Baby Bean

Hello! :)

I am choosing to share this story for the simple fact that I have many beloved friends and family members scattered many miles apart and the chance of me being able to converse with everyone face-to-face is an impossibility. Also, I think sometimes, a picture of a sonogram and a piece of fruit just doesn’t cut it. I usually frown upon social media sites being used as a platform for sharing deeply personal information, but I think I can tactfully make an exception, this once.

Nearly fourteen weeks along, I have experienced every emotion imaginable (some more than others), and have probably had the longest, roughest, most trying three months of my life. But I’ll spare you those details. I’ve astonishingly even lost friends over this issue, because my life doesn’t fit into the mold of “ideal circumstances” for things such as this. You know, like, marriage, house in the suburbs, or a plan. All of those things would be welcome in this situation, but it’s not my reality. A few people have asked me if I considered abortion, because it would be “so much easier and convenient.” I feel sick just typing that. I’ve also been asked how ashamed I was going to be to have to tell people, because I’m single, and the father isn’t a part of my life anymore. I have to admit that feelings of shame and regret are something I still deal with, but not shame of the little life inside me, but only because of the circumstances that it was brought to life. My personal favorite is, “Oh no! What are you going to do?!” I’m not a doctor or anything, but I think I’m going to get really big and then have a baby.

I’ve honestly had enough negative comments to last me the remaining six months.

But this is my reality: I truly and honestly believe that He gives life and makes no mistakes. He orchestrates all of creation at all times and is perfectly in control, regardless of whether I wake up feeling completely overwhelmed and incapable or not. What has so often been referred to as my “mistake” and “irresponsibility” is truly a gift, and I will treat it that way.

I was able to have my first ultrasound a few weeks ago, and it was the single most greatest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life… and the most terrifying. Hopefully some of you can relate. I mean, there is a PERSON inside of me. I was truly speechless as I listened to the heartbeat and the nurse pointing out all its tiny little features. That was the moment that everything became real. I wasn’t just puking every morning for nothing (the struggle is real, y’all). Side note: It’s unnerving to think that something so small has complete control over my entire being. I can’t even look at a steak without getting all gaggy. If you know me, you understand the severity of my situation.

With that said, I hope you can join in this exciting time, as well as put up with all the upcoming preggo pics… because that’s definitely happening (you’re welcome).

So… say hi to Baby Bean (endearing food-nicknames open to suggestion)… due May 2^nd, 2014!!!!

Land of Enchantment

"Between them, our parents had about seven thousand books. Whenever we moved to a new house, a carpenter would build a quarter of a mile of shelves..."

This quote is unfortunately not from me. When I did read it, however, my heart skipped a beat and I had to force myself to quell a little anger and frustration (that so desired to manifest itself) at not living a similar childhood. Actually, from what I can remember, my childhood was completely the opposite. I don't remember ever seeing many books in my home, and of course as consequence, never remember seeing my parents reading. This may have been because they had five children, six years apart, to handle, which is completely understandable. However, something inside me is jealous of those kids who were able to rub their little hands over the spines of such wonderful gems, balancing themselves on bookshelves as they learned to walk, and being scolded for slobbering on the corner of Hugo.

I was never a legatee of such treasures. Yet somehow, the treasure was buried in me, to bequeath on to my very own.

I have this feeling that the only reason my children will hate books is because they have grown tired of tripping over them, having to push them aside to sit on the couch, eat at the table, or seeing them instead of their parent's faces.

I even have dreams of going on "reading dinners" (name change open to suggestion) with my little family. This, of course, is where we go out to some cute local restaurant, each with our favorite book (or book we are currently absorbed in) in tow, and spend the evening reading and talking about what we love, hate, and are learning from our lovely portable friends. And if you're sitting there, tilting your head to the side and whistling one of those "Eeesh, she's gone off the deep-end" tunes (think: the infamous slide whistle when Wile E. Coyote was thrown off the edge of a cliff, TNT strapped to his back, by that cunning roadrunner), let me mention that I've seen more than one family thoroughly enjoying this exact little ritual.

One of my favorite paintings is "Land of Enchantment" by Norman Rockwell, one of my favorite artists. I fully determine to have this painting hanging in my children's room. Possibly right above their crib in the nursery:

So, until I have my own little ones to impart the joy of reading to, here is a little list of "Books Mothers/Fathers/Both-tag-teaming-at-once Must Read to Their Children." Feel free to add or remove as you please!

1. The Giving Tree

2. Where the Wild Things Are

3. Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs

4. The Phantom Tollbooth (chapter book. For the older ones)

5. Corduroy

6. Peter Pan (The original is incredible)

7. Ferdinand the Bull

8. A Light in the Attic

I could go on about the statistics of the benefits of reading to children and bore you half to death, but I'll skip that and leave you to hopefully tiptoe to your children's bedside, lulling them to sleep with some wonderful literature.

Velcro Shoes and Mermaid Bikes

Not sure what it is about coffee shops that make you want to exhume your roots and pour out all you inner chaos onto paper (or a macbook), thinking that people really want to read about all your personal musings. Maybe it's the warm lighting. Or the being aloneness. Either way, you are still reading...

Do you ever have those moments where you are suddenly transported back about fifteen or so years (assuming you are in your early to mid 20s) to your early childhood? Of course you do. My moments usually happen during those [frequent] aimless drives to nowhere. Growing up, there were few things that captured my heart more than sitting six inches away from the television, Hi-C juicebox in hand, listening to LeVar Burton read book after glorious book on The Reading Rainbow. Unfettering my mind, memories flashed and danced and poured and ran and flew over me. As one would pull itself up, another would be attached to another and another.

Memories of EZ Bake ovens, kindergarten graduation, school plays, Little Mermaid bicycles, honey-suckle and pecan picking, making sweet-tea popsicles (this happened), and much muchhhh more so generously greeted me.

As I drove on and was pulled back to present-day, I decided these little gems were too precious to let fly on without capturing a little something. How much will my 80-year old mind remember about these tender years? And oh the joy it will bring me in the future to think upon these times.

So here I sit, jotting down memory after memory that shows it's little face as quickly as I can. After just fifteen minutes of reminiscing, I have two full pages of wonderful (and now permanent) memories. I encourage you to do the same.

(wow, look at those shorts, would ya?!)

Cheers!

Ex Libris

Recently I opened the cover to what I thought would be nothing more than a cozy little read, knitting my love for books even tighter as I delved into the mind of a fellow bibliophile.

Now, I've always had quite a fondness for words, forcing myself to look up words I am unfamiliar with in my reading, but as I [very] slowly turned the first few pages of this wonderful book, I realized how quickly this lady was wearing out my nifty dictionary app on my phone (is this weird to you?). It was quite unsettling.

Here are some examples of words I had to look up, confident I had never even seen them before:

Grimoires
Adytum
Adapertile
Camorra
Aspergills
Opopanax

I think you catch my drift, or at least, by this point have wandered into the kitchen, positive that making a pb&j sandwich would be a much better use of your time.

Two conflicting feelings quickly surfaced after this first chapter: First, a hovering cloud of dread as I realized my love for the written word may have just been all talk (oddly enough), and a spark of excitement as my mind mused and masticated (stop giggling and go look it up) on this hearty bill of fare.

And who doesn't want to be able to correctly call someone a "milquetoast" to their face? I sure do. Moral of the story? Better vocab = better insults.

No, in all seriousness, constantly growing and developing your vocabulary clearly has many benefits.

Want to integrate new words into your drab vocab?

• Sign up to receive the 'Word of the Day' in your email via Dictionary.com here.


• Go to Freerice.com. This site helps build vocabulary while feeding impoverished nations. Win-Win.


• Don't skip over (or mumble incoherently) challenging words that cross your path. Take a moment to actually look up the word (the thought of a dictionary app suddenly isn't so foreign and laughable now).


• Watch this


• Buy this and thank me later.

-me-

blustery monday

It was quite a shock to step outside to THIS scene this morning:

As beautiful as it is to look at (from the warm coziness of my little apartment) it is a NIGHTMARE to drive/walk/stand in. Plus, I still haven't fully converted my wardrobe over to Missouri weather. I might possibly still be in denial/rebellion of my non-Texas residency... and just trying to make a point to mother nature. She... obviously is winning (and possibly [definitely] laughing hysterically at my fist-shaking).

Here is the view from outside my window at work. See? Pretty!

In other news, I have been actively pursuing my new year's resolution to learn me some HEBREW this year... and have to say am progressing quite nicely.

Ani mevinah k'tsat Ivrit, aval lo kolcach tov. (<--"I understand a little Hebrew, but not very well.") HAHA!

Shalom! L'hitra ot! :)

candlesticks

so, recently... as in five days ago... i finally finished les miserables. and i must say, i don't think i honestly knew what a good story was until the point i picked up that book. i cried... er-- wept my eyes out... for a good twenty minutes after i closed the back cover.

friends, if you do not read this masterpiece before you die... you might not have ever been truly living.

so, after i stopped sobbing, cleaned up the streaks of mascara off my face and officially thanked my lucky stars that i was NOT in a public place when i finished this book, i started feeling an all-too-common emotion... similar to losing a close friend. you see, after weeks and weeks of toting around this book, taking it with me to coffee shops, falling asleep night after night with it perched on my knees, sneaking away with it on lunch breaks, and taking little peeks into its pages any chance i could... it sort of became (for those who have never felt this emotion, please disregard the borderline creepishness of this and take note that i DO have a social life) a companion and friend.

sometimes, i half expected to meet jean valjean on the street, giving him my sincere apology for the tragedies in his life, congratulating him on his successes, twirling around little cosette, and telling them how much i look forward to getting to know them better.

and as i place this lovely piece of literature back on the shelf, i DO look forward to the moment my son or daughter plucks it out of my home library (because you KNOW this is going to happen), and flips through the same pages that gave me so much joy.

ok ok ok, i get it. a bit much, right? just read it already! ...and thank me later :)

- me -

you know those days...

where you just feel so stifled? like there's this aliveness inside you, bubbling through your veins, and trying to poke its wings out... but you, you have to be the one to close the cage and lock it tight with your back against the door, or else it would shake itself loose and you would just end up running really fast... towards no particular direction at all?

where you just want FREEDOM

today has definitely been one of those days. more like.... this YEAR has been one of those YEARS. the last thing i want to see in front of me is a metal mesh cup full of highlighters and sharpies, a pile of post-its with to-do lists, a desk phone that neverrrrr stops blinking and men in stiff business suits and ties...

[someone please rescuuuuuue me!!!]

i'm all too often tempted to push these images over... convinced they are made of cardboard and are utterly and completely fake ...and this was all a [very] cruel joke.

..like the last thing you want to be doing with your life is what you ARE doing with your life?

the realization that dawned in mid-woe was this: i was not made for this.

seriously. i was not created to sit behind a desk, answer phones, typetypetypetyppeee for 8hrs a day... 40 hrs a week... 2080hrs a year (that's a total of 86.67 ENTIRE DAYS a year) to make a livinggg so i can survivvvve!!

ok. maybe i'm being a little dramatic....???

but in all REALITY i was made to live in a garden. vibrant and eternal. to know and be known. untainted by sin and brokenness. fully alive. never seeing death. where people saw and walked with God, unashamed of their nakedness.

it's the longing for eden. it's what my heart aches for.