read my rants

Mashup

2010-07-19T20:42:00.000-04:00

I'm just going to keep this here, for a rainy day.

Kleptones - Come Again (Beatles vs Rare Earth vs Beaties vs Daft Punk vs Cypress Hill vs Boston) Video by Crumbs Chief from The Videotones on Vimeo.

For Kara

2010-06-15T15:37:00.002-04:00

Weird boys + sweatpants + Marching Band (see 00:56) + Teletubbies + hoodies + Flashmob + trendy music --> These are a few of my favorite things!

February Eve

2010-01-31T15:18:00.003-05:00

You should know by now that I hate February.
Last February I lost my job. I got it back, sorta, but things sucked for me.
The February before that, my husband lost his job. He didn't get it back and things sucked for us.
I could go on, but you've read most of it before.

So here we are.
February Eve.
I'm crabby today. Crabbier than I have been in a while. I hope it's not any indication of things to come in the next four weeks.
But the truth is, I don't have much reason to be crabby. The sun has been shining for two straight days. I'm just coming off of a full week of great bonding with my son. My husband is finally home after 7 days away.
And here I am.
Annoyed.

By Keith.
By cold.
By wet socks.
By Meijer.
By my hair.
My car.
My zip code.

And when I look at that list, I feel ridiculous in light of the hurt in this world.
Every single one of those things would be a huge blessing to anyone with their head screwed on straight.
So I'm going to do my best and suck it up.

Thanks for the rant.

Remix

2009-12-09T21:27:00.001-05:00

I've posted this song before because it makes me happy.
Today, it made me happier.
See for yourself.

He Loves Us

2009-11-05T11:00:00.002-05:00

David Crowder, would you be willing to tell me this every single day?

Buds

2009-10-13T15:54:00.000-04:00

I love this more than you already think I do.

Get Out!

2009-10-13T11:16:00.001-04:00

Perspective

2009-10-06T16:15:00.001-04:00

Every time I get that "I can do anything" feeling, I go and watch something like this and think not so much.

Snails Pace

2009-09-16T09:55:00.001-04:00

Next time the clock is slowly ticking away on a long hard day at work, I'm going to watch this video.
Life is just better with a cool soundtrack, no?

Scuttle Snails from Chase Rees on Vimeo.

Interesting

2009-09-03T21:47:00.001-04:00

I just googled myself and 3/10 of the top results were actually me.
That wasn't true a year ago.
I find that fascinating.

Macho Man

2009-09-01T21:20:00.008-04:00

So what does a climbing competition look like?
I'll tell you.
50' in 47 seconds.
That's my husband.

Worth Repeating

2009-08-26T13:34:00.003-04:00

I've been reading through a compilation book of NPR's "This I Believe" essays. I like it because I rarely agree with the authors and I've always been better at figuring things out about myself by first identifying what they aren't.
I have 2 dog ears in the entire book - identifying the essays I wish I had written. The rest are food for thought and not much more.

Last night, I read "Always Go to the Funeral." You can read the entire essay here.

But here's the part I wish I had written:

"Always go to the funeral" means that I have to do the right thing when I really, really don't feel like it. I have to remind myself of it when I could make some small gesture, but I don't really have to and I definitely don't want to. I'm talking about those things that represent only inconvenience to me, but the world to the other guy. You know, the painfully under-attended birthday party. The hospital visit during happy hour. The Shiva call for one of my ex's uncles. In my humdrum life, the daily battle hasn't been good versus evil. It's hardly so epic. Most days, my real battle is doing good versus doing nothing.

In going to funerals, I've come to believe that while I wait to make a grand heroic gesture, I should just stick to the small inconveniences that let me share in life's inevitable, occasional calamity.

Thoughts on conservation

2009-08-17T11:12:00.003-04:00

I consider myself pretty conscientious when it comes to conservation.
I turn lights off when I leave a room.
I don't let the water run while I brush my teeth.
I'm lazy when it comes to recycling, but I've thought a lot about how I need to step it up a bit in that department (does that even count?)
Water conservation is probably the biggest impression I have from my one year as a girl scout. I think about it a lot.We don't recyle our shower water or anything, but I really do attempt to scrimp when it comes to pouring perfectly good water down the drain.

Or so I thought.

Then I spent the weekend camping in a trailer.
It was our first time out in mom & dad's camper. I did not participate in filling it up with water. I had no idea how much water it really held. We did dishes, flushed, and gave Ben a bath. The whole weekend, I wondered "do we have enough water for this?" I even had separate water for drinking. And we used the public restroom most of the time. But still I worried.

Because I knew the water supply was finite.

So I used water differently.
I scrimped for real.

And I realized - I attempt to conserve water at home because it's what I'm supposed to do. Not because I recognize our water supply as finite. And it is.

It's true even when camping within site of seemingly never-ending Lake Michigan.
It's changed the way I conserve even at home.
I think everyone should spend a weekend with a limited water supply - it makes a difference.

And those are my thoughts on conservation.

Hi

2009-08-06T16:00:00.000-04:00

The name's Sara.
Without an H.
I've got a lot of grace in this.
Usually.
But 4 years, umpteen e-mails, and a whole lot of in your face no-h-ness later, I've had it.

Thanks.
I feel better now.

This made me happy

2009-07-28T10:49:00.002-04:00

The PEN Story from PENStory on Vimeo.

Seems like I just can't get enough of this stuff.
It'll get old, I'm sure.
But for now, I like it, and I like it a lot.
Kind of makes me want to quit my job and go on vacation forever and take lots of pictures. Care to join me?

This makes me want to get married again

2009-07-23T21:46:00.001-04:00

Smallville

2009-07-21T09:05:00.001-04:00

Anyone else think find the main subject in this headline amusing?
Nevermind the people who needed to be treated for smoke inhalation - we got to use the LADDER!

Hey! I have an idea!

2009-07-20T13:30:00.004-04:00

Hey, you! SAHM! Yeah, you!
I love the whole home-school "raise up smart shoppers" thing. Seriously. I do.
If I had all day with my middle schooler, I'd make her* my coupon you-know-what in a heartbeat. I might even go so far as to have charts for store comparison. Probably not - you got me there. But there'd be a price-per-unit discussion, for sure.

But seriously.

You can bet your britches that it would also be a lesson about courtesy.
And when we saw a young, beautiful 20-something professional woman buying pork chops for a last minute dinner party, we'd get out of her way so she can make the best of her lunch hour. Maybe even give her a chance to run home and tidy up the place a bit. And no, we would not get in her way at every possible turn.
No siree.

And while I'm at it, might I suggest that while you're... um... teaching - that you take your calls in the teacher's lounge?

Maybe next time, eh?
Much appreciative.

*I see this trend all the time in Holland. But only ever with girls. Naive to consider that coincidence? Yeah, I thought so.

Just when you think it's all been done before

2009-07-16T21:40:00.001-04:00

Diego Stocco - Music From A Tree from Diego Stocco on Vimeo.

boom box

2009-07-16T21:11:00.004-04:00

Tonight, Keith and I strolled the streets of Downtown Holland and enjoyed the watching the Street Performers. I get such a kick out it. You see everything from jugglers to break dancers to face painters to Young Life leaders with their guitars. Tonight my new favorite was the hula hooper. You heard me. She was amazing. Never. Stop. Hula-hooping. Usually two at once. Never mind that she had her butt hanging out of her shorts and everyone I heard comment about her said something to the effect of "wow, she's good - but why is she dressed like that?" She really was good. Silver shorts and fish net stockings and all. (The good news was she was also very pretty, so it wasn't as painful as you might be picturing.)

A block away, there's the old standby Belly Dancer. The best part of her routine is getting 3 year little girls in on the action. There were no toddlers when we approach. Just a... woman... doing her... thing. As we settled in to our spot, my husband who NEVER (seriously - never) has ANYTHING to say about another woman's appearance said "Look at her boom box!"

I scanned this poor woman from head to toe and back and could not figure out what in the world Keith would be referring to as a boom box. And then I noticed it - she had a huge portable stereo on the side walk. He really was talking about a boom box - and not in a "that's what she said" kind of way.

I seriously don't know another man on the face on the planet who would look at an adult woman, with a low cut blouse and bare midriff, shaking it all wildly and comment on her stereo. Do you? Sorry ladies, he's mine.

What's Your Routine?

2009-07-14T08:30:00.000-04:00

Definition of a good day

2009-07-08T08:28:00.003-04:00

As a parent, I find myself bending over backwards to make sure Ben has a "good day."
Is he eating stuff he likes or that is healthy enough to fight over it a little bit? How can we schedule the day so that he has the best possible nap? Is he dressed appropriately? Is he cozy? Is he entertained? Does he have enough of my attention? Did he try anything new today? Did he get enough fresh air? Did we read? Sing a song? Cuddle long enough?
It's important to me.

It struck me recently that I don't do the same for myself. My day is deemed either good or bad based on the circumstances around me, not what I can control. I rarely have such an active evaluation of what I'm doing to make myself happy, healthy, and comfortable. What if we all lived each day asking ourselves:
Did I eat well enough today? Did I get enough exercise? Did I smile enough? Did I affirm someone today? Did I spend enough time talking with God? Did I get to bed early enough? Did I worry too much? Spend too much money on stuff? Stew over something too long? Did I laugh? At least once? Hard? Did I show Keith how much I love him today?

I'm gonna try.

Almost Candid

2009-07-07T20:40:00.001-04:00

Reason #4,563,891 why I love my husband.

Roller Babies

2009-07-03T16:18:00.001-04:00

It's true

2009-06-24T12:59:00.003-04:00

In the midst of my Jon & Kate tirade yesterday, Kara said something that rang very true.
Hearing about divorce makes you look at your spouse differently.
Even if it's just for a moment, they're suddenly an individual again - with thoughts, wants, and needs separate from you.
Makes me shudder just to think about it.

At the same time, it makes me so thankful that such thoughts feel so foreign.
Of course Keith is his own person.
But I certainly don't think of him like that.
I don't even really think of him as "mine."
He's part of me.
Plain and simple.
And so very beautiful.

So yeah - I have those gloomy no-one-ever-plans-for-divorce-so-what-makes-me-different thoughts.
For a minute.
And that's all.
Thank God.

Soapbox

2009-06-23T16:27:00.004-04:00

In February, my position was "downsized."
In other words, I don't make as much money now as I did then.
That reality has forced my family to shuffle our priorities a bit.
First thing to go: TV.
And that doesn't mean we just get fewer channels, or have crappy reception.
We get zero channels.
Period.

I missed it for about a week.
And every once in a while, I long for a Sunday afternoon with Mike Rowe.
But by and large, I can't remember when we had time to watch.
That doesn't make me a better person than you.
Just like the fact that you jog doesn't make you a better person than me.
Just had to put that out there.

Can you guess where this is going?
I've got something to say about... you guessed it: Jon & Kate.

I don't have anything new to say about their situation.
You've read my opinions stated by reporters a thousand times already:
-Heartbroken for the kids
-Knew it was coming
-The show will need to change if it will survive
-Kate can be a real bitch sometimes
-I miss the coupon clipping, real-life family from Season 1
-Yadda yadda yadda

That said, I fell in love with this family long ago, but especially while I was home on maternity leave.
Kate and me were buds. And I could ID her kids better than ones I see in person sometimes. I felt more connected to them than I did with people I actually have relationships with. Part of that was a symptom of my much needed postpartum hibernation. But part of that is the direct result of me just getting way too wrapped up in TV.

There, I said it.
Again, if you "follow" a show, I'm not judging you here. Seriously.
I would kill for an episode of Intervention right now.
And I heard about the new "Obsessed" series on A&E. Oooh, I want me some of that.

But I digress.

What's really irking my tater today is everybody saying "Shame on TLC"
"Shame on Kate"
"Shame on Jon"
"TLC should cancel the show"

Why? Because your obsession with watching someone else's life fall apart makes them money? Are you kidding?

If you watch the show, you have no right to judge or cast blame (or shame) on anyone - you fed the fire. I did, too.

And if you don't watch the show, then shut up.

Guess I should take my own advice, eh?

I didn't realize I felt so passionately about all this until right now. (thanks a lot, Kara)
Just don't get me started on American Idol.

When it rains...

2009-06-22T20:26:00.004-04:00

...my basement floods.

For the third year in a row, Holland is seeing record amounts of rainfall.
This past weekend's storm may qualify as a State of Emergency.
My family weathered the storm in a dry tent.
We came home two days later to 3 inches of water in the basement.
The cats were flooded out from their litter box, so even our dry rooms needed some drastic cleaning measures.
Oh how I miss our 2nd floor rental apartment right now. With a landlord. Who you call when stuff smells real bad, leaks, or is broken.

But, after 24 hours, we're in a much better place.
We have amazing families who came to help.
We know better than to keep our good stuff vulnerable in the basement.
Our basement isn't finished, so the carpet that's down is fixable.
Did I mention our amazing families?
Not to mention my POWER HOUSE husband.
Seriously - is there anything sexier than a man with a mop?

There's still about 200% humidity in our house and hotter than you-know-where.
But I'm calling it quits.
After two hours at the laundromat, I feel like Charlie looks:

Just a cool thing

2009-06-19T15:03:00.002-04:00

Bathtub IV from Keith Loutit on Vimeo.

©2009 COPYRIGHT - All Rights reserved
Project info @ vimeo.com/channels/keithloutitssydney

This film is 100% 'real', but there are some new techniques for me here, such as using time lapse to create the illusion of forward movement for the helicopter ocean scenes. These flight sequences would not be possible without the skill and patience of Chief Pilot Peter Yates. Thanks also to Trevor Cracknell (for getting wet!) and Family.

Music:
“CLEMENTINE” (Megan Washington)
Performed by Washington
© 2008 J Albert & Son Pty Limited
Used with permission

Artist Info @ keithloutit.com
Project info @ vimeo.com/channels/keithloutitssydney

Security

2009-06-19T10:28:00.003-04:00

Thunder has always fascinated me.
There's no other sound I can think of that I experience on a regular basis that doesn't originate somewhere tangible.
Light, particles, electricity - that's cool, too. But really, when I think about light, I'm more dumbfounded by a lightbulb than by lightning. Guess I'm just used to bright stuff coming out of the sky.
But sound? Seriously. That's amazing.

One of the longest, most intense storms of my life blew through last night.
I didn't hear the storm at first, but Ben did.
I woke up to his fussing in the monitor, only to realize that it was thunder woke him.
I rocked him for a short bit, waiting for the storm to pass.
When it was clear it was going to be a long night, I brought him back to bed with me.

Laying there awake, watching the light display, I couldn't help but remember laying in between my parents on scary nights. The same clap of thunder that can feel like the end of the world in a room alone is nothing more than an annoyingly loud noise when you're nestled between the two most important people in your life. I remember praying that my dad would fall asleep before the storm ended so that I wouldn't have to go back to bed alone.

Last night for the first time, I got a glimpse of what it was like for them. With all our windows open (Oh, how I love June), the thunder was so loud and so sharp that with each clap, Ben would jolt up like a popcorn kernel exploding. He was so zonked that he never opened his eyes, but he would reach to touch my arm, or leg. As soon as he was sure of my presence, he settled back in.

When he was first born, I felt like a pregnant lady who gave birth. Not long after that, I became a mother - in the Hallmark sense of the word. You know, "You give so much and expect so little in return" kind of thing. I'm just now starting to feel like a mommy. By mommy I mean Ben's favorite person on earth. His security.

I'm here to tell you that's the best feeling in the world.

Confirmed

2009-06-19T09:15:00.003-04:00

I've always wondered what people are doing when they read my blog.
At least one of you is naked.
May the rest of you always wonder....

I Will Rise

2009-06-15T10:11:00.002-04:00

I woke up with a heavy heart this morning.
Grief is a peculiar thing.
Empathetic grief even more so.

My commute to work on Mondays is about 4 minutes.
I rarely hear an entire song, news story, or DJ conversation.
This morning, however, as I buckled my seat belt, Chris Tomlin's "I Will Rise" came on.
I've heard this song countless times. But today, I couldn't help but tune in.
My heart is glad I did.

There's a peace I've come to know
Though my heart and flesh may fail
There's an anchor for my soul
I can say "It is well"

Jesus has overcome
And the grave is overwhelmed
The victory is won
He is risen from the dead

And I will rise when He calls my name
No more sorrow, no more pain
I will rise on eagles' wings
Before my God fall on my knees
And rise
I will rise

There's a day that's drawing near
When this darkness breaks to light
And the shadows disappear
And my faith shall be my eyes

Jesus has overcome
And the grave is overwhelmed
The victory is won
He is risen from the dead

And I will rise when He calls my name
No more sorrow, no more pain
I will rise on eagles' wings
Before my God fall on my knees
And rise
I will rise

And I hear the voice of many angels sing,
"Worthy is the Lamb"
And I hear the cry of every longing heart,
"Worthy is the Lamb"

And I will rise when He calls my name
No more sorrow, no more pain
I will rise on eagles' wings
Before my God fall on my knees
And rise
I will rise

Joy & sorrow

2009-06-13T22:57:00.007-04:00

Life is just never what you expect it to be.
I spent all day preparing for, traveling to, attending, wasting time prior to reception, celebrating, and coming home from a wedding where someone I know quite well married someone I know not at all.
It's the happiest day of their life.
I thought about blogging about that a bit more.

But now it's late.
We're home and decompressing a bit.
We heard tragic news this morning.
One of the teens that Keith used to mentor was killed in a car accident last night.
It's still sinking in a bit.
Thank God that he was a man of real faith.
That blessed assurance does not help make sense of any of it, however.

In a darkened living room, with my party dress in the hamper and my bathrobe tied tight, I danced to Our Song with my husband and we cried.
For Nathan.
For dreams lost.
For fear that it should ever come any closer to home than it already has.
For guilt at the relief that it hasn't.
But mostly for the sorrow we feel for his family.

exposed

2009-06-11T22:15:00.003-04:00

I'm no athlete.
Even if I was, I think I'd still have issues with the locker room.
The closest I come to getting naked in public was camp - where I perfected the art of changing clothes without ever being naked.
But that's impossible in a swim suit.
Therefore, when swimming, I dress (and undress) at home.
And no - giving birth does not need to forever hinder one's modesty.

So there I was - the Aquatic Center. Ben's first night in a pool. Pretty exciting stuff.
We were just arriving, still in the parking lot, getting Ben out of the car seat and a woman noticed his cuteness and stopped to say a friendly hi.

When I entered the locker room, I saw her again, out of the corner of my eye. She was undressing. So I stopped myself from the impulse to turn and say hi again - she was really very friendly.
Instead, my inner dialogue went something like:
Oh boy - I hate locker rooms. Don't panic! Divert the eyes. Where is the bloody changing table?! Why is it in her area? Oh yes - I can have my back to her.

I got Ben settled in nicely on the changing table and got to work. It didn't take him long to figure out how cool his voice sounded in the echoey room. So he started jabbering (aka YELLING) up a storm.
I was talking to him and laughing.

From behind me I heard, "He's so cute - how old is he?"

I turned around thinking "If she's initiating conversation, she must be dressed."
You can guess how wrong I was.

So there I am, one hand on naked, squirming, yelling happily Ben - while my body is half turned towards an aging 100% naked woman -and my eyes are darting around like a pinball machine.

What's the polite thing to do here?
Turn your back to her?
Face her. All of her?

I settled on locking in on the most intense eye contact of my life.
She made some other comments about Ben. Or babies. Or the economy. I have no idea.
I smiled, nodded, and turned back around - never happier to wipe Ben's butt cheeks in my life.

Communion Prayer

2009-06-08T11:01:00.003-04:00

One of the greatest blessings about my membership at Madison is the opportunity, responsibility, and privilege to serve communion alongside my husband. Our church offers communion once a month and we have 6 stations where people can approach for the elements. Accepting communion practices in the Reformed tradition has been a challenge for my Lutheran Raised Self to deal with ever since Freshmen year of college at Hope.

I'm here to tell you, 11 years later, I love both traditions. And I truly think they both get some things right and some things a little less right.

But that's neither here nor there.

Yesterday was Communion Sunday.
Yesterday, I got to look into the eyes of about 100 brothers and sisters and tell them Christ's body was broken for them. For the forgiveness of their sins. Then I got to offer them a plate and see them accept it. Accept Him. Accept forgiveness.

Lots of people come with eyes sparkling with tears. Sometimes I join them. Other people get uncomfortable with the 1:1 eye contact. I don't (anymore).

When people approach so clearly broken and hurting, I pray that by participating in communion, some of their hurt is lessened. Often, the faces of those who are really hurting stay with me during the week and I continue to pray for their nameless hurts.

Today, I'm praying for a woman who's hungry.
And I'm not talking about being hungry in the spiritual sense.
This woman's stomach was empty. I can only guess her cupboards were, too.
I looked for her after the service, eager to invite her to join us for breakfast.
I didn't find her.
I know that the four cubes of bread she asked for at communion did not satisfy her physical needs.
Today, I just cannot shake her face from my mind.
Feed her, Lord.

A little close to home

2009-05-29T09:48:00.001-04:00

Ever wonder what life in the media biz is like?
Take a look at Vendor Client Relationships.

Thanks, Joshy

2009-05-14T10:06:00.001-04:00

Mother of the Year?
I thought so.

Happier Things

2009-05-07T22:30:00.005-04:00

Proof that actually penning my emotions is cathartic...

I seriously don't think there's anything better in the world than nuzzling my face in Ben's neck.
Especially first thing in the morning when he's extra snuggly and just a little bit salty.

I don't think I'm especially good at work-type things. I think I have good enough people skills that I can be successful, but I don't have a marketable skill like design or accounting, etc. Nothing in my life has ever come as naturally as motherhood. When it comes to Ben, I certainly don't have all the answers. But I've got a willingness to try and fail and try again that I never knew about myself. Now about that paycheck...

I like to break the rules with Ben. I know I'm not supposed to rock him to sleep. But I do. Deal with it, Day Care Lady. I have the opportunity to hold my baby for a total of about 3.5 hours a day. If I can make it 4 by nuzzling his sweet baby neck for 30:00 after he falls asleep, I'm gonna. I earned that right at 1:41pm September 25, 2008.

I secretly hope Ben never gets teeth. Is there anything happier than a toothless, full body smile? Didn't think so.

I have never loved my body. Or appreciated it. Or even liked talking about it. The fact that my... um... body makes food for my son is miraculous. Labor & delivery forever altered my self perception as well. I'm gonna leave it at that. (This is where I fall off the mommy-blogger wagon).

I'm still figuring out how to be a good wife and mommy. Keith's had to take a back seat to Ben. Sorry 'bout that, babe. I'm trying.

It takes a conscious decision every single day not to submit to the resentment I feel at having to go to work. And then, when I have a day off with Ben and it doesn't go well, it takes everything I've got to convince myself that he would have had a bad day at day care, too. Working moms cannot win. Period.

Strangely, I understand the cycle of abuse and poverty better now than ever. I realize how often I make a conscious decision based on what I've seen work (or not work) for other parents. I have no idea how often I do it subconsciously. I thank God every day that by and large the other parents in my life are worth modeling.

Tonight, I looked through all the images we have of Ben since the day he was born. Why are there never enough?
Then I had a good cry.
It was worth it.

Really?

2009-05-07T22:01:00.003-04:00

I think I've entered a quarter life crisis of sorts.
I just can't get over my life.
Is it for real?

There are days when I wish I could change some detail about every single aspect of my life.
I am rarely completely content. I'm restless.
I'm realizing that it has a pretty significant impact on my relationship with God.

I am so oblivious to change sometimes that when I actually take a moment or two to notice it, I'm shocked.
Is this really my life?
When did I marry such a studly, humble, servant-hearted human being?
I own a house?
In Holland???
I've worked at the same "summer gig" for 7 years?

SEVEN YEARS.

That means next you're going to tell me I stopped being a student 7 years ago.

Am I where I wanted to be then?
Am I on a road that leads anywhere?
Do I know which direction I'm headed?
Is that the right direction?
Am I paying enough attention to the daily stuff?
Am I paying too much attention to the daily stuff?

Does my life really involve meeting the daily needs for another human being?
My son.

My son.

My son.

Wow.
I am a mother.
It has redefined all of me.

I didn't think it would.
I really thought I would still be me, just with a kid.

But I am no longer
Sara
Daughter
Wife
Worker
Friend.

For me, it begins and ends with mom.

It's a life time commitment.

That completely and utterly overwhelms me.

It's part of why I haven't been writing here.
Or anywhere, really.
I don't want to be a mommy blogger.
I just want to share my thoughts.

So here they all are from the past 7 months:

Holy crap - I'm a mom.

Eye Candy

2009-04-20T15:10:00.003-04:00

I don't really like the idea of this blog becoming a catch-all for random links and videos. I have lots of thoughts about work, economy, parenthood, wifedom and life in general. If I could just get around to sorting them out well enough to share them with you all...

Disclaimer aside, look at what this guy can do with the alphabet.
I'm inspired.

Look at Ben!

2009-04-11T08:45:00.001-04:00

Proofs of six month pictures can be seen here.

admit it - you could, too

2009-04-06T15:25:00.002-04:00

I could seriously spend all day looking at this site..

Too bad my head gear shot is a candid...

The grapevine

2009-04-01T09:28:00.003-04:00

I have always wished I was creative. It wasn't until college that I realized it's much better for me to just be friends with creative people because my creative endeavors are never really successful. And you all thought I just like to play it safe. No, it's really my only option.

My grandma passed away a few weeks ago. In the process of preparing for her funeral and visitation, many MANY pictures were viewed. Pictures I didn't know existed. Take, for example, the pic of me in my head gear. You heard me. I seriously thought there was absolutely no proof that contraption ever existed. Now that Keith has seen it, I've never been more sure of the longevity of my marriage.

And then there was the picture of the Worst Idea Ever. In caps because it is. Straight up.
It was halloween. 3rd grade? My BFF Alissa had figured out how to braid wire into her strawberry blond, butt length hair. She found striped tights and was going to be the best Pippi Longstocking ever. I adored Pippi and was insanely jealous. So I said to myself, "Self, if you're going to be seen with Pippi, you better come up with something good!"

I had this sassy pair of red sunglasses branded "California Raisins." I might have gotten them out of a cereal box - not too sure on that one. Then it hit me. Standing in the center aisle at Meijer, looking at all the halloween head dresses. I could be... a raisin!!!! From California! HA!

I knew the dance move. Roll hands, point to left. Roll hands, point to right. Give a little hip sway. Repeat.

And I would be funny. That was important. No way I can compete with how cute Alissa would be. So go the funny route. This was gonna be great.

In my head, it was hilarious. And to be honest, it was funny in my head up until three weeks ago when I saw the picture:

I'm sure I don't have to tell you that this costume didn't go over that great.
Forgive the caps here, but seriously people -
WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME I WAS WEARING GRAPES ON MY HEAD. NOT RAISINS!!!
My mom would answer this question with some response about how head strong I was and how once I made up my mind about something... but SERIOUSLY! She let me out into the streets to beg for candy looking like this!
And no, your screen doesn't need to be calibrated - my face is blue. Not purple.
My sweatshirt is blue and inside out.
I think we can all agree that my mic was rad, but that's about it.

Picture me, sitting on Alissa's bed emptying my pillow case looking for razor blades while Alissa let down her hair.
"Why in the world would people think I was one of those underwear guys??? Weird!

(You might remember this story...)

How far would you go?

2009-03-05T10:07:00.000-05:00

Further proof that motherhood has affected my sense of humor.

Lost Generation

2009-02-11T14:09:00.001-05:00

Quincy asked for more posting.
Alon gave me an "out" by posting this video.
Watch this.
Hopefully I'll have something for you to actually read again some day soon.

I'd eat him if I could

2009-01-27T13:22:00.004-05:00

This kid made me weak in the knees.
We filmed him crossing the Red Sea in our studio last week.
Me: Hey, cool - you have the Hulk on your shoes!
kid: I love him. Wanna know what else?
Me: Sure I do!
kid: My cat scratched me.
Me: He did?! What's your cat's name?
kid: Fluffy. Wanna know what else?
me: What?
kid: I want to go to Grandma's now.
me: Ooh - sounds fun. Do you mind if we take some pictures of you first? Then you can go to grandma's?
kid: Sure.

Resolved

2009-01-02T14:08:00.002-05:00

Kara says I'll never follow through if I don't do this, so here goes --

Goals for 2009:

Personal -
Play piano again.
Call friends.
Write more.

Professional -
Look on the bright side.

Spiritual -
Bedtime prayers with Keith and Ben.

2008 in review

2008-12-31T16:51:00.002-05:00

January -
Rang in the new year with dear friends at a bar, listening to friend play in a band. My name was on the list at the door so we didn't get charge a cover. I remember thinking "I totally and completely feel my age and I love it." That rarely happens. Later that month, we learned I was pregnant.
February -
Let's not talk about February.
March -
We first heard Ben's heart beat in March and announced his existence to the world. At the time, it was the best feeling in the world. Sent Keith and most of the office to Egypt. Beat morning sickness to the curb.
April -
Welcome Keith back with open arms and vowed to never spend 24 days apart again. Went to California to celebrate Grandpa Hogan's 80th birthday. Felt like a Hogan.
May -
Vacation. Spent a weekend on the lake with our small group and realized (yet again) that they are family. Spent a week in Florida at the condo on our last vacation without kids, or worrying about the kids back home, ever in our life. Realized (yet again) that my favorite days are lazy days with Keith. Beach cabana = bonus.
June -
Started to really show and feel pregnant. Excitement grew.
July -
Celebrated my third wedding anniversary. Lots of little "get aways" and birthing class. July was big.
August -
Camping, showers, weddings, and really big ankles.
September -
Benjamin Rush Hogan was born September 25, 2008 at 1:41pm. Three weeks after I expected, but in perfect timing. Never prayed more in my life than September 2008.
October -
Adjustment.
November -
Back to work. Thank God for a job, but man it's hard.
December -
Can actually look at Ben without trying to get to know him. I see him and accept him as my family. Can't believe it took so long. And yet, can't believe it already happened.

I've stalled on writing this post because I'm not sure how to end it. I am so very blessed and thankful for the past 12 months. Can't wait for tomorrow and to dive into 2009. I can't wait to see Ben's personality explode, to experience even more as Keith's wife, and to grow more in love with my Creator. Cheers.

Quote of the Day

2008-12-11T14:52:00.003-05:00

Two different guys in the office doing the p90X workout.
Both in pain.
Looked at the website today with one of them. And I quote "I'd kill for that guy's before."

Ripping Katie off... again

2008-12-11T09:18:00.003-05:00

Watch this. You won't regret it. This means you, Quincy.
Katie's church in San Diego made it.
Keith chastised me last night for not blogging more. But now that I've seen this, I can't really think of anything better to say. Enjoy. And thank God that church media has come a long way.

Flood Christmas Concert & Christmas Shoppe Promo from FloodSanDiego on Vimeo.

Bible Marketing

2008-12-01T15:52:00.002-05:00

I found the comments as interesting as the article on this one.
Take a look.

changes

2008-11-26T11:00:00.002-05:00

Baby Center is an awesome site that e-mails you once a week to tell you what's going on with the development of your fetus/child. Today's e-mail had an article about the things that change when you have a baby. I'll second all of them - maybe even third #14. And I'll add my own #16.

1. You finally stop to smell the roses, because your baby is in your arms.
2. Where you once believed you were fearless, you now find yourself afraid.
3. The sacrifices you thought you made to have a child no longer seem like sacrifices.
4. You respect your body ... finally.
5. You respect your parents and love them in a new way.
6. You find that your baby's pain feels much worse than your own.
7. You believe once again in the things you believed in as a child.
8. You lose touch with the people in your life whom you should have banished years ago.
9. Your heart breaks much more easily.
10. You think of someone else 234,836,178,976 times a day.
11. Every day is a surprise.
12. Bodily functions are no longer repulsive. In fact, they please you. (Hooray for poop!)
13. You look at your baby in the mirror instead of yourself.
14. You become a morning person.
15. Your love becomes limitless, a superhuman power.
16. You realize showers are a luxury.

'tis the season

2008-11-20T12:40:00.001-05:00

Have you heard elf's lament by BNL yet?
What? You're not listening to Christmas music? Loser.

You knew this was coming...

2008-11-18T17:28:00.002-05:00

Ben has his own blog.

That way, I can stay selfish here. In my spare time...

So if you want to keep up with all the latest and see pictures, add him to your blog roll.

Hopefully there will be more to read here again soon, too. I've missed you, blog.

I get it

2008-10-05T21:08:00.003-04:00

There aren't really words to sum up the last week and a half of my life.

The best I can say is now I get it.

That sappy infatuated look that new moms give their husbands? I get it.

Feeling like sitting in a rocking chair for hours on end is the most important job in the world? I get it.

The fear of being alone?

The definition of unconditional love?

Feeling sheer rage at a completely polite nurse bathing your child while he screams?

Happy tears?

"Outings" (like buying milk) being somewhat intimidating?

Joy.

Calling.

Family.

Yeah, I get that too.

It worked before

2008-09-22T07:02:00.003-04:00

Dear Uterus,

Thank you. You've been truly great the last 40 weeks and 2 days. Really. You've made my life much easier than I expected it to be and I am forever grateful. Not all uteruses were created equal and you seem to be one of the best. You were made to carry babies. Good job. But it's my turn to hold him now. You've had your share. Give him up.

Now I know we've been a little unsure about when your tenure would be up. But everybody else has been ready to help him move on out for weeks now and you won't release your grip. I am convinced yesterday was the day. You missed a deadline. You know how I feel about that.

Maybe you're scared. Me too. But would you rather spend each day scared or just buck up and face the inevitable? Because seriously, there's only one way for this all to end. And maybe you don't know what to do. I'd buy that if you weren't so freaking awesome at your job the past 40 weeks. I think you know. You've even been practicing. It's time to take the plunge and contract. Repeatedly. Now.

Now I don't want to threaten you, but the reality is if you decide to be stubborn and hold your ground and refuse, the doctor will intervene. He'll force you to. It's called induction and it will happen before week's end. I know it's not fair. But it's not fair for you to hold my baby hostage anymore, either. Yes, I appreciate the physical comfort of not contracting, but you're throwing my hips and nerves all out of whack everywhere else - essentially holding my body hostage, too. Let me be clear - I hate the idea of induction. Hate it. Can't really explain all the reasons why, but I don't want it. You're just leaving me no choice.

But you still have options. Contract. Today. Break that bag of waters. Right now. Just do it. I know you can. You'll be great. In fact, the progress we've made the last three weeks tells me this will be quick and easy. There are people out there who labor for 12 hours to get to where we are. It's time. Let's go.

sweet dreams

2008-09-17T10:43:00.006-04:00

They say that the dreams you have while pregnant are some of the most entertaining you'll have your whole life. I'd have to agree.

It's especially helpful when you sleep as much as I have been the past few days - you remember them better.

Last night, I dreamt that the reason why I hadn't had my baby yet was because it was essential that I convinced Gorbachev to submit to the life-saving dialysis that he was refusing. I was forced to go visit him - at the Korean strip mall where Keith's best friend used to own a coffee shop in Washington D.C. And as soon as ol' Gorbachev would agree to go on dialysis, I was promised that I would go into labor. I was seeking advice from everyone I knew about how to convince him it was worth it because if he said no, would I be pregnant forever? Or just until he died? No one could tell me. And why in the world was this my responsibility over all the people in the world? It was extremely frustrating. In part because I woke up wondering - who is Gorbachev again?

Just a glimpse

2008-09-11T13:41:00.003-04:00

You can read a lot about parent/child bonding and still not understand it. I sort of understand it when it comes to my parents, but I cannot grasp the bond I'm creating with my child. Not even close. To be perfectly frank, I fear it won't come as easy for me as it does for some. I pray it does. And every once in a while, God gives me a little glimpse of just how beautifully he orchestrates this bond, even when you aren't paying attention.

The first time my heart twinged with the thought of being on the parent side of this relationship was in our breast feeding class. I was uncomfortable and frustrated and overwhelmed. And then, in an effort to prove to the men in the class (my husband being one of them) that men really do matter in the feeding process, the nurse spoke about going into rooms to examine babies, making them upset, and dad just walking over and speaking to the baby, calming them down. These are babies who are 4 hours old and they recognize the voice and the smell of their daddy enough to trust the safety he offers, even without the warmth of his embrace. That's incredible.

And last night, we kicked off care group season by passing around our newest member, a 3 week old 7 pounder. She's tiny. It's hard to comfort someone so tiny. She started squaking something fierce. Mom stood up, crossed the room, picked her up, and it was over. In an instant. She wasn't unsafe or uncomfortable or abandoned in someone else's arms. But they weren't her mommy's. And that's really all she wanted. It's miraculous. I can't believe I get to take part so soon!

I love fall

2008-09-09T15:07:00.002-04:00

Trapper keepers and new erasers.
Haircuts and new lunch boxes.
Gym shoes that squeak and school shoes that stain the tips of your socks brown because you forgot to waterproof them and it's still hot enough to sweat at recess.
Organized locker.
The new kid.
Slippers in the morning.
The down comforter at night.
Pumpkin. Spice. Lattes.
New jeans.
Long sleeves.
Hooded sweatshirts.
The breeze.
Dusk at dinner time.
The colors orange, red, and gold.
Crunchy leaves on the sidewalk.
Cider.
Routine.
Good hair days (aka less humidity)
Football games (aka marching bands)
Baking.
Stew.
Chilly husband.
Cozy husband.
Snuggles.
Red wine and green tea.

I really lucked out having a fall baby... fall weeks at home totally make up for spending a hot summer pregnant. I just can't wait.

What Mario isn't telling you

2008-09-04T09:58:00.003-04:00

Evidence of "the man" in my life can be found at Getty Images.
Any guesses where we might show up?

Bonus points if you can name the TV reference in this post's title.

Hey, you - office pooper:

2008-09-03T11:22:00.005-04:00

Our one-holer toilet closets don't offer much air circulation. Therefore, when you poop, turn off the light (and subsequently the fan) and then shut the door, you trap your poo smell in that tiny little room until someone finally breaks down and knocks on the shut door only to realize they've been pacing outside of an empty room for 20 minutes and then enter only to be knocked out by the fumes.
As far as I see it, you have two options:
1. Buck up, trooper. Everybody poops. And lots of people do it at work. So leave the door open at least a bit to let it air out. If you're feeling exceptionally self conscious (even after the courtesy flush), then leave the light/fan on. And give the room a little squirt of that fancy little air freshener that sits right there next to the toilet. Yes, if you squirt it, I might catch on to the fact that you dropped a deuce while you were in there for 20 minutes. But I'm here to tell you I'm onto you even without the courtesy of a little fresh air.
2. If you must close the door, leave the frickin' fan on!
3. And while we're on the subject, another note. If you stand up to pee, why wouldn't you do it in the urinal? It's right there. And when you pee in there, I can't hear it. And yep, I can hear you in there.

Money well spent

2008-08-30T17:28:00.005-04:00

Behold, the best $25 I've ever spent in my life. I hate people touching my feet. But Ellen at AT Nails did me right.

And yes, actually I do worry about whether I'll get stretch marks on my ankle.

And then a complete impulse buy...
While picking up the necessities at Babies R Us, we came across the cutest bassinet I've ever seen in my life. Converts to a moses basket or a chair. We had a loner, but I just couldn't leave this one on the shelf. Keith loved it because it came with only TWO screws. Does it get any better???

If you're shopping, too, you can product details here.

Problem solved

2008-08-29T10:09:00.004-04:00

Our cat Charlie is the most curious animal I have ever met.
Whatever I'm doing, he's right there, trying to figure it out.
Even if I'm cutting garlic - he'll take part of the skin and test it out to see if it's any good.
If I'm making the bed, he's on or in the sheets the entire time.
It's an endearing trait... most of the time. Partly because he's also such a talker - he really keeps me company!

He also has a bit of an ego. He is convinced that every last thing we bring into the house is for him. Some toys are more lame than others. But pretty much every bed-like thing makes him happy. A bed-like thing may be my jacket on the floor of the mud room, freshly folded laundry in a basket, or Keith's work uniforms (which had been on the table for about thirty seconds when I took this picture).

So needless to say, I've been a bit concerned about how to keep the cats out of the crib. Charlie will get in because he thinks the bed is his. Phoebe will get in because she loves to sleep ON people - specifically their necks. I may not be a pro at this parenting thing yet, but neither seem like a great idea to me.

We brought in the basinette, Charlie claimed it. Changing table in the nursery? His. So he never gets in the habit of hanging out in the crib, I've kept it chocked full of boxes, etc. so he can't sleep in there, but he still climbs over all the stuff like a mountain goat.

The vet suggested wiping everything down with citrus flavored cleaning solution to deter them. But this cat's willing to eat garlic! And then of course the spraying technique. Guess what? Charlie loves water. Even gets in the shower with me sometimes, just to play with the drips. I was beginning to think the situation was hopeless.

Enter craigslist.
Per wise suggestion, I invested in a second changing table for the main level of our house. We put it in the office. In front of the window. Charlie hasn't left it since we put it in. Sometimes he even shares with Phoebe. I don't think he's ever been happier with a bed-like thing in his house, ever. And I'm pretty sure he'd rather be here, in front of his window, than sharing a bed with a baby in a dark corner of an upstairs room any day. I kind of miss him in bed with us at night, but this is a HUGE relief!

Clearly, the window treatments are a work in progress.... :)

And so it begins

2008-08-28T15:09:00.004-04:00

Scene: College cafeteria
Vibe: chaos (aka "scramble system")
Purpose: shoot photographs of food and kids getting some
Quote of the day: "Wouldn't it be awesome if your water broke right now?"
Question of the day: Why in the sam hill are you thinking about that and not how to get this shot over with????

Remembering

2008-08-22T13:17:00.005-04:00

Having been married now for three years, I find myself still adjusting to considering my "in-laws" family. I truly feel bonded and connected to them in a familial way, but still have trouble calling them just mom instead of "keith's mom", etc. I find myself eager for the baby so that they I can just call her grandma... somehow that's easier.

The most frustrating part of all this is that I can't really put my finger on where the struggle to say the words comes from. I truly want to say them. My family won't feel betrayed or abandoned by calling someone else "mom", so what's my deal? It's further complicated by the fact that Keith just jumped right into calling my parents mom and dad. In my mind, it reveals part of his nature - to be so completely loving and transparent with everyone. So do I reflect the opposite nature by avoiding addressing these people at all costs? I think at the root of it all, it reveals more of a reluctance to change. The good news is that condition isn't permanent, I hope.

I also certainly can't blame any of them for making it difficult. I'll never forget the first time I spent real quality time with Keith's family. We weren't married yet - had only been dating a few months (which just happens to be a significant percentage of our courtship, but that's another story). The Hogans had rented a cabin on Lake Michigan for the weekend. Grandma Nancy was still living with them, so she was there. And Aunt Hallie was visiting from San Diego, so she came as well. Mom, dad, Keith and Faith and Troy made it a full house.

Hallie, Mom and grandma shared the room with twin beds, Troy and Faith slept in the basement, Keith and dad crashed on couches in the living room and I got the master room to myself. (Told you they don't make it difficult to feel welcome). I thought it would be a relaxing and quiet weekend at the lake. I hadn't met Aunt Hallie.

Every time I returned to "my" room, there was a new discovery of fake poop. I found pine cones shaped like poop on my pillow. Rocks shaped like poop on the floor. Rubber poop in my bag. A dirty diaper on the dresser. She was a never ending bag of tricks. They tried to teach me the Hartley Duck Lips (to no avail) and we laughed about boob jobs and botox. I bought my first pair of "billy bob" teeth. I learned family secrets. Quiet it was not. But it was comfortable, like only spending time with family really can be.

Grandma Nancy passed away about a year later. And then Aunt Hallie got sick. This weekend is Aunt Hallie's and mom's birthday (they were born on the same day, exactly two years apart) as well as the anniversary of her death. I've been thinking about her a lot this week, and praying for her husband and girls - and mom, too. With each thought, I'm struck by how close to home it feels. Hallie's death affected my family, not just Keith's. That awareness is a gift from above, I think.

When I think about Hallie's memorial, I think about the scene below - of mom and Rachel and Lane and Little Hallie all dancing in celebration of such a dear sister, aunt, friend.

It is finished

2008-08-11T12:44:00.007-04:00

We're a pint of touch up paint, a window blind, and some bedding away from having the nursery 100% complete. But I promised y'all pictures over a month ago, so here goes. Door from the hallway is to the left of the first picture and to the right of the last - this is a 360 of the room. Sorry they're a little soft. The stuff on the walls includes a needlework from Bangladesh, prints from Israel, B&W from Africa, a mobile and frame from Bangladesh, and a silk (?) painting from the Philippines, and some bunny ceramics that Keith's granny collected. It might prove to be a bit much, but at this point, I love it.

The swing won't stay in front of that closet door. And we put our fabulous purple glider in the living room and moved the lazy boy up from the basement because... well... can you believe we have more room in this bedroom than our living room?

The Armoir (another of Keith's inheritance from granny) has had the fabric replaced and yes, Heidi, that's your PBK mobile above the crib. Can I keep it?

And for you worry warts out there, I KNOW --- Nothing in the crib except for baby. But Peter's holding down the fort for now.

My parents came this weekend and my mom helped me make some decisions about the clothes situation. It's solved. I weigh 20lbs less now. Huge relief. Huge. I just needed someone to tell me what to do. It worked.

All this is probably way too much information... but something tells me there's a handful of you who will still have questions. My answer? Come visit.

overly dramatic, yet desperate plea for help

2008-08-04T13:11:00.004-04:00

No one reading this should be surprised that I like to organize. Especially closets. I don't always like maintaining organization, but getting everything into appropriate groups makes my heart happy. And nothing is better than an organized closet.

Keith gave me light in the nursery closet last week, so I've begun trying to figure out where things will go in the entire room. You would think this would be less of a chore for me - it really is just grouping things, but it's completely unknown territory. I sort of feel like I've been asked to organize a wood working shop. Do you want chizels hanging for easy access or are they better in a drawer? Does each tool get its own spot, or do you group similar tools together, kind of like in the kitchen? I'm completely paralyzed without a plan.

I started by washing the oodles of hand-me-downs we've received. And then I stopped. Do I organize by type? Ie short-sleeved-no-legged onesies, sleepers, winter, summer... And if this is the route, what are the categories??? I opted to go with sizes instead - I sorted by 0-3, 3-6, and 6-9 month and for now, each size has a drawer. But it's not going to cut it. I'm almost out of drawer space and the sizes across brands are totally different. Is there any point in hanging anything ever? Oooh - just had an idea - I do have some of those closet shelf hanger thingys... but still the sorting issue.

I know that I will find a groove once I'm actually living in that room, but in the meantime - any advice??? I already signed up for Martha's organizing tip of the day but so far she's been worthless and I'm one more package from Diapers.com away from a meltdown.

When I'm Mrs. America

2008-07-28T11:06:00.004-04:00

...this has real potential for a platform.

This is what happens when you google yourself

2008-07-25T15:40:00.002-04:00

be glad you aren't an "intern"

2008-07-24T16:48:00.004-04:00

Monday: Dead possum found in front of office. Intern told to find shovel and remove of roadkill. Intern eagerly looks for shovel. No luck, thankfully. Or the rotting carcass would still be in our dumpster. City is called. Road kill interaction averted. For now.

Wednesday: Intern picks up boss from airport, drives him to office. Both arrive to loading dock to find dead mouse outside the door. (Seriously, is there something in the air?) I open the door, boss stops it and says, "Don't squish the mouse! Get a shovel." Intern reports the shovel is MIA. I grab background paper (heavy duty stuff) - well over three feet of it - hand it to the intern and say, "Here - just throw it in the dumpster." Boss yells, "No! You can't ask the intern to manhandle dead meat." (Or something to that effect). Other boss overhears, pushes the men out of the way and womanhandles the dead meat.

Thursday: Intern sent to pick up more background paper (one too many roadkills and we're out). Given boss' car for the errand. Lays down the back seat, sets large tube of heavy paper from trunk to front seat. Closes the trunk. Shatters windshield. Passenger's side window won't roll down. Intern stranded 45:00 away from office. Panics.

Meanwhile, we've heard about our editor's favorite joke at the old place, asking the intern to go downstairs and find the bars and tone. There was no downstairs.

Glimpse of heaven?

2008-07-23T11:39:00.006-04:00

I like this. And since I haven't had anything clever or witty to share and still haven't downloaded any pictures from our weekend with Abbie, here it is. Enjoy. Thanks, Katie.

If you liked it too, you can read more about it here.

I'm not sure if it's the hormones or the recent news that we may be able to see Troy and Faith and Yazzie home from Bangladesh this Christmas, but it actually chokes me up a little bit.

This just in

2008-07-14T16:04:00.002-04:00

Due date's been bumped up from September 29 to September 21. 8 days might not feel like a lot to you, but I've officially scheduled my freakout for this Friday. Brace yourself, Heid.

Quote of the Day

2008-07-10T17:22:00.001-04:00

Courtesy of the "intern"

"So... ah... it's not really appropriate to bring alcohol to work. Right????"

Promotion?

2008-07-09T09:41:00.002-04:00

Just for the record, the power would definitely go to my head.

Long overdue

2008-07-08T14:42:00.015-04:00

It's only July 8 and I've already had a great summer. I owe you some pictures.

Keith's been busy on projects at the house. Not even mentioning the nursery (pictures to come soon - we're so close!), he's been busy. He built a fence. Dodger hates it because it made his yard very boring (no good views of the street), but I can put him outside without keeping half an eye on him like normal. This will be an even bigger deal once the baby arrives, I suppose. Here it is in progress - the finished product is even more impressive!

He also managed to kill the weed that threated to eat our house. This sucker seriously sprang up in a week and had thorns. It has to be some sort of demon plant.

This summer is also the first time in our marriage that Keith regularly falls asleep before me. I celebrate this as a sort of "high." Although it breaks my heart to tell Dodger it's time to get down. Can you even believe how huge he is?

We haven't stayed home ALL summer, though...
We went to Florida - saw alligators, my grandpa's "smile" and Lily in the ocean for the first time.

We also went to Detroit and and saw the Tigers beat the Dodgers - my first professional sporting event!

We mourned the loss of Dodger's special friend, Wednesday. (Named after hump-day, you get the picture). I seriously think we have more pictures of this dog than anything else in our life. For now.
Lily turned one year old!

We celebrated our anniversary by camping up north this past weekend. I don't think there was ever a more perfect weekend in terms of weather. It's impossible to not like camping when it's this great. This is 6' from our tent. Awesome. I just wish I had a picture of back-packer Keith blowing up his pregnant wife's MONSTROUS air mattress!!

And just to prove that I do let Keith handle the camera sometimes and I AM still alive.... hi.

Week of Threes

2008-07-01T09:13:00.005-04:00

This week marks the beginning of my third timester and my third anniversary to my husband. We're adjusting to the first and celebrating the latter.

As far as the pregnancy goes, I'm in a bit of shock. Only three more months until we meet our son. The first three months felt like eons. The second three months felt like three months. I'm a little concerned that the third three months will feel more like hours. If one more person tells me "September is just around the corner!" I might get violent. I suppose it helps that I'm experiencing some minor discomforts. Nothing too drastic or even worth complaining about. I just wish I could bend over to plug in my computer each morning without making that old man noise. And I know that women who have had babies before get to this stage and are counting down the days because they just want their pregnancy to be over. Not me. Still significantly intimidated by the idea of getting every necessary baby part from the inside of me to the outside of me. Besides that, I feel pretty comfortable with the idea of pregnancy. I get it. I figured out how to cope with the annoyances. Motherhood on the other hand, new ball game. I'm pretty sure it'll take more than 27 weeks to catch on there...

And then again, when I think about how much my life, my perspective, my outlook has changed (all for the better) in three years of marriage, I can't even begin to imagine what life will look like three years from now. I'll have a son who (Lord willing) walks and talks and hopefully uses the potty on his own. He'll call me mommy. He'll adore his daddy almost as much as I do. And I'll have been married to my best friend for six years.

I can't imagine how fun that's going to be.

Bummer of a craving

2008-06-27T15:31:00.004-04:00

It's Friday.
It's been a heck of a week.
It's sticky hot today.
Calls for a little taste of summer, I think.

What I really want:

How I'll settle:

I don't mean to whine, but

2008-06-25T08:54:00.003-04:00

I seriously think in hell, everyone will have mosquito bites on their toes for eternity.

Maybe it's all the rain, but seriously - where did these monsters come from? They just appeared, overnight. And they're HUGE. And my toes, well... they're in hell.

Confession

2008-06-24T16:11:00.002-04:00

I don't know how to make camping happen.
Keith and I planned to go camping last weekend. He had to work.
This weekend, he's going with the care group boys. I'm miffed.
July 4th weekend is our anniversary. We will camp.
I want an inland lake, because I want to swim with my dog.
I find campgrounds that look good, but they don't take reservations. And it's a bloody holiday weekend. People will be camping over the 4th starting this weekend.
Arg.
I want to be someplace we haven't been before, but drivable in 4 hours or less.
Any suggestions?

Normally, this would totally be Keith's job, but he just hasn't had any time for the internet lately. I'm trying to fill the gap and failing miserably. But I'm here to tell you - if it requires sleeping in the back yard, we will be camping next weekend. You have my word.

Unless it's real hot...

It's just a great day to be me

2008-06-20T14:35:00.003-04:00

Doc called first thing this morning - passed the three hour test. (Way to go, pancreas - I knew you could do it!)

Then I bit the bullet and finally went to the eye doctor. It's been over 6 years since I had new glasses and my contact supply is pathetic. I've been stalling because it's just so dang expensive. Thank you, Walmart. Not only did you save me over $150 from my overpriced, Gucci wearing eye doc on "the north side", but you gave me a doctor who is pregnant and allergic to all the same things as me. I have 2 new prescriptions, new contacts, new glasses, a new process of cleaning and storing my lenses guaranteed to cut down on my allergies (if you're interested, I'll fill you in) and a newfound loyalty to the thief of small-town entrepreneurship.

The bosses decided to offer lunch on the house today as thanks for all the tails being busted around here lately. It included dirt dessert and about 20 too many gummy worms.

And as if this 72 degree sunny day couldn't get any better, I just had yet another encounter with our "intern" that made me laugh out loud. Moments ago, I boxed all my strapless bras to ship off to a bridesmaid (you know who you are) in need of... shall we say "support" (they should get there Monday!) I was pretty intentional about bringing them into the office in a plastic bag and boxing them up in a room alone. All very covert. So the box is sitting in the place where UPS always looks. Cue the "intern" (in quotes because I believe intern-sans-quotes implies some sort of experience/interest in the field). "Have you seen the shipment for cases come in yet?" Nope - haven't signed for anything today. Better track it. Exit "intern." Intern returns with the bra box. "I found this one - should I open it?" Oh... the only way to make this day any better is to forget describing how you can read a label and see who it's addressed to, forget describing that 1,000 CD cases is much heavier than a few bras, and just say "Why not? Might as well check, eh?" Guess we'll have to save that one for a rainy day.

Riddle Me This

2008-06-17T12:10:00.003-04:00

Why is it that whenever someone new can't remember my name, by default I am automatically Amy or Heather?
Without fail!
The only exception is when people mishear me on the phone and call me Sharon.
What I wouldn't give to be something more exotic or exciting. But to replace boring midwest name for another boring midwest name - it's just... well, boring and midwest.

some random thoughts on Monday

2008-06-16T16:09:00.003-04:00

I think with few exceptions, adults just aren't challenged enough. Sure, we're challenged with the day-to-day living and normal growing-older-changes. But when was the last time you were faced with a real "what do I stand for" challenge? I can't remember the last time, save not flipping off the idiot who played chicken with me in the left turn lane last Thursday.

Sunday's Sermon was all about "what message are you giving?" What's it mean to live as a priest (a la Malachi 1). It's an interesting question. I think too often, my response to a less than ideal situation is anxiety, anger, sarcasm. When it should really be more of grace, acceptance, truth.

This kid I know modeled such behavior for me. I'd retell the story, but I've already heard it thrice daily for the past week. You can read one of the many articles about him here.

I've also been completely sucked into a Christian Ficition novel (gasp!) that I NEVER would have picked up off the shelf if a friend hadn't placed it in my lap. If you need a role model and have some beach time this summer, check out Francine Rivers' Mark of the Lion trilogy. There's more there than reaches the eye, I swear.

I know these three thoughts seem quite unrelated, but in my head they all work together for one compelling conviction - being a Christian takes some work. And I've been freeloading for too long. Next step: do something about it.

Dear Pancreas

2008-06-13T09:36:00.003-04:00

Look here. I realize that you have absolutely zero genes telling you how to function properly. But I'm here to tell you it's time to step it up a bit. And before you get all defensive about being singled out, I just want you to know that I have never written a letter to another organ, so that makes you special.

I know that being responsible for two bodies instead of one is a big deal. Especially when it's difficult just working for one. I've always known you were a bit weak and would probably need some support. I'm here to tell you I'll offer that support. Please don't require support from pills or injections. Isn't my loving encouragement enough??

If you need inspiration, just look at Heart or Lungs. They seem to be doing well, even with the current conditions. (Although I'd rather you not take any cues from Right Ankle - he's been freaking out for weeks now.) What I'm trying to say here is that this is new for ALL of us. And it takes a little extra effort. But the bottom line is we're in this thing together and the result of our effort will totally be worth it. So buck up, trooper.

The bad news is you failed a test yesterday. You were required to process a butt-load of sugar within an hour and you did a half-ass job. The good news is, you get a second chance. Next week some time, you and me, we'll go to the lab and sit for three hours while you work your little pancre-ass off. I want you to know that no one will be cheering harder for you that day than me. This is also your warning - you need to get in shape. Next week will be the same amount of sugar, but this time you get three hours to process it instead of one. I think you can do it. In the meantime, I'll do my best to keep a positive attitude because with you and me, it's all about chemistry, isn't it?

another reason I'm not Buddhist

2008-06-06T16:59:00.002-04:00

You should read This article, inspired by this article.
And then watch this, just for fun.

I had thoughts about this I was going to jot down when I first began this post... but now I'm officially motivated to call it a day and get home. So, talk amongst yourself. TGIF.

just think if I had had a bad day

2008-06-04T09:35:00.003-04:00

I went to Meijer last night. I should have just stayed home and poked my eyes out. Or grown my own food - it would have taken less time.

They're in the process of remodeling. That Meijer has been the same since I was a freshmen in college. Now all the sudden the yogurt (which used to be in the very last aisle) is temporarily in the produce section?! Don't get me wrong - I'm thrilled with the potential for an upgrade. All I'm asking for is a friendly little note in the very last aisle that says "You can now find yogurt in the produce section." Is that seriously too much to ask?

I thought my quick errand would take 30 minutes max. It was an hour because I walked the entire length of the store - all four corners - at least four times. Greeting cards are in the front?! Arg.

They're also working on installing more self-check outs, but they're all still express lanes. The two cashiers on my end of the store are adolescent males. I make it a habit to never stand in a teenage boy's line. They're at least twice as slow as any other human being on the planet. I was intrigued by some of the articles in Fit Pregnancy. Lucky for me, I had a chance to read them all before even putting my things on the conveyer. And then he wants to talk about the weather. It was all I could do to not shove him out of the way and scan my own groceries. "You don't have to look up the number for cherries - it's right on the bag..."

And the best part? I bought four greeting cards. He read them. All. But he didn't understand one of them. He asked me about it.

"I guess you just have to hope no one sends that one to you!"

I wasn't even in a hurry, but this is why people go postal.

Shining Happy People

2008-06-02T16:41:00.004-04:00

We had a great vacation, but we kind of sucked at documenting it.
I'll show you instead what church looks like to me.
I stole this one from Hannah (she's on the far right) - it's our small group family at Captain Sundae at our spring retreat a few weeks back. It's warmer now in Michigan, I swear.
I think this picture is just great and this blog is the closest I come to framing anything these days, so here goes.

hormones make me cheesy

2008-05-22T11:20:00.004-04:00

I've been humming this song for weeks - pretty much ever since Keith started his new job. It's been an adjustment for us - a new schedule, a new level of exhaustion, a shake up of household responsibilities, a new budget - the works. But it's been awesome. And to have a husband who comes home every day covered with dirt, but happy to his core to have done something productive makes my heart happy. And the truth is I love him to pieces.

And it's no surprise to anyone who knows me that mornings are not exactly my "best" time. I believe it was Wassa who said it best. "Watching Johnson wake up is painful. It's as if she's never had to face a morning before in her life. Each day, it's a new and traumatizing experience." (or something like that, right Wass?) BUT... even with 5 months with no caffeine (besides one moment of weakness and a can of mountain dew), I'm PRODUCTIVE in the morning! Getting to bed at 10pm is good for my soul. I still sleep in more than Keith and have to live with the daily guilt of my hour-long love/hate relationship with the snooze button. But I even TALK before getting to work. To the animals, of course. But this is like breaking new ground. And I'm not tired in the afternoon. And I'm happier. And I just feel like a good person, almost like I'm better than everyone else dragging in exhausted, almost like I jog in East Grand Rapids.

All of that to say, my morning-Susie-homemaker-self has been humming good ol' Kenny for quite some time because of the chorus, really. I remember Meghan declaring this would be her wedding song. For me, I feel as though it's my theme song this month. So I decided I better look up the lyrics. I read them today. And they made me cry.

I don't have any idea who won American Idol last night, but I'll bet you that person is no Kenny Loggins. And I'm here to say I wish there were more of him because Light Rock is where it's at!

Hogan genes

2008-05-20T08:46:00.009-04:00

I've always pictured my baby looking like a Johnson.
But I have two nephews now, who are cousins of each other, who look as though they could be brothers.
The good news is they're both dang cute.

Meet Yazzie. He's wearing pink because he lives in Bangladesh and they don't really care about our social norms. It's a miracle we got these pictures - the internet there is slower than customer service at Verizon.

And I think Yazzie looks just like his cousin Lane, who looks just like his grandpa and great-grandpa, don't you think?

Then again, maybe it's just the bald head...

milestones

2008-05-19T10:44:00.004-04:00

I'm pretty sure I want this blog to be more than a pregnancy journal, but my "deep" thoughts are a little too scattered to be published. So for today, a report on two milestones reached this weekend:

1. I felt a kick. More like a thump. I'd do anything to feel it again.

2. I now understand what it means to nest. I'm unstoppable. I wish I could bottle this. Spare room - check. Study - check. Next: hall closet and the basement. I told Keith that if he doesn't want me in the garage than he better kick it in gear. I'm even considering tackling the storage bin of old photos (gasp!) - and could there even be a wedding album order??? Shocking. I've got to make hay before it gets hot or it will never last. I feel like a million bucks. Go ahead - ask me where Keith's birth certificate is. I know. And yes, I actually am donating a total of four cardigans from my teaching days. That reminds me - I need to go through the shoes. Oh if it weren't for this blasted job...

It's a boy!

2008-05-18T19:29:00.000-04:00

Letter to my son

2008-05-13T09:08:00.005-04:00

My Dear Baby Boy,

I already feel like I've loved you my whole life. This week, Daddy and I got our first glimpse of you through the ultrasound monitor. It was the first day we knew for sure you were a boy (although we both had a hunch all along)! It was a magical day! It made us so impatient for the day when we can hold you and kiss you and touch you all over, from the tip of your head to the bottoms of your feet.

I get distracted a lot lately, dreaming about you. I wonder if you'll have lots of dark hair when you're born and if your fingers will be long like mine or thick like daddy's. I can't wait for you to meet your family - they all love you so much. And you won't believe how fun your pets are.

I've been praying for you since before you were alive and I continue to every single day. I pray that God will grow you healthy and strong, that he'll protect you from common baby discomforts and that he'll reveal himself to you, even now. Daddy and I think we have your name picked out already, but we know for sure that God knows it.

I can't feel you yet and lots of people don't even notice you as a "bump" in me yet, but we saw all of your working parts this week - we know that you're whole and unique and that we couldn't possibly love you more. I'm already so proud to call myself your mom.

with all the love in my heart,
mommy

Klompen Dancing = Onomatopoeia

2008-05-08T15:34:00.001-04:00

Just in case you won't make it to our neck of the woods this year - here's how the streets of Holland look these days

Confession of an office rat

2008-05-07T11:22:00.003-04:00

I have a fantasy.
I've had it all morning.
I seriously can't shake it.

It's pouring today. And really windy. Downright blustery, I'd say.
When I let Dodger out this morning, he almost blew off the deck.
My first thought was "Sucky day to be a tree climber."
My second thought was "I wonder if it's windy enough to knock out the power."

And then I got all warm and fuzzy inside.
Just think of it - internet down, no biggee. Phones down - dream day. But power down?! Go home!!! Sit in the dark! Take a nap! How glorious.

Work isn't even that bad, so it would be just a straight up treat. I wonder if I just tripped a breaker how convincing it would be...

Isn't it supposed to be APRIL showers?

2008-05-02T16:40:00.001-04:00

Nice timing, guys

Cha-cha-cha-changes

2008-05-01T16:42:00.006-04:00

It's been a while, so I'm not really sure where to start.
I've been a bit distracted lately. And I haven't really known how to blog about the big stuff (like meeting every last Hogan and loving every second of it, except the part where I picked up pink eye). But I was reminded of my blog friend when I sat at my desk today contemplating the life of the massive bumble bee that hovers outside the door all day every day. He was here last year, too. Where'd he go during the winter? Does he have friends? Is "he" really a million different bees, each standing guard of their invisible home on different shifts? Hmmm.... I wonder.

That bee is about the only thing in my life that's the same as last spring. My address is different. My waistline is different. My job is different. My outlook is different. (Elephant ears and lemonade at tulip time - that's the same, thank God.)

This week, the most tangible change has been Keith's new job.

And his new hair cut.

Yep. Those are chainsaw chaps and a #1 on the clippers. And yes, they both scare me a bit. So does the idea of our family reentering the world of commuting. So does being my husband's hairdresser. But I've decided I need to not get scared so easily. Told you things are changing.

And would you believe I just now saw TWO bumble bees? Must be a shift change. Amazing.

Bizarre

2008-04-16T11:10:00.004-04:00

We got to go hear the heartbeat again yesterday. It was different this time - easier to find, louder - Bud sure is growing fast! There was also a new sound this time - a very electronic sounding blip that interrupted the heartbeat. I panicked at first and Doctor said, "That's the baby moving."

REALLY?!

I mean, rationally, I know it's not just sitting in there, stuck to the wall with velcro or something. But there were a TON of blips! And Bud's about the size of an apple.

I can't tell you how creepy it is to think of something the size of an apple moving and grooving in my abdomen without having the slightest inclination that it's happening.

Second only to how creepy it must be to be able to feel another human being moving and grooving in your abdomen! I'll tell you in a few more weeks...

I'm jealous again

2008-04-09T14:26:00.003-04:00

Keith spent time in the Old City today.
I loved that place...
If it's not already on your list of places to go in life, add it.
And have some shawarma with extra pickles for me!

Weird Dream

2008-04-09T10:04:00.002-04:00

I haven't been sleeping too great lately, and have been having the strangest dreams.
Last night, I dreamt a vivid music video for Crash Test Dummies' "Mmmm" song.
You know the one...
"Once, there was this kid who
got into an accident and couldn't come to school..."

I have not heard that song anywhere but my dream, but I've had it stuck in my head all morning.

Now you do, too :)

Guilty Pleasure

2008-04-08T16:35:00.004-04:00

I promised Keith not to name our child while he was out of town, but I have been playing around with a few (trying my best not to fall in love with anything as he still has veto power).

Whenever a name gets stuck in my head for over a day, I consider it a contender. And by name I mean first and second. Once a name is a contender, I google it. No need to name our child after a serial killer. Or porn star.

It's seriously entertaining.

And that's really all I have to say about that. Because no, I'm not giving you any hints on the contenders. Osama's out, though. For sure.

new blog

2008-04-04T13:44:00.004-04:00

Most of you are my friends because I like how you're sarcastic and witty. So I think you'll appreciate the new blog over there on the right called "stuff christians like."

So far, my favorite post is this one. I can't believe he didn't mention "the juice."

Thoughts on Egypt

2008-04-02T09:16:00.003-04:00

I haven't really blogged about this, so here goes.
I never wanted to go to Egypt. A year and a half ago, when we started planning this production, I didn't want to go. I spent weeks, no - months, praying that God would change my heart. My assumption was that I didn't want to go because I was scared of it. After some serious soul searching, I came to terms with the fact that what I really wanted was to be pregnant. And I felt called to be - now. And I was tired of putting my life on hold for my job, no matter how cool of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity awaited. It was a matter of pride to comes to terms with that. But once I did, I have never felt more relieved and satisfied in my identity. God even blessed me with a pregnancy pretty close to "my" timeline. I have never had any regrets about not hauling a 60lb backpack through the desert for 20 hour days.

Until today.

Keith called this morning from the top of Mount Sinai. I could be there with him. But I'm at home, knocked up. I say it so casually because my twinge of jealousy, of what could have been, is short lived. Sitting at my desk sorting receipts, I am doing the most important job of my life - I'm a mother.