Things I Dread

1. That moment right before the shot needle plunges in.

2. Splashing cold water on my face first thing in the morning.

3. Confrontation.

4. Surgeries.

5. Getting the kids ready for bed.

6. The boys waking up way earlier than I'm ever ready.

7. The alarm clock.

8. Getting family pics made.

9. Police cruiser lights in my rearview mirror.

10. Taking tests.

11. Shopping for clothes.

12. Going to the DMV.

13. Long lines.

14. Waking Noah. I would rather wake a sleeping momma bear by stepping on her cubs' heads.


15. Saying goodbye to my family when I head back to South Africa in five days.

That last one is the hardest of all.

No Dreaming Here!

It's Christmas Eve and we've had a couple of Christmas miracles.

First, is this...
It was in the mid-70's yesterday. We are now several hours into this falling snow and our temps are in the 20's. Welcome to Texas, y'all.

It's the first time in over 80 years this area has had a white Christmas.

The second miracle of note was that the boys went to bed without any arguing or stalling. Any parent can appreciate what a miracle that truly is. Noah was in bed in exactly 2.8 seconds. And I think he may be giving himself hives over the fact that Brian and I are still awake. We've been tracking Kris Kringle via NORAD and when Noah proclaimed that Santa was on the southern tip of Texas, nothing in us desired to tell him it was actually Argentina and that Santa still had a ways to go. When a kid's actually motivated to get in bed one of 365 days, why fight a good thing? Merry Christmas to me.

This is our first Christmas Eve to spend as just the four of us. Tomorrow, we'll wake up to our own Santa gifts and enjoy a new tradition of spending Christmas morning at home. As part of that tradition, we read the Christmas story at bedtime, stripped of any jolly old men, merry little elves or toys made in China (do kids ever notice that?!). No, this was the original and true Christmas story - simple, signed into Old Testament prophecy, sealed in the form of a little baby and delivered with love. The very best gift ever.

But Noah, in all his panic, didn't think we had time to read AN ENTIRE BOOK. It started off well enough, with Brian asking the boys what Christmas is all about. In the Christmas video at school, Tyler enthusiastically replied, "Opening presents!" while Noah solemnly stated, "Jesus." I suppose Tyler has come a little way since then, as tonight's response was, "Giving presents." And, when Brian asked Noah what happened to Jesus that we celebrate at Christmas, his answer was, "He died on the cross."

Holy cow. Are these the two same kids who are at church twice a week and who attend a Christian preschool?!

Anyway, it about killed Noah that we had to read AN ENTIRE BOOK while Santa was still wishing Feliz Navidad to some kids south of here. So, in protest, this is how he spent our special Christmas story time while Tyler was all ears.

Incidentally, I think my OCD has filtered over into Noah. When most kids leave a note for Santa, they express their undying love and appreciation for the jolly fellow. At the very least, they wish Santa safe travels or remember to thank him for coming by.

But then there are letters like this...

Because when your dad has had to lay the flooring four times due to a stubborn dip in the concrete, I suppose you feel like you have to explain why your sorry parents never got a Christmas tree up under which Santa is supposed to present his yearly offerings.

Indeed, this is the first year we will go without a tree. It's kind of sad, but between my SI joint being out, traveling, our floor and the fact that I head to South Africa on New Year's Day, we decided to go without. The only thing I have out is one little nativity scene, which, really, is the focal point of the season anyway.

And, as the children are nestled all snug in their bed, I suppose Brian and I should relieve Noah of his stress and get our cap and 'kerchief and our long winter's nap on.

We wish you and yours a warm and joyous Christmas. We are so thankful for and humbed by all the blessings God pours over us. Most of all, for the little babe born in a barn because His Daddy loves us so much.

And, Feliz Navidad, Santa. See you soon!

Oh, I Wish I Had An Oscar Mayer Weiner

A few weeks ago, our Mothers of Preschoolers (MOPS) group had a seminary professor as a guest speaker. His talk was about teaching your kiddos about sex. Obviously, our little ones are too young to really grasp the entire concept, but he gave his opinion about what age to start introducing specific topics.

Starting with what to call your private parts.

He is of the opinion that children ought to know proper names for body parts from the start. I am indifferent to that opinion when it comes to someone else's children. I say teach them what you're comfortable with. Yes, it would oog me out to have a three year old walk up to me, replay the scene from Kindergarten Cop and deliver that famous one liner, "Boys have a p---- and girls have a v-----." But, to each his own.

However, for our household, "it" has always been addressed by it's proper scientific name - "weiner." Somehow, as Brian and I considered the vast list of options before us - willy, wee wee, tee tee'r, ding a ling and so on - we settled on "weiner."

And, as for "that," well, we just don't discuss Mommy's "that." I still can't write the word here, but I think I could handle using the proper term for men with the boys. HOWEVER, I GET ALL SQUEEMISH AND WANT TO GIGGLE AND RUN AWAY when I think of using the v word around my boys!!!! I even want to giggle when my gynecologist uses it. She does not think that is funny, though. So, for now, I'm at peace with the boys thinking I bring the fourth weiner to the family set.

At least I was until this professor's talk.

After his talk, I decided I'd like to be all progressive and secure with my privates and use the proper names like the cool, new millennium mommies do. The opportunity was perfectly presented when Tyler followed me into the bathroom one day. As he studied me sitting down, he asked, again, if I have a weiner. This is a topic of conversation, well, nearly everytime I go to the bathroom with an audience.

Don't you just love that precious, precious curiosity.

So, I sucked in my breath and decided this was the big day. We were going to have "the talk."

Not "that" talk, but the three year old version of "the talk."

I decided the best way was to make no big deal out of it and just state the facts. And this is what I gave him...

"Well, Tyler, you know what, girls don't have a, um, (cough), um, a...well, we don't have a...

Weiner."

Failure #1. Attempt #2...

"You know, Tyler, girls have a....(cough), um, mommies have....

Something Else."

Failure #2.

Attempt #1 to save the day and still be a fun, if not cool, progressive, new millennium Mommy with an abundance of maturity...

"Hey! Wanna go watch some cartoons?!"

I know, I know. I'm disappointed in myself, too. I thought I could do it, but, when the moment came, I couldn't make my lips go into those shapes and shove the words out.

But, you know what? That is why God made Blockbuster and why Arnold became an actor. And that is why, when they turn 13, we'll be renting Kindergarten Cop.

So what if I'm stuck in 1990? They made cool moms back then, too.

Clean "Teef!"

Tyler had his first dental appointment and was pretty excited about it.

I think it helped that he remembered the little play area from Noah's appointment.

Ooh, the anticipation. I wish I were this cool and collected in the dentist's chair.

But maybe if they gave me cool sunglasses and Scooby Doo to watch, that might encourage me a little.

Tyler's confused. He thinks, "Let me get this straight, we're paying them this much money and this little mirror is all they can afford? " He wasn't impressed.

He's just hoping they didn't skimp on their stickers.

Notice how rigid Tyler's hand stays in this video. He put on such a brave face, but his body language belied his tension.

My dad remembers a dentist appointment he took me to around middle school. As he waited in the waiting room just outside the exam room, he could see my feet rising off the bed. My feet stayed elevated nearly the entire appointment.

I miss having abdominal excellence like that.

Sigh...

Anyway, Tyler did great on his first vist to the dentist. What a champ! And, no cavities!

Time for stickers! And, yeah, they were awesome.

Twistaaaa

Noah decided to bust out Twister the other night.

Maybe holding your mouth a certain way helps pull off crazy yoga moves.
Daddy decided to get in on the action.

Noah decided playing tackle was more fun.

What do you think of our new flooring? It's still a work in progress, but I'm loving the easy clean-up and lack of stains!!!!

Let's just hope it can hold up to the continued tackling that's sure to happen with three boys in the house.

Homecoming

I have the best brother in the universe.

Maybe you think you do.

But, really, I do.

For someone who's always been my little brother, he's always taken care of me like he's the big brother.

When he lived in the states, we talked nearly everyday.

Now that he's overseas, I miss that greatly. I also miss getting to see him more often. We had the chance to fly up and see him when he had some training in Seattle last April, but he hadn't been home in almost 20 months.

And Texas just isn't the same republic without him.

So, boy, were we ready to welcome him home at Christmas.

Even my parents' dog was in on the excitement about to take place at D/FW airport.

Mom set herself up in a prime spot - right at the glass doors so she could be the first to see him.

There was anticipation all around.

Boy, it takes a lot of time to get through customs.

Enough time to get through some sillies.

Jordan had plenty of time to check out the competition.

But she didn't pee on the airport floor like another dog did, so she was won the cuteness competition paws down.

Finally!!!!!

Scott came home to a red, white and blue out. 'Cause we're patriotic like that.

It didn't take long for the boys to get comfy with Uncle Scott!

HAPPY Christmas, indeed.

Well, I'll Be. It's November.

Wow, November's been a silent blogging month. Even my friends haven't been updating their blogs as much. For me, it's a mixture of the busyness of back to back to back holidays and trying to cut back on time in front of the computer screen. It also seems I have a bad case of the "started a draft in my head, but never got it typed" thingy. Blogger's block, maybe?

One thing's for sure, we are getting to the stage where I'll be taping a lot of kid performances. Starting with the boys' preschool director's 25th anniversary last week and the songs the kids sang to her.

Here is Noah's performance. True to form, he has a laser-like focus on his music teacher. He is in the preschool music zone.


Here is Tyler's performance. The little long-haired girl next to him is Julia. True to form, he makes it about 53 seconds into the performance before he goes for a change of face pace.


Honestly, I'm just proud of him for standing on that stage for 2 1/2 minutes without kissing Julia.

Noah will make his big acting debut during tomorrow's Thanksgiving skit. He gets to be a pilgrim ready for a feast with the natives. Stay tuned for another video!

Just Another Manic Thursday

Part Uno

I chose the most humid, windy day to get my driver's license renewed.

Incidentally, when did they start calling organ donation an "anatomical gift?" Creepy.

After spending some extra time getting ready because, you know, these things are part of your life for six whole years, I walked out of the house to about the thickest humidity and wind combination you can imagine for October.

I'm still trying to figure out this concept called "plan ahead."

I have a feeling I'm going to regret my lack of foresight when I get my new dl in about six weeks and I look like Nick Nolte's long lost love child.

For the next six years. Awesome.

Little known fact that he got passed up for the role of Han Solo. That went to Harrison Ford instead. But maybe he was the hair inspiration for Chewbacca, so I guess he didn't really lose out in the end. Chewbacca rocks.

Anyway, I walked in to the DMV to find that, GLORY BE, I was first in line. I'm not sure what was the greater shock: that the DMV was line-free or that I got somewhere before anyone else did.

As I stood at the front of the line, I glanced around and noticed a bathroom. I then had to wrestle with the question of whether one last mirror check was worth risking my place in line. Since no one else followed me in, I decided to tempt fate and walked into the bathroom to see about a mirror.

And one glance in that mirror affirmed my decision to check things out. Glory be, it is amazing what walking through a blanket of humidity will do to your hair.

It was then that I saw in the reflection a hand dryer...

The fates then turned the tables and decided to tempt me. And, I, the girl who is lucky to walk out of the house with matching shoes and, I, the girl who applies make up at stoplights, found myself feeling a little self conscious about being hair twins with Chewbacca the next six years.

So, I eyed the faucet, then eyed the dryer and then the faucet again.

Well, you know what I did.

Oh yes I did.

I took that glorious stream of water and ran my fingers through my hair to get it just damp enough to work with. It was like my own little Regis Salon, only with a commode just feet from me. And the possibility of being caught in my embarrassing state of vanity if another person walked in.

But, there turned out to be enough risk taker in me and, after some hurried primping, I walked out to find that in about two short minutes, I was suddenly the third person in line. And, though there were employees buzzing all around, that is one place where a lot seems to be going on, but nothing productive appears to be happening.

Sort of like my daily routine as a Mom. Sometimes I feel like I couldn't be busier, but then I look around and wonder what the heck I've accomplished.

Anyway, who knows what my hair did before I actually got to the front of the line and had my picture snapped. We'll see in a few weeks, I guess.

Well, I will. There's a high probability you never will.

Unless we are trying to one-up each other in who looks most like a Star Wars character in their ID.

In which case I win. And I have the photo to prove it.

Part Dos

I had it in my mind that I had some shopping to do that same day. Thursdays are my best errand days since the boys are in school. I had a couple of stops to make before going to a local grocery store's going out of business sale. I was tempted to go home, though, when the downpour that brought on all that humidity finally arrived mid-morning and left me with little ability to see very far. Once I made the mad dash to my car, I hurried to roll down my windows to clear them, wiped my mirrors and used the back of my hand to wipe my windshield so I could see through the fogged up window. I nearly re-parked, though, when I realized I could barely see. I had never seen it rain so hard I couldn't even see the road right in front of me. Glory be, it was bad.

It was then that I finally realized I didn't have my wipers on.

You know, the things you turn on FIRST when trying to see through rain.

I think the fates came back and taunted me for giving in to their earlier temptation at the DMV.

Nonetheless, I made it to the grocery store, where I saved 71%, but also stocked up on things I am not sure I would normally buy.

I was, however, excited to score a great deal on some dried fruit (raisins, cranberries, cherries, etc.) Until I noticed the Use By date was January.

2009.

Nine months ago.

Glory be. I think I see why they went out of business.

Part Tres

Picked the boys up from school only to learn that Tyler had found other "activities" to pursue during nap time. His teacher told me four of the kids, Tyler and three girls, were placed in one area for nap time. Somehow, all four ended up with their heads in the same corner where all their nap mats met. His teacher then noticed that Tyler was stroking all three of the girls' hair and giving kisses to one little classmate, Julia. It's like he has a harem now.

And when I think harem, I no longer think "Casanova."

I think..."Hugh Hefner."

Glory be.

Father/Son Campout & Mother/Son Girls' Night Out

Our church had a father/son campout Friday night in Van Alstyne. Tyler was supposed to go, too, but he's had some snotty nose thing going on and I didn't want him to get worse in the 40 degree weather. It might just be allergies since he has nothing else going on, but I wasn't willing to risk pneumonia or swine flu to test his immune system.

Ah, swine flu, how you have slowly sucked the fun out of life.

Instead, Tyler got to hang out with a bunch of women at girls' night at the Andersons' house. Thankfully, there was another little preschooler there for T to play with. (Girls' night outs have changed over the years. We bring our kids, wear pj's, drink hot tea and leave by 10 p.m. Before we know it, they'll consist of bingo, knitting, conversations about cold cream and a 7:30 bedtime.).

Anyway, I think he was impressed with Maggie's train playing skills. They played so well together and kept themselves entertained while the mommies played games and talked. After we got home, Tyler looked deep into my eyes and declared, "Maggie is so pretty." What can I say? He has a heart for girls. It's like I'm raising Casanova.

As for our camping men, they had a blast. This is Noah jumping around in the tent once it was erected. Pitched. Whatever.
This is the guys eating dinner (weiners and chips). After raining all of Wednesday, the ground was still muddy. I'm having such a blast getting the mud out of those jeans. Clorox 2...I heart you.
This is Noah making a smiley face out of chips. I'm wondering if they also served some "special" brownies...Noah thought it would be fun to make a bunk bed out of their cots. Not sure it worked out very well.Brian noticed stadium lights not too far from their camp site (it's like he has an internal GPS for anything sports related), so they hopped in the car to watch some Van Alstyne football. Brian got to see several kids he used to coach and Noah scored a ring pop and some hot cocoa.

Back at the tent, there were a couple of card sharks playing Rummy and Old Maid. Looks like Brian is going down. And even though they had extra blankets, thick sleeping bags, sweatshirts and knit caps on, Brian got very little sleep from being cold and hearing people snore. Somewhere in the night, there was a thief who stole his extra blanket. We are not sure, but we suspect it was a five year old thief, judging by they muddy tracks he left behind. The next morning, they awoke to some kids using their tent as third base.

This next pic is with one of the boys' buddies, Grant. I just love the mud splatters on his face. I'm sure his Daddy did, too. Poor guy ran out of clothes from all the falling in the mud!

Despite cold weather, stolen blankets, mud, special brownies and all, they still had a blast and Noah spent Saturday night seriously wailing about wanting to go camping again. THAT night. I mean, it was the ugly cry. For over 20 minutes. Or 30, I don't remember which. But, it was sincere and that's what counts.

I get it, though. The smell and warmth of a campfire, marshmellows roasting, sleeping outdoors, solitude, relating to each other with a lack of distractions, crisp air...I get it.

There is just something special about getting back to the simple things of life.

So, if the weather cooperates, I think the four of us will find ourselves on our own camping trip and dancing in a tent in a couple of weeks. Looks like I'll be buying some more Clorox 2. Oh, how I heart the Clorox 2.

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree

Tyler surprised us when he said something about his son the other day. When we looked to see what he was talking about, we saw that he had declared his stuffed monkey his son. He named him Cracks.

A couple days later, he again said something about his son. When I looked over to see what he meant, I learned that he has another son, a stuffed tiger. The tiger is named Tiger.

Cracks and Tiger. How appropriate that Tyler's sons are a monkey and a tiger.

The evidence of monkey DNA is clear in this picture.

As for his tiger DNA, one of his favorite games to play is actually called "Tiger." We take turns pretending to be tigers as we growl at and then pounce on each other. Who needs a Wii when you've got his imagination?

As for Cracks, I don't know where he got that. There is no evidence of looney behavior in this family.

None at all.

Educatin' & Indoctrinatin' & Goofinatin'

This video is for family, Old Glory lovers across the United States of de America and for those who need a refresher on our solar system. Also people who don't mind spending 4 minutes of their life watching other people's kids' shenanigans.

This is not for people who actually know what Galatians 5:13 says or those who get grossed out by spit. Clearly we have some work to do.


This video is a public service announcement for MISD parents - this man is teaching your kids. At least we can be thankful Brian is an (amazing) engineering teacher and not an earth science teacher. I apologize in advance for our irreverent mockery of global warming. I blame our behavior on global warming.



Noah has clearly been studying the solar system at school. Today, he announced that Uranus is his favorite planet. Logic told me Noah is too young for little boy jokes about Uranus, but I still nervously braced myself as I replied, "Oh yeah? Why is that?" To which he said, "Because Uranus is blue and blue is suh-weeeet!"

Suh-weeeet sigh of relief.

Tech vs. Fuzzy

Brian was an architecture major, taught math for eight years and is now teaching engineering design.

I was a business major.

We played Old Maid during family game night a couple nights ago.

I don't know how much our degrees are an indication of our personalities, but the following made me laugh aloud when I noticed it. Here are our two piles of matching cards. I think they are very indicative of our personalities. Given what you know about our degrees, I'll let you decide which pile was Brian's and which was mine.

Roses Are Red...And Too Darn Expensive!

Brian has been married long enough to know I don't like having flowers ordered for me. Even buying them at the store is kind of questionable.

This is weird, I acknowledge.

I love flowers...love, love, love them. Fresh flowers brighten up a home so much. But, paying for those fresh flowers is not worth it to me. Reason tells me that money could be put into something that is going to be with you more than four days. I happen to like reason.

So, 13 years into this, I get flowers occasionally, but not enough times to make me worry about our bank balance over them.

Tonight, Noah ran to the store with Brian to get some chili and s'more ingredients. As they passed the flowers, Noah excitedly said, "Oooh, Daddy! I want to buy some flowers for Mommy!"

(Noah gets so excited anytime he finds a flower for me. On our walks, he can usually spot a dandelion or two and he totally delights in surprising me with them. It's those kinds of flowers any Mommy loves best.)

Brian hesitated, trying to decide how to break the news of his Mommy's abnormal resistance to receiving flowers to him gently. He then looked up to lock eyes with a woman smiling and nodding to tell him that, yes, he was indeed going to make it home with flowers tonight. Or risk looking like a jerk in front of her. Still, he stayed strong and told Noah, "No, buddy, not tonight."

But as they walked off, Brian said he felt like an ogre and changed his mind. So, Noah happily walked alongside the floral selection and sniffed until he found the perfect bouquet.

He sniffed to find what he deemed the most fragrant ones. I think that is sweet.

And I do think he found the perfect bunch.


Really, what's a few dollars when you get such tangible thoughtfulness? I can look at these for at least four days and be reminded Noah loves me. And his Daddy does, too. There will come a day when our boy is more worried about getting flowers for another girl. So, I'll take them while I can.

Sometimes you've just gotta be a little unreasonable.

And, anyway, this girl Noah meets might turn out to be the kind of girl who likes getting flowers that aren't of the yard picked dandelion variety.

Reason tells me this is good practice.

Work With Me

Hey Barkley, remember that time I vacuumed your fur off our couch? Remember how I painstakingly ran that Dirt Devil over and over our couch, carefully going over each crease to remove all bits of you from it? Remember how I laid your cozy bed next to the couch so you could still be near us? Remember that?

As in, an hour ago?

Apparently not.

$7 for South Africa

A.P. English was my favorite subject in high school. I loved digging deeper and finding meaning behind an author's words. The characters took on greater depth when there was symbolism and meaning behind the words used. The challenge of interpretation and not just reading for pleasure made books come more alive for me.

I am so much better at interpreting words than art, it seems.

I still love symbolism today, but I'll explain more later.

In January, I will return to South Africa for the third time.

Okay, let me rephrase that...

In JaNuArY (84 days!), I wIll (hip hip hooray!) ReTuRn tO (fist bump!) SOUTH AFRICAAAAAAAAA (glory be!) fOr ThE tHiRd TiMe!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!(turning cartwheels)

There is no way to describe how excited I am at this unexpected trip, so I hope the obnoxious overuse of exclamation points, capitalization and colors conveys some of it. When my plane landed back in Dallas last October, I really thought it would be the end of trips for me for awhile. We had hoped to have a third child by now and I just figured it would be at least three years before I could go back to this country I love so much. I had settled it in my heart that it would be a long time.

A few weeks ago, Kim, who talked me into going on the first two trips with her, told me she was going back to SA. Later, she sent me details on an upcoming info meeting. I ignored the email, figuring I wasn't going back anytime soon anyway. Well, days after she sent that, I re-read her blog entry about going back to SA.

Which got me thinking.

And thinking is what got me to South Africa the first two times!

Darn Kim.

I pulled up the email I'd overlooked days before and re-read it, this time with some "what if" in my mind. As I read, something in me asked for some confirmation, just something to let me know if I was supposed to be on this trip.

SECONDS later, I got a pop up sound on my computer, signaling that someone wanted to chat with me on Facebook. I clicked over to FB, blown away to find that it was Kim trying to chat.

As far as I remember, Kim and I had NEVER chatted on FB before then. So, after all the "holy cows!" and "no stinkin' way(s)!," I finally got it all out to Kim that I had just asked God to help me figure out if I'm supposed to go in January and then I get a chat message from the very girl that convince me to go the first two times. Confirmation #1.

Now, Gideon and I are the kind that turn a skeptical eye to reading too much into "signs," except I don't have wool lying around, so it appears God had to hit me upside the head with a few more confirmations over the coming days...

1. I was hit with immediate opposition, which always comes when you're striving to follow God. Satan tries to work weaknesses and make us stumble so we doubt ourselves. But I see that opposition = confirmation.

2. Within days, Habakkuk 1:5 was presented to me twice within 24 hours (thanks to Ryan Pitts and Scott Rhoades). It deserves its own paragraph, it's so beautiful...

Look at the nations and watch—and be utterly amazed. For I am going to do something in your days that you would not believe, even if you were told.

Now how often does Habakkuk come up in everyday circumstances? Confirmation x 2 in 24 hours = powerful stuff.

3. I read Jenny Simmons' blog (of Addison Road) because 1) we went to church together in high school and 2) her writing pretty much rocks my socks. She recently wrote about a girl who graduated from high school and then up and moved to Uganda to serve and love on as many children as she can. The girl feeds hundreds of starving, malnourished kids. In Jenny's blog, she wrote, "Just go, Jenny." If you go back and read Kim's blog entry, you will see why this phrase stuck out to me.

4. Noah was messing around on youtube. He likes to find Chipmunk or Dora versions of such musical highlights as 2 Legit To Quit and Crank Dat Soulja Boy. So, as he messed around, I suddenly heard a familiar tune I hadn't heard in a long time. As the notes played out, I realized it was Rhianna's Take A Bow. I got chills as the song took me back to a week last October when a 3rd grade South African girl serenaded me with that song over and over. And, let me tell Rhianna, she has some tough competition in that little girl. Who knew God could speak through R&B? It is 2009 after all.

5. I have until the end of this month to raise $2100 for my trip. I have received, with such blessing, $475 from friends who gave simply when I mentioned I was going back. Again, confirmation.

That leaves $1625 to go and I am not at all daunted. I'm actually kind of excited! Weird, I know.

Which leads me to a segue. And some symbolism.

Because I know this is a hard time for many and because I know many of you are already giving to things you believe in, I want to do something different with my fundraising this time. I think I'll have no trouble reaching $1625 if you and most of my FB friends find that you have $7 you could spare. $7 at a time will get me to South Africa and her people I love and I would really be grateful for your help.

I chose the #7 because numbers have meaning in the Bible. Seven is representative of completion. God made the world in 7 days. I believe God will bring this aspect of my trip to completion by November 1st, when all payment is due.

Trip details: We will be at Fort White, helping local missionaries establish relationships. We will hold VBS for the kids and do some construction around the grounds. The trip is January 1-11. We are hoping to raise $500 to help build a playground as well.

So, friends, I'm asking for a couple of things. If you have $7 to help me get back to Africa, you can send your tax deductible gift to FBC McKinney at 1615 W. Louisiana Street in McKinney, TX (75069). Checks can be made out to FBC McKinney but please be sure to somehow indicate in the envelope that it is for my trip.

Oh, they are going to love me in that finance office with these $7 checks coming in!

In addition, I would love your prayers for our team and for the beautiful people we will meet. Among other things, a few of us have young kids at home. It is never easy to leave people you love for ten days. It is even harder to leave little children who don't quite get why Mommy is flying across the ocean to take care of kids there. Please pray for our kiddos and the people loving on them while we are gone.

Honestly, I thank you that I can even come to you with excitement over something like this and a request like this.

Friends, get ready...look at the nations and watch - you and I are going to be utterly amazed!

P.S. INCIDENTALLY, another number that has meaning in the Bible is 70. It happens to symbolize God's heart for the nations. The NATIONS - how cool is that?!

So, if you've got $70 lying around...

Kidding, of course.

Unless you do.

the Root of all Evil = MATH

Isn't that in the Bible? Or something like that.

Last night, Noah used big, confusing words like "parallelogram, a rhombus is a slanted square, a pentagon has five sides, a hexagon has six and an octagon has eight."

Noah is in preschool. Preschool, people.

I'm beginning to worry I won't be able to help him with homework beyond third grade. Did I even know how to spell my name when I went to kindergarten? There was certainly no talk of rhombus' or hexagons when I was five.

Thank goodness Brian taught math for eight years!

Wait...is that right?

2 years at Anna Middle School
+ 2 years at Faubion Middle School
+ 2 years at Van Alstyne High School
+ 2 years at Boyd
8 years

Whew! At least simple addition hasn't left me!

Wait, they do still teach that through first grade, don't they?

A Day in the Life of Me

The boys all woke up with various icky symptoms today, so they stayed home while I ran to a parenting class at church. Got home to hear Noah enthusiastically announce he had checked the weather. As in weather.com. As in he located it on the internet. He even entered the zip code by himself, which he located on an envelope when he got two of the numbers swapped in his memory. Mr. Al Roker wannabe told me it was going to rain a lot, probably all week. Good to know we'll be hauling around umbrellas and sporting rainboots for the week.

Also good to know A&M has a very good meterology program as it appears we're raising a weather nerd buff.

Later, Tyler was standing about five feet from me. I asked if he had a hug for me. He said, "Yes. Right here," and he stretched his arms out wide to the side. I asked if I could please have it and he said I had to get up and come get it. Good to know I'll have to earn my hugs from here on out.

Also good to know he's learned the value of playing hard to get.

These two fascinate me with their way of thinking. Good to know I get to keep them around for 18 years.

I Will Remember You

This one is for me.

And for him or her.

I met my first nephew today, Caleb Olsen. We drove to east Texas last night after Brian's sister-in-law went into early labor and had an emergency c-section. The boys were so excited to meet Caleb, play with cousin Anna and be with their Nana and Paco.

Oh, and the news that they would get to stay in a hotel overnight was total icing on the cake. In any of our vactions, it would be no exaggeration to say that hotel stays are what make the vacation for them. In fact, when I announced our spur of the moment trip to Tyler as I rushed to pack, I decided it would be easier to initially tell him we were heading east to stay in a hotel than it would be to explain what "being born" means.

Lord help me when I try to figure out how to deliver the birds and the bees talk someday.

The hotel was all they dreamed it would be. At least, until Noah mistook the fire alarm for our door knob in the dark hallway and accidentally set it off around midnight. I'm pretty sure he'll never again make that mistake, given that his little body shook and his voice quivered the entire forever it sounded off.

Poor Tyler. His understanding of "being born" now includes a frazzled woman frantically running around the house to pack, a long drive, fire alarms and staying up way past his 8:00 bedtime. Let's hope it's not actually like that when his children are being born someday.

It's an understatement to say we were excited to meet Caleb. A baby is always a reason to celebrate, but especially when it's your niece or nephew! Can I tell you how awesome it's going to be to hear myself called, "Aunt Jen" for the first time?!

Logically, I knew our 11 p.m. arrival would be too late to make the stop at the hospital on the way into town, but it still was disappointing when we realized it would be morning before we could see him. We all got ants in our pants waiting for 11 a.m. this morning, when we met up with Brian's family to go to the hospital. And while we had been warned that little kids (other than siblings) could not go into the mommy ward, I am so thankful for my brother-in-law's thoughtfulness (and lawlessness) in sneaking our boys in to see their cousin anyway. I've since learned you can carry any number of kids back into the mommy ward if you just act like they belong to you and also avoid all eye contact with anyone at the nurses' station as you smuggle them inside.

All that illegal migration of undocumented "siblings" was worth it. It was so special to see this bunch together...

Caleb is totally precious. Skin so perfect and countenance so sweet. He's so chilled out and I am so thrilled for my niece, his big sister, Anna. So. Thrilled. I have a little brother and he is one of my best friends. How can you top having a brother that loves you as you are, is forgiving and forgetting of your uglies and who would do anything for you, whether that be risking his life to protect you or eating the veggies you can't seem to get off your plate? Scott hasn't done the first, unless being a soldier counts...which I think it does. But, the veggie thing was an actual event. Being eight is so much easier when you have a little brother who will help you eat your veggies so you can be excused from the dinner table.

Because Brian and I were blessed with rockstar brothers, I can't wait for Anna to experience how very cool they can be. Once she gets past the "why is my Mommy holding that little thing and when is he leaving" stage, that is! She was so cute in how leery she was in meeting Caleb. I remember how slowly Noah took it all in those first few minutes. I know that Anna will warm up to her little brother in no time, just as Noah did.

In short, I love my little nephew and think he was born into a pretty wonderful family. It is such a joy and a blessing that we could be there to witness the beginning of Caleb's story.

We love you, Caleb, and we are so glad you are in our family!

Now...

I have gone back and forth about whether to include the rest of this because nothing in me wants to take anything away from this incredible time.

And even though I wasn't completely honest about my feelings with people I love today, I feel like I need to be honest here.

Today was a little hard for me, given that Katie and I were just three weeks apart in our due dates. When we got the news that Katie was in labor yesterday, I was surprised at how raw my heart still is over the baby we lost. I was not able to restrain my tears when I got the news. I felt both surprised and guilty. How could I be sad at at time like this?

Meeting Caleb today, so many emotions rushed over me...absolute awe at what God created, absolute joy over his life, absolute respect for his parents whom I know will raise him well, absolute excitement for Anna and her sibling...

And absolute grief that my arms will not hold our own little newborn in three weeks.

Grief that had to be held in check when I first held Caleb. Grief that I couldn't show when we walked out of the hospital and as we ate lunch with Brian's family.

What has been building up all day finally releases.

I write this because I want to remember what joy this day held. I do love this little boy called Caleb.

But, I also write this for someone else I love. Some little boy or girl I don't want to be forgotten.

I hope that all who read this will see my heart or will forgive me if they don't. I am thrilled about Caleb's arrival and how beautiful it is, this new family of four. I am sad because I can't help but think of the little baby I lost.

Somehow, I think it's okay that those opposing feelings exist in my heart and that it is okay to simultaneously be happy for someone and sad about someone else.

So, God, I trust that you will do something with this someday. I know you hold the bigger picture behind my two miscarriages and I ask, even if I never see that bigger picture, that your peace will pour over and be evident in me. I hope you get so much glory from this.

And, please, God, hold my two little treasures in heaven extra tight for me tonight.

Thanks, God. I love you.

His Imagination

I just love little kids' imagination. They have such a fun way of looking at the world. It's so hilarious to hear their thoughts and watch them figure this world out.


Sunday, Tyler and Zachary B. were in Sunday school class together. The teacher was not there yet, so some of the parents waited with their kids. Brian suddenly heard Zach's mom laugh and asked her what happened.


It seems as if the boys had turned their blocks into guns. They made "pyu pyu" sounds as they pretended to shoot each other. Zachary threatened, "My gun has ANTS in it!"


To which Tyler retorted, "My gun has spiders and HOT SAUCE in it!"


Hot sauce. Si. Indeed a weapon of mass destruction. It's wreaked havoc on my intestines a time or two. I don't know where Iran is getting its enriched uranium, but if that runs out, I suppose they could always make a run for the border and get themselves some hot sauce.

Noah Speaks Seuss

Imagine my delight when Noah opened a Dr. Seuss book and declared he would read to me last night. Imagine my surprise when he actually read big words I didn't realize he could conquer.

Oh boy, the joy when, oh that brain, they do employ! Wringle, wrangle, wrum, bang on a drum. A good book I do enjoy, when night has fallen and the toys are done.

In other words, I'm loving watching him fall in love with reading!

Y'all Want Some Rice With That?

Growing up a military brat, I was surrounded by diversity. Especially when we lived in Korea and there were many other hapas like me. It was easy to get through nearly my first half of life not giving any thought to whether my physical appearance made me stand out from my friends. Because it didn't. We were all different. I never looked in a mirror and caught myself thinking, "Why, hello, Asian girl! Why can I never tell if your eyes are open or closed? Want some rice?"

(Well, maybe the last part of that. I do love me some rice.)

Anyhoo, moving to Texas was an altogether different story. It started with going to high school in south Dallas. It became more obvious when I went to a university where the Asian population was about seven (the sushi chef, some math professors and me) and I started to notice something was way different.

Case in point, I offer you two photos taken on a boot scootin' night my fish year. Please glance quickly at them and then tell me who stands out like a sore Asian thumb wearing boots and an enormous belt buckle. With her pants hiked way up and needing an eyebrow plucking intervention.

I do wonder what those cowboys thought when they saw this crew of dancers and a lone math professor walking into Denim and Diamonds.

There's an episode of Golden Girls where one of the girls sits on a plane and starts speaking slowly and loudly to the Asian man sitting next to her. He spends the whole flight quietly accommodating her need to talk. It's not until much later in the episode that it's revealed that the guy actually has been able to understand her English the entire time and he, in fact, has a very heavy southern accent.

I can so relate! Most people don't assume I don't speak English (some only assume I am skilled at both chopsticks and nunchucks), but I wonder sometimes if it surprises them that I have a southern accent. And, this accent is not something I give much thought to until I'm out of the south. As in Colorado, for example, and it's only then that I realize I sound very well, southern. Beyond the "y'alls," there is a very distinct drawl I never hear until I'm north of the Mason Dixon. Suddenly I sound like I came with the last name Clampett and a Granny who thinks the South won the Civil War.

And, suddenly, I am aware of two things.

#1...I sound very Texan. #2...I feel very Asian. Funny how, when you mix the two, one makes the other stand out so much more.

Because you see a white girl with a southern accent and you think nothing of it. Or, you see an Asian girl with a Californian accent and no one pays much attention. BUT, you hear an Asian girl fixin to piddle with a do-hicky and you'd think I was three sheets to the wind. We're scarce as teeth on a hen, I tell y'all.

But it's not like I can go back on my raisin'. I am both Asian and Texan and I am proud.

And I am thankful. I give thanks because I can go to my parents house and eat both BBQ chicken and kimchi on the same day. One day, I opened up my parents' fridge to find some yummy kimchi soup. Mmm, there is just no way to put its deliciousness into words. I stood there in the cold fridge doorway and audibly offered thanks to God or my Dad (I don't remember which) for my Mom being Korean.

I do get the best of both worlds, y'all.

If You've Got It, Phlaunt It

I strolled around the Square the other day, something I rarely do. I had special ordered something for B's birthday, so I decided to kill some time while the welder was at work.

I could afford shopping on the Square if we could just stop feeding our kids just adore the Square. I love the atmosphere and the chance to browse in such a charming part of town. I can feel myself relaxing as I slowly stroll in and out of the stores there. I do enjoy a good window shop, even if I don't buy anything.

I stepped into one whimsical looking store and noticed this belt buckle...

Which, I guess if you're going to carry around some baby fat, you may as well own it and bling it up. Shake what 'cha baby gave ya!

And, I've decided to start addressing my baby fat as baby phat. I did go to high school in south Dallas, so I like to think my fat cells have a little hip hop in them. They are just in there, dancing around to some Will Smith. My mid-section is getting Jiggy With It.

I found out later that Baby Phat is actually an upscale urban clothing line. I thought this buckle was just a clever way to own your belly phat. I guess when your clothing line comes from Old Navy and Target, you kind of lose your hip hop fashion knowledge somewhere along the way.

Incidentally, we've been needing a new toilet paper holder. So, here is what the welder made for Brian.

We will, of course, be mounting that upside down as pictured. The Aggie Spirit is alive in our house. And in our bathroom.

So, holla. And, Gig'em.