Soup

I'm not sure what it is about turkey soup in particular, but every time I make it I feel like a wonderful wife & mother. Maybe it's something about using every bit of an animal & using so many vegetables that have been in the fridge for a while-- it makes me happy to not waste anything. Maybe it's knowing that I'm making something nutritious that's also stinkin' tasty. I love being able to customize the recipe for what we like-- lots of carrots & onions for jake, extra rosemary & garlic for me.
There's just something so homey about making a big pot of soup on a chilly day. I love knowing that we'll be able to eat this for several days (including when Dan & I are out of town, so Jake will feel my love from far away), and we'll be able to have good, good food in the freezer for a lazy day.

I sound like Susie-freakin-Homemaker, but this makes me happy. :) I wish you all could come over to smell this & share the love.

Wanderlust

I'm tired tonight. It's not a good tired, from a day well spent, or a bad tired, when the day was just too much. Just tired. I feel like I have nothing left to give the world tonight. I know I will feel better tomorrow, so in a way it is a good kind of tired, not the dark kind.

I was thinking back about old times today, before I had anything planned out. How free I must have felt, once upon a time. I don't remember it now.

I love my life. I love my husband, my sweet baby, and the little life we've built for ourselves here. I love that we're expanding and growing and meeting new people and doing new things. I firmly believe that the grass is greener here, but sometimes remembering how it used to be stirs up old feelings of restlessness and a little bit of empty mourning for the way things might have been. What if I had gone to Europe that semester? What if I had moved to Portland when I wanted to and had nothing to stop me? What if I had ignored my fears and actually done something, experienced more things?

I'm so glad I have my two sweet men to experience this beautiful life with. I just wish I had fought past my inherent timidity to do things on my own, just so that I'd know I was capable of it. Places I go now and many things I'll experience will be riding on the coattails of someone else's force of personality. I wouldn't change where we are now for anything, but I do wish I knew if I could have done more.

I want to go exploring.

Ruts

I'm reading a book called the curious incident of the dog in the night-time. It's brilliant.

It's reminding me of what it's like to think hard and not fall into life's rut of complacency. I've fallen into several ruts in the recent 'seasons' of my life (PS, I HATE when people call times 'seasons', because it sounds like christianeze and I hate that. It makes me very uncomfortable and feel disconnected from the world and it feels like the person saying it is trying to sound better than you, so I'm sorry for using it).

The first rut began when I started working at AMN and was surrounded by people who didn't try to improve their lives- just glided along the surface of life and didn't care to find anything more. Part of my problem is that I need to be around stimulating people who inspire me, or else I grow insipid and stop caring to connect. This could be the Christian idea of community, or it could be my narcissistic tendency to need to impress people to make them like me. Everyone at AMN was impressed by my basic desire to do my job well. I don't think this is impressive- it's just how life should work. You work hard to improve yourself and your surroundings, because without that, why are do you even bother working? I know plenty of people who get by without trying. They aren't changing the world.

The first rut was the deepest (ha). The second rut was having a baby. I'm working hard still to raise him well, but again, it doesn't take much to impress a baby. Keep him clean & fed, give him lots of face time and be happy with his accomplishments, and he's happy.

My wonderful, poor, dear husband has enough to deal with trying to support us and take care of family business and make it day-to-day. I should depend on him more for stimulation, but he's so exhausted in the 2ish hours I see him each day that we're content to love each other deeply with what we have left.

Without community, I find that I stop trying as hard. Our growth group only meets once a week. As stimulating as my newfound pleasure in MOPS is, it only meets once every other week. I don't have anyone who spurs me on to daily try hard, be creative, and really think.

I have friends that inspire me, but we don't talk often enough. Lucy, Pieter, MandyB, Jonathan Hines, and others delight and elicit my brain to wake from it's plodding-along-to-get-by to really creating original, interesting, & different thoughts that make life beautiful.

Being Jake's wife is one of the primary highlights of my life. He makes me want to be a better person on a daily basis, and is always encouraging. He thinks I'm funny and witty and sweet, and that means the world to me. I want to remember how to appreciate him for his brilliance and vibrancy and keen understanding of the world around us, but we're always so bogged down by life's worries that our good bits get lost, sometimes.

So, basically, I want three things. One: to depend on Christ for my inspiration and motivation to become better every day. Two: to be near to friends who inspire me to read new things and write creatively and sing and paint and explore and live, and teach Daniel to do the same. Three: to move north- to somewhere that the sun isn't so obtrusive & painful, where the world is green and the sky is grey and Dan and I can go outside without fear.

It could happen, right?

4 months

Sometimes I put off blogging because I feel guilty that I haven't done it in so long. Today, after a long battle for nap time with Daniel, I want to get something, anything out. I know he'll wake up in a few minutes (we had the quite the battle to start nap time), but I think it's important to document this crazy, beautiful, sleep-deprived time. I already can't remember things from the 2 weeks after Dan was born-- although I think the c-section recovery, vicodin and 4 hours of sleep per night may have played a part in that.

We're getting to the point of sleep training with Daniel. Jake wanted to start it earlier, but I was being sentimental about how little he was and how dark and scary the world is (lol). I know (knew) that I was being silly, especially since I was frustrated night after night with how we needed to pat his little butt for an hour, and then again when he woke up during the night. I figure of all the things to be silly about, though, loving him too much isn't going to hurt him. He's just now exhibiting signs of knowing that he can manipulate us with crying, fake coughing, etc. As sad as I am to get to this point, it's amazing to see how clearly the light bulb turns on for him when he figures out something new.

I think that's one of my favorite parts of mommyhood- seeing him discover the world, and in the process rediscovering it for myself. Did you know that little crocodiles on a blanket have 10-minutes of stare-worthiness in them? Who knew? And the grass (okay, weeds) growing in the front yard, dancing in the cold wind are delightful to watch for as long as chilly fingers & cheeks can stand it.

I love how bright his eyes light up when he discovers something new, or when he sees me watching him push up. I clap and cheer for how strong he is, and he smiles a giant, gummy grin, occasionally breaking out into a little crow of delight and bigger push up.

There's nothing in the world like the light reflected as he stares at us with owl-eyed examination. I read in a book once a baby's eyes described as "orbs of light", and that sounds exactly right to me. Deep, intent, dark blue orbs reflecting the pure light within. I'm finally understanding again the innocence of children.

I'm also seeing human nature in fine form. His temper tantrums are rare so far (of course, he's not even 5 months yet), but they are definitely there. The fit of temper when we lay him down in his crib is funny so far- he kicks and screams with baby rage... and then eventually quiets down when he gets his paci. Jake saw a pacifier once that said "mute button". At the time we thought it was inappropriate... until we had a baby who wouldn't stop crying until we gave him a paci. Silly non-parents and their crazy ideals! I had so many theories on child-rearing before I had a baby. I still do, but now I can see how things change.

I have so much love for my sleep-hating, active & engaging child. I think he's like me, so far. We both need lots of attention/socialization (hey, I'm admitting it!), a routine, and time outside avoiding the sun. He's like Jake, too. He seems to be mechanically minded already, solemn, and a little bit angry. It's delightful!

I'm so happy on this journey. I'm even happier because I got a mini-date with Jake last night. The love of my life had a very rough week, but I enjoyed the time we had to tease each other, eat ice cream, and talk about the wonderful & terrifying turn our life has taken. So he's not on the way to becoming the CFO of a Fortune 500 company, and my ambitions have shifted to being a good mother instead of a good therapist. I'm happy. I'll be happier when I can work in writing & friends & music, but for now, I'm focused. I hope he'll be able to find a fulfilling job soon, especially since struggling to afford to live in a city we don't even like is stupid.

We are blessed- God is good. I'm so happy with my sweet little family.

Tradition

(I'm never good at intros, so I'm just gonna do 'how I do' in normal conversation: that is, plunge right in)

Something in me longs for ceremony and tradition. Human nature, personality, something in me- I really don't know what. Whatever it is kinda makes me wish I was Anglican. Or Jewish. Ha, or as my 5 year old cousin calls it, "Messy Jew". She means Messianic, and she cracks me up.

It's something that I've been thinking about for quite some time, but was re.... activated(?) after reading this article a few weeks ago. I sent the link to Dr. Mooney (our pastor, and a past professor of mine) to ask him what he thought of it.
In a quick conversation at school one day, he gave me a quick overview of his thoughts. He wasn't so much a fan of the mystic, emergent-y elements, mainly because repentance isn't a nice, or uplifting feeling. It's tough. It's a nitty-gritty, no fun, prostration before the Living God please-don't-kill-me-i-suck-so-much kinda thing. I completely agree. Besides, the idea that we only somberly think of our mortality and badness for a month and a half out of the whole year is pretty lame.

There's also the problem with traditions and ceremonial rites that it gets us complacent and tuned-out to the whole thing. That is certainly a concern for all (western, mostly, i think) peoples, because we love our comfort, and we'll settle right in to just about anything if you give us a few minutes.

So I see the shortcomings of ceremonial things, but I still long for them. Am I wrong?

I really don't know. I think that ceremony is a way for humans to connect with something bigger than themselves, be it God or community or whatever else. For me, at least, it's an emotional connection fer sherrr. My intellect doesn't really give a crap for cathedral acoustics, stained glass, speaking beloved texts in unison with my brothers and sisters, etc., but my emotional side really does.

So the important thing for me to figure out, I think, is what place does this really have in my relationship to the Most High? Is it important to help me connect with the awe of His Power and Majesty that sometimes seems hard to find? Or is it just another stupid idea for me to get tangled up in? (I tend to get pretty tangled, sometimes)

I long to feel His glory and power and majesty and beauty and just be in total awe and wonder at it. (It'd be pretty cool if I didn't crap myself at that point, too.)

So I dunno. Thoughts? Suggestions? Anyone wanna read the Book of Common Prayer with me? (I don't have a copy, but my birthday's coming up! [hint hint])