At the store tonight, Reece grabs a desired movie off of the shelf.
"Mom, can I get this movie?"
Me: "Ask Santa nicely, and he just might let you have it for Christmas." (A patent answer this time of year.)
Reece, roughly shoving the movie back on the shelf: "Oh, yeah, like he's gonna listen to ME."
[sigh]
Out of the mouths of babes...
Friday, December 11, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Our Family Christmas Letter 2009
I've copied and pasted this from our family's regular Christmas letter that we mail out every year, partly in hopes of being a bit more "green" this year, but also to include all of those "new old friendships" that have resurfaced this year.
No matter the medium, all of our communication is sent/uploaded with lots of love!
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
I’ve gone through about a hundred different ways of starting this year’s Christmas letter. A lot has happened in our 2009, I don’t know about yours. Our lives have changed in some very significant ways. So, how do I begin to sufficiently encapsulate all that has happened, and what it has meant to us?
Well, the very best way I have come up with is to tell you that my God is GOOD. My God does not follow the same rules of fairness that you and I have, but my God is good. My God is loving, even when it doesn’t look like it. My God is supreme and sovereign, even when I’m questioning Him in hurt or anger. The Hand that delivers you to it is the same Hand that will deliver you through it, this has been my mantra this year. My God is in all things GOOD.
Galen lost his job this year. Not once, but twice. Within the same organization, no less. (It’s weird, I know.) Last year, I wrote in our Christmas letter that Galen was the Director of Alumni at Ottawa University, and how much he was enjoying that job. Then, the economy hit the university, and in February, almost a year to the day of his promotion, Galen was one of several who were let go. The university graciously created a position for Galen in the Admissions office, so as not to lose him completely. Although not overly happy with the shift, Galen saw the prudence in keeping *a* job in the current market, and accepted. However, by June, the Admissions office was making major changes and eliminating positions to make way for a new admissions model. God was rapping on Galen’s head – hard – that it was time to go.
The doors of opportunity were thrown open towards Bethany College in Lindsborg. We pulled up stakes and stepped out on faith. Galen began his new job as Director of Annual Giving (a.k.a “The Fund-Raiser Guy”) in early August. It’s not an easy job, especially these days. But Galen has come to love the college, he loves the job, and fully appreciates the challenge before him. But, never fear, fellow Braves! Even though we don the blue-and-gold with pride and joy, our hearts will always bleed black-and-gold. (Well… at least one ventricle, anyway.)
Again, I cannot say it enough: God is good. I look back on how difficult it was to say Good-bye to our lives in Ottawa. Those roots ran deep, for all six of us. But I see as well how GOOD God is for sending us here. We went through all of that because He could not have been clearer that THIS is where we’re supposed to be right now. Lindsborg is a wonderful community; embracing and friendly, culture-rich and enthusiastic about Christ. Bethany is an impressive organization and we’re both very grateful to be working here.
“Both.” Yes, I wrote that correctly. Galen and I BOTH are working for Bethany.
After being primarily a stay-at-home mom for who-knows-how-many-years, I’ve gone back to work! Well, part-time. But still! ... The Bethany Social Sciences building took me on as their secretary in late August, and they’re still putting up with me, bless ’em. They’ve made it easy to foray back into the working world, and I’m enjoying the people I work for very much. I miss directing my choirs and teaching my private students, yes, but I’m not idle in my music pursuits. I’ve stepped to the other side of the music stand and have started taking voice lessons again, and I’m very much looking forward to joining a choir in the area and sing with a group again soon. This extraordinary little community has no lack of quality music avenues, and I’m very excited for some new learning opportunities.
“How have the kids handled all of this?” you ask.
It hasn’t been easy on them. Ottawa was the only community they’d ever called “home.” But my kids are tough. They’re compassionate, patient and trusting, too. And their parents have relied on those attributes more this year than ever before. They’ve adapted very nicely, all-in-all… Again, Lindsborg has made it easy.
Kagen had a great sixth grade year at OMS. His spring semester added another year to his age and a couple of new inches to his height. Over the summer he enjoyed another fantastic week at Camp Mennoscah and helping out with various Bible schools in the area. Kagen jumped head-first into Lindsborg Middle School with his typical wit, charm and accepting spirit. His fall semester added football to his schedule… and yet another couple of inches to his height. [sigh] His team fought their way to a winning season, and Kagen thoroughly enjoyed playing lineman on the team. He’s still enjoying trumpet with the middle school band, Scholars Bowl, and is still keeping up his excellent grades and making new friends. His thirteenth birthday is approaching in February, and he has nothing but ornery grins toward his parents about becoming a teenager. Oh yes, pray for us all.
AJ rolls along as AJ ever does: sweet-natured, diligent and thoughtful. He had no problems finding the same interests in Lindsborg that he held in Ottawa, for which we are grateful. AJ is still keeping up with his piano lessons and Scouts activities. He also had the opportunity to spend a few days at Camp Mennoscah this summer, and he can’t wait to go back again! He’s ever the excellent student and friend-maker, and he certainly made the most of all the opportunities being eight years old afforded him this past year. Understandably, he’s even more excited about having just turned nine a few days ago and what those new opportunities will be, too!
It’s always a challenge to “sum up” Reece. This child is one, big, walking dichotomy. You can’t peg him, because he’ll surprise you, either way. His spring semester of kindergarten was as wonderful as the semester previous. His summer was full of playtime, friends and fun, as it should be. Moving was hardest on him, of all the kids. But, mercifully, some hands of friendship were extended to him rather early-on after we moved, which helped his transition to a new school that much easier. He’s still the same fun-loving, imaginative, quirky little monkey that can exasperate and entertain us (often all at once). Reece is working through his challenges bit-by-bit, and we know he’s going to be very successful with all of them. We praise God for an excellent teacher, an excellent school and his good friends! These factors give the rest of his First Grade year a lot of hope. Reece has also joined Scouts, and is looking forward to some martial arts classes in the spring. He’s loved being six this year, and can’t wait for seven in April!
My last child is in her last year of preschool. Kind of the end of an era, on the “mom-o-meter.” I was highly doubtful we would find a preschool program here that matched the high expectations Westminster Preschool set for us… but we did. Soderstrom Preschool here has been such a wonderful program with which to be a part. Just like last year, Emilie loves it; school days are good days. She is a whiz with letters and early reading skills, and we love how her preschool is fostering those abilities so well. Emilie is still quite the mommy-care-taker to her vast nursery of baby-dolls, and has endless delight in playing “school” with them. It’s very fun watching her grow into a thoughtful, sharply intelligent, caring little girl. Five is such a great age, and she will certainly enjoy every day of it.
And I have to include at least a couple of sentences about our extended families, of course. Both sets of parents are doing well, and continuing to give and thrive in their respective communities. They have blessed us in ways immeasurable this year. My brother and his wife are continuing to impact people’s lives through their lines of work in Newton. Galen and I became the proud aunt and uncle to our second niece, Grace, in November. We are VERY excited to go to Wyoming over Christmas break and love all over her, her big sis Claire, and her parents.
2009 has been a year of looking forwards and back… very often at the same time. It has been a year for the history-books, for our nation and for us personally. (I’m shaking my head in disbelief at the realization that the first decade of the 21st century is near a close. Weren’t we just chanting “Y2K Compatable”, like, yesterday?) So many of our loved ones have struggled this year, be it with job insecurities, a myriad of personal struggles, or health issues. And, at the same time, so many of our loved ones have experienced new joys, found new peace, and deepened their well of gratitude. I fervently hope that you holding this letter know that whatever your 2009 has been like, God is good, all the time. Know that we extend to you friendship and Christ’s love. With all our hearts, we pray for peace, guidance and revival. May you be richly blessed in the new decade ahead!
In Him,
Galen, Blakely, Kagen, AJ, Reece and Emilie
No matter the medium, all of our communication is sent/uploaded with lots of love!
MERRY CHRISTMAS!
I’ve gone through about a hundred different ways of starting this year’s Christmas letter. A lot has happened in our 2009, I don’t know about yours. Our lives have changed in some very significant ways. So, how do I begin to sufficiently encapsulate all that has happened, and what it has meant to us?
Well, the very best way I have come up with is to tell you that my God is GOOD. My God does not follow the same rules of fairness that you and I have, but my God is good. My God is loving, even when it doesn’t look like it. My God is supreme and sovereign, even when I’m questioning Him in hurt or anger. The Hand that delivers you to it is the same Hand that will deliver you through it, this has been my mantra this year. My God is in all things GOOD.
Galen lost his job this year. Not once, but twice. Within the same organization, no less. (It’s weird, I know.) Last year, I wrote in our Christmas letter that Galen was the Director of Alumni at Ottawa University, and how much he was enjoying that job. Then, the economy hit the university, and in February, almost a year to the day of his promotion, Galen was one of several who were let go. The university graciously created a position for Galen in the Admissions office, so as not to lose him completely. Although not overly happy with the shift, Galen saw the prudence in keeping *a* job in the current market, and accepted. However, by June, the Admissions office was making major changes and eliminating positions to make way for a new admissions model. God was rapping on Galen’s head – hard – that it was time to go.
The doors of opportunity were thrown open towards Bethany College in Lindsborg. We pulled up stakes and stepped out on faith. Galen began his new job as Director of Annual Giving (a.k.a “The Fund-Raiser Guy”) in early August. It’s not an easy job, especially these days. But Galen has come to love the college, he loves the job, and fully appreciates the challenge before him. But, never fear, fellow Braves! Even though we don the blue-and-gold with pride and joy, our hearts will always bleed black-and-gold. (Well… at least one ventricle, anyway.)
Again, I cannot say it enough: God is good. I look back on how difficult it was to say Good-bye to our lives in Ottawa. Those roots ran deep, for all six of us. But I see as well how GOOD God is for sending us here. We went through all of that because He could not have been clearer that THIS is where we’re supposed to be right now. Lindsborg is a wonderful community; embracing and friendly, culture-rich and enthusiastic about Christ. Bethany is an impressive organization and we’re both very grateful to be working here.
“Both.” Yes, I wrote that correctly. Galen and I BOTH are working for Bethany.
After being primarily a stay-at-home mom for who-knows-how-many-years, I’ve gone back to work! Well, part-time. But still! ... The Bethany Social Sciences building took me on as their secretary in late August, and they’re still putting up with me, bless ’em. They’ve made it easy to foray back into the working world, and I’m enjoying the people I work for very much. I miss directing my choirs and teaching my private students, yes, but I’m not idle in my music pursuits. I’ve stepped to the other side of the music stand and have started taking voice lessons again, and I’m very much looking forward to joining a choir in the area and sing with a group again soon. This extraordinary little community has no lack of quality music avenues, and I’m very excited for some new learning opportunities.
“How have the kids handled all of this?” you ask.
It hasn’t been easy on them. Ottawa was the only community they’d ever called “home.” But my kids are tough. They’re compassionate, patient and trusting, too. And their parents have relied on those attributes more this year than ever before. They’ve adapted very nicely, all-in-all… Again, Lindsborg has made it easy.
Kagen had a great sixth grade year at OMS. His spring semester added another year to his age and a couple of new inches to his height. Over the summer he enjoyed another fantastic week at Camp Mennoscah and helping out with various Bible schools in the area. Kagen jumped head-first into Lindsborg Middle School with his typical wit, charm and accepting spirit. His fall semester added football to his schedule… and yet another couple of inches to his height. [sigh] His team fought their way to a winning season, and Kagen thoroughly enjoyed playing lineman on the team. He’s still enjoying trumpet with the middle school band, Scholars Bowl, and is still keeping up his excellent grades and making new friends. His thirteenth birthday is approaching in February, and he has nothing but ornery grins toward his parents about becoming a teenager. Oh yes, pray for us all.
AJ rolls along as AJ ever does: sweet-natured, diligent and thoughtful. He had no problems finding the same interests in Lindsborg that he held in Ottawa, for which we are grateful. AJ is still keeping up with his piano lessons and Scouts activities. He also had the opportunity to spend a few days at Camp Mennoscah this summer, and he can’t wait to go back again! He’s ever the excellent student and friend-maker, and he certainly made the most of all the opportunities being eight years old afforded him this past year. Understandably, he’s even more excited about having just turned nine a few days ago and what those new opportunities will be, too!
It’s always a challenge to “sum up” Reece. This child is one, big, walking dichotomy. You can’t peg him, because he’ll surprise you, either way. His spring semester of kindergarten was as wonderful as the semester previous. His summer was full of playtime, friends and fun, as it should be. Moving was hardest on him, of all the kids. But, mercifully, some hands of friendship were extended to him rather early-on after we moved, which helped his transition to a new school that much easier. He’s still the same fun-loving, imaginative, quirky little monkey that can exasperate and entertain us (often all at once). Reece is working through his challenges bit-by-bit, and we know he’s going to be very successful with all of them. We praise God for an excellent teacher, an excellent school and his good friends! These factors give the rest of his First Grade year a lot of hope. Reece has also joined Scouts, and is looking forward to some martial arts classes in the spring. He’s loved being six this year, and can’t wait for seven in April!
My last child is in her last year of preschool. Kind of the end of an era, on the “mom-o-meter.” I was highly doubtful we would find a preschool program here that matched the high expectations Westminster Preschool set for us… but we did. Soderstrom Preschool here has been such a wonderful program with which to be a part. Just like last year, Emilie loves it; school days are good days. She is a whiz with letters and early reading skills, and we love how her preschool is fostering those abilities so well. Emilie is still quite the mommy-care-taker to her vast nursery of baby-dolls, and has endless delight in playing “school” with them. It’s very fun watching her grow into a thoughtful, sharply intelligent, caring little girl. Five is such a great age, and she will certainly enjoy every day of it.
And I have to include at least a couple of sentences about our extended families, of course. Both sets of parents are doing well, and continuing to give and thrive in their respective communities. They have blessed us in ways immeasurable this year. My brother and his wife are continuing to impact people’s lives through their lines of work in Newton. Galen and I became the proud aunt and uncle to our second niece, Grace, in November. We are VERY excited to go to Wyoming over Christmas break and love all over her, her big sis Claire, and her parents.
2009 has been a year of looking forwards and back… very often at the same time. It has been a year for the history-books, for our nation and for us personally. (I’m shaking my head in disbelief at the realization that the first decade of the 21st century is near a close. Weren’t we just chanting “Y2K Compatable”, like, yesterday?) So many of our loved ones have struggled this year, be it with job insecurities, a myriad of personal struggles, or health issues. And, at the same time, so many of our loved ones have experienced new joys, found new peace, and deepened their well of gratitude. I fervently hope that you holding this letter know that whatever your 2009 has been like, God is good, all the time. Know that we extend to you friendship and Christ’s love. With all our hearts, we pray for peace, guidance and revival. May you be richly blessed in the new decade ahead!
In Him,
Galen, Blakely, Kagen, AJ, Reece and Emilie
My youngest son: The cause of my laugh lines and all my grey hair.
If you haven't picked up on it somewhat by now, let me cease any ambiguity and just out-and-out tell you: Reece is a handfull. I often joke he is the reason for all of my budding grey hair.
Reece is funny, smart, sweet, very entertaining, he can be amazingly empathetic at times... But he also has some problems with his temper, focus, and emotional maturity (even for a six year old). To the point that it's often a concern.
Reece has had a delay in his language skills; we've had him screened and tested several times by a myriad of doctors, clinicians and other sundry experts. His physical formation of speech has improved a thousandfold over the past few years, so that's not really a concern any longer, but he does struggle constantly with language comprehension and processing. Again, we're seeking the right solutions along all the right avenues. It could be a learning disability, it could be a neurological problem, it could just be something he'll have to grow out of, who knows? We're exploring all options as best we can.
This comprehension problem has contributed to some of his outbursts and problems with frustration and anger, no doubt. But my gut tells me there is some need in him that we haven't laid our hands on yet, and still have yet to uncover and meet.
We have been BLESSED with some wonderful teachers the past few years. His preschool teachers were perfect in their caring and intuitiveness with him. The exact same can be said for his kindergarten teacher last year. Wonderful women, all of them, and we are always grateful for them each.
But then we move to a new community, without knowing what we'd be getting into or what kind of teachers our children would land... And God directed Reece's path to *THIS* particular First Grade teacher. She is absolutely wonderful, and I cannot say enough good things about her. What a relief to send this wonderful Handfull to her very capable and genuinely caring hands five days a week.
No parent wants their child to be "the difficult one." I tell Reece's teacher that all the time; we're trying very hard to steer him in the direction of model behavior and cooperativeness, for her sake as well as his! She has enough on her plate as it is, without Reece's meltdowns. But she is wonderful with him, and we're so grateful that Reece has THIS teacher at THIS time in his life.
It's not all struggle and worry with Reece. Know this: That funny, smart, sweet-natured-ness is the real Reece, and it gives us laughs and joy more often in the day than frustration or concern. We just have to get the Real Reece to shine through more evenly and consistently. Through God's guidance, and all the expert help we can get our hands on, he will. The Real Reece is the source of all my laugh lines creeping across my face. And bring on some more, I say!
Reece is funny, smart, sweet, very entertaining, he can be amazingly empathetic at times... But he also has some problems with his temper, focus, and emotional maturity (even for a six year old). To the point that it's often a concern.
Reece has had a delay in his language skills; we've had him screened and tested several times by a myriad of doctors, clinicians and other sundry experts. His physical formation of speech has improved a thousandfold over the past few years, so that's not really a concern any longer, but he does struggle constantly with language comprehension and processing. Again, we're seeking the right solutions along all the right avenues. It could be a learning disability, it could be a neurological problem, it could just be something he'll have to grow out of, who knows? We're exploring all options as best we can.
This comprehension problem has contributed to some of his outbursts and problems with frustration and anger, no doubt. But my gut tells me there is some need in him that we haven't laid our hands on yet, and still have yet to uncover and meet.
We have been BLESSED with some wonderful teachers the past few years. His preschool teachers were perfect in their caring and intuitiveness with him. The exact same can be said for his kindergarten teacher last year. Wonderful women, all of them, and we are always grateful for them each.
But then we move to a new community, without knowing what we'd be getting into or what kind of teachers our children would land... And God directed Reece's path to *THIS* particular First Grade teacher. She is absolutely wonderful, and I cannot say enough good things about her. What a relief to send this wonderful Handfull to her very capable and genuinely caring hands five days a week.
No parent wants their child to be "the difficult one." I tell Reece's teacher that all the time; we're trying very hard to steer him in the direction of model behavior and cooperativeness, for her sake as well as his! She has enough on her plate as it is, without Reece's meltdowns. But she is wonderful with him, and we're so grateful that Reece has THIS teacher at THIS time in his life.
It's not all struggle and worry with Reece. Know this: That funny, smart, sweet-natured-ness is the real Reece, and it gives us laughs and joy more often in the day than frustration or concern. We just have to get the Real Reece to shine through more evenly and consistently. Through God's guidance, and all the expert help we can get our hands on, he will. The Real Reece is the source of all my laugh lines creeping across my face. And bring on some more, I say!
Monday, October 19, 2009
All I Want for Christmas...
My youngest son has been front-tooth-less for about three or four months now. In spite of the whole corn-on-the-cob issue, it has not bothered him nor us in the slightest. I might even miss "the gap" once it's gone. It's hard to make Reece cuter than he is, but I think two missing front teeth has just about done it. But alas, he'll have to settle on his "usual cuteness;" the gap is closing.
Apparently, they are in a race. I swear a few days ago, the one on the right (which I'll call Fang) was coming in slightly ahead of the one on the left (which I'll call Chops). Then, it seemed Fang and Chops were in a dead heat. Watching him read tonight at bedtime, I couldn't help but notice Chops is inching ahead. I'll keep you abreast of these exciting details as they unfold.
(D'you think I could get some sponsorships, like NASCAR does? Maybe get some tiny advertising stickers to plaster on his teeth... We could charge for "air time" everytime he spoke or smiled... Hmmmm.... I'm making some phone calls in the morning!)
Looking at Reece's racing teeth makes me chuckle, because I keep thinking of the day they came out.
Late last spring, my mother decided our family needed a trampoline. Apparently, there was something about our landscaping that screamed "Must have large bouncy circle, riiiiiiiight... HERE."
This actually turned out to be a cool family toy. I discovered it's hard to stay in a bad mood after a few bounces, and we came to appreciate how much energy it burned off of our kids, while still keeping them in one spot. Considering Reece, that's no small feat, lemme tell ya.
One beautiful May evening, Reece and his brothers were bouncing away on the trampoline, having a wrestling match (trampoline + sumo wrestling moves = hilarity to the "n-th"). I was cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, when all of a sudden, through the back door bursts Reece.
He held his hand under his chin.
"Hey, Mom, look!" [ptooey] "Kagen knocked my teeth out!" he shouted gleefully.
He dropped them in my hand, turned tail and shot back out the door to finish his wrestling match.
Not a trace of blood or tears. Just anticipation to get back in the game.
"Oh, OK," was my stunned yet brilliant response.
And, now we have yet another "Reece" story to chuckle over.
Race results to be posted soon.
Apparently, they are in a race. I swear a few days ago, the one on the right (which I'll call Fang) was coming in slightly ahead of the one on the left (which I'll call Chops). Then, it seemed Fang and Chops were in a dead heat. Watching him read tonight at bedtime, I couldn't help but notice Chops is inching ahead. I'll keep you abreast of these exciting details as they unfold.
(D'you think I could get some sponsorships, like NASCAR does? Maybe get some tiny advertising stickers to plaster on his teeth... We could charge for "air time" everytime he spoke or smiled... Hmmmm.... I'm making some phone calls in the morning!)
Looking at Reece's racing teeth makes me chuckle, because I keep thinking of the day they came out.
Late last spring, my mother decided our family needed a trampoline. Apparently, there was something about our landscaping that screamed "Must have large bouncy circle, riiiiiiiight... HERE."
This actually turned out to be a cool family toy. I discovered it's hard to stay in a bad mood after a few bounces, and we came to appreciate how much energy it burned off of our kids, while still keeping them in one spot. Considering Reece, that's no small feat, lemme tell ya.
One beautiful May evening, Reece and his brothers were bouncing away on the trampoline, having a wrestling match (trampoline + sumo wrestling moves = hilarity to the "n-th"). I was cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, when all of a sudden, through the back door bursts Reece.
He held his hand under his chin.
"Hey, Mom, look!" [ptooey] "Kagen knocked my teeth out!" he shouted gleefully.
He dropped them in my hand, turned tail and shot back out the door to finish his wrestling match.
Not a trace of blood or tears. Just anticipation to get back in the game.
"Oh, OK," was my stunned yet brilliant response.
And, now we have yet another "Reece" story to chuckle over.
Race results to be posted soon.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Lucky Thirteen
Today is my anniversary. Galen and I got married thirteen years ago today.
Thanks!
[Assuming you, the reader, have just mentally said, "Happy Anniversary!"]
Nothing big. We've had a lot going on the past several weeks and decided to keep things very low-key this year.
[Now assuming you've just asked, "What are you doing to celebrate?"]
I decided this morning it might be kind of fun (...for ME, at least. Mildly irritating to others.) to update my Facebook and Twitter status every couple of hours or so throughout the day with "Thirteen years ago today, at THIS time, I was..."
I can't wait for 5:45. At 5:45 on September 21, 1996, the ceremony was over, we were pronounced "husband and wife" and began our recessional down the aisle, our first walk as a married couple. I will never forget that walk together. The ceremony preceding was beautiful and wonderful, but I admit, parts of it all are a bit hazy. I think adrenaline and nerves surrounding a big event will do that to you. But the reason our recessional walk together is so vivid, is because it was that moment when a loud, bright realization hit me - hard - and these words went through my entire being like an electric shock to my soul:
"What the hell did we just DO?!? We just got MARRIED!!!"
I can almost hear you laughing, confusedly.
I can also almost hear you saying to yourself some variation of "Well, no duh, Blakely, 'you just got married'... it was your WEDDING DAY!"
Yes, I get that. I get the whole "wedding means getting married" thing, believe me.
But, you know, despite the weeks of planning for it, talking about it, thinking about it, praying about it, pre-marital counselling, eating, breathing, sleeping it... it was THAT moment, walking back down the aisle on Galen's arm... a minister just moments before finalizing our status before God, sealing us together in the most sacred of ways... that it just HIT me: I really, truly and sincerely MARRIED. We did it. For the rest of my life, no matter what God puts before us, Galen and I are... married. Wow...
Then the next thought that ran through my head was something along the lines of, "Is Galen INSANE?!?" Occasionally I still ask myself that question... poor guy.
That was a stunning realization, in the very truest sense of the words. I was joyful for it then, and I can tell you from every fiber of my being, I'm even more joyful for it all now. He was my best friend then and he most certainly still is now. I'm sometimes amazed that I can still make him laugh after 24/7/13yrs together. Can't he just predict everything I'm going to say, anymore? Doesn't he know me well enough to be bored by now? I now know what the old cliche means, "I love him more now than the day we got married." He's a good man. He's my gift, undeserved, and once upon a time, un-looked for. I not only love him, I like him, too.
Happy anniversary, Galen!
Thanks!
[Assuming you, the reader, have just mentally said, "Happy Anniversary!"]
Nothing big. We've had a lot going on the past several weeks and decided to keep things very low-key this year.
[Now assuming you've just asked, "What are you doing to celebrate?"]
I decided this morning it might be kind of fun (...for ME, at least. Mildly irritating to others.) to update my Facebook and Twitter status every couple of hours or so throughout the day with "Thirteen years ago today, at THIS time, I was..."
I can't wait for 5:45. At 5:45 on September 21, 1996, the ceremony was over, we were pronounced "husband and wife" and began our recessional down the aisle, our first walk as a married couple. I will never forget that walk together. The ceremony preceding was beautiful and wonderful, but I admit, parts of it all are a bit hazy. I think adrenaline and nerves surrounding a big event will do that to you. But the reason our recessional walk together is so vivid, is because it was that moment when a loud, bright realization hit me - hard - and these words went through my entire being like an electric shock to my soul:
"What the hell did we just DO?!? We just got MARRIED!!!"
I can almost hear you laughing, confusedly.
I can also almost hear you saying to yourself some variation of "Well, no duh, Blakely, 'you just got married'... it was your WEDDING DAY!"
Yes, I get that. I get the whole "wedding means getting married" thing, believe me.
But, you know, despite the weeks of planning for it, talking about it, thinking about it, praying about it, pre-marital counselling, eating, breathing, sleeping it... it was THAT moment, walking back down the aisle on Galen's arm... a minister just moments before finalizing our status before God, sealing us together in the most sacred of ways... that it just HIT me: I really, truly and sincerely MARRIED. We did it. For the rest of my life, no matter what God puts before us, Galen and I are... married. Wow...
Then the next thought that ran through my head was something along the lines of, "Is Galen INSANE?!?" Occasionally I still ask myself that question... poor guy.
That was a stunning realization, in the very truest sense of the words. I was joyful for it then, and I can tell you from every fiber of my being, I'm even more joyful for it all now. He was my best friend then and he most certainly still is now. I'm sometimes amazed that I can still make him laugh after 24/7/13yrs together. Can't he just predict everything I'm going to say, anymore? Doesn't he know me well enough to be bored by now? I now know what the old cliche means, "I love him more now than the day we got married." He's a good man. He's my gift, undeserved, and once upon a time, un-looked for. I not only love him, I like him, too.
Happy anniversary, Galen!
Sunday, September 6, 2009
More Reece Humor
OK, OK, I do have to share this ONE story, before I log off for now...
Last Friday, I went to pick the kids up from school. As we were walking to the car, Reece pulled out a toy cell phone he'd snuck into his book bag, and started to "take a call."
He looked at the screen.
"It's my girlfriend," he sighed, slightly annoyed.
He flipped open the phone with mastery level flipping skills, to answer this pestering call from his imaginary girlfriend. The following is what I hear:
"Yeah, hi, babe. How are you?"
Pause.
"Mmm. OK."
Pause.
"Yeah. Love you, too. See you later."
Snap.
Call ended.
[sigh] "She just bugs me."
Now I've gotten pretty good, I think, at stifling laughter in certain occasions, to avoid angering, embarrassing or irritating my children.
But there are times... when it is nearly impossible... not to bust right out... in side-clutching hilarity.
This episode was most certainly one of those times.
Last Friday, I went to pick the kids up from school. As we were walking to the car, Reece pulled out a toy cell phone he'd snuck into his book bag, and started to "take a call."
He looked at the screen.
"It's my girlfriend," he sighed, slightly annoyed.
He flipped open the phone with mastery level flipping skills, to answer this pestering call from his imaginary girlfriend. The following is what I hear:
"Yeah, hi, babe. How are you?"
Pause.
"Mmm. OK."
Pause.
"Yeah. Love you, too. See you later."
Snap.
Call ended.
[sigh] "She just bugs me."
Now I've gotten pretty good, I think, at stifling laughter in certain occasions, to avoid angering, embarrassing or irritating my children.
But there are times... when it is nearly impossible... not to bust right out... in side-clutching hilarity.
This episode was most certainly one of those times.
Let's Do the Time Warp Again!
It HAS been a time warp. Just two postings after promising myself to keep this blog up on a more consistent basis, I am back after an unintentional hiatus. It was June five minutes ago, I swear. And now it's early September. I don't remember seeing the cosmic worm hole I obviously fell into, transporting me instantly two and a half months in the future. All I know is, I was in my kitchen in Ottawa on a beautiful June day, blogging away about Galen leaving his job in a matter of mere days... and NOW I'm sitting in my den in Lindsborg on a beautiful September afternoon, blogging about how all of those aforementioned plans went to pot.
Although, on second thought... I don't think I can get into the past two and half months in just a few paragraphs. It wouldn't be fair to a potential reader to REALLY get into what happened. I can give more Reader's Digest Condensed Versions, fer sher. Galen's job in Ottawa ended, not at the end of June, but the end of July. The administration kicked up a huge fuss over his announcement in June to take the lay-off and leave, and their reaction was to dangle a severance package over his head to bleed out one more month of work from him.
While all of this was going on, Galen interviewed here in Lindsborg. They loved him, he loved them, and a new job opportunity was born. To the end point - we loaded up the truck and we moved to The 'Borg. (You can sing that sentence to "The Beverly Hillbillies" if you want. We have.) And it's going okay. It's a whole new world of opportunity. Some day I might just spew forth on my continuous astonishment over Life's twists and turns. I never thought I'd live in a town this size. But it's a nice town. We've been impressed with everything. And we've been blessed. More details will emerge, I've no doubt, over the ensuing months of reflection and analysis. Just bear with me.
The individual Bunning updates I think I'll save for another blog. I have a small person here needing my attention, anyway.
To wrap up... watch out for Worm Holes.
Although, on second thought... I don't think I can get into the past two and half months in just a few paragraphs. It wouldn't be fair to a potential reader to REALLY get into what happened. I can give more Reader's Digest Condensed Versions, fer sher. Galen's job in Ottawa ended, not at the end of June, but the end of July. The administration kicked up a huge fuss over his announcement in June to take the lay-off and leave, and their reaction was to dangle a severance package over his head to bleed out one more month of work from him.
While all of this was going on, Galen interviewed here in Lindsborg. They loved him, he loved them, and a new job opportunity was born. To the end point - we loaded up the truck and we moved to The 'Borg. (You can sing that sentence to "The Beverly Hillbillies" if you want. We have.) And it's going okay. It's a whole new world of opportunity. Some day I might just spew forth on my continuous astonishment over Life's twists and turns. I never thought I'd live in a town this size. But it's a nice town. We've been impressed with everything. And we've been blessed. More details will emerge, I've no doubt, over the ensuing months of reflection and analysis. Just bear with me.
The individual Bunning updates I think I'll save for another blog. I have a small person here needing my attention, anyway.
To wrap up... watch out for Worm Holes.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Turn the page, end the chapter, close the book...???
The latest update from the "Galen Job Watch."
Galen and the rest of the Admissions counsellors at OU are for all intents and purposes laid off. They have been encouraged to apply for the new "field representative" positions the university is moving to in July, but Galen feels this is God's way of showing him out of his current situation. Galen has decided not to apply for further employment at OU. His last day is June 26.
This was not a decision made lightly or hastily. We both fully appreciate the risk being taken, of leaving employment, stepping into a recession-burdened economy, without having anything else lined up. While staying at OU until he has another job makes a lot of sense in many ways, it also means precious little time to devote to actually finding the new position, which the past few months have already shown Galen. Plus, to be frank, he just can't take it anymore. It's time to go.
Galen honestly and truly believes God's Hand is in this step he's taking. I have seen him more at peace the past couple of days than I've seen him be in the past few months. I trust him, and I trust Him, too. God will use this time for His glory, one way or another. Galen has already sent out about half-a-dozen resumes around the country and has a list of about twenty more places to send some to. He is networking as much as he possibly can. We are holding ourselves open to any and every possibility. We've even looked into foreign missions, which admittedly, I'm more excited about than he is right now. :-)
But, all I can conclude with is, the Lord will provide. We'll see what happens. We very much appreciate any prayers and support right now. If you want to pray for anything immediate and specific, there is one job in particular Galen has applied for which he'd VERY much like to get, but they haven't called him back for an interview yet.
We're sad. We're hopeful. We're anxious. We're praising. I'm not sure right now, sitting here today what the right analogy is for this. Life is too vast a tale, constantly in the rough draft-writing stage, to fully realize whether we are are turning another page, ending a chapter, or closing an entire volume. I think only hindsight will provide that INsight.
Galen and the rest of the Admissions counsellors at OU are for all intents and purposes laid off. They have been encouraged to apply for the new "field representative" positions the university is moving to in July, but Galen feels this is God's way of showing him out of his current situation. Galen has decided not to apply for further employment at OU. His last day is June 26.
This was not a decision made lightly or hastily. We both fully appreciate the risk being taken, of leaving employment, stepping into a recession-burdened economy, without having anything else lined up. While staying at OU until he has another job makes a lot of sense in many ways, it also means precious little time to devote to actually finding the new position, which the past few months have already shown Galen. Plus, to be frank, he just can't take it anymore. It's time to go.
Galen honestly and truly believes God's Hand is in this step he's taking. I have seen him more at peace the past couple of days than I've seen him be in the past few months. I trust him, and I trust Him, too. God will use this time for His glory, one way or another. Galen has already sent out about half-a-dozen resumes around the country and has a list of about twenty more places to send some to. He is networking as much as he possibly can. We are holding ourselves open to any and every possibility. We've even looked into foreign missions, which admittedly, I'm more excited about than he is right now. :-)
But, all I can conclude with is, the Lord will provide. We'll see what happens. We very much appreciate any prayers and support right now. If you want to pray for anything immediate and specific, there is one job in particular Galen has applied for which he'd VERY much like to get, but they haven't called him back for an interview yet.
We're sad. We're hopeful. We're anxious. We're praising. I'm not sure right now, sitting here today what the right analogy is for this. Life is too vast a tale, constantly in the rough draft-writing stage, to fully realize whether we are are turning another page, ending a chapter, or closing an entire volume. I think only hindsight will provide that INsight.
Updates
I know, I know, I know...
I've looked at a calendar recently.
It's June. This is my first blog in two months.
Don't start. I know.
Excuses? I have none. I just simply kept putting this off. Things have been going on. (And how.) Occasionally the thought would zip across my wee little brain, "I need to update the blog." And then, I'd go do something else.
Although I guess technically, I do have ONE excuse: For about two weeks our computer crashed, and even if I completely devoted every ounce of my mind, strength and will to logging on and blogging... I couldn't have.
On second thought, though, if THAT determined, I could have borrowed someone else's computer, or gone to the library or something.
Hmmm...
OK, I guess I don't have any excuse.
Sorry.
For what it's worth, I'm back. Ta-da.
I've looked at a calendar recently.
It's June. This is my first blog in two months.
Don't start. I know.
Excuses? I have none. I just simply kept putting this off. Things have been going on. (And how.) Occasionally the thought would zip across my wee little brain, "I need to update the blog." And then, I'd go do something else.
Although I guess technically, I do have ONE excuse: For about two weeks our computer crashed, and even if I completely devoted every ounce of my mind, strength and will to logging on and blogging... I couldn't have.
On second thought, though, if THAT determined, I could have borrowed someone else's computer, or gone to the library or something.
Hmmm...
OK, I guess I don't have any excuse.
Sorry.
For what it's worth, I'm back. Ta-da.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
You're HOW old, again?
And so it starts:
The other day we were talking about plans for the month of April, and I turned to my youngest son, who is celebrating his sixth birthday in April, and asked him, "What do you want to do for your birthday?"
Without missing a beat, he replies, "A party. And I want GIRLS to be there, Mom."
***
Our middle son recently got KU-blue highlights in his hair. He's been wanting to do this for months now. Galen's and my philosophy in this realm is rather relaxed. "So long as you're clean and covered, we're happy." So, during Spring Break, off we went to my hair-person, Lou, and she did a great job. As we walk in the door coming home from the appointment, my oldest son immediately starts in on teasing and chiding his younger brother about his hair, expecting a rise out of him. AJ very calmly waits for a break in Kagen's ramble, and says almost under his breath, "Well, the girls dig me no matter what my hair looks like."
Kagen hasn't made mention of AJ's hair since.
***
This last one isn't funny, so much as it was odd, and I feel compelled to share it.
About a month ago, Kagen went to a Christian concert with our church's youth group, and got home rather late at night. An hour after he came home and we all went to bed, the phone rang. Thinking it was someone from church, informing us of a wallet or MP3 player Kagen had left behind or something, I answered the phone.
It was a girl I didn't recognize, asking for Kagen.
Still trying to rise out of my sleep-induced stupor, I told his cute young thing very politely, "Kagen is not available right now. Can you call back *in the morning*?" We exchanged good-byes and I hung up. I'm just a cool Mom that way.
It wasn't until I plopped myself back in bed that it really hit me what had just happened. Not only had a GIRL called... but called at 1:00am to talk with my son about something. What the flip? Is she SERIOUS?
My musings were short-lived, as that a mere fifteen minutes later, the phone rang again.
The time for coolness is over.
I picked up the phone and said the following: "Darlin' it is one o'clock in the morning. People are sleeping in the world right now. Please do not call again until morning." And I hung up on her.
Yes, I told Kagen about it the next morning. He reacted with a decent mix of laughter and embarrassment. I got the distinct impression I had not beleagured a budding romance or anything. But my Cool Mom peg did slide down a notch or two.
Casualties of love and war, apparently.
***
The other day we were talking about plans for the month of April, and I turned to my youngest son, who is celebrating his sixth birthday in April, and asked him, "What do you want to do for your birthday?"
Without missing a beat, he replies, "A party. And I want GIRLS to be there, Mom."
***
Our middle son recently got KU-blue highlights in his hair. He's been wanting to do this for months now. Galen's and my philosophy in this realm is rather relaxed. "So long as you're clean and covered, we're happy." So, during Spring Break, off we went to my hair-person, Lou, and she did a great job. As we walk in the door coming home from the appointment, my oldest son immediately starts in on teasing and chiding his younger brother about his hair, expecting a rise out of him. AJ very calmly waits for a break in Kagen's ramble, and says almost under his breath, "Well, the girls dig me no matter what my hair looks like."
Kagen hasn't made mention of AJ's hair since.
***
This last one isn't funny, so much as it was odd, and I feel compelled to share it.
About a month ago, Kagen went to a Christian concert with our church's youth group, and got home rather late at night. An hour after he came home and we all went to bed, the phone rang. Thinking it was someone from church, informing us of a wallet or MP3 player Kagen had left behind or something, I answered the phone.
It was a girl I didn't recognize, asking for Kagen.
Still trying to rise out of my sleep-induced stupor, I told his cute young thing very politely, "Kagen is not available right now. Can you call back *in the morning*?" We exchanged good-byes and I hung up. I'm just a cool Mom that way.
It wasn't until I plopped myself back in bed that it really hit me what had just happened. Not only had a GIRL called... but called at 1:00am to talk with my son about something. What the flip? Is she SERIOUS?
My musings were short-lived, as that a mere fifteen minutes later, the phone rang again.
The time for coolness is over.
I picked up the phone and said the following: "Darlin' it is one o'clock in the morning. People are sleeping in the world right now. Please do not call again until morning." And I hung up on her.
Yes, I told Kagen about it the next morning. He reacted with a decent mix of laughter and embarrassment. I got the distinct impression I had not beleagured a budding romance or anything. But my Cool Mom peg did slide down a notch or two.
Casualties of love and war, apparently.
***
Monday, March 23, 2009
A Parallel Universe
I'm thirty-four, for your information.
This, in and of itself, is no big deal to me. I do not delude myself about aging, or getting older, or maturing, or whatever you want to call it. I realize full well, that, no matter what my oldest son says, I'm still very young in life. I'm over it, trust me.
But what does get to me about being thrity-four is how vastly different my life is now at this age, than what I had once envisioned for myself looking ahead to this age. I do not so much long for the life I had once idealized for myself, as it's just so... DIFFERENT from what I thought it would be. Robert Frost's poem about the road less travelled has been hitting me between the eyes the past few birthdays.
See, what was SUPPOSED to happen at the age of thirty-four was this: Two B.A.'s in music and music education under my hat, in addition to a master's degree from a conservatory as yet unnamed. I would have left my educational pursuits after my master's degree and failed on the professional circuit for a couple of years, but nonetheless gleaning valuable life-long experience and wisdom from the myriad of big cities, snooty orhcestras, and gruelling auditions I will have willingly walked myself into. THEN, I was going to take on teaching at a private studio or university. Believe it or not, I even had envisioned going from a university teaching position to directing a high school vocal program. Somewhere in my late twenties, I would meet Mr. Right and consdier getting married after the age of thirty. Somewhere around the age of thrity-five, we might possibly consider having a child. Maybe two. Depends. Before Kagen was born, I had no idea how I'd do around small children. Older kids, no problem. But younger ones??? Well...
Oh, how vastly different life has turned out! As in, laughably so! Again, with what I hope is a genuine acceptance and contentment of God's will in my life, and not a painful facade veiling a deep-seated quiet desperation, I do not long for what I once thought would be. Really. I have been placed where I am unmistakenly by the Author of Life, and so much of my life as it is NOW is so blessed with God's love and grace, how can I long for anything else? Different, but not inferior in anyway.
I spent my thirty-fourth birthday last Saturday, not thinking about maybe having a child and hashing out the pros, cons, whys and wherefores with my husband of a couple of years, but I DID spend it with my husband of 12.5 years, and our four children at a park, having a picnic, where we got messy, dirty, wind-swept and worn out with the fun.
God can be SO obvious sometimes, can't He?
This, in and of itself, is no big deal to me. I do not delude myself about aging, or getting older, or maturing, or whatever you want to call it. I realize full well, that, no matter what my oldest son says, I'm still very young in life. I'm over it, trust me.
But what does get to me about being thrity-four is how vastly different my life is now at this age, than what I had once envisioned for myself looking ahead to this age. I do not so much long for the life I had once idealized for myself, as it's just so... DIFFERENT from what I thought it would be. Robert Frost's poem about the road less travelled has been hitting me between the eyes the past few birthdays.
See, what was SUPPOSED to happen at the age of thirty-four was this: Two B.A.'s in music and music education under my hat, in addition to a master's degree from a conservatory as yet unnamed. I would have left my educational pursuits after my master's degree and failed on the professional circuit for a couple of years, but nonetheless gleaning valuable life-long experience and wisdom from the myriad of big cities, snooty orhcestras, and gruelling auditions I will have willingly walked myself into. THEN, I was going to take on teaching at a private studio or university. Believe it or not, I even had envisioned going from a university teaching position to directing a high school vocal program. Somewhere in my late twenties, I would meet Mr. Right and consdier getting married after the age of thirty. Somewhere around the age of thrity-five, we might possibly consider having a child. Maybe two. Depends. Before Kagen was born, I had no idea how I'd do around small children. Older kids, no problem. But younger ones??? Well...
Oh, how vastly different life has turned out! As in, laughably so! Again, with what I hope is a genuine acceptance and contentment of God's will in my life, and not a painful facade veiling a deep-seated quiet desperation, I do not long for what I once thought would be. Really. I have been placed where I am unmistakenly by the Author of Life, and so much of my life as it is NOW is so blessed with God's love and grace, how can I long for anything else? Different, but not inferior in anyway.
I spent my thirty-fourth birthday last Saturday, not thinking about maybe having a child and hashing out the pros, cons, whys and wherefores with my husband of a couple of years, but I DID spend it with my husband of 12.5 years, and our four children at a park, having a picnic, where we got messy, dirty, wind-swept and worn out with the fun.
God can be SO obvious sometimes, can't He?
Thursday, March 5, 2009
If you're not in Kansas today, I feel sorry for you.
It's 78 degrees today, which is fantastic in and of itself. Forty-eight hours ago, it was *just* above freezing and there was snow on the ground. (The midwest is a meteorologist's DREAM, I tell ya.)
But what I'm REALLY excited about, is something I saw in my yard today.
Today, I saw in my dilapidated ol' flower bed some tiny green shoots just peeking out from the old mulch.
That one dash of green amongst the sea of sad brown in one fell swoop wiped away my "winter contentment" and has infected me henceforth with "spring fever." Talk about your air-borne viruses. I don't know if there's an antibiotic for this particular fever, but even if there is, I don't want it. It's a fever I'm savoring right now. I will relish in it for WEEKS, I promise you.
And, it's a fever most likely all the more complicated by the rash treatment we made on our old shrubs late last fall.
Let me ellucidate this backstory:
It starts with my house color: I hate it. I have since I first laid eyes on it. It's just not me, not US. I've been itching and planning to get it all painted away since we closed on the house, no lie. Compounding that problem was my deep-seated dislike on the over-grown barbury and evergreen shrubs which were dominating the front facade.
Last fall, I had in my wee little brain the idea that "now" would be the perfect time and weather to paint. But, of course, we have to get rid of the old shrubs first! That just makes sense, right?!
So we organized a day for both sets of our parents to come to our house, with chains and ball-hitches in tow, and yank that horrid flora-mess out of my yard.
Said yanking and further lawn clean up ensued relatively easily enough, praise be. SO, now... it's time to paint.
Late September went by... still plenty of time.
Early October slipped through our fingers... well, we were busier than we thought we'd be.
Late October zipped past, laughing and pointing at us... WHEN are we going to get this done?
Early November was a blur... Do we dare start NOW?
And then... Thankgiving. I had to admit defeat.
So, the roots of any existing flora lying dormant in the ground hasn't been the only thing "sleeping" this winter. My precious manilla folder containing my paint samples and landscape plans has been gathering dust in my desk drawer.
And now, according to that one glance of that one small green shoot, it's time to rifle out my plans and succumb to the fire of the fever.
Spring Fever, that is.
[sniff]
Just enjoy...
It's 78 degrees today, which is fantastic in and of itself. Forty-eight hours ago, it was *just* above freezing and there was snow on the ground. (The midwest is a meteorologist's DREAM, I tell ya.)
But what I'm REALLY excited about, is something I saw in my yard today.
Today, I saw in my dilapidated ol' flower bed some tiny green shoots just peeking out from the old mulch.
That one dash of green amongst the sea of sad brown in one fell swoop wiped away my "winter contentment" and has infected me henceforth with "spring fever." Talk about your air-borne viruses. I don't know if there's an antibiotic for this particular fever, but even if there is, I don't want it. It's a fever I'm savoring right now. I will relish in it for WEEKS, I promise you.
And, it's a fever most likely all the more complicated by the rash treatment we made on our old shrubs late last fall.
Let me ellucidate this backstory:
It starts with my house color: I hate it. I have since I first laid eyes on it. It's just not me, not US. I've been itching and planning to get it all painted away since we closed on the house, no lie. Compounding that problem was my deep-seated dislike on the over-grown barbury and evergreen shrubs which were dominating the front facade.
Last fall, I had in my wee little brain the idea that "now" would be the perfect time and weather to paint. But, of course, we have to get rid of the old shrubs first! That just makes sense, right?!
So we organized a day for both sets of our parents to come to our house, with chains and ball-hitches in tow, and yank that horrid flora-mess out of my yard.
Said yanking and further lawn clean up ensued relatively easily enough, praise be. SO, now... it's time to paint.
Late September went by... still plenty of time.
Early October slipped through our fingers... well, we were busier than we thought we'd be.
Late October zipped past, laughing and pointing at us... WHEN are we going to get this done?
Early November was a blur... Do we dare start NOW?
And then... Thankgiving. I had to admit defeat.
So, the roots of any existing flora lying dormant in the ground hasn't been the only thing "sleeping" this winter. My precious manilla folder containing my paint samples and landscape plans has been gathering dust in my desk drawer.
And now, according to that one glance of that one small green shoot, it's time to rifle out my plans and succumb to the fire of the fever.
Spring Fever, that is.
[sniff]
Just enjoy...
Monday, February 23, 2009
Monkey See, Monkey Do, Part 7639
Just another example of "I didn't even realize she was watching that!" :
Today I sat down at the piano for a couple of minutes, just to noodle around and unwind for a minute. Emilie very quietly came over nearby and was fiddling with something just out of view. Before I knew it, she had set up Kagen's music stand, opened some sheet music she found, grabbed a pencil, and was "directing the choir" behind me. I was now her accompanist.
I kept on playing the piano, just to see what she'd do.
Sure enough, after a minute or so, she started talking loudly over the music to the "choir," "Now get louder here!", "OK, let's stop right here and try that again at 24," "Take out your pencils and write this down, please!", and other common colloquialisms of my direct-atorial style with our church choir on Wednesday nights.
At one point I started to chuckle at her, and she just shot me a scathing look. "We need to finish this, Mom. Now can you start us at this spot?" (and she pointed out where I was to begin).
Ahem. Yes, ma'am.
Note to self: Be nicer to my accompanist.
Today I sat down at the piano for a couple of minutes, just to noodle around and unwind for a minute. Emilie very quietly came over nearby and was fiddling with something just out of view. Before I knew it, she had set up Kagen's music stand, opened some sheet music she found, grabbed a pencil, and was "directing the choir" behind me. I was now her accompanist.
I kept on playing the piano, just to see what she'd do.
Sure enough, after a minute or so, she started talking loudly over the music to the "choir," "Now get louder here!", "OK, let's stop right here and try that again at 24," "Take out your pencils and write this down, please!", and other common colloquialisms of my direct-atorial style with our church choir on Wednesday nights.
At one point I started to chuckle at her, and she just shot me a scathing look. "We need to finish this, Mom. Now can you start us at this spot?" (and she pointed out where I was to begin).
Ahem. Yes, ma'am.
Note to self: Be nicer to my accompanist.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Well, it's a new post, anyway...
I was told it is time to post something new, and I agree.
I don't have a lot to share that's print-worthy. I can tell you Galen is handling the transition to the "new" office well (typical). Ask him how it's going, and he shrugs noncommittally. "It is what it is," he says. He has a new idea for a career path that's got him kind of revved up, and I'm more glad to see that spark in him again, than anything else.
I have been keeping an eye on the job market for the past eight months, looking for an opening in some part-time position. The scare with Galen's job earlier this month has only increased the thoughts that perhaps it's time for Blakely to go back to full-time work sooner than originally planned. We'd hoped to wait until the youngest child went to kindergarten, that's always been our ideal scenario. Even a month ago I was thinking to myself we just might be able to make that goal happen.
[snicker] Ah, well...
Once upon a time I learned the hard way that my plans for my life are decidedly different than God's plans, to the point where He brought me to my knees and turned my whole world upside-down to make His point. And I'm certainly finding that out all over again now, only in a bit more subdued way, praise be. So, I'm handing it back over to Him, and re-learning what it tastes like to swallow my pride. Again.
But that's a separate post... :-)
I don't have a lot to share that's print-worthy. I can tell you Galen is handling the transition to the "new" office well (typical). Ask him how it's going, and he shrugs noncommittally. "It is what it is," he says. He has a new idea for a career path that's got him kind of revved up, and I'm more glad to see that spark in him again, than anything else.
I have been keeping an eye on the job market for the past eight months, looking for an opening in some part-time position. The scare with Galen's job earlier this month has only increased the thoughts that perhaps it's time for Blakely to go back to full-time work sooner than originally planned. We'd hoped to wait until the youngest child went to kindergarten, that's always been our ideal scenario. Even a month ago I was thinking to myself we just might be able to make that goal happen.
[snicker] Ah, well...
Once upon a time I learned the hard way that my plans for my life are decidedly different than God's plans, to the point where He brought me to my knees and turned my whole world upside-down to make His point. And I'm certainly finding that out all over again now, only in a bit more subdued way, praise be. So, I'm handing it back over to Him, and re-learning what it tastes like to swallow my pride. Again.
But that's a separate post... :-)
Friday, February 6, 2009
Yank, Thud and Shake
The economy hit our family this week.
I got a call from Galen yesterday afternoon.
"They cut five of us, hon."
"Us?" I think. "You mean to say, 'They cut five of THEM', right?"
"Me, and four others. We've been let go."
[Yank.]
Galen continues later that day, "I have two options. Severance package, or a 'redeployment' position in the Sales office." Further details are ellucidated.
Sales? But you were promoted from Sales three years ago. Really? Sales? As in, back on the road, twelve hour days, meeting quotas... that Sales?
"I'm thirty four years old, and I'm back where I started. Where am I going? What am I doing? It's like two steps forward, and three steps back, you know?"
[Thud.]
"It's more than what most people have. It's a scary time to be out of work. If the economy were better, I'd take the severance package and go somewhere else."
If the economy were better, you wouldn't have been let go.
"We have debt, four kids, and a need for continued benefits. It's a steady paycheck. That's more than what most people have right now, hon. Somebody fought to give me this opportunity to stay with this institution. They could have just as easily fired me outright, with no options at all."
True... We still have reasons to praise. It's something. It's something to hang on to while we try to find the ground underneath us again.
I look at Galen's crestfallen face.
I just want you to be happy. I don't want you to be hurting like this. I want you to LOVE going to work. And you LOVE your job where you are. Where you were.
"God has taken care of us through much worse," I say. "We can all make this work. We'll all do what we need to do, and we'll be fine. The same Hand that is sovereign over this is the same Hand that is going to carry us through it."
Maybe we were getting too comfortable in our lives, and God decided it was time to shake things up a bit.
[Shake.]
Shake off your pride, the Lord says. Shake off your self-imposed sense of security. I am the only security you'll ever need. Shake off your ideas of your plans, your successes, your future. I know the plans I have for you. Nothing you have has ever been yours. It's Mine. You have no right to temper tantrums over what I've ordained for you. My thoughts are not your thoughts, My ways are not your ways. I have brought you out of bondage. My grace is sufficient for you. Turn to Me, and let Me shake the fruit out of the tree of your lives, and let's see what's really being produced.
Here I am, Lord. Here we are.
I got a call from Galen yesterday afternoon.
"They cut five of us, hon."
"Us?" I think. "You mean to say, 'They cut five of THEM', right?"
"Me, and four others. We've been let go."
[Yank.]
Galen continues later that day, "I have two options. Severance package, or a 'redeployment' position in the Sales office." Further details are ellucidated.
Sales? But you were promoted from Sales three years ago. Really? Sales? As in, back on the road, twelve hour days, meeting quotas... that Sales?
"I'm thirty four years old, and I'm back where I started. Where am I going? What am I doing? It's like two steps forward, and three steps back, you know?"
[Thud.]
"It's more than what most people have. It's a scary time to be out of work. If the economy were better, I'd take the severance package and go somewhere else."
If the economy were better, you wouldn't have been let go.
"We have debt, four kids, and a need for continued benefits. It's a steady paycheck. That's more than what most people have right now, hon. Somebody fought to give me this opportunity to stay with this institution. They could have just as easily fired me outright, with no options at all."
True... We still have reasons to praise. It's something. It's something to hang on to while we try to find the ground underneath us again.
I look at Galen's crestfallen face.
I just want you to be happy. I don't want you to be hurting like this. I want you to LOVE going to work. And you LOVE your job where you are. Where you were.
"God has taken care of us through much worse," I say. "We can all make this work. We'll all do what we need to do, and we'll be fine. The same Hand that is sovereign over this is the same Hand that is going to carry us through it."
Maybe we were getting too comfortable in our lives, and God decided it was time to shake things up a bit.
[Shake.]
Shake off your pride, the Lord says. Shake off your self-imposed sense of security. I am the only security you'll ever need. Shake off your ideas of your plans, your successes, your future. I know the plans I have for you. Nothing you have has ever been yours. It's Mine. You have no right to temper tantrums over what I've ordained for you. My thoughts are not your thoughts, My ways are not your ways. I have brought you out of bondage. My grace is sufficient for you. Turn to Me, and let Me shake the fruit out of the tree of your lives, and let's see what's really being produced.
Here I am, Lord. Here we are.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Whither the Weekend?
Ah, the weekend.
A flighty temptress is she.
I just enjoyed a particularly agreeable one with a group of my college girlfriends. Once a year, we shed the many-colored coats of our husbands, children, and normal lives to get together and don the gold-sequined garb of giggly college girls once again. We all enjoy making scrapbooks for our families, so we work on those, providing excellent fodder for catching up on each other's worlds. We watch chick-flicks (which, I admit, is not my personal favorite genre of movies, but it's not all bad, either. However, if I'm subjected to "The Cutting Edge" with Moira Kelley and DB Sweeney one more time...). And, most prominently featured in our weekends together - we LAUGH. A lot. I have some really insane friends, holy cow. Praise the Lord I'm so straight-laced and level-headed, lemme tell ya...
I've noticed this in year's past, but while we're together, it's as if my whole world of family, work, stress, joys... LIFE... is condensed down and folded up, as though to put in a locket to wear near my heart. Still there, and still precious... but yet smaller somehow. I open this locket up to show the girls what's inside, but then it's all tucked back in, and existence as I know it balloons out to what's going on with these wonderful women. We relax, we share, we eat, we sleep, we're quiet, we work, we solve the world's problems, we pray over the smaller ones happening in our own worlds we can't so easily solve, we are serious, we are silly.
And when our weekend is over, the reverse happens. The time with my friends is condensed down and folded up, put in it's own locket... still there, still precious... and my blessed and crazy regular world takes it's place once more.
In a different vein, you know the REALLY funny thing about our weekends together?
We work on scrapbooks, right? Meaning, pictures. And preserving memories. Of good times. With people we love. Right. So, one would think a group of college-educated, well-rounded, intelligent women would all think to... oh, I don't know... BRING A CAMERA AND TAKE PICTURES OF OUR WEEKENDS TOGETHER!
Thank God for Adrienne, though. She remembers. The rest of us? We're all slapping our foreheads, saying to each other, "Oh yeah!..."
Good Heavens. But I warned you, didn't I?... We're an insane bunch.
God bless'em all.
A flighty temptress is she.
I just enjoyed a particularly agreeable one with a group of my college girlfriends. Once a year, we shed the many-colored coats of our husbands, children, and normal lives to get together and don the gold-sequined garb of giggly college girls once again. We all enjoy making scrapbooks for our families, so we work on those, providing excellent fodder for catching up on each other's worlds. We watch chick-flicks (which, I admit, is not my personal favorite genre of movies, but it's not all bad, either. However, if I'm subjected to "The Cutting Edge" with Moira Kelley and DB Sweeney one more time...). And, most prominently featured in our weekends together - we LAUGH. A lot. I have some really insane friends, holy cow. Praise the Lord I'm so straight-laced and level-headed, lemme tell ya...
I've noticed this in year's past, but while we're together, it's as if my whole world of family, work, stress, joys... LIFE... is condensed down and folded up, as though to put in a locket to wear near my heart. Still there, and still precious... but yet smaller somehow. I open this locket up to show the girls what's inside, but then it's all tucked back in, and existence as I know it balloons out to what's going on with these wonderful women. We relax, we share, we eat, we sleep, we're quiet, we work, we solve the world's problems, we pray over the smaller ones happening in our own worlds we can't so easily solve, we are serious, we are silly.
And when our weekend is over, the reverse happens. The time with my friends is condensed down and folded up, put in it's own locket... still there, still precious... and my blessed and crazy regular world takes it's place once more.
In a different vein, you know the REALLY funny thing about our weekends together?
We work on scrapbooks, right? Meaning, pictures. And preserving memories. Of good times. With people we love. Right. So, one would think a group of college-educated, well-rounded, intelligent women would all think to... oh, I don't know... BRING A CAMERA AND TAKE PICTURES OF OUR WEEKENDS TOGETHER!
Thank God for Adrienne, though. She remembers. The rest of us? We're all slapping our foreheads, saying to each other, "Oh yeah!..."
Good Heavens. But I warned you, didn't I?... We're an insane bunch.
God bless'em all.
Monday, January 26, 2009
We'll miss these days... I've been told.
I love listening to the words of parents of teenagers or those who have recently raised teenagers. I could sit at their knees, eyes upturned with rapt attention, hanging on every word. "Please, in the name of all things decent... how do I get through these upcoming years intact ?!?!?!" is my cry.
The number one phrase I hear from this particular demographic, above any other, is "Enjoy them now... Before you know it, they'll be grown and gone."
OK, I can jive with that. I believe it completely, and I take that advice to heart. No problems there.
The second most popular phrase I hear is more often uttered when my children are loud, misbehaving or in some way boisterous in public, "You'll miss this someday, trust me."
OK, I do trust you in life... but in my naivete', I just have to say... I don't believe you.
It has been twelve years since my husband and I have been able to finish one complete sentence to each other (or the person on the other end of the phone) without interruption or distraction. TWELVE YEARS. It's been about seven years since I could go out in public with my children without warning one of them of the consequences of not behaving properly. Ten years since I've not had to ask a small person leaving a bathroom if he/she flushed, and washed... with soap... and water. Surely I'm not the only parent with young children who goes through this kind of thing. So, in my rationale, I respectfully submit the theory that those who are telling me I will miss "these days" are too far removed from "these days" and are currently looking at them through much more rose-colored glasses. Hind-sight ain't always 20-20. It's filtered, my friend.
For example:
Tonight at the dinner table, the end of the meal dissolved into a quasi-wrestling match (bottoms still firmly planted in seats, though, thank you... Lesson learned there!) between my oldest and youngest sons. My second oldest and my daughter were cracking each other up with a who-can-stuff-the-most-crackers-in-his/her-mouth competition. It was loud. It was unmannerly. It was crazy. Visions of dinner dates or business luncheons in my childrens' futures flashed before my eyes, and the disgusted looks on their dining companion's faces taunted my parenting skills. I'm going to miss THIS... really?
But now as I type this, I look across the family room. The TV is off. Reece is knee-deep in a adventurous world of his design. Kagen is hashing out a homework problem with his dad. AJ is practicing juggling (ever looking to learn a new skill, that one is). Emilie is curled up next to Daddy, in her usual position of just enjoying closeness with a loved one. Soon, they'll be in bed, prayers uttered, stories told, covers tucked.
Right now, in the family room, our attentions are important to them. Our opinions matter. We have presense and purpose in their lives.
Well, OK... THAT I will miss.
[sigh]
The number one phrase I hear from this particular demographic, above any other, is "Enjoy them now... Before you know it, they'll be grown and gone."
OK, I can jive with that. I believe it completely, and I take that advice to heart. No problems there.
The second most popular phrase I hear is more often uttered when my children are loud, misbehaving or in some way boisterous in public, "You'll miss this someday, trust me."
OK, I do trust you in life... but in my naivete', I just have to say... I don't believe you.
It has been twelve years since my husband and I have been able to finish one complete sentence to each other (or the person on the other end of the phone) without interruption or distraction. TWELVE YEARS. It's been about seven years since I could go out in public with my children without warning one of them of the consequences of not behaving properly. Ten years since I've not had to ask a small person leaving a bathroom if he/she flushed, and washed... with soap... and water. Surely I'm not the only parent with young children who goes through this kind of thing. So, in my rationale, I respectfully submit the theory that those who are telling me I will miss "these days" are too far removed from "these days" and are currently looking at them through much more rose-colored glasses. Hind-sight ain't always 20-20. It's filtered, my friend.
For example:
Tonight at the dinner table, the end of the meal dissolved into a quasi-wrestling match (bottoms still firmly planted in seats, though, thank you... Lesson learned there!) between my oldest and youngest sons. My second oldest and my daughter were cracking each other up with a who-can-stuff-the-most-crackers-in-his/her-mouth competition. It was loud. It was unmannerly. It was crazy. Visions of dinner dates or business luncheons in my childrens' futures flashed before my eyes, and the disgusted looks on their dining companion's faces taunted my parenting skills. I'm going to miss THIS... really?
But now as I type this, I look across the family room. The TV is off. Reece is knee-deep in a adventurous world of his design. Kagen is hashing out a homework problem with his dad. AJ is practicing juggling (ever looking to learn a new skill, that one is). Emilie is curled up next to Daddy, in her usual position of just enjoying closeness with a loved one. Soon, they'll be in bed, prayers uttered, stories told, covers tucked.
Right now, in the family room, our attentions are important to them. Our opinions matter. We have presense and purpose in their lives.
Well, OK... THAT I will miss.
[sigh]
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Dawning of Self-Awareness in a Four Year Old
Thursday afternoon Emilie and I are relaxing over a hearty lunch, and I enter into my usual barrage of "how was your day today" questions about preschool. Everything was it's usual wonderful self, praise be. At the end of the conversation, Emilie tells me, "Dr. Spratt was there at the end of school today." (Our family doctor is married to one of Emilie's preschool teachers.)
"He was?" I replied. "Did you say 'Hi' to him?"
"No," came her answer. Then after a beat, "But he's nice. I really need to stop screaming at him at the doctor's office."
Three days later, and I'm still chuckling over that one.
"He was?" I replied. "Did you say 'Hi' to him?"
"No," came her answer. Then after a beat, "But he's nice. I really need to stop screaming at him at the doctor's office."
Three days later, and I'm still chuckling over that one.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Ta-Da!
The Maiden Voyage of an amateur blogger.
I resisted as long as I could, but I've finally succumbed. Peer pressure is alive and well, my friends. At the risk of sounding 13 years old again, all my friends (and by " all" I mean three that I know of) are creating family blogs, and The Hubs talked me into creating one for us, as well.
All in the name of taking up cyber-space, I guess!
But *I* think my family is pretty fascinating, darn it. I hope you do, too.
[a ship's horn sounds in the distance]
Let the voyage begin...
I resisted as long as I could, but I've finally succumbed. Peer pressure is alive and well, my friends. At the risk of sounding 13 years old again, all my friends (and by " all" I mean three that I know of) are creating family blogs, and The Hubs talked me into creating one for us, as well.
All in the name of taking up cyber-space, I guess!
But *I* think my family is pretty fascinating, darn it. I hope you do, too.
[a ship's horn sounds in the distance]
Let the voyage begin...
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