Thursday, December 30, 2004


In the world of Chinese adoptions, there are several silly terms, one of which is "DTC." It is used as a noun, a verb, an adjective (whatever fits) and it stands for "date to China" - as in, when your dossier was sent.

When you hear that we are DTC, feel free to congratulate, express happiness, share excitement.

The next term you will need to be looking out for is "LID," which stands for "Log-in date." (Why words like "to" and "in" get their own initials is beyond me, but I didn't make this stuff up.) LID is the official date that the Chinese Center for Adoption Affairs (CCAA) starts processing the dossier. It has been about 6 months from LID that most people have waited for their referrals.

Anyone who does not recognize the sifnificance of LID will be banned from ever reading my blog again... EVER! And don't tell me that that is not enforceable, because then I will ban you from reading ANYBODY'S blog.

And, just to keep you updated, we were DTC on 12/28.


Wednesday, December 29, 2004

"There is much to hope for, much to lose;
Much to believe God for, much to lose by doubt and fear and disobedience;
Much to expect because all of God’s promises are yea and yea (II Cor. 1:20), and
are as certain as the rising of tomorrow morning’s sun (Hos. 6:3.)..."

"...The only ultimatum I give a fig for is God’s, and it is found in Rom 12:1. If I truly make a quality dedication of myself to His service in line with this verse, and follow through with an active life of ministry in His Name, I am free from the strictures of religious or political systems, free from bondage, free, free, free. Let all the world scream, “Emergency! Red Alert!” No matter. Jesus and I have a secret inner island of peace, and when the world cries calamity and defeat I proclaim victory. Every attack of the enemy is one more opportunity to prove God by trusting and obeying Him and seeing Him vindicate me..."

"...The only crisis that matters is the crisis of the soul… Life, the Christian life, can be thought of as a series of confrontations between the believer and his God. And so often, as we pass a particular test, we are filled with a sense of His glory-presence. The real deeper life centers itself on Christ and His glory, not on theology, not on experiences, not on moral correctness..."

I really like that last sentence.

These are the words of my uncle George. Well, not really *my* uncle, but my dad’s. He wrote this is his Christmas letter. I have been getting them for three or four years now.

I don’t know that I have ever met Uncle George. If I did, I was not old enough to remember. My only real contact with him has been through these letters over the last few years. When I received the first one, I was rather taken aback. I had never heard anyone in my family speak quite this way about the things of the Lord. Now that I have had some experience with these letters, I read them eagerly, and I find myself wishing that I could sit down with him and listen to him talk about Jesus for a while.

I can’t quite place what I feel after reading his letters. Inspired? Encouraged? Challenged? Maybe all of these. I know for certain that I feel proud to have such a heritage. But, it is mixed with a little sadness at having missed out on his wisdom for so long.

I see a letter to Uncle George in my future….

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Friday, December 24, 2004

This and that

Well, it is Christmas Eve.

I called the adoption agency last week and they said they were hoping to get our dossier to China this week. They were waiting for the final paperwork from one other family... I assume they are still waiting, because we have not received word that our stuff has been sent. That bums me out. No one is working today and even the mail won't go tomorrow, so anything that they haven't received yet couldn't possibly be in to the agency until Tuesday. This pretty much rules out any hope of having Bao home by August. So, Paul will likely have to take leave from work without pay to go to China. Or, not go. Both options stink.

It is frustrating to have to wait for someone else to be done with their stuff, especially since ours has been done for three weeks. So much for setting goals for our completion date, b/c it really doesn't seem to have mattered.

But, so as not to get into a completely selfish funk about it, I have to think of how frustrating it must be for that other family to be waiting through holiday delays as well. Will remember to pray for them too.


Upon further reflection, I am recalling a few more details about good old Heather. But the memories are still foggy. Anyway, I think she GAVE me the cassette to "A Chorus Line" for my birthday, or something. And, I think the word we made up was "brevet." We used it as a verb to mean removing a wedgie. I do not know if either of these recollections are correct. Hopefully, Heather can advise.


Just a few minutes ago, I saw two woodpeckers and a cardinal in the tree in our neighbor's back yard. I have never seen a woodpecker, LIVE, so I got very excited and called Paul in to ask him what those birds were. He generally thinks I am silly to get so excited (as I always do) when I see cool animals just "doing their thing." But, he was very kind and shared my excitement with me by suggesting I open the window and listen to the "pecking." He even stood next to me while I tried to take a picture of the three birds (which will be completely unrecognizable after developing, I am sure.) I took the picture through the open window, and he said nothing about how cold it was or how much heat we were wasting. I think he is just getting used to the fact that his wife is a kook.


I consider myself a fairly intelligent person, but lately, Ms. Boo has been asking some questions that I am completely unable to answer, including: What day will it be next week? And How do you spell R-N-E-L-O-C-F-D?


For those of you not living in the area, (or for those who are, but have been in a coma for the last 2 days) It has snowed a lot. About a foot at our house. It started snowing early Wednesday morning. We all went out and played a while. Mr. Bug was ready for his nap, so it was a short, fairly miserable experience for him. But the rest of us made a considerable "mess" of the pretty snow in the front yard.

It snowed nonstop all day and continued snowing at least until I went to bed at 2:30 on Thursday morning. By that time, the front yard gave absolutely no indication that anyone had played in it at all.

Of course the snow has kept us pretty well house-bound. Paul went to the grocery yesterday to get eggs and some stuff for our elderly neighbors. The roads were bad, but he made it. We also drove around the corner to see Bill and Cindy, and let the kids get out of the house for a while. Otherwise we spent the day inside making chocolate covered pretzels (a snack AND a craft, all at the same time. Boo was in heaven!) playing blocks, playing hide-and-go-seek, playing play-doh, reading (yes, I read,) and getting out a new game: Chutes and Ladders! A good time was had by all.

Very relaxing. Very fun.


Of course the kids played outside a while too. Paul decided to go shovel while the rest of us were still in our PJs. Boo, of course, wanted to go out with him. So, while Paul was shoveling, I got Boo all ready, (even had to brush her teeth) and sent her out. Next was Mr. Bug. After considerable difficulty getting his mittens to stay on, I sent him out. Then me. Tights, jeans, socks, undershirt, turtleneck, sweater, boots, scarf, hat, coat, oh... get the video camera qeued up... one glove... AND...

in come the kids. Boo - getting too cold, and Bug - getting too crabby. Seriously... I was one glove away from going out with them.

New rule in our house: Paul and I get the kids ready together, and we all go out at the same time.



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Thursday, December 23, 2004

One night, around the time that Ms. Boo was 2, I awoke to the sound of her fearful cries. I rushed to her room and quickly realized that she was having a bad dream. Though she was still asleep, she kept calling out for me, "Mommy! Mommy!"

It was the first time Boo had done this, so I stopped to think about how I should approach her. I didn’t know what to say, but I kept thinking "whatever you do, don't startle her." I wanted her to hear my voice and know, immediately, that her mom was there to comfort her. While I was still thinking of what to say, I found that I had already spoken. Something came out of me as if by second nature. One simple word… her name.

Not long after that, Helen and I were discussing the account of Hagar’s “bad dream” in Genesis 16. The passage doesn't give a lot of details, so we were trying to imagine how Hagar must have felt. "Used" came to mind. She had provided the son Abram needed, but would she be provided for as Abram's wife? Surely, she felt rejected. Her mistress, Sarai, who was also Abram's wife, had developed the plan for Hagar to bear Abram's son. But Sarai grew resentful once Hagar became pregnant. In her resentment, Sarai mistreated Hagar, and Hagar fled.

So, Hagar found herself pregnant and alone in the desert, with no one to care for her. Had it been me, I would have been thinking, “Why is this happening? Where will I go? How will I care for my baby?” Had it been me, I would have been sobbing.

And then the angel of the Lord shows up. But had it not been for my experience that night with Boo, I never would have seen the rest of the passage in this light:

The passage says that the Lord heard of Hagar’s misery. He heard her cries! It says that the angel of the Lord “found Hagar.” He came to her! And do you know what the first thing out of his mouth was?… “Hagar…”

I can almost hear His gentle tone.

Oh, the kindness of God. He hears us when we cry out. He comes to us. And then, He gently calls our name, so we will know that our Father is there to comfort us.

Hagar left that scene having experienced God. "I have now seen the One who sees me," she said. It is the first time in scripture that God is referred to as El Roi, the God Who Sees. This same God sent Hagar back to Sarai. And Hagar went. I have often wondered why. But I have a guess: She was confident that the kindness of the God who saw her would sustain her as she lived through her bad dream.

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Tuesday, December 21, 2004


Heather was my best friend in junior high and high school. We went to Catholic school together. By the 8th grade, we were pretty tight. When we left St. Joe's, Heather went to the Catholic high school, and I went public, so to speak. Despite going to different schools, we were best friends all through high school.

Heather rocked like cooling lava. She was hippie, I was preppie. She introduced me to Woody and Arlo, I introduced her to uh... I don't know if I introduced her to anything... my crazy obsession with all things "West Point" perhaps.

Among my favorite memories of times with Heather were the long walks we took around her neighborhood. We would just walk and talk (about anything and everything.) It was a tradition we started back in the 7th grade when we would walk around the playground at recess, talking. There are two specific memories I have of those playground talks - one was discussing the bombing of Libya, the other was trying to get up enough nerve to say hello to Brian, whom we would pass by six or seven times while he played outfield in the 8th grade baseball games.

Then there was Carmen Sandiego. Heather and I could play "Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego" until the wee hours of the morning. My geography is still terrible, but at least we had fun.

And I cannot forget Dave Barry. Heather got a book of his and we spent an entire weekend reading chapters to each other, laughing our heads off. I even remember reading one chapter to her parents too, as we travelled to one of those Yale football games that they would invite me to. I always got to go with them when Yale played Army. On brave old Army team....

Another trip of note that I took with her family was to Vermont. It was on that trip that Heather introduced me to Skip-bo... the greatest card game on the planet. And, on one of our "talk walks" I saw a meteor for the very first time. We were completely psyched.

Heather and I frequently reverted to junior high behavior. Even in our college years, we fondly recalled the time that we fingerpainted with ice cream all over the island in her kitchen. We called each other things like "girlie, girl," and made up noises to identify the degree of cuteness of males who walked by. I swear we made up a word that was supposed to mean something specific, but I can't remember what it was. We later found out that it really was a word, and the real definition was not nearly as good as ours was.

But, perhaps the most "junior high" of all our endeavors was the PFHEA. The PFHEA was Heather's brain-child. PFHEA stood for "The People for Human Excretions Association." I think it came about after a long brainstorming session in which we tried to think of all the words for "puke" that we could. Her dad even contributed (with a word, not by actually puking.) It grew from there. We made no distinction between excretions and secretions. Probably because we just wanted a reason to talk about as much gross stuff as we could. But puke was, by far, our favorite. And Heather was great with words.

Heather was an actress too. She knew all about Broadway and such, and had regular parts in productions put on by a local Parks and Rec. Department. I'd go see her whenever I could, and got to know most of her fellow actors pretty well. We both took our turns swooning over Jim, whom I though looked just like the guy who played Gilbert in the Anne of Green Gables series.

Heather's love of Broadway even won me some clout in the ninth grade. At the time, she was into "A Chorus Line" and she was always listening to the original cast recording. So, I had to get my cassette too. And, of course, I memorized every word. I never thought that my knowledge of the musical would serve any purpose. But, my teacher in Early World Civ. that year (Mr. Goodrich) decided one day that we would play some sort of trivia game. The question I got was "what actress sang Nothing in the original cast of A Chorus Line?" Of course no one thought I could possibly know this. But I did, and they were all quite impressed. (BTW, the answer is Priscilla Lopez... and that was only my favorite song on the entire cassette.)

We decided that our graduation present to each other would be a ticket to see A Chorus Line and spending the day in the city. Alas, the longest running musical had to close some time, and it did before we graduated.

More than Heather rocked, Heather was smart. Way smarter than me. She got into Cornell. She didn't go, but she got in... something I never could have done. I remember the evening that we went out to see "Worth Winning." We had both taken the SAT that morning (at our respective schools) and we were comparing notes. I was telling her all the words I got stuck on... meaning I'd never heard them before.... One of them was "vapid." I told her what I answered. She said she answered something different. I figured she was right, but she acted like she wasn't sure. Then one of the characters in the movie actaully used the word VAPID. From the context, we figured that she had, indeed, gotten it right. To this day, I wonder if she knew all along what that word meant and was just trying to be nice to me.

Of course no other movie experience with Heather was more memorable than "When Harry Met Sally." I remember Heather commenting about something that Meg Ryan was wearing. It was a white turtleneck, a pair of jeans, and penny loafers. Heather's comment was that her outfit was "so classy." (Perhaps Heather was a closet preppie.) But it stuck with me... I don't know why. Anyone who knows me today knows that I FREQUENTLY wear a white turtleneck and, up until getting pregnant with Lainee, I wore penny loafers all the time. Every time I wear them, I think of Meg Ryan, "When Harry Met Sally," and Heather.

I remember the night before Heather left for college. I went to visit her. It seemed strange. Of course, once we left for college we were never as close as we were during high school. I left her house feeling like it was the beginning of the end. Needless to say, that stunk.

Heather and I would chat once in a while during the college years. But, as is often the case, we were too far away and our experiences were too different to really maintain the level of friendship we had. All I know of Heather after college is that she worked in an art museum in England, in NYC as an administrative assistant, as a college admissions counselor in PA, and is now a high school guidance counselor.

I got her Christmas card yesterday and have been reminiscing ever since. In their lifetime, everyone should have a friend like Heather was to me.

Tonight, I think I will have to dig out that old "A Chorus Line" cassette and listen to it again. The words "One singular sensation" will have new meaning.


Monday, December 20, 2004


was the day of sickness at our house. Mr. Bug has been sick since last Tuesday with a fever. His temp was below normal tonight, so perhaps he is finished. But Ms. Boo came down with the fever on Saturday, followed by me yesterday. Paul stayed home from work today to help me out and I think he had a fever too. Of course he said he didn't, but he figures you only have a fever if the thermometer says so. So, he just doesn't take his temperature, and then he can say he doesn't have a fever.

Anyway, we were about the sorriest looking lot of folks today. Pillows and blankets everywhere to accomodate our frequent naps. No cleaning up whatsoever. All of us in our jammies all day long.

So, you can imagine our reluctance to open the door when 3 of the folks from our Sunday school class came over carolling in front of our house. We were supposed to be carolling with them, but obviously we bowed out. They came in and visited for a while. It was nice to see some new faces. Bug, who has got to have major cabin fever, was ecstatic. And, since the group was comprised of at least two of Boo's most favorite people in the world, she was off the wall.

I got a Christmas card from my best friend in high school. It was so great to hear from her... we haven't talked since before I got married. More on Heather in another post.

A conversation that I had with Boo today went like this:

Boo: Mom, I have a yellow pony tail [holder] with flowers on it that can be an earring.
Me: (spotting said holder around her wrist, I point to it) You mean this one?
Boo: Yeah!
Me: it's an earring?
Boo: yeah, look. (puts the holder on her ear)
Me: Well, look at that!
Boo: I CAN'T, MOM! See, (turns her head toward the holder-laden ear) when I turn my head, it doesn't work!

A conversation that Paul had with Boo today went like this:

Paul at the computer, Boo on his lap. Boo sees a guy in a banner ad:
Boo: (pointing to the ad) is that John Kerry?
P: No. Do you know who John Kerry is?
Boo: he is the guy with a lot of hair.

So, we were all sick today, but at least there were some smiles.

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Wednesday, December 15, 2004

Christmas Memories

Last night was Christmas tree night.

We took the kids to get a tree in the freezing cold. I never care much what the tree looks like, so as far as I was concerned, the trip could've lasted all of five minutes. But, we walked around a bit so Boo would feel like she was "shopping," and so she could have fun wandering through the trees. We don't have much room in the house for a tree, so I picked one that looked skinny... and was also close to the car. I asked Boo, "is this one good?" Of course, she nodded that it was. We could've brought home the Charlie Brown tree and she wouldn't have cared a bit.

So we tied it on the car and drove home. Once we moved a few pieces of furniture, Paul went out to get the tree. He brought the tree in to a chorus of "the tree is coming in the house! the tree is coming in the house!" shouted over and over by Boo.

With the tree in the stand, I started putting the lights on. Paul wryly asked, "Aren't you going to test them first." This was a humorous reference to a day, about two weeks ago, when I asked Paul the same question. He was going to put the icicle lights on the house. We bought said lights the first year we were married, because I like how they looked. However, when I saw how they looked on all the other one-story houses in our neighborhood, I decided that I preferred the look of a single strand better. For whatever reason, Paul decided this was the icicles' year, so when he got them out, I suggested that he check them before he put them up. He decided to forego the test, and hung the lights anyway, then went back over the whole setup to pull the slack out and reposition them.

Needless to say that when I plugged them in, 2 of the 5 strands didn't light. I handed him the extra fuses and bulbs. Atop his ladder, he tried to fix the lights, but after being outside for about 2 hours, he decided he'd had enough and took them all down. We still don't have any lights on the house. (Which is fine with me, but it was a great waste of time for him.)


Bug took more interest in the boxes that the ornaments came in than he did in the actual tree. He kept banging on one box, like a drum. And just in case we were unsure about what he was doing, he kept us informed by yelling "bang! bang! bang!" (This is the same child who, as I type this, is running around with a bag over his head, roaring like a lion.)

Everyone was quite delighted with our tree-trimming efforts. Boo enjoyed looking at the lighted tree with the living room lights off. Bug points to an ornament now and then, says "wow," then runs off to find one of those boxes. Paul and I were pleased that we got the whole thing done in a few short hours. Of course hanging out with the family was the best part. And, though we don't need a tree to do that, this opportunity made for easy entertainment.

I guess it was a success. Maybe we'll try it again next year.


Sunday, December 12, 2004


Last night I chatted with a girl from church named Kailee. Kailee was adopted from China when she was a baby, about 9 years ago. She is a sweet girl. She was just standing there and I found that I was staring at her. (Not the first time I have caught myself doing that...) I don't want to stare, but I don't think I realize I am doing it... until she looks back at me! I smiled at her and mentioned that I thought her outfit was cute. "I got it in Tennessee," was her reply.

I don't know why that struck me, but it did. This child was born half way around the world, yet she spoke of being in Tennessee like it was just the most natural thing. It is, I suppose. But I can't help think about where she started out in life, and where she is now. Two very different places, very far apart.

It made me think of her birth parents. They are still in China, presumably, and have no idea that Kailee loves horses and enjoys trips to Tennessee and is a sweet, beautiful girl.

I've mentioned it before, but I can't get over how hard it must be for the parents of these Chinese babies who are abandoned. Plenty of people will say that these parents (or the Chinese in general) are cold and uncaring because they "give up" so many babies. I just don't think people who say that really understand the political and social situation in China. I don't want to sugar-coat anything: there are folks in China who go as far as killing their daughters, I know that. But I cannot even imagine what it would be like to live in poverty, as many do in rural China, and never have a son in a society where a son is one's only hope of future stability. I can't imagine living in that poverty and having to make the choice between paying a life-breaking fine and keeping the child. It isn't an easy decision to make. And giving up a baby in the hopes that she won't also live in poverty must be difficult. No, not difficult. Heartbreaking.

So, in the back of my mind I wonder now where Ms. Bao's parents are. They probably abandoned her pretty recently, and I wonder how they are handling it. Of course, if Bao is in an orphanage right now, it is likely because her parents left her in a place where she could be found... because they wanted her to be cared for. I wonder if I will ever be able to look at her without my mind drifting back to the sacrifice that her parents made. I'll get the joy. Her birthparents will just be left to wonder.

I hear the comments now... "she will have a 'better' life here." "You are doing a great thing." Maybe. I *do* think that kids need parents. But we do not have a rescue mentality about this adoption. Is it such a great thing? It's selfishness. We just want another baby. (As a side note, I think all decisions to become a parent are selfish. Yet no one ever asks someone why they decided to get pregnant. People decide to get pregnant and people decide to adopt for the same reasons, because they want to have a child.)

Then there is *the question.* I never know how to take it. "Why China?" I know most people are just curious, so I assume that whenever they ask. But I get the feeling that some people have it in their mind where it's "right" to adopt from, and who it's "right" to adopt - and we, apparently, have not chosen the right thing. Of course, I think this is a load of crap. (There's just no better word than that.) I never know what people's criteria are for deciding this stuff, but I find it humorous that most of the people who have developed such criteria, haven't actually adopted anyone. They just like to live in their own hypothetical world where they can say "if *I* adopted, it would be..." and then be disgusted with us because we didn't choose the same thing.

So, I have to bite my tongue when I hear "why China?" We really believe that God just gave us a heart for that. So, what it comes down to is, WE WANT TO - that's why. We considered other options. We weighed a lot of factors. Even after our initial decision, I almost backed out of the China thing all together because I know it will be difficult for Bao to grow up in a white family. But we ended up with a peace about China and not the other options. We have "reasons," but, other than Bao, to whom do I owe an explanation? Why are people dissatisfied with the answer "because we want to?" Do people really think it would be better for us to adopt "their way" even if we weren't comfortable with it? (Now that would be a great legacy to leave our child... we didn't really want to adopt you, but so-and so thought we should, and so we did...)

I don't even feel angry about it. It's just stuff I think about. And stuff that I have to figure out how to respond to graciously - unlike this post. Learning... still learning.


Friday, December 10, 2004

Today while Mr. Bug was playing with some play-doh, he "asked" for his daddy. "He's not here," I told him. Bug looked at me and said, "at work."

It amazes me that he said about 4 new words just today! The funniest was when he wanted a snack. He walked up to me and tried so hard to make the "sn" sound. He mutilated the word. But after a few attempts, he just kept repeating the part he could say... the "k".... so now "snack" is simply "k, k, k!"

This evening he said "window," as he pointed to a window. Apparently he wanted to see a bird, because he kept saying that too.

I tried to get him to say "flamingo." All he could manage was "mingo."

He has also taken to saying a version of "here you go" when he hands something to someone. So, he will give Ms. Boo a toy and say "go, Boo!"

My son is the best.


Thursday, December 09, 2004

Today I feel thankful, and happy.

I am thankful that most of my Christmas shopping is done. I am thankful that I will get some time BY MYSELF to work on the rest of the shopping tonight… and that the time comes on a week night, when stores won’t be so crowded! I am thankful that, in the cabinets/refrigerator, I have about 6 really obvious options for dinners. (I am usually doing well to have one!) But, today is definite pea soup weather, so I think that is what I will make. And, I am thankful for “soup days:” cold outside, but warm inside.

I am also thankful for the handmade Christmas decorations that the kids seem to be making at every turn. For whatever reason, we haven't gotten much of it in years past. But already, Mr. Bug and Ms. Boo have made about 10 items. One is a wreath made of about 20 cut-outs of Bug's hands. Another is a foam wreath with a GOOD picture of Boo in the middle. I just love the stuff they make... glued sloppy and cut crooked. I am writing dates on the back of all of them so I can look at them when I am 80 and remember my babies! I have been waiting for this stuff! Now that I have them, I have proudly displayed them all over the house.

I wrapped the kids’ presents last night. It was fun just to think of them opening them. I can’t wait! I think that got me in the Christmas spirit, because now I am getting the urge to bake all sorts of cookies that I don’t even have a reason to bake. I really enjoy baking when I can do it uninterrupted. That means early-morning or late-night. Hmmm, which do you think I will choose?

I was really hoping to get a quilt done for a Christmas present. I don’t think that is going to happen, but even the thought of sitting at my machine gets me excited. I just don’t think I am happier than when I am making something.

I am also going completely looney trying to find Chinese ornaments and gifts for Ms. Bao. The tradition in our house is to celebrate our babies’ first Christmases. For Boo and Bug, that meant celebrating when I was still pregnant with them. For Bao it means remembering her with a few gifts and wishing she was already with us to open them herself. I don’t want to get her all Chinese stuff, and I think Boo will want to pick out a toy for her. But, I am finding it hard to decide what Chinese things I will get, because I like so much of it.

I am also strangely excited about the future. I get this way sometimes. I like developing new skills and thinking about how they might be used in the future. Sometimes I just think, “I could do anything!” Then I wonder about what it would be.

In light of this, I did something that my sister did a few months ago. I sent an email to people that know me well, asking them to tell me what they think I am or would be good at. Some of the responses are interesting. And, although I don’t necessarily WANT to do some of those things, it is an eye-opener. It makes me think of my wedding dress…

I didn’t like my wedding dress. I bought it in a rush (long story, there) and it was fine, but it wasn’t “me.” For a long time after my wedding, I would hate going to weddings simply because I didn’t want to see a dress that I liked better than my own. (Extremely lame, I know.) But it occurred to me somewhere along the way that I probably never would have even tried on a lot of the dresses that I liked. (It seems odd, I know, but it is true.) I had it in my mind what I wanted, and I guess I ended up with tunnel vision, so to speak. Perhaps if I had asked someone to pick out a dress or two for me to try on, maybe I would have been pleasantly surprised with how I looked in what they picked.

Anyway, the wedding dress was a lesson that I am trying to apply in some other ways. Hence, the e-mail. I may not end up liking the ideas that people suggest. But, it sure is fun trying them on and looking at myself in a different light for a little while. And, who knows, I might end up liking one of their suggestions. Maybe this time I’ll end up buying the perfect dress!

Are you getting tired of my rambling?

Me too.

Wednesday, December 08, 2004

Perhaps I am an ice cream bigot, but I just don't think anything made with soft-serve can truly be called a sundae. And a sundae has to have whipped cream too.

"Jesus is the Christest." - Ms. Boo

wondering: (in light of recent posts/comments) why the shepherds are rarely shown in the manger scene.

It's official. We voted 300 to 1 in favor of calling Larry as our pastor. He accepted. I am very glad, to say the least.

I love the song "I Hope You Dance" by Lee Ann Womack. I heard it today. It was popular when I was pregnant w/ Ms. Boo. I think I want that song to be for her because I have let fear steal too many dances from me.

Wednesday, December 01, 2004

Expectations , a silly kid, a turkey, and family

In certain situations, where the outcome or my preferences don't really matter too much, I have trained myself not to have expectations. It has been helpful to me in many situations because it frees me up to enjoy stuff. Not to mention the fact that I am disappointed a whole lot less when I go in with no expectations.

Recently, I found myself surprised at how disappointed I was with a certain situation. When I thought about it, I realized I had formed a lot of expectations (that were really meaningless) without even realizing it. I caught myself off guard. It takes a lot longer to adjust to things when I let that happen!

Does anyone else do that... consciously eliminating expectations in situations where they are unnecessary? Just curious.

Ms. Boo was putting together a nativity scene today that was made out of stickers. The little stable was just big enough to fit Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. But when she got to the animals, she wanted them in the stable too. I asked her why, and she said, "So they will be warm and cozy."

Of course when we got to the wise men, she repeated to me that they really didn't belong in the manger scene (and I thought she wasn't listening....) But, rather than leave them out, she put them on the roof... along with a spare donkey that just wouldn't fit anywhere else. She was also distressed that one of the camels seemed to be lacking a tail. So, she made a new tail out of the white scraps left behind after peeling off all the stickers.

If we had enough memory on the computer to support the program, I would post a picture of her creation. But, alas, my description will just have to suffice.

I made a turkey today for the holiday banquet at church. When Paul came home, I had already carved the turkey and started to make stock from the stuff left over. He was home about a half hour when the "turkiness" in the air actually gave him a cough and a runny nose (an allergic reaction.) His cough was so bad that he had to go to the neighbor's house until it was time to go to church! How crazy is that?

Tonight, the whole family piled into our bed and had a little silly time. We pretended to sleep... Mr. Bug does a great "snore." When he finished "sleeping," he started diving from one end of the bed to the other. He clocked his head on the headboard once. But this did not deter him. He kept diving and, had it not been for a smooth save by Paul, he would've hit his head again.

Boo kept getting up saying "I'm the mommy." Then she would walk out of the room and close the door, adding, "I have to get some work done." Then she would come back in and pass out "snugglers" and stuffed animals to everyone.

The end.