Nog of Egg.

This is my favorite time of year.

Ezra was so excited to decorate the tree this year, and I was too, although part of me was a bit terrified to do it because of the stage that Myer is at... pulling up on stuff and trying to eat everything in his path that is oogey or sharp.

I decided that I would just deal with it as we went, and, wouldn't you know it? He hasn't even so much as glanced at the thing.

ha ha. Isn't that always the way? You stress and stress about something, which usually turns out to be nothing, and the whole time you could have been using all that wasted energy to pour yourself some more eggnog.

By the way, I am proudly and unashamedly in the 'I Love Eggnog' group. Has there ever been such a divisive beverage in the history of all time? In my experience I have found that you either LOVE it, or you HATE it.

I think part of the problem may be the name. NOG? Nog of EGGS? Really?

Why not just call it RottenEggBog?

We need to think up a new name for this delicious drink, and fast.

I think it should be called something like 'Cinnamon Nutmeg Milk'.

Mmmmm. I'll take two.

Prideful Fear.

I switched over from the classic blogger template to the newer version last night and only had about three nervous meltdowns in the process. {Go team me!} I had to recreate this website from scratch in the wee hours of the morning and while I was tweaking it and trying to salvage all those years of shoddy patchwork HTML coding, I just kept thinking of the few of you who might be checking my site at that moment and going blind from the horrendous hodge-podge that smacked you in the face instead of the nice, calming, neutral toned blog you'd come to expect here.

The good news: Now the site is much easier to maintain and also much easier to browse. Oh- and while I'm on clean up duty round these parts, let me know if there's anything else you'd like to see here or any ideas you have that would make this blog better. Things are still a bit wonky in places and will need to be messed with over time, so be patient with me, but please let me know if you see anything that is a little bit (or a LOT bit) 'off'.

Thank'ee kindly!

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Switching gears....  This morning at church I was hit with some gnarly revelations about pride and the fact that when I stew in anxiety and fear and worry, I am saying that I don't trust God and by not trusting God I am saying that I think I can handle things better than He can, and, when it comes down to it,  these things are really just PRIDE all gussied up in sheep's clothing.

5 Likewise, you who are younger, be subject to the elders. Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” 6 Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, 7 casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.

Humility = Casting your cares on HIM.

So... conversely:

Pride = Not casting your cares on Him.

I had never thought about anxiety in that light before. It was like everything suddenly clicked and it made even more sense why I shouldn't go around living in fear of every single little thing the media tells me I should be terrified of. (lookout!!!  behind that tree!! germs! kidnappers! stretch marks!)

I think that a lot of times we believe that our constant anxiety and fear about things that we ultimately can't control make us better somehow.  Almost... righteous.  It becomes almost like this comfort thing... like we find our identity and worth on this earth within that fear rather than God Himself.  They become identity-stealing distractions.

God has been speaking to me so much lately about my roles as a woman and wife and mother and child and I was so blessed this morning to realize that at the root of every fear of mine, there is pride. I love learning how endlessly deep God's Words are when you stop and sink down in them a bit.  It HELPS me to know that this is where some of this stuff is coming from.  It helps me know how to pray (for myself) and find the deep down cause of some of the stuff I worry about all the time.

I want to be ever growing and changing and learning new things about God and his words.  I could learn a new thing about Him every second of every day and still only scratch the surface of all that He is.

I was so glad to be reminded of that this morning- that no matter how long I've known Him and walked with Him and studied His words...

I will never come to the end of Him.

Hallelujah.

Merry Go Round.

We decided to flee from the idea of cooking dinner last night and head out to hit up the park and the local pizza joint by our house instead.

Ezra instantly glommed onto some buddies and took off running.

Eventually they ended up on the merry-go-round and I felt like my heart was on there with him... spinning around and around and laughing. He is such an amazing boy, and I love watching him come into his own and interact with his world.



After our adventures, we stayed up late watching 'Ice Age' on TV. (Ezra kept asking to fast forward through the commercials and couldn't understand why our TV wasn't able to do that while everyone else's could. haha) We all snuggled up tight under one blanket and one roof and giggled at a squirrel who, try as he might, just could not get the nut.

All the while, my heart felt like it was still out there on that merry-go-round... spinning around and around again... getting dizzy from all the sweetness.

Marriage is for MEN.

Not boys.

This video. Oh, this video...





Finally. Someone had the guts to say it.

Beyond Measure.

I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving! Ours was so lovely. Good company, good food, and beautiful weather.

This year, Ezra made something to contribute to the Thanksgiving feast... all by himself! Allow me to introduce you to the "Wobble Gobble":




They looked like turkeys but tasted like... cookiecandyfrosting!
Ezra kept calling them chicken cookies. hahaha.





I am so grateful and blessed to be where I am... in this phenomenal city surrounded by the most amazing people. How am I so lucky to have ended up here? This year, I am exceedingly thankful for my community- the people around me who challenge me and encourage me and cause me to grow... the people who add so much joy to my life and who enrich me beyond measure. Where would I be without them? WHO would I be without them?

I thank God every day for leading us here in this season of our lives.

He is so good to us.

xoxox

My Baby is so Aggressive.

Dear Intrawebs,

Today was one of those days where the thought of waking up tomorrow and doing it all over again (and the day after that and the day after that and the day after that) just about smooshed me.

I love the quote that my friend Su left in the comments here a while back-- something like 'in motherhood the days are long and the years are short'.

SO SO TRUE.

The baby! The sweet baby! He is turning into a monkey booger.

Yes, YOU.

He has taken to slapping me and pulling my hair and scratching at my nose and eyes! Like... he's super aggressive. A tiny baby bully! He has figured out that the hairs right at the temple hurt the worst, and he goes for them every time. He also likes to bite the tender muscles between my shoulders and my neck.

Rawr!

Luckily, he is almost equally as adamant about snuggling and rubbing his head against my face and neck to show me he adores me.

If I didn't have that symbol of affection to cling to lately, I might be tempted to think the baby does not like me.

Huwgs?

Ezra was NEVER aggressive like this in any way, shape, or form.

Do any of you have experiences with babies like this? I'm somewhat baffled. How do I teach a baby to be gentle? Or do I just roll with it? We try so hard to speak gently, and demonstrate what 'gentle' looks like, but he just smirks and lunges towards our eyes with his kung fu baby knife nails. I'm sure this will all fade with time and more developed communications skills, but...


*poke*poke*scratch*pokepoke*scritch*pokepokepoke*poke*

... I'm at my wit's end. This is all so foreign to me. I thought some of you might have some pointers or similar stories. If you do, please let me know!

I am tired and all scuffed up and in need of some advice.


Sincerely,

The Baby's Punching Bag

It's Not Rocket Science.

We have a super fun science museum here in oklahoma city, and I need to make it a point to go there more often. Ezra is at the perfect age for it now. On Saturday, we loaded up the kids and headed down there, per Ezra's request, and we all ended up having SO much fun. I think Chris & I ended up playing harder than the boys did.

I MADE this:

(Don't act like you're not impressed.)



This is my husband...
...standing inside of a science museum!


At one point a spooky little gremlin popped out of nowhere and was photographed with my baby:
eeeee hee hee heeeeee! Where's me pot o' gold?


Myer got warrior paint.
Because he's our little stout-hearted warrior muffin.



OMG! The bubble was there and then it... it just... wasn't anymore!
(Also: HOT HANDS? Whaaa?)



And our Ezzie Bug...
...the little astronaut that could.


Hooray, Science Museum!

What are some of YOUR favorite "Family Day" getaways?

A Sweet Night.

I had so much fun at the Cuppies & Joe show last night! I was so nervous because I didn't get a whole lot of time to practice beforehand, but it all went smoothly. (I didn't even fall down on my face or spill anyone's coffee all over their lap! That's miraculous!)

Here's a short clip of one of the songs I played:



A little rough around the edges, but I'm pretty sure that the sweet CUPCAKES floating around the place made up for all the sour notes I hit.

Mwar har.

Happy Saturday!

Through the Eyes of Babies.

The other day, this happened:

"Oh, Ezra, this is so comfy and relaxing."

And then this:

"What the HUH?!?"

This picture got me thinking... Yawns must look really strange to babies.

I bet a lot of things we do look really strange to babies.

Of all the things, though, I bet sneezing is THE WEIRDEST.

haha.

*******************************

In other news:
If you live in the OKC area, you should totally come see Shannon Horn & I play tonight at Cuppies & Joe around 8pm! It is going to be so cozy and lovely and... there will be cupcakes to nom on! And hot coffee to sip! Hooray!!


*******************************

Wait Loss.

The other morning, both boys woke up super early- around 6:00- and they were raring to start their day before my eyes had even been propped open by my morning coffee. (The audacity!)

I sat on my couch in a daze as I do every other morning and turned on some cartoons and made Myer a bottle.

After a short while of lazing about and bumping into things that never move, I noticed a warm glow hovering in my living room. I glanced out the window and saw the most violently shocking slash of hot pink and orange ripping across the sky above my house.

The sunrise.

It was so brilliantly beautiful that it sucked the air right out of my lungs. Before I even had a chance to inhale again, I was rounding up the boys and locating shoes and jackets in the dark and herding us all out the front door. We tumbled out into the cold kindling morning, feeling the burn of the chilled air in our lungs, and headed due east.

There is an empty field on the backside of our neighborhood, and we trekked towards it. We stood at it's edge in the dark and looked up at the gaudy display of love above our heads. It was already very much faded from the moment I saw it through the living room window... like the effort of such a neon burst had worn it thin and quickly burned up its reserves. I breathed deep, thanked God for making the sky, and reassured Ezra that our couch was not far away. (He was saying that his legs didn't feel like walking anymore.)



This sunrise got me thinking about the whole season of Advent that is coming upon us once again. The season of waiting for the coming light. And the thing I kept thinking about was how much of God is tucked away behind the veil of waiting.

We, as a culture today, completely SUCK at waiting. And I, among all who walk the earth today, am THE WORST at it.

Somewhere between the status updates and the twitter burps and the entire internet fitting snugly in out pocketses, we have lost the art of waiting. Lost it all gone. (Wait Loss!) I was realizing, as I thought upon that sunrise later, that I serve a God who refuses to cheapen Himself in such a way... a God who absolutely will not reveal large parts of Himself to me until I learn to know Him as wait worthy. There is no refresh button on Him. No hurrying things along. Only through patient seeking will I truly begin to know Him.

Oh poop, I am SO bad at this.

However, in the times that I have been forced to wait, or the rare instances where I found the discipline to do so, I have always been immeasurably blessed. I think even of LAST advent, when I felt my unborn son stretching against my tight skin. He was worth the wait! Or I think of the time that I took a step of faith and waited for God to rescue me from depression without running straight to the medication that was being held out to me. He met me there! He healed me! I think also of my husband, who would not be playing guitar on the other side of this living room right now if I had not waited for God's promise even when I couldn't see it through the smothering pain.

Oh, He is SO worthy of wait. He can be trusted with that invested time. He will never disappoint. He is Faithful and Good and we will never wait in vain. Never never no never ever. We will NEVER wait in vain.

My prayer for myself during this Advent season is that I would learn to trust Him enough to wait on Him in full expectancy, in full hope, and (yes!) in full joy... knowing that He will meet me there every. single. time.

The Home of Your Youth.

There was a moment today, when I was sitting in Myer's room in the dark, feeding him his bottle before his afternoon nap, when I realized something profound.

It hit me when I heard Ezra's happy steps skip-running up and down the hallway in front of Myer's bedroom door. He was getting all his afternoon toys set up to play with in his room (we had just returned from picking him up from school) and he was singing to himself- collecting everything he needed from the other parts of the house in order to make his life complete.

I realized that this is the only home Ezra has ever known. And he adores it.

Suddenly, while snuggling Myer there in the dark, I was hit with a flood of memories. This is how it works for me. There is absolutely no way that I can recall memories when I want to or when I try to but every once in a great while, the memories will find me. They will search me out and pour over me like warm liquid.

My heart was gripped with the memory of my own childhood home. To me, back then, it was like heaven on earth. The only home I'd known. My childhood eyes saw nothing of chipped paint or those persistent leaks that appeared with every torrential rain. They saw only the cozy nooks that were perfect for reading books on lazy afternoons. They saw the big rock out front with its emery-shaped hollow that was seemingly scooped out of the stone just for me to rest in while waiting for the bus every morning. They saw the joys of leaping from the top deck when the snow drifts built high enough. They saw how the roof of the shed out back angled you perfectly to see the mountains and stars when you sprawled out on your back at dusk.

home, then.

While I sat in my own home this afternoon, it was like my mind was suddenly re-filled with images of every fort, trail, and tree that I had loved as a little girl. And before I could pull my mind back to reality, I realized that I had hot tears running down my face. It felt like I'd been reunited unexpectedly with a loved one... a part of myself that I was missing and desperately longing to see again without even knowing it.

The beautiful part of all of this was not that I got to remember my own home, but that I came to understand that my son feels the exact same way about the little house we are in now. He has his routines and quirks when he is at home and now I am so blessed to realize how precious and comforting and life-giving this place has become to him. I think it takes a few years for a house to REALLY feel like a home... where you are comfortable and at peace with every inch of the place because you've all tweaked it and twisted it until it fit you and your family just so.

I love how Ezra bursts through the door when we get home from being somewhere and starts shedding things in specific places. Shoes in the living room, coats on his bed, and backpack by the couch if he's got it. He spreads toys strategically around on the living room furniture- lately just out of reach of a certain grabby baby's hands. He gets a cup from the drawer and fills it with ice and water from the fridge. He likes to play in the front part of the house in the morning, and in the back part of the house in the afternoon. I think it's a sun thing. He seems to follow the warmth that comes through the windows.

home, now.

It's so strange to realize that my house has become that for someone... a refuge for a small boy who will grow into a man and treasure the memories of this hallway or this kitchen like they are a buoy that his youthful heart can tether to.

Who can be bothered to care too greatly about chipped paint or scratched floors with such a knowledge as that in their head? Heart-floating memories are being made! Stop and enjoy them! Stop and join in! It seems like no one is happy with where they are at anymore. The phrase "oh, it's just a starter home" grates on my nerves like almost nothing else.

A home can be made from any place... it just needs a grateful, content heart as the hearth- one that is not too preoccupied with what is wrong, but rather, what is right.

Mouths Like Trumpets.

On Friday night, my husband played a show. It was so amazing, it was fantasmagorical. While he was up there on stage, crafting the most beautiful and soothing (read: badass) music I've ever heard, I was struck with the sudden realization that, hey! I GET TO BE HIS WIFE. Yay!!!

(photos stolen from my facebook friends. mwahaha.)

Later, I had the privledge of singing with Brad and the crew for his CD Release Show. If you don't already have Brad Kilman's new album, "Mouths Like Trumpets", you need to hunt it down. Here, let me help you:

CLICKY MY FACE.

Bam! Hunted.

It was such a great night of music and worship.

As for today, we are all feeling a bit under the weather. We have the sniffles. So, this is the agenda for today:



-pillow forts
-sesame street
-soothing mid-morning bath for the boys
-humidifiers
-big fat naps. for us all.


I get to work tonight, which is happy happy joy joy and will help preserve my sanity.

Another thing that helps to preserve my sanity:


...this ginormous goofy grin. Oh, I just want to nom it up with a side of biscuits and green beans. He is delish.

The Working Closet.

FYI: This month I have been participating in the 30 Day Challenge over at The Working Closet on Flickr. Basically, you take a photo of your outfit every day this month and post it to the group. It is so fun to see what everyone is wearing, and to get inspired as well!

(It's like a month long version of our Fall Fashion Photo Week we did recently.)

Check it out... it's not too late to join in the fun!!!

:)

The Here and Now.

myer.

He is almost 10 months old (lalalala i can't heeeear you!) and he is cruisin'. He loves to slide stuff around and maneuver it so that he can get from point A to point B without having to drop down on his knees and crawl there. There are three things that make him happy no matter what: eating, walking around on two feet (with a little help of course), and being held. He is SO pleasant, and I KID YOU NOT he is already eating more than Ezra does at mealtimes. Quite a bit more. He is a total brute. His strength is shocking to me at times. Like, when I have to wrestle something that he is not supposed to have out of his hands, it is HARD WORK. Sometimes it takes me a few tries until I can actually get it from him. (I think he could beat me at arm wrestling, is what I am saying.) There are only two foods on the planet that he will not eat: bananas and oatmeal.

Aren't those staple baby food items?

They are the ONLY things he won't eat. hahaha.

He has a checkup on Thursday... I am so curious to see his what his growth stats are.

ezra.

He is the silliest goof-ball on the planet. All pockets of silence and calm are filled to the brim with his goofy made-up-words of nonsense. "Mack-lack-da-poop-jack!" is his current nonsense exclamation of choice. He says it alllll the time. His most favorite thing in life is making people laugh. (That, and his mammoth sized Halloween candy stash on top of the fridge.) He is a sensitive little guy who eats like a bird. Getting him to eat is (and always has been) an all-out battle of wits and wills. He has absolutely NO interest in food. He'd rather be playing or running around saying silly things at the top of his lungs.

He loves school and is so smart. He is getting more handsome by the hour, and I am constantly amazed at his ability to make friends in any situation... and then have those friends all organized and following his lead within the blink of an eye. There is some strong leadership bursting out of this kid, and I'm excited to see what shape and form that will take in the years ahead.


These boys are fantastic. I am so honored and blessed to be their mama.

Anniversary Adventure.

Chris and I were planning on going out for our Anniversary last night, and we'd talked about maybe dinner at the Irish Pub by our house and then possibly a movie? You know... something nice and relaxing and traditional as far as dates go?

sidenote: this is what i wore. I LOVE this vintage dress.

But then, at the last minute, we got a text from Joel saying that the band Owl City was playing an unadvertised show at the OU campus in Norman for FREE, and that the doors were opening in about an hour.

Chris' mom came to watch the kids as planned, we grabbed a granola bar from the cupboard for dinner, and then we raced down to Norman (about 30 minutes away) so that we could get in to the show in time.

We stood in a huge line, piled in to a stinky gymnasium with approximately 6 trillion college students and their 6 trillion iphones, and then we sat. For a looooooooong time.





There was something SO SO eerie and disturbing and downright creepy about seeing all those young faces illuminated by the glow of their mini facebook and twitter pages. I felt like I wanted to run away and live in the wilderness for the rest of my days.

The opening band finally came on and they were... not my favorite.

(hey look! i pulled an accidental Newsom in this shot! yesssss!)

Moving on.

After they played their set, we waited some more. The guy setting up the Owl City gear was moving at the pace of about 1 foot per year, and my legs were going numb from being crammed into the 5 inches of space I was allotted on my gymnasium torture device bench.

Then Owl City came on, and all of my cares and troubles disappeared.

They were SO good.

We had to leave after a few songs so that we could get back to the house and sleeping children at a decent hour, but we left feeling totally inspired and pumped.

We stopped in to a place called 'Fat Sandwich' before we hopped in the car, because it was the only place open and we were FAMISHED.

Joel ate a Chicken Donut. As kind of a joke. But the joke was on him. Because HE ATE A DONUT WITH CHICKEN AND CHEESE INSIDE OF IT.



hahahahhaha.

Chris and I ate a sandwich roll with chicken fingers, mozzarella sticks, gyro meat, and french fries inside of it.



(The joke was also on us.)

UGH. SO gross.

It was an anniversary that I will not forget. Because it was full of adventure and fun and laughter and good music.

Dinner and a movie would not have provided such an evening, I am pretty sure.

Do any of us REALLY enjoy dinner/movie cookie-cutter evenings out like that? I mean, I know we all SAY that we do because we're supposed to say that we do, but does anyone else feel like they are kindof... boring? And wastes of money?

The only time I really enjoy dates like that is when we end up having really really good conversations while we're out. But, when you think of it, fancy restaurants and movie theatres aren't exactly good places to have those great, heartfelt conversations. It's like you have to have those conversations in spite of those places.

I'm thinking I want to have more picnic dates. Or dates where you drive all over town trying to find hot tubs to sneak in to. Or dates where you put a big bottle of wine on your kitchen table and a stack of index cards with really good and important questions on them and you don't get up until both are finished.

Maybe we will make this 'Anniversary Adventure' idea a tradition from now on.

Because, you only live once! Might as well do something that makes you feel like you're actually alive, right?

Right.

Six Years.

When we first met, we were both so young and carefree. I may have only been 17 years old, but I knew that it was real, actual LOVE I felt for you in the moment I saw your cheeks flush when you looked at me and mine flared brightly in return. I knew it when our grins threatened to split our faces in two.

Oh, the journey towards peaceful love was long for us! It was bumpy and ungraceful and full of breathtaking pain. Yet, I could never convince myself to despair completely the loss of you. I would try and get my brain to tell my heart that it was really, truly over at times, but my heart would always respond with a stern and unflinching, "It is just beginning."

I was always too unsure of the future to spend much time daydreaming of it back then... I never really allowed myself to picture what life would be like with you when we shared the same roof or would have children of our own... I didn't want to let my heart go there before our outcome was more clear.

photo by Cameron Ingalls

With hindsight I see that, had I spent time dreaming of our future in those days, it would have done NO justice to the life we have together now. This, where we are now, is better than anything I could have dreamed up, longed for, worked towards, or even allowed myself to hope.

And here I am now, securely safe in your love, and dreaming of the future with you is one of my very favorite things to do!

I know that the best is yet to come, and that thought just floors me. How can we go up from such a high place? Your love is continually teaching me to hope and dream, it is continually making my heart larger and then filling up the new spaces.

Oh, how I love you. Happy Anniversary.