Into Serious Countdown Mode...

List made...check
Babysitter Wednesday...check
Babysitter Thursday and Friday...check
Babysitter on standby for Sat a.m. in case C wants to work out...check
Vision therapy homework miracle worker...check (Yay - it's K Kindhearted!)
Camera, phone & Palm Pilot charged...check
Last Sunday's Desperate Housewives downloaded from iTunes...check
Oil change...in process
Office Depot - 1 GB card for turning Palm into an iPod...on my way to do it now
Mail sister's birthday gift (a pillow that says Diva on it and 2 Wizard of Oz magnets)...on my way to do it now
Pack...oops.

Ta ta. One day to Cali, Two days to Buffett. Woo Hoo!

Was Will Farrell in my car again?

This morning's song is brought to you by little Erica, kindergartner:

I'm walllllkkkkinnnngg
Onnnnn a booaaattt
and it's nowwwwwing (as in: snowing, which it was not doing this a.m.)

And I've become one of those moms: I drive carpool wearing my PJs. How comfy!

One phone call can change it all

This morning, I woke up in a rather gray mood. Not crabby, not sad, just gray. Like the woman in the James Taylor song ("She said move me, move me. I'm locked up inside...She said make me angry or just make me cry, but no more gray mornings..."). There was nothing particularly wrong nor nothing particularly right either. Just a gray, blase day. So I pretty much wasted the morning away on the computer - that tends to be my default gray day activity. Then at 11:30, I took TT to his reading tutor and his vision therapy appointment in LaCrosse, 2.5 hours away. Our weekly 250 mile round trip trek.

I was stunned at TT's reading improvement and thrilled to see him do so well. Yay! Nine sessions into this 45 session endeavor and we're seeing more and more promising results each week.

Just at the end of the session with the reading tutor (as the tutor was telling me he'd rather work with TT unmedicated because he doesn't think he really has ADD...and he's basing this all on today's appointment where TT was really tired from a late bedtime last night and not taking last week's successful and medicated experience into account....don't get me started), my phone rang. Bad timing. I turned it off mid-ring then forgot about it.

Awhile later, as TT was gleefully and proudly making armpit farting noises and entertaining the bevy of kids awaiting their vision therapy appointments (he told me later: "You know, Mommy, it's so great, God gave me the gift of making people laugh." I love that kid!), I checked my voice mail and what do you know?! It was the assistant to the bishop saying he'd like to send my paperwork to a congregation and he anticipates they'll want to interview me next week or the week after. Then he told me about other options down the road in case this one doesn't pan out - I like that he always does this because it prevents me from feeling like the only opportunity for ministry is the one immediately before me.

Looks like I best be dropping off my dry cleaning before I leave for Cali.

The night only got better: on my way home, I received a call from Pastor Hospitable just because he was thinking about me and all the fun he used to have with C and I when he lived here. That made my night. Then, I checked my email and received notes from two faraway friends who I miss so much. I'm so thankful for friends - God has surrounded me with great ones.


Countdown to Buffett: 3 days!!!!!!!
Countdown to Cali: 2 days!!!!!!

Aaaawwwww...

I almost feel like a real pastor today. The little country church where I'm preaching each Sunday has always had a special place in my heart (I've gone out there on and off for the last 4 years), but today it was even more special.

Before church, as we gathered around the 50 year old woodstove to warm up (there's no electricity), we were chatting and I mentioned I wouldn't be there next weekend. The whole congregation (all 9 of them) sighed and were bummed. After the sermon, during the passing of the peace, I got a bunch of those gripping, extended handshakes with major eye contact.

I left this morning realizing that I actually do have a congregation right now. (smile)

She turned me into a newt!! A newt??!

Ok, nobody was actually turned into a newt, but who could resist the ode to Monty Python? By the way, off topic here, did you know Ben & Jerry just came out with a new flavor? No joke and it's yummy!

Anyway, back to the story. Yeah, the one that I hadn't yet started.

TT and I went to his favorite local haunt yesterday - The Fish Shack. You may recall that Gandolf the Great Frog died awhile back. TT has been worried that the remaining frog, Legolas, is lonely. After attempting to spend a fortune (well, $20 anyway) and being told over and over and over that a $20 purchase just wasn't in his cards, we began looking at frogs. Legolas' looming loneliness was the reason for our trip to The Fish Shack in the first place - afterall, who wants a depressed frog?

Well, this really cool, young, shaggy haired guy was working the fish area yesterday and he said to TT, "Man...you should get a newt instead. Like, we've got albino frogs and frogs like the one you already have, but newts are cool." Because I hadn't suggested it, TT was sold. Shaggy let TT hold a newt. TT was definitely sold now. And I have to admit I'm rather smitten with the little devil myself. He is awesome.

So here's the new addition to our family, Mr. Unnamed Fire-Bellied Newt who TT has been referring to as Buddy. But TT swears that Buddy is not the newt's name. CH suggested all kinds of Lord of the Rings name - nope, TT insists on naming the newt himself. C and I suggested Whitey. TT was not amused. In fact, he gave us that "who are you people?!" look. We love it when we have that affect on the kids.

Countdown to Buffett concert: 4 days....it's getting CLOSER!!!!!

Loser Mommy Chronicles

This afternoon was one of those loser mommy moments. It was an experience where I came face to face with the bumbling, disorganized mom that I am. I promised and re-promised and re-assured CH that I would bring the Greek honey cake to his TAG classroom at exactly 2:15pm. "I'll meet you there," I said more than once.

Well, the Hospitables are here with their youth group and I went down to be part of the ropes course festivities. I lost track of time. I sensed it was close to the time the kids would get home so I headed home. I checked my email, wrote a comment to little-brother-I-never-had mark and then it hit me. Oh crud! It was 2:40.

I grabbed the Greek honey cake from the fridge, drove like a bat out of hell to the school, and hoped the kids would still be in TAG. I screeched into the parking area, ran across the street and ran to the TAG trailer. They were still there! (pant, pant, pant) CH come over to let me in and greeted me with a grin. The look on his face said, "Mom, I still love you, but I knew I should've come up with another solution..."

I bumbled into the classroom, realised I didn't have a knife, any serving utensils nor any napkins. The teacher gave me that great teacher reply, "Yeah...I don't have any in here either." I ran over to the main school building, hoping to break into the cafeteria and was caught running in the hallway by two kindergartners. "Don't tell anyone I'm running in the hall, ok?" I pleaded. They smiled and giggled and then told their teacher somebody's mommy was running in the hall. Thanks a lot, girls.

I opened the door that I thought led to the cafeteria and ended up in the art room. Luckily the art teacher was benevolent and suggested I look for utensils in the teachers' lounge. I ran up the stairs, grabbed a bunch of napkins and a plastic butter knife and headed back to the trailer.

Trying to cut the honey cake with the plastic butter knife was not very successful. The pieces were mishapen and broken into odd pieces, but luckily 5th graders aren't very picky. Everyone loved the honey cake (imagine if they hadn't!) and wanted seconds. The teacher asked, "How long did it take you and your mom to make the cake, CH?" Umm....yeah....he made it with his dad because I don't cook. Mommy fumble #604.

After the cake, the kids were dismissed back to their regular classrooms and I apologized profusely to the kindhearted teacher who probably wonders how my children survive my fumbling parenting. I headed back to the car, ran into good ole Amy and shared my motherhood moment. Thank God she was there.

After the kids were dismissed and in the car, I apologized to CH who said sincerely, "It all worked out ok, Mom. I'm just glad you showed up. At 2:15 when you weren't there, I figured you were just running late like you always are. At 2:30, I started to think you'd forgotten about me. But then at 2:45, there you were. Everyone got their cake and liked it. It was ok, Mom." Yeah, the 2:30 comment is the heart-piercing one.

Ahhh, motherhood.

Paradise lost?

On October 13, 1990, C and I were married. It was a beautiful, sunny, warm PNW day. I remember my dad coyly saying to me just before we walked down the aisle, "I just love C." I giggled and replied, "So do I but why do you say that?" Dad replied, "Because he's the only man who has ever gotten away with saying 'no' to you."

At our reception, people were asking us when we planned on having children (can you imagine?! Please don't ever do this to newlyweds. Let them live in utopia for at least a day for God's sake). At the time, our pat answer was "we're on the 5 year plan. No kids, no pondering having kids for 5 years." This made some people sad. They wanted us to have kids right away.

During the first 5 years of our marriage, we used to drive through the neighborhood thinking there was no way we'd ever have a house in that majestic space. Over the course of those years, we also came closer and closer to the decision to never have kids. We even subscribed to a newsletter for couples who were childless by choice. It gave us all kinds of cunning responses and justifications for our near-certain decision. At the time, my sister-in-law even said she'd be praying for us. She loves babies, and she wanted us to have children. But I have to admit, it was weird to know somebody was praying against your own agenda.

Well, s-i-l's prayers were answered. I won't offer theological commentary on that. We bought our first house in 1994 and one day I was walking by the spare bedroom that would become CHs nursery and I had this overwhelming need and feeling to have a baby. "That room needs a baby in it," I thought. I'm not sure I've ever been so certain of much else in my life. This certainty is in the top 5 for sure. Poor C came home from work that day and I announced, "I need to have a baby" or some other definitive type statement. This threw him on his butt and he was left fumbling for words and responding, "I thought....we....decided....never....to....have....kids....." Poor guy.

The following December, we went to the Rose Bowl game (Go Ducks!) in Pasadena. I won't tell the story here without Cs consent but suffice it to say that something happened that caused him to change his mind. And, oh, get your mind out of the gutter...it wasn't that kind of something.

Anyway...the following summer, we began trying to get pregnant and well...we really didn't have to try. I got pregnant the first month we were trying. My apologies to all those who didn't have our kind of luck. C was floored once again - everyone kept telling him it would take at least 6 months to conceive. The following June, little Mr. CH came along, and, of course, changed our lives in wonderful and amazing ways. Three years later, TT arrived on the scene and the adventure has only become more adventurous.

Skip ahead 16 years from that fateful day in 1990. Here we are - married 16 years. We've had our challenges, our celebrations, our ups and our downs. We've been through counselling (best thing we ever did). We've been through tons of school conferences, IEP meetings, doctor's appointments, grief experiences, you name it. In 1997 and 1998, we faced the possibility that C might have a terminal illness and it took a year of limbo before a diagnosis was made. The diagnosis wasn't terminal, thank God, although it is lifelong. In 1998, Cs father died unexpectedly and we continue to feel that grief today. In 1999, we moved to our dream house in the dream neighborhood and swore we'd never move again. In fact, we hoped (or at least I hoped) our kids would get married in our dream house with the lovely staircase. Later in 1999, my call to ordained ministry appeared, although it wasn't until 2000 that it was voiced, discerned and acted upon. In 2000, I also fell down the dream staircase and began an 18 month journey that included misdiagnoses, surgery, firing of doctors, and physical therapy. In 2001, I began seminary part time. In 2002, my non-Christian spouse willingly and supportively moved to South Carolina so I could continue seminary on a full time basis. We pulled up all stakes, sold the dream house, gave up his well-paying career, and packed a Ryder truck headed for 3000 miles away. Then we did it all again 10 months later when we moved to the Castle in 2003 where we remain at least for now.

This morning, rather than a romantic musing about our 16 years together, our morning began with TT throwing an absolute hissy fit and refusing to eat and CH nearly falling asleep at the breakfast table (he was up too late baking that cake). Our frenzied morning included one battle after another with TT's short circuiting and not even a kiss because of my painful puffy lip.

Paradise? I suppose in some ways it never truly existed, even if we tried to convince ourselves that it did. I think paradise is discovered in small moments when time stands still: holding a newborn baby, watching your 4 year old graduate from preschool, travelling throughout the world, holding hands, celebrating an Oregon Ducks victory. Paradise is so eucharistic - the glimpses we experience are a foretaste of the feast to come. In this life, we get mere glimpses of paradise.

Our dreams and hopes have shifted over the years. Some dreams that came true actually ended up being more challenging than utopic. Other dreams not mentioned here were abandoned along the pathway. Unexpected twists and turns have popped up around nearly every corner, yet somehow we've lived to tell about it. If I'm going to experience the trials and travails that accompany life's fleeting moments of joy, I'm incredibly thankful that I have the honor of living them with C. His steadfast, steadying love has been an amazing gift to me for the last 20 years that we've dated and been married. For an edgy whirlwind girl whose creativity swirls, whose impulses pulse, whose moods range, and whose determination charges along at full speed, I'm a pretty luck gal.

Stuff I keep forgetting to blog

I've gone about 2 weeks without caffeine. I'm not even missing it, which is unlike all the other times I've tried to give up soda and coffee. Pretty awesome.

The lip continues to be mildly puffy but is getting better every day. The onset of cold weather will likely hamper its healing and cause more cracking. Grrrr. Blistex and I have become close friends. I entitle the picture on the right, "Mark and Skdo".

TT did his homework for me again today! This homework in a Castle classroom thing is great! Big bro, CH, helped a bit and is also helping TT study for his quiz about butterflies tomorrow. CH had the same quiz 3 years ago in 2nd grade and he still remembers the answers!!!! Ahhh...if only TT could learn by osmosis!

Tonight, C and CH are going to make a Greek honey cake. CH will take it to school tomorrow as his project for his Greek Gods unit. Yum! I'm going to make a menu of the ingredients in Greek (might as well find a way to use this obscure language skill).

Oh, and by the way, did I mention IT IS TOO COLD HERE?!

This is NOT ok

It's snowing. It's 37 degrees with an 18-27 mph wind. Weather.com tells me it feels like 27 degrees outside. And I don't mean 27 celcius. It is October 12. It is technically still Autumn. This is an outrage. This weather is obnoxious. It makes me crabby. I'm not ready for this.

My dad tells me it is 72 in Portland. I love Portland. I miss Portland. 72 is an acceptable October temperature in my book.

My mother informed me last night that it was 92 degrees in Palm Desert, California. That's 33 celcius. But with the brisk 11 mph wind, it feels like a chilly 86. That sounds just great to me.

The forecast for Santa Barbara next week looks promising. It should be around 70 degrees. I may just have to miss my return flight.

Countdown to Buffett concert: 7 days including today.

What I've learned about teachers

In my four days of experience as a para-professional (aka teacher's aide), here is what I've learned:

1. Time. Every minute counts, usually anyway.
a. When 1, 2, 3, 4, or 5 minutes are left in a time period, there is always something that the kids can accomplish in that timeframe. For example, "There's 4 minutes until recess. Please work on your spelling homework until recess time." This is a crazy phenomena to me.
b. Being a minute or two off schedule is no problem, being 5 minutes off schedule is problematic - even if all the clocks in the building are not syncronized and range within an 8 minute window.

2. Teachers love to recycle even a scrap of paper less than 1" x 1"

3. The teacher's lounge.
a. Teachers don't talk bad about kids in the teacher's lounge. Instead, if they talk about the kids at all, it's with compassion and care.
b. Probably less than 15% are welcoming and hospitable to a newcomer. The other 85% just kind of ignore you.

4. The majority of teachers (at least all the ones I've met) are dedicated, caring professionals that are great at what they do. Paraprofessionals tend to be a mixed bag, but the great ones are great.

5. Teachers, like Lutherans in neighboring churches, appear to all be related in one way or another to teachers in other nearby schools.

According to my watch, the time is now

Aahhh...these days don't happen every day. A new Jimmy Buffett album, what could be sweeter (besides Mark)? Upon first listen, it sounds great and makes me want to head to warmer weather.

I remember the album release in 1999. I went to my mom's group and my friend, Eileen, took CH home with her because I had an OB appointment. I got to the doctor and found out I'd been walking around 5 cm dialated. My doctor was stunned, shocked, amazed. I had only had one contraction that day yet somehow I was 1/2 way ready to give birth to TT. My first reaction, honestly, was, "Well can I run to Target to pick up the new Buffett CD before I check into the hospital?" Any Parrothead would be proud of me for this, any non-Parrothead finds it disconcerting. The question landed me in a wheelchair on my way to maternity ward. The new CD would have to wait until some benevolent soul bought it for me the following day. I think it was my mom....Mom, was it you?

Other miracles and gifts from God today:
In other news, and this is a miracle, TT did all his vision homework and his reading homework for me today. For those of you who don't know, I had gotten to the point of paying a local teen to do homework with TT because he flat out won't work with me. It becomes frustrating for everyone. However, KK is busy this week and on my mad rush to work this morning, a thought occurred to me: why not try using a classroom at the Castle? Less distration, no alluring TV or gameboy... Well, much to my suprise and thrill, it worked!!!! TT was so proud of himself! It was wonderful to see. We treated ourselves to Cowtails. YUM! When we finished, I think he told the first 10 people he saw. I love this community! They all cheered him on and congratulated him. It was great.

The job continues to go well, although I was 20 minutes late this morning (due to carpool). Yeah, imagine a bunch of teachers and school office staff when you show up late for work. It's worse than trying to pull off the "dog ate my homework" schtick. Is that how you spell schtick? Come to think of it, is schtick even a real word?

Countdown to Buffett concert: 8 days including today

I love my new job! I love my new job!

I'm really digging this substitute paraprofessional gig at the school district. Last week, I worked with kindergarteners (they are SO adorable!) and today I worked with 5th graders (who are also adorable but would die if you described them that way). The schedule is so great - I leave when the boys leave and I get home just before the carpool arrives. What could be better?

The Lip - 3 days later...

It looks like I'm allergic to yet another antibiotic (that now makes 3...this number has me worried). The puffy lip is only a little puffy now but the inside is full of teeny, tiny open blister-like owies. I'll spare you a picture of this amazing development.

My husband just called me "Puffy"

I went to my Physician's Assistant on Thursday and left with a myriad of medications. Yesterday, my upper lip felt weird but looked normal and I didn't think much of it. This morning, my upper lip is a good 3x it's size! The lower lip, just so everything looks ridiculous, is normal sized. C thought he was being funny (yeah, and I guess he was) when he said, "You're supposed to get both lips done, Puffy!"

I called the 24 hour nurse line - ends up I'm allergic to something but there's no knowing which of the 3 (there's that number again...). I'm just supposed to stop all of it and re-introduce the meds one at a time beginning on Monday.

I really hope the swelling goes down by tomorrow morning. It's hard to be a credible preacher with one puffy lip.

Living in limbo

The dream congregation that I’ve been waiting to interview with for the last month has completed their paperwork but isn’t interested in a “first call” person at this time. The synod is telling me that there's a strong likelihood that I may still interview there but not to get my hopes up. I guess that leaves me hopeful but not too hopeful. I'm not sure what to do with their words.

My call process seems to have involved such deep amounts of trust, wondering, and waiting. On a down day like today, I have to admit that those qualities are becoming tiring and depressing. Should I push for other interviews? Should I just put up and shut up? It's difficult to know how far to lean back into God's trusting arms, and it's difficult to know at what point I'm expected to make some sort of move. Quite honestly, I'm not even sure what moves are possible if I were to make one.

This all becomes compounded as I work 3 jobs, watch the debt load continue to mount and can’t afford to pay the rent. Yet, at the same time, life is not all bad. The boys are doing great in school and have fantastic teachers, C continues to work for a great company, and we’re surrounded by lots of love and friendship in our long-familiar cul-de-sac. I love my jobs even if I am constantly on the run. The good things seem to compound and confuse the situation too. Even more strangely, what I most hope for will actually create upheaval for the rest of my family - they're good now and I'm struggling versus I'm good and they're grieving and readjusting.

Life has become such a limbo existence. Really, we've lived in limbo since late February and 8 months is a long time to live in limbo. I feel like I can only make plans into the following week, because one phone call could change everything. In a blink of an eye, everything could change dramaticaly. It would be nice to plant some more permanent roots somewhere and to have just a small measure of predictibility in my life. I'd settle for simply knowing I no longer have to remember to add today's mail to the list of places that will need to be notified of an address change.

I suppose in some ways, living in limbo is a reality of life for anyone at any time. We never do know what the future holds. We never do know when or if we might receive a phone call that changes everything. Nonetheless, most of us do not live with the looming awareness that such a phone call is for sure coming at some unknown point in time.

I've been told to "live in the present," which sounds like great spiritual advice, but on a day like to today, the message only frustrates me. How do I turn off the awareness that one phone call could change everything? Does living in the present mean I should pack another box because I've got all the time in the world or does it mean I should unpack what's already in boxes and fully dwell here until something more is known about our future days and adventures? Does living in the present mean doing something about this hellish limbo reality or just doing the dishes?

Can you make me float now ???

Remember the Applebee's story from August? Well, we went there again tonight and the same magician was going from table to table. The magician came over and said, "Well what tricks shall we do tonight?" and TT replied, "Well, last time, you promised me you'd make me float next time you saw me..."

Man, that kid has the memory of an elephant!

More internet fun

You Are Impressionism

You think the world is quite beautiful, especially if you look at it in new and interesting ways. You tend to focus on color and movement in art. For you, seeing the big picture is much more important than recording every little detail. You can find inspiration anywhere... especially from nature.

What Art Movement Are You?

Check out my sidebar...on one "Yeah, I know you can tell I need a life" afternoon, I did a bunch of these. They are addicting! Even C got hooked when I showed him.

Oh...my...I can't believe people live like this

This morning, I had a 2 hour training stint with a potential client for what some have come to call my taking-care-of-old-people job. One of the people who works with this client showed me the ropes. We'll call the client Bre (as in Desperate Housewives) and the worker Saint. I feel like I just had a glimpse into what the 63rd season of Desperate Housewives might be like.

Bre has very, very specific expectations. Certain foods are placed before her at breakfast time and only after those are eaten is the rest of breakfast prepared and set before her. Everything is measured to the nth degree and glasses are filled to specific heights. Saint happily goes through all of these details with a Edith Bunker "well whatcha gonna do" charm.



It just gets worse from there. As I learned the following details, I went from feeling like I was in an episode of Desperate Housewives, The Senior Years to a scene from Sleeping with the Senior Citizen Enemy. The pillows on the bed are each separated by a handtowel and must barely go around the puff of the pillow. Doors must always be kept closed and locked. Lights must be kept off unless currently needed. Every morsel of food has a specific place. Cans must be stacked neatly and in order and labels must face outward. Food that is thrown away is wrapped (!) before being put in the garbge can, and, get this: plastic grocery bags are folded! and put away in a closet for later use (note: the bags cannot be folded on the kitchen counter - only downstairs) Also, the garbage bag from the kitchen cannot touch the kitchen floor. No kidding. I cannot begin to tell you how many times I imagined bringing TT over to Bre's house.

Yeah...so when the working-with-old-people office called me to ask how my morning went, I told them I had to be honest and share my feelings as noted in today's headline. After all, if we're going to categorize based on the Desperate Housewives type inventory, I'm mostly a Lynette with a dash of Susan. I'm completely, definitely, certainly not a Bre (years of therapy erased any trace of that possibility, thank God!), nor am I willing to work for one. I'm not that Desperate.

Waiting

I met with my Super Amazing Spiritual Director yesterday. She and I came to the conclusion that waiting seems to be my theme (God's theme for me?) lately. Waiting for a call...waiting for answers...waiting for clarity. This waiting gig is a really tough one for me. In Midwest Nice, some would say I'm a go getter, a girl who is full of energy and zeal, ready to take on the world. In the PNW, people would call me impatient and maybe even impulsive (who, me?!!). In the South, they'd probably just call me strange and different (after all, I don't think we ever got a "fast food" order in our 10 months in the South in less than 10 minutes! From my limited experience, the words 'fast' and 'South' just plain don't go together y'all).

My SASD suggested I find some kind of talisman or trinket to center me during this time of waiting and to remind me that great things will come from this seemingly desert time. I stepped out of her office and found a magnet that said, "Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly." I couldn't believe it - it was the first thing I saw and it was so fitting. Some would say this was evidence of the Holy Spirit. I usually love to believe such an idea but sometimes I have to wonder if the Holy Spirit actually has time for such little acts as to point out a magnet with a meaningful saying.

This week, I'm also waiting for the Brink of Disaster to come visit. We're going to have a campfire on Thursday night just in his honor. YAY!

Caffiene-free Day 3

Today I finally woke up with energy. Yesterday, the withdrawals were still running their course - I think I slept about 20 hours....if this pastor gig doesn't work out, it looks like I'd have options as a lion. I think they sleep about 20 hours a day.