Wednesday, May 18, 2011

chuckle now, funny boy.

we’ve been playing with the idea of potty training with jonas. basically that means that we’ve introduced the potty chair to him, he sits on it occasionally, we talk about going potty, etc. the past several weeks he’s actually been telling us (right after the fact) that he’s pooped, which is a great step in the process of being diaper-free.

while we’d love for him to be out of diapers by the time noah arrives in late july, there’s no pressure. if he is, then great! if he’s not, then great! he’ll get there whenever he is ready.

the problem with all of this “bathroom talk” is that he’s decided to take it upon himself to announce to strangers the poo-status.

unfortunately, it’s never been about him pooping.

a week or so ago, i was making some returns at target. he pointed out that the cashier was wearing a red shirt, and i gave him a lot of praise because he’s been doing SOOOOO well pointing out colors correctly. and then he looked at her, eyes opened wide, nodding his head and said, “mommy pooped.”

i’m not sure why i suddenly felt the need to assure the cashier that no, i had not in fact pooped myelf by trying to correct jonas. and his response?

“MOMMY POOPED!!” with even wider eyes and more vigor in his nodding.

i quickly finished up the transaction, realizing that this was a lose-lose situation in that i’m either calling my son a liar or they think I’M LYING because WHY WOULD A TWO YEAR OLD LIE ABOUT POOP?

and for the record, no. i did not poop my pants, thankyouverymuch.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

the island of misfit toys

i grew up in a church. every sunday was spent in sunday school and then listening to the sermon. the older i got, the more questions i had about God, who He was, what He was, and why things happen the way they do.

the church i grew up in wasn’t conducive to asking questions. blind faith was on the docket. asking questions was not. sermons were filled with the preacher both yelling and crying weekly. no matter what the original topic was, it usually came down to the evils of homosexuality or how 10% is just the beginning amount you should tithe.

so weekly i’d take an offering envelope and cover it with verses about love.

i was either a senior in high school or recently graduated when one of the girls a little older than me became pregnant. in such a scary but beautiful time, we were told that we could not hold a baby shower for her on church property. because she wasn’t married. and so we had it at the youth minister’s house.

if this was how church was, how God was, then i wanted nothing to do with it. because i couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that God would want us to essentially shun someone because they were carrying a baby…one of God’s most perfect creations.

a year or so after graduating high school, i started to withdraw from church. it wasn’t a welcoming place.

after john and i started dating, we began to search for a church. somewhere honest. somewhere welcoming. somewhere where the message was based on God, the Bible, and truth. we tried different denominations, churches with different age ranges, and in various cities.

and then we found vintage.  there were people who fell all across the spectrum financially, politically, and age-wise. we gathered in the music hall, drank coffee, and worshipped God. we learned that it was okay to have questions, to have doubts, about God. that it wasn’t only okay, but it was normal and healthy to entertain discussions on topics that seemed so taboo in other churches. that yes, our God is a God of wrath, but also of love. that grace is such a precious and beautiful gift that we don’t deserve but yet is given to us to freely. and that grace, well, it can change the world.

i look at the others who surround me at vintage, and i think it’s safe to say that we’ve all been broken by other churches. shunned for this reason or that. turned off by “religion”. disappointed by the hypocrisy of our religious leaders. we’re sort of like the island of misfit toys.

but we’ve found our place. and it feels like home.

Monday, May 9, 2011


f9038de3d9934f679fcc195077e8b594_7 enjoying a juice box
it’s just past mother’s day…and your second birthday. you are by far the best mother’s day gift i could ever receive (although you walking for the first time LAST mother’s day was pretty spectacular).
you’re seriously one of the funniest kids i know. while you may be shy at first, you quickly warm up when around others and let that little personality through. when you really start going, you get this wild look in your eyes sometimes and you remind me of your Daddy so very much. and that’s a really good thing, because we both happen to think that Daddy is one of the best people out there.
1e38126d2faa4e1dbb19ed26a29b50be_7 giddy up!
you can count to ten and can identify (or rather, use them as an adjective) several colors. you love to sing, and hearing you sing “jesus loves me” just about melts my heart.
anything that can “go fast!” and that has wheels goes straight to your heart. you already ask for the car keys so you can drive. i have a feeling that we’re going to be in a lot of trouble once you hit sixteen and the freedom it brings behind the wheel!
3ff47fc0ef87482ba4de47ab3226cbae_7 let’s go!
every weekend morning you have two requests…to watch gumby and to have some milk. so we crawl up into Mommy and Daddy’s bed, you prop yourself up against a still sleeping Daddy, and we watch the thrilling saga that is gumby and his creepy little friends. whatever. you love it, so that’s good enough for me.
0d8ff4ab1bb04110a04231449222736a_7 laying some sweet harmonies down with grammie
you still play the guitar, harmonica, drum, and sing into the microphone. now that you’ve discovered the joy of hamming it up, you can be found a lot of the time in front of the mirror at home watching your handsome self break it down. 
little boy, we are so so SO proud of you. you’re getting so big and so smart…our hearts can barely keep up with how much we love you. you will always hold a piece of me because you, YOU are the one who made me a Mommy.
3b0255a69db948988bb07a81bcca419f_7 and nothing will ever come between that.
baf69ac6cd774f64af753831d3cefcfa_6 happy birthday, monster.

Monday, May 2, 2011

the second time around

i think that the second time you’re pregnant (and i’m sure the third, fourth, and so on) something changes. you already know what to expect because of the been there, done that mentality. you know what to eat, what to drink, what you need to function as a human being during those 40 weeks.

it’s old news.

the New Kid is about 2/3rds the way there (actually, 28 weeks and 2 days in). it seems like this pregnancy has been flying by, and i’m guessing it has something to do with the recessive-gene toddler living down the hall. all i know is that if this baby comes out all tan, buff,  and with dark hair, i got some ‘splainin’ to do.

but besides being used to what being pregnant feels like, you can’t help but compare the pregnancies. when did you stop feeling nauseous with the first one? when did you feel the first kicks? i know that personally i was SO excited when i wasn’t experiencing any of the horrible heartburn that i did with jonas. i mean, with jonas i would literally wake up vomiting because the reflux was so bad. i really thought i was in the clear with the New Kid, but in the past weeks i’ve reclaimed BFF status with my prevacid stash from last time.

with both pregnancies so far, i’ve been huge. i’ve only gained 10 pounds (give or take a pound depending on the day) with Noah, but that doesn’t stop the belly from entering the room 8 seconds before the rest of me appears. it’s just how i carry babies, and i’ve come to embrace that. i’m large and in charge. kickin’ ass and takin’ names.

or something like that.

for me, being pregnant has been such a gift. yeah, i complain sometimes that my back hurts or that my hips seem extra waddle-y some days. and cramming myself into a pair of dress pants for work is no longer even part of my reality.

if the pants ain’t stretchin’, then they’re no good to me.

i’m so excited (and frankly a little terrified) to see what life is going to be like with two little guys, a husband, and a pooch that i can’t stand it. there’s something oddly comforting to know that we can do this, that we’ve experienced the dreaded newborn insanity stage before and made it through just fine, and that we’re going to be okay the second time around, too. there is a light at the end of the tunnel, even when it seems like it’s just a flicker on the walls.