautiful purpose. Not only does she live close by, but she is highly experienced, expresses herself well, is willing (if not eager) to be there for me for the whole pregnancy, even in the event of bedrest and complications. She has offered extra massages to help me avoid the early contractions that I experienced last time, and has even made me feel truly comfortable in calling on her for help with my children in the event of continuing illness. And her price is unbelievably low for all that she offers! I'm especially looking forward to the hypnobirthing classes. She is a Grandma with no grandchildren in the state, so she is highly attentive and committed, and just oozes a true spirit of caring. Why, oh why did I not have Doulas with all my other labors?! Obviously I'm quite excited over this gem of a woman.

And in the glorious tradition of serendipity, she is a member of a community choir that I had not previously heard of, one that has been performing in the valley for over 80 years! And when she found out that I direct our Ward choir, she emphatically invited me to join. And they especially need second sopranos, my forte! Oh joy of joys. I have looked for a choir to join since moving here, and though the timing may not seem ideal, I am hopeful that as I start to feel better and better that this will be a wonderful outlet for me.

As far as my good and bad days go, if this isn't a boy, I may be shocked, even though we are still planning on a girl. This pregnancy has been so strange to me. I am no longer nauseaus, but my good days are now followed by days that I cannot keep a single thing in my stomach. In the last 3 weeks I have vomited more than I did in any of my other pregnancies combined. And I don't usually see it coming. I'm normally so good at keeping stuff down, but my gag reflex appears to have given up. I've started drinking protein shakes at my sister's suggestion, but only because they come back up easier and the low glycemic ones don't spike my blood sugar (thanks to sucralose, unfortunately).

The worst so far? I threw up WHILE DRIVING yesterday. I didn't even have time or a place to pull over. But the good thing? Something told me to bring a bowl with me in the car on this particular trip. I've never felt it necessary before, but there is now a bowl permanently next to the driver's seat. So much fun, I tell ya. When will this end?! I know I'm only 12 weeks, but I swear this is worse than before. I'm not altogether sure the good days are worth it sometimes. I am so nervous and anxious over not knowing what the day will be like or if I will be able to eat. I am getting increasingly depressed over it all. I just want even, predictable morning sickness that gets a little better each day. Is that too much to ask?!!!!!

This is another reason that the Doula was such a welcome inclusion in my experience at this time. I probably shouldn't project so much on to the poor woman, but I think I love her!

In the bleak midwinter

I've been thinking lately that I should share my recipe for a tropical vacation in your very own home. I started this tradition last year in mid-January when I just couldn't stand it anymore, and now that I'm having good days to speak of, I find myself craving an indulgence once more. Of course, just like last year, I'm pregnant at this most depressing time of year, so maybe that has more to do with it, but I can't quite tell you the wonders of psyching out your senses when everything around you seems to scream of miserable cold and lifelessness. (It just feels like it will never end!)

So, on these days that I find myself slipping into self pity and spiraling down into the depths of despair, I break out my "kit". I even order the mango directly from Hawaii, because I haven't been able to find an equivalent anywhere else. Last year, I wrote on my family blog about my acquisition of a real ukulele. When we went to Hawaii for our 5th anniversary / honeymoon make-up vacation, I desperately wanted to bring home one of the $10 ukes that they sold in the little ABC convenience stores. But my husband told me it was a waste of money and I would be disappointed in how bad it sounded once I actually tried to play it. And then he appeased me by saying I could get an inexpensive real one when we got home. Well, it took me a while, but I took him up on his offer, and I spent last winter and spring teaching myself "Over the Rainbow/What A Wonderful World". Unfortunately, I never recorder myself at the height of my skills, and I stopped playing once baby number 3 came along. Of course, now I have to re-learn a good bit (and cut my nails completely off), but it will be so worth it to round out the tropical experience.

So, here is my prescription for the winter duldrums. Though it probably won't do anything for full blown seasonal depression - that's where my "happy light" comes in.

None of this is dependent on having been to Hawaii or even an island, but you should have a good idea of what bright, warm, somewhat humid sunshine feels like. And any experience where you found yourself happily surrounded by lush greenery is a good visual as well - even if it was just a greenhouse garden or botanical preserve somewhere. Use your memories to their best advantage.

Next, you need to stimulate all your senses to make that memory a pseudo-reality. Think, taste, smell, sound. I like to use the Hawaiian selection of Alba shampoo and conditioner the night before to jumpstart my senses. Then I get my taste buds going with Mac nuts and dried mango, but there are many options for you to choose from. Grab a whole pineapple as a special treat, or make some chicken teriyaki with rice (there's a great Kona Coast marinade that you can get just about anywhere). Then, I add my favorite scent of all - coconut body butter. Slather it on as if it were sunscreen. And then turn up the tunes of some popular island music. Iz kamakawiwo'ole is a good choice (and also my ukulele inspiration), but I'm sure you could get a great playlist off of pandora.

Then, just sit back with your eyes closed (in a warm, sunny room) and let your senses take you back to that memory of more summery times. Pretty cheap vacation, no? Have a great trip!

Oh, and the flower print mu-mu is completely optional. It makes you look pregnant even when you're not, so I wouldn't recommend that addition to your ritual unless you are expecting...it will only make you feel worse. If you really want to visualize yourself on a beach, I suppose you could don your bathing suit?

And you and me are...

Ah, nostalgia. Like a flavor you've had before but can't quite place because it's combined with new flavors. Masked but not forgotten, and then you remember and a slice of life comes back to you in a rush.

My mother sent this book to me and my girls for Christmas, and I can't quite describe the joy I feel at reading stories to them at night that were such a strange and integral part of my own childhood. On just about every car trip I can remember (round about at least twice a year to southern California) we listened to the old cassette version of Free to Be... and though we knew each story and song by heart, I think we were always too young to fully grasp the meaning behind each of the self-affirming and socially-educating tales.

It makes me wonder how my girls' experiences with them will differ as they are read with pictures for added understanding. From the tailored perspective of two babies in a hospital nursery detailing misconceptions about gender differences (quite hilarious), to the heroic Atalanta who raced her way to the option to choose the course of her life - I love having shared experiences with my children. And ones that teach lessons that are hard to find in today's society? Even better.

But, of course, the best part has been the stories that are songs. From the recesses of my memory, the music has flowed like a river of love washing over my children. I remember them all so vividly, and for the first time I am singing them with understanding! What fun! And my girls have even started to join me on the chorus lines. Don't you just love those moments in life where you can sit back and realize as it happens, that something is occurring that you will always hold on to and cherish? Me too.

So, if you've never experienced the fun that is Free to be You and Me, or Marlo Thomas' more recent collection Thanks and Giving All Year Long, let me suggest that you pick up a copy, or give one as a gift. Not only will you and your children (or grandchildren) benefit, but so will St. Jude's Hospital for Children and the Free to Be Foundation that carries these stories of cultural relativity and social justice into developing countries and helps them to become realities for growing children everywhere.

And don't forget: Ladies first. :)

Reading into it

Have you ever had a synchronous event that left you so shocked at it's apparent transparency that you feel there must be something that you are supposed to do in response, but you have no idea what? I've written about synchronicity before because I feel strongly that synchronicity can be a way that God communicates with us.

That may sound a little mythical, and of course I recognize that such a conduit can probably be used by darker forces to lead us away from truth. But in every experience I have had, my promptings or even my mere awareness of something that stems from a coincidence have been positive, and when I have acted on such, the fruits have been positive. I can have no greater evidence of good than that and because of such experiences I have learned to pay attention.

With this in mind, I had an interesting experience last week. I had just finished a book and was looking through my recommendation piles for a new journey on which to start. I have some great choices from my well read sister, and I just couldn't decide. Finally, after feeling strangely attracted to the above cover, I decided on "The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down" by Anne Fadiman. It's a sort of medical/historical anthropology that highlights the struggles of the family of a young epileptic girl against the backdrop of the cultural history of the Hmong people, but it is NOT boring and it is extremely well written. In fact, it is absolutely mesmerizing and on multiple occasions I have been found balling over one sad portion or another - though I don't think it means to extract such a reaction, I'm just hormonally inclined. To say the least, it should be required reading in school.

Anyway, the exact same day that I picked up the book, I had a hair appointment (one that was made before I even knew I was pregnant - AND neglected to cancel). I'm trying out an Aveda salon that supposedly uses less harsh chemicals and more plant based dyes. Despite feeling edgy and not having a proper dinner in me, I went ahead to the appointment. Among my reasons being the fact that I hadn't really been out of the house all week and was getting cabin fever (and sitting in a chair for two hours didn't sound like a BAD way to pass the time). So I took a pack of gum and went, book in hand.

When I got there, I was asked if I wanted some cucumber water. Sure? So a nice young woman was asked to get me some while I waited for my stylist. As I perused the assortment of Nepalese paper products on sale, the girl with the water asked me if I liked my book.

Hm? I was puzzled, and then remembered what I was carrying.
Oh! Yes, but I had only just started it. Had she read it?, I asked.
Well, yes, she said slowly, "I'm Hmong".

I stammered a bit as I choked on my water. From the little I knew so far, Hmong are rare in Idaho. Strange coincidence? I didn't think so, but I couldn't think what the reason for the synchronous connection could be. I hadn't read that much of the book yet, and she herself said she hadn't finished it. I questioned her a bit and remarked what a funny coincidence it was that I would run into her, book in hand. (I try not to get too weird on people I've just met). She didn't seem interested in continuing the conversation, so I left to sit and wait for my stylist. Of course, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else that was supposed to come from such a meeting.

In any case, I left the salon with a brand new hair color*, but nothing else to show for the cause of synchronicity. I'm not sure I'm giving up necessarily. After all, I'll be back at the salon again eventually. I just can't stop trying to figure out if I was supposed to do or say something more. Was the experience meant to open my eyes more fully to the messages of the book? Or do I have a message for this girl? Who knows. Maybe I'm reading into it, but I DO know that when I picked that book over all the others that day, something outside my own consciousness told me to do it. I know what that feels like, and I know the source.


*Thanks to the miracle of low-lights (nothing absorbed into my scalp!) there will be no more roots for me to grieve over...I've gone all natural baby! With my hair budget only allowing for every other month or so, and with my hair growing twice as fast during gestation, the darkness becomes quite unseemly. I'm not sure how long I will be able to stick with it, but I also hate getting treatments when I'm pregnant, and switching to my dark ash blond undercurrents has actually been a fun change - I've tried for so long to hold on to the tow head of my youth that my natural color still shocks me when I see myself. No one else has really noticed though, so I'm not sure what to think. I'll probably chop it all off and highlight again after the baby comes...isn't that what you're supposed to do in the face of life altering events?! I'm pretty sure that's the standard recommendation.

Expecting the Unexpected

With a 9 month old currently scooting around my heels, I can tell you that this pregnancy was almost as unplanned as my first. But I take a small measure of comfort in knowing that - barring any earth shattering announcement from heaven - it will most likely be my last. And let me tell you, on some days, that is the only comfort to be found. Unlike the picture supposes, we don't yet know what it is. But with 3 girls behind us, we're accepting the inevitable likelihood of following suit. It's the only way to be pleasantly surprised when all expectation is defied. Right now expectation is laughing in our faces, so we want to keep one up our sleeve - just in case we get a chance to take a hand.

Coming up on 8 weeks, I'm not yet in the clear, but with a fetal heartbeat and monstrous nausea rearing it's ugly head more often than not, we're optimistic that the road ahead will indeed be a difficult one. (The planner in me knows she can at least plan that!) I just had to get this news out of my head in order to make room for other, less restricting and suffocating thoughts. I want to think about things outside my currently tortuous circumstances and I needed to get this out of the way to clear the path. And wow, even typing takes a lot more energy than one would think...

In the end, 17 months apart (16 if she follows the early arrival trend) won't be the worst thing to befall us. But nursing while pregnant?! That's a different story. Each ounce that leaves my body feels like a gigawatt of energy lost. Gone from my reserves - never to be reclaimed as I grow weaker and weaker. Weaning would seem to be the smart move, but I think my body is finally doing that on its own, which is how I would prefer. I just can't cut my baby off! I have to put up a good fight, but it may end up being a battle I am destined to lose. I do love nursing my sweet babies for as long as naturally possible, but I just don't think my life force can support 3 of us right now - and it makes me sad. To be honest, I don't know how I've gone so long, but I've been grateful for the transition time - however long it ends up being.

And speaking of gratitude, I have one great husband. He's taken over the shopping and bulk of child care when I literally can't drag myself out of bed and he's worked from home much more than I know he would like to give me the time to adjust and deal with our new alternate reality. I know I couldn't and can't do it without him and I'm grateful for his patience (and his awesome sandwich-making skills!). Just 4 more weeks hon! (fingers crossed).

So, that's my story. I'm sticking to it until I hear otherwise or until life throws another wrench in the gears. At least we already know it's not twins!

Wild

I don't really believe in resolutions. Probably because they make me feel guilty when I let them slip by unfulfilled - but also because they don't really resolve anything in the truest sense. I do, however, like the idea of a moment of decision - a catalyst that propels us into the future with more haste than we feel at other moments. And sure, feeling like we have a chance to start over isn't all that bad. But I need those points of renewal more than once a year, so I forgo lying to myself with false promises and try to make each day better than the last. If I fail and fall one day, I can still make the next day better. It's not a steady curve upward, but I have to hope that overall, progress is made as I move onward.

At the close of this strange year, I'm looking back at all my moments and movements. The times that I took one step forward and 4 steps back. I'm thinking about everything I've learned about myself and this world around me, and I'm realizing just how much I have yet to learn. This year felt like I was building the first half of a bridge, but I still don't know where the second half will land me. So many efforts and situations lay unresolved at the feet of this new year that I don't know how I feel - or I don't know how I should feel. I guess I just feel unfinished, but that's how it should be and how it always will be. Even in the end of our lives we will be in transition. The ending that begets a grand beginning. We will still be working and growing and learning and stretching.

So I guess I feel how I would hope to feel. Aware of my shortcomings, glad of my accomplishments and grateful for the chance to do it all again for another year and finish what I've started. This will be a year of repeats in many ways. A time for me to try harder at some of the same challenges - to find new solutions to the same problems (I suppose that's a REsolution). But also, I hope, a year of being more at peace with my struggles as I work to overcome them and helping others to find a greater measure of peace with theirs.

Here's to a New Year! May it be happy, joyful, hard, humbling, stretching, restful, challenging, enlightening and full of more love. Love for God, ourselves, for others and for time and what we get to do with it.

Simulating

I'm not a big movie reviewer, but something just had to be said about my experience with "Avatar". On what has become a rarity, my husband and I went on a real date last night (sans baby). After dinner, I was begged and pleaded with to go see this movie in 3D. Which, admittedly, is the only way anyone should see it for it to be worth the major time investment. It was visually stunning, sure, but this is all I really have to say for the plot...

Think: Ferngully, Pocahontas, and Lord of the Rings, all rolled into one giant movie hole, sprinkled with a few Star Wars, Ewok-style battle scenes. Way to lift a story line, James Cameron!

And as we left the theater, all I could think about was what it would be like for Sigourney Weaver to narrate "Planet Pandora".

The heart of the matter

I was well reminded this Sunday of the effect that anger plays on our ability to be sensitive to the Spirit. I've been working so hard lately on giving up my hard feelings for all the things that I can't change. But it wasn't until Sunday that I saw some actual result in the way I felt, and not just in my actions.

As I looked around my congregation - at people that I felt judged by and that I was guilty of passing my own judgements on - I finally felt some of that charity that I've been looking for. The things that bother me didn't just disappear, but I was able to recognize that they don't matter - that everyone has their own issues to deal with regardless of what I perceive, and that I really needed to cut people around me some more slack. Whether or not it would change my actual situation was irrelevant I realized - it was more important that I stop my negative feelings from festering and cankering my soul. With them sitting on my heart, how could I hope to feel the spirit, of this season or any other?

So I let them go. For just a moment. And I felt better. Not only that, but I felt love. Love for the gift of the Savior and love for his example that teaches me to love others more than I love myself if necessary. Not an easy task, but one worth shooting for.

As I sat and pondered what my heart was being taught, I realized something else - something that the speaker said - that Christ didn't come just to suffer for and save us from our sins, but to suffer us in every other affliction we face in this life. And then it hit me! Christ knows what it's like to feel lost in a crowd. He knows what it's like to have friends not be friends. He knows what it's like to feel misunderstood. And he knows what it's like to live with the knowledge of a difficult path ahead. But he also knows that these feelings and situations are temporary and that even after the hardest trials, there is life that goes on. Even after death, there is life. His birth was a miracle, but so was the rest of His life. Our lives are reflected in His in so many ways - we just have to remember that He suffered just like we all do and will, and that He knows the power of redemption that comes in knowing why we suffer.

As I carry around my own unseen burdens I hope that others will allow me the same reprieve from judgments as I will try to do for them. It won't fix the world's problems, it probably won't even make me feel more accepted...but it will give me peace, and that's enough for now.

Going dutch

This is the last slice of my Amandel Kerstkrans (almond filled Christmas ring) - similar to a boterletter, which is shaped into a requested letter. It's a dutch holiday tradition in my father's family to have these around for Christmas (and sometimes into New Years if there is any left over). In the years since I have started my own family, I have wanted to keep this tradition alive. But in New Hampshire I was only able to order a small imported version of my childhood favorite. It was nice, but not quite the same. In the years since then, I gave up trying as it became harder and harder to find a source. But this year, after sifting through websites and redefining search terms, I found the website of the actual bakery that my grandparents get theirs from every year in San Jose, CA! (just a little south of where they have lived for 50 plus years) I was eager to place my order and did so with what I assumed was just enough time to get it here by Christmas. The website said to allow 1 and 1/2 weeks for delivery. So I placed the order and resigned myself to wait for the perfect delivery - a Christmas miracle.

But it came 2 days later. Fresh and inviting. It wouldn't last over a week until Christmas, right?! Of course not. The only sensible thing to do would be to eat it right away - albeit slowly. I managed to make it last a few days, and I have to say, I didn't regret enjoying it early. Not one bit. Of course, I told myself that it was my special treat because I wouldn't be eating any of the traditional Tea Rings that I would be making to bribe my choir members with - I was trying to stay off wheat and dairy- but alas, I couldn't resist a taste or two of those either. Oh well, tis the season!

I did manage to hold on to the Speculaas I ordered in the same shipment. I think it will keep until Christmas...

Hope you are enjoying similar holiday goodies and traditions that fill your home with warmth and a sense of connection to the past and future.