In a parallel universe...

...I would be getting ready to go find out I was having a boy, instead of getting ready to pick our car up from the shop.

...I would be meeting my friend Meghan there, and she would play with and distract Charlie.

...I would be heading to the store to buy this, and putting it in a box with a blue balloon that would float out when opened.

...I would be driving to Tim's office to surprise him with said box.

It was going to be a great day.

Truthfully, I don't always have the holiest outlook on this situation.

Yesterday I sat down with my coffee, looked at Tim and burst into tears, complaining that my "human" summer clothes (read, not maternity) were out of style. He offered to take me shopping for new clothes, and I got even weepier, saying, "But I don't want to wear regular clothes! I want to be pregnant!" Poor guy. He couldn't win.

I wish, much to frequently, for a mulligan. Just a little trek back to a few weeks ago, and everything could go differently.

I continually scold myself for having complained about anything pregnancy related, and for worrying about logistics instead of enjoying the life within me.

Grieving is an unpredictable process, one I sometimes handle with grace, and other times with petty selfishness and whining.

If I'm being honest.

There's no real point to this post, just thoughts running through my head, needing an outlet.

Five Months Old!

I can't believe my little lady is 5 months old already! This time last year, I was only getting used to the idea of being pregnant, and now I have this big girl!

Currently Charlie is:

• An observer of all around her. She gets so distracted in social settings, she forgets being hungry or tired and just watches quietly.
• Enjoying exploring all the decibels of her voice. Screaming in such a high pitched tone only dogs can hear is a favorite.
• Rolling over, but only for me. No one else has been given the privilege of seeing this trick.
• Making it clear that her favorite place to sleep is on, or next to, me.
• Wearing pants that are either too short, but fitting at the waist, or to big at the waist, but long enough.
• Chewing on her fingers and pacifier at the same time, all the while talking.
• Mastering the art of pulling a wad of spit up out of her mouth and draping it on me.
• So happy and smiley.
• My favorite.

My Birth Story - a planned C-section

FYI - this includes details of what my C-section felt like and may not be for everyone. I thought it may be helpful to people who are expecting and may have to have one. Consider yourself warned.

We knew early on that a C-section may be necessary to bring Charlotte safely into the world. I found out at my second ultrasound I have a heart shaped uterus - essentially, my uterus is misshaped, causing there to be less room for Charlie to grow and move in. It wasn't severe, so while I was labelled "high risk", the odds of her suffering from it were very low. But, it did mean that once she settled into her upright position, she probably wasn't going to be turning around any time soon. Or, as it turns out, at all. She was completely breach, with her upper body in one side, or horn, of my uterus, and her legs in the other. So, with many many many ultrasounds performed to check for unbreaching (for lack of a better word), we planned for a C-section on September 29th (my doctor was leaving for Italy that night, so she fit us in when I was 39 weeks exactly).

The week prior to her coming, Tim and I frantically tried to get everything ready. The night before we were vacuuming, organizing, packing, etc. We ended up staying up really late, despite the fact that we had to be at the hospital at 5:30 the next morning. When we woke up the morning of, (around 4:30), I showered, put on mascara (so necessary before surgery), dressed in yoga pants and my "I'm so crafty, I make people" t-shirt, and headed out the door with our empty car seat and jam packed diaper bag. I felt vaguely anxious, but the coming surgery, and ultimately the arrival of this little baby we'd been loving, and praying for, for so long seemed somewhat abstract. We got to the hospital, then drove around for awhile to find the birthing center. Once we got in, I changed into the hospital gown, got my IV, had blood drawn, a last ultrasound to confirm she was still breach, and then was checked for contractions, which, it so happens, I was having. I had just thought she was moving around a lot, so I was surprised to hear that. Then, my doctor came in, looking like a model despite her scrubs and pumas in place of her usual designer clothes. (I won't lie, as I got increasingly rounder and my wardrobe got more limited, I also was increasingly more jealous of her tiny body and adorable clothing.)

They took Tim and me to the C-section room and introduced me to the anesthesiologist. He then proceeded with the spinal block, starting with a shot to numb me (PS - this isn't bad. And I hate shots.) then the block itself. It felt warm, and similar to yolk or, I now know, spit up, running down my back. Then I was numb. Beyond numb, I couldn't have moved the lower half of my body if my life depended on it. I was told that the second I felt any nausea I had to tell him so he could give me something to stop it. That's when the shakes came in. Ugh. Some people experience shaking from the spinal block, and I was one of the lucky ones. I was shuddering violently, and felt extremely cold. In the meantime, they had laid me down and were prepping for the incision.

My wonderful doctor kept me informed of everything that was going on, so I knew when the surgery started. Nausea came immediately, and I was given drugs through my IV to help. Tim was alternating between trying to calm me down - the shaking was really upsetting me - and watching what was happening, when he suddenly got sick. He says it was the smell of the iodine, not the blood and guts, but either way, he was throwing up. I started feeling a lot of pressure - no pain - but pushing and pulling, and the intensity of it made me sick. The anesthesiologist gave me a bed pan and I dry heaved into it for a while. Then, suddenly we were told to look up, and above the little curtain separating the whole me from the cut up me were two purple little feet, and then a piercing wail. I immediately teared up, knowing that Charlie was here, and I was listening to the world's most beautiful cry. I was handed a wad of gauze to wipe my face with, and then Tim was told to go with the nurse to the corner of the room where they cleaned Charlie and swaddled her.

In the meantime, I was feeling very faint, and very sick. It took less time for them to get Charlie out then it did to put me back together. I could feel every tug and shove as, I can only assume, my insides were rearranged, and I was eventually sutchered together (I was scared of staples, so my doctor opted for sutchers). In the midst of this, Tim brought Charlotte to me. It was a strange moment for me. I think it must be true that the act of labor helps you bond with your child, because when he brought her to me, I thought, "I don't recognize her." She wasn't what I'd imagined and it threw me for a loop. Not to say I didn't love her, or think she was amazing, I just didn't expect her to have dark hair, no eyebrows, and her lower lip firmly tucked under her upper lip. It doesn't help that I was exhausted in every way at this point, and very close to passing out.

Finally they finished with me and wheeled me (on the bed, I don't remember how I got there) back to my room. My dad and mother in law were in there, stocking it with snacks, so they got to meet Charlie briefly and learn her name. I still hadn't held her, due to the shaking, and was eager to breast feed her, so they were shooed out pretty quickly. She was given a quick sponge bath, and shots, and then given to me to feed. That was when the bond formed for me. She latched quickly and wonderfully, and then fell asleep in my arms. The things I thought were odd when I first saw her weren't any more. Brown hair because her dad has brown hair. No eyebrows because I have fair pale eyebrows. Her lower lip had been hidden because she had been sucking on it, something she still does. She was beautiful, perfect, and mine.

I won't tell you my hospital experience, because it was, in many ways, really terrible and no one has that kind of time to commit to reading a blog. But, to finish the story of the C-section...because of the spinal block combined with my inability to move, they put compression sleeves on my legs, that squeezed them continually to keep blood clots from forming, 12 hours after my c-section (7:30 pm) they made me get up. I was not given the drugs I had been told I would get, so this experience was extremely difficult, and so painful the wind was knocked out of me. I fell back to my bed three times. My recovery was slower than I had anticipated, it took several weeks for me to get up or down without wincing. Thank goodness Tim was off work for two week and could do a lot of the physical work. By six weeks I was back to normal, only experiencing the smallest pangs now and then, just above my incision.

So, the moral of the story is:

C-sections are rough. If I don't have to have one for any future children, I won't. But, remember, if you do have to have one, they are the most commonly performed surgery for women in America, and though uncomfortable, they are extremely safe and relatively quick.

If you don't bond immediately with your baby, don't panic, don't feel guilty, just give it a little time. You will be more bonded, connected, and in love with your baby than you could ever have imagined so soon.

Utilize your spouse to help. Bending is not an option after a C-section, so Tim changed every single diaper for at least a week. He also did all the burping, and was on crib duty, checking on her every sound.

No matter the means you have to go through to bring your baby into this world, it's so worth it. Charlotte has brought us so much joy, I can't imagine my life without her.

A Girl, A Baby and A Pile of Laundry

Someone recently asked me what my day looks like now that there is a baby in the picture. I didn't really know how to answer. I feel constantly busy, watching my to-do list grow exponentially by the second, trying to balance what the baby needs, what the house needs, what the husband needs and what I need on an incredibly unstable schedule. That said, I wouldn't have it any other way.
Today, so far, has consisted of:
1 am - feeding the tiny. This is crazy unusual, only the second time she's woken in the night since she was 8 weeks old (Yes, I do realize how blessed I am.)
1:30 am - both of us back to bed.
6:45 am - sleepily kiss the husby goodbye.
7:45 am - feed the tiny (while watching DVR'ed American Idol). Most of the time she goes back down after this feeding for a few hours, during which I am free to go back down also, or to do whatever I can in that time, IE - shower, dress, tidy, what have you. But, generally I go to sleep or read my google reader blogs, check facebook, e-mail and etsy.
8:30 am - put the tiny down for nap #1. This is the only nap that she agrees to most days, but it's a good long one. It should last until about 11, if I'm lucky.
8:40 am - coffee, my dear friend, and a trip to the mailbox to send of a sweet necklace to a sweet customer. I added a little something to this necklace, so I was extra happy with it as I put it in the mail slot.
8:50 am - here we are. Blogging rather that showering. What are you going to do.
The rest of my day will consist roughly of something like this:
9:00 - fold the bitty laundry and put it away (hers is the only laundry I like doing - her stuff is soooo cute!)
9:45 - start some grown up laundry
10ish - dress myself, tidy a bit
11ish - change the laundry, feed the tiny, change her, dress her, play like crazy
12:30 - think about lunch
1:00 - attempt to put the baby down for another nap, change the laundry
1:15 - give up and rock her to sleep
1:30- ease her into her crib and pray it sticks, change the laundry
2:15- feed the tiny, watching Gilmore Girls
2:45- change the baby, play some more, work on rolling
4:30- fold and put away laundry, start prepping baby for nap #3
5:00- seize the 15 minute window I have of definite napping, find some dinner (husby is working tonight, so I don't actually have to make anything)
5:15- eat while bouncing fussy baby (teething has made the evening rough lately)
5:30- feed and change the baby, play
6:30- give up on crib naps and let baby sleep in my arms
7:00- change the baby into jammies, or run a bath, depending on how dirty she's gotten herself today
8:00- feed one more time and start the bedtime attempts (let's say it works on the first time)
8:30- watch TV and wait for hubs to get home
Between 10 and 11- hit the hay and start again tomorrow

This is my rough plan, but odds are today will wind up looking extremely different. I know I'm going to enjoy it though. This girl is an absolute delight.

17 weeks old

Erin's Favorite Things

Though not nearly as exciting as Oprah's, here are some of my favorite baby discoveries so far:

Halo Sleep Sacks - we have two of these, and they make bedtime peace of mind that much easier to attain. I know that Charlie is unable to pull any blankets over her head, and that the cozy fleece will keep her warm when Seattle nights are cold.

NUK pacifiers. We've tried MAM and Gerber, but NUK is the clear winner. She can keep it in her mouth, it doesn't gag her, and she won't leave home without it (or she "lectures" me the whole time we're out if we do.)

Infantino Twist and Fold Gym in neutral. I LOVE this thing. It's brightly colored animals entertain Charlie for hours, allowing me to do laundry, knit, read, or do anything that requires two hands. It will be a sad day when she outgrows this charming little floor gym.

Munchkin Arm and Hammer Disposable Bags and Dispenser. A friend brought this to us when she came to meet Charlie the day after she was born. These puppies are lifesavers, disguising the disgusto-smell of dirty diapers with a pleasant baking soda based scent. Since most places (including the doctor's office) don't appreciate you leaving stinky diapers in their trash cans, these can make the task of taking them with you much more pleasant.

Sony Baby Call Monitor. As paranoid new parents who hadn't been told that babies breathing patterns can be terrifyingly inconsistent, we bought these monitors after a trip to the ER. Did you know babies can stop breathing for up to 10 seconds and it's normal? Neither did we...till the nice ER doctor told us. (By the way, when in doubt, definitely utilize a nurse consulting line, your pediatrician or the ER - peace of mind is so worth it.) Anyway, now we can hear all of her strange sleep sounds and over time have learned which one's warrant checking on, and which are just throat clearings.

Nail clippers with file. Oh poor Charlie's fingertips. So brutalized by nail clippers alone. Now I use clippers to trim a bit and the file to get them as short as I need...files can't cut jerky fingers like clippers can.

Trumpettetoo socks. These stay on! Hip hip hooray! Plus, so adorable.

Baby Jogger City Mini Stroller. Best stroller ever. One handed maneuverability, plus one handed fold, and-wait for it-17 pounds. Yeah, I know. Amazing.

So, that's it so far, I'm sure there will be many more favorite things to come. What are your favorite things?

Charlotte - 3 months

Laura had a end of holidays brunch, which resulted in an impromptu photo shoot. Such sweet pictures!

In three months I've learned:

Books can't teach you everything

I'll do just about anything to get a tiny laugh

Three outfits in a day may not be enough (for either of us)

All diapers are not created equal

Napping with Charlotte is delightful

Floor gyms are underrated - it's a daily necessity for us

Tummy time and tub time are tricky to pull off

It's possible to miss her even if she's just taking a nap

She's the most amazing thing ever

Dreaming...

Now that I'm so advanced in my pregnancy (15 days to go!), I'm starting to day dream about things I can do after the baby comes. I've been letting Tim know the meals I'd like to eat so he can make sure he knows how to make them. :)

I miss egg yolk. Like you wouldn't believe. I had no idea this would be the item that I wanted the most, but I have made Tim swear that the first meal I have will be a perfectly poached egg on toast with asparagus, prosciutto and feta cheese. My mouth is watering. Yum.
I'm also missing my clothes. Maternity clothes were fun for awhile, but how many times can you wear the same 5 outfits before you are just plain bored?

I'm most looking forward to wearing:

My suede boots! Yes, they fit, but walking with any extra height is an extremely dangerous game when 1) you're clumsy to start with; and 2) you're pregnant

My leather motorcycle jacket...so pretty, so soft, so small...
My favorite jeans ever.
My pretty detailed tops.

As well as so many others...oh clothes (and egg yolk). How I miss you.
(All the clothes are of the recently deceased Martin + Osa variety. Hence, no links.)

Things I Didn't Expect About Pregnancy

Pregnancy has not been exactly what I expected...here's the things that have surprised me:

1. My belly is heavy

In retrospect, this should have been a given. But, I am constantly surprised at how bulky this belly is.

2. and yet, I forget that it's there

Even 31 weeks in, in my minds eye I still see myself with my old body. So, when I try to make room for you to pass me in the Costco aisle, or, worse, a doorway, forgive me if I don't actually succeed. I've temporarily forgotten about the basketball that is protruding from my middle.

3. No more sleeping through the night

I remember when Tim and I were talking about the possibility of getting pregnant, we talked about all the things we could do in the 9 months leading up to it. One of those things I expected to be able to do was sleep. Surprise! Not gonna happen! Whether it's my brain staying up to make lists of things to get done, or the four bathroom runs, or nightmares that keep me scared of shutting my eyes, or leg cramps that feel like my calves are in labor, or just plain not sleeping, I haven't had a full nights sleep in months.

4. Goodbye coordination

Evidently, the way that our bodies compensate for the extreme growth is by loosening our ligaments. This is evident in the fact that anything that I have in my hands will soon be on the floor. It takes all my concentration not to drop everything I come in contact with - a comfort to the mom's who drop their little ones off in the nursery with me on Sunday, I'm sure*

5. Hello grossness

So, maybe no one ever told you that pregnancy = drool. Or, pregnancy = bloody noses. For whatever reason, pregnant women get waaaay to much saliva, resulting is St. Bernard style grossness. Thankfully, I only experience this at night, so my pillow gets the worst of it. But, pregnant women be warned - you may want to invest in a plastic pillow case. Then there's the nose...you know how you hear about swollen ankles as a pregnancy side effect? That's not the only thing that swells. So does the inside of your nose, resulting in at least one bloody nose a day.

6. Crying over bread

One fine Saturday morning, Tim went off to play Halo with Ryan, and I stayed home to bask in nothingness. Eventually, nothingness gave way to hunger and I started dreaming of a sandwich stacked high with cheddar cheese, mustard, salt and pepper. Thankful that Tim had bought flatbread rounds the day before, I headed down to make my sandwich. I pulled out the cheese, the mustard, the salt and the pepper, but the bread was conspicuously missing. After searching the kitchen with an increasing sense of panic, I called Tim, forced my voice to be calm, and ask him if he knew where he'd put the bread. Turns out, sweet boy that he is, he'd brought it to Ryan's to make an egg sandwich for everyone. Well, as irrational as it was, seeing as how there was a different loaf of bread right behind me, I quickly got off the phone and burst into tears. For 20 minutes. Sobbed. Then I splashed my face and used the other bread. Thank goodness that's been my only irrational melt down to this point.

7. Surrealism

While a lot of pregnancy is in your face and hard to ignore, the one thing that's pretty quiet for the first several months is the actual baby behind it all. Even after hearing her heartbeat and seeing her little form wiggling on the ultrasound, none of it was real until I felt her move.



7. The strength of the bond

As soon as I felt her move, she became mine. (Yes, she was already mine, but it solidified the connection that I was trying to find in tiny pictures and super speed heartbeats.) I don't know how to explain, but once you feel that little karate chop, everything changes. Even when she's all up in your ribs, or rearranging your essential organs (which I swear she does), it's magical. But my favorite of all is when she tickles me. I literally feel her little hand opening and closing against my belly, and oh man, does it make me laugh.



8. Not getting sick

Of all the symptoms I expected to experience, not having morning sickness was not among them. But, this sweet little thing seemed to do just fine without causing her momma to be sick. A sign of things to come, I hope.

9. The joy that the daddy experiences

It's been amazing to watch Tim grow attached to this little one. In some ways, though he doesn't have the backstage pass I have, I think he's more in love with her than I am. When he heard the heart beat, he gasped. When he saw her on the ultrasounds, his eyes lit up and he smiled like I've never seen him smile before. He was so excited to find out she was a girl, he took me out to dinner, then baby shopping to celebrate (where he immediately told the waitress and the lady in the checkout line that we were having a girl). But the best is when he talks to her, in the sweetest little voice. He tells her that he's her daddy, first and foremost, then just chats, while she wiggles around. She's already got him wrapped around a finger we haven't even seen.

10. The renewed understanding of Divine Design

I think that the clearest argument against survival of the fittest is pregnancy. It is clear, within weeks of becoming pregnant, your body is not your own. Your body will deprive itself of essential nutrients to ensure that this baby gets everything it needs to grow and thrive. Your organs will move from their natural positioning to make way for this little being you're hosting. Your body will tell you what you need to be eating to support this child. And your brain (at least mine did) will change gears from looking out for #1 to looking out for this person you've never met at all costs. Not only is your body no longer your own, your life is no longer your own. You are so intimately linked to this child that you will sacrifice anything for it. Due to some potential complications, I was told early on that a C-section may be necessary. Is it ideal? No, but if it gets this little girl here safely, bring it on. I was trying to explain to someone why I'm so unconcerned about the possibility of an inevitable C-section, and the only way I could express how willing I am to sacrifice myself for her was to say, "If the doctor told me I had to have a leg taken off to get her out safely, I would say, 'That sucks. Which leg? Let's do it.'" The process of pregnancy has renewed my understanding of God's design. It is so evident that He is the one knitting her together in my womb, that He has created our bodies with the ability to warp and change to bring her safely into this world. And Tim and I have been charged with the task to bring her up to follow and love Him...something that I find totally humbling and intimidating.

So, that, in a nutshell, is my unexpected pregnancy experience.

*Just to be clear, this was a bit of a joke. I have never dropped a child. I fell holding one once, but she was fine (I was not so much) and that was completely unrelated to pregnancy, totally related to the fire truck on the floor.

The Next Great American Novel

It's about time for another amazing, history changing, best selling, page turning novel. And I'm going to write it.

I have a fool proof game plan. I've read, studied, poured over recent successful plot lines and discovered what we're missing:

Vampires VS. Dragons*

To my knowledge, this has not been done, and in my humble opinion, the world is worse for it.

The premise, I think it's pretty clear, is a battle between vampires and dragons. No longer will the world have to wonder which is the superior mythical creature! All will be answered!

The characters will consist of:

Several vampires - the names I have so far are:
Smedward
Smella
Smackula

Several dragons - the names I have so far:
Daphira
Duff the Dagic

A token witch and wizard:
Larry Lotter
Lermione Langer

Some small hairy footed human-like creatures:
Prodo Paggins
Pamwise Pamgee

Miscellaneous villians (because a battle between vampires and dragons can't all be fun and games):
Tollum (also known as Teagol)
Tord Toldemort
Tick-ed Tepmothers
Teddy Trueger

So, that's what I've come up with so far, I think it's pretty solid. As always, I'm open to suggestions (good ones may earn you the dedication page, really good ones, a mention when I accept my multiple awards.)

*if this is successful (which I know in my heart of hearts, it will be) I will follow up with such sequels as:
Vampires VS. Aliens
Dragons VS. Aliens
Vampires and Dragons VS. Aliens (those aliens are tough)
Vampires VS. Sea Monsters
Dragons VS. The Yeti
etc.

I Saw a Leaf Fall to the Ground Today...

Last year on this day I quoted a poem by a beloved professor of mine. I think it's worth reposting today.

I saw a leaf fall to the ground today.

For an entire season it had clung proudly to its place, gleaming brightly in the summer sun. It had felt its usefulness and beauty. But when embraced to Autumn's cold breast, its beauty faded; it became shriveled and sere. Still, it clung tenaciously to its accustomed spot on the branch. After much urging by a gentle wind, it wavered between its desire to remain with the known, and the desire to experience teh unknown. Finally, it embarked on its new adventure, and sailed happily with the breeze and gently fluttered to join many of its cold companions, and to meet many of a brighter hue. When it came to rest, I think I heard it release a sigh of contentment.

I am now in the summer of my life - enjoying my place, feeling of some use and service. When the late Autumn of my life comes, I think I shall be like that leaf I saw fall today. Certainly, I shall hesitate to leave the accustomed. But I know that once the great adventure is begun, I shall sail into eternal contentment.

You who see the leaf of my life fade and fall; Do not mistake that final breath as a groan. It will be a joyful sigh of release into the hands of my Great God, Creator and Savior.

CW Smith - November 14, 1972

Today marks three years since my mom went home. I'm so excited for the day we're reuinited.

Three Years Ago Today...

...was the last time I spoke with my mom. Today is my parents anniversary - I believe it would be their 33rd. At this point we knew that she was dying, although the doctors had given us hope that she would be with us for a few more months. Tim and I headed down to Kent after work that day to drop off an anniversary gift - tulips, See The Morning CD by Chris Tomlin, and Lady in the Water by M Night Shymalan. Tim (the other Tim) and Chie had cooked dinner for my parents and when we came in they were eating in the dining room. Mom seemed to be doing really well that day. She was walking, talking, even eating a small amount - something that had been getting more and more difficult. We stayed only briefly, wanting them to have time together, and headed out. Three days later she went Home. By the time I got to her she was unresponsive. The whole family was there, which could have only been by the hand of God, and we held her hands and tried to comfort her until she was with Him.


I really miss her. The silliest things set me off, like not being able to remember a recipe at the grocery store and knowing that she'd be able to tell me what to get if I could just call her. I know that she's finally well, and happier than I can imagine, and that we will one day be reunited, but it's hard. I still cry myself to sleep every so often, but the pain is becoming less sharp, and I know it will continue to lessen as the days go on.


I apologize that my first post is ages is so unhappy, but that's just what I'm feeling right now, and this seemed like as good a place as any to get my thoughts out. Signing out.

How to Ruin Everything for Everyone

So, maybe I'm a bit dramatic. But you'll see why.

Last night Tim and I decided to go on a date. So, being the big spenders we are, we headed to the local Sticky Foot Theater, dolled out $3 each, and went to see The Informant. While we were paying, a middle aged couple behind us were trying to decide which movie to see again. It seems they'd already seen all of them, but were lacking anything else to do. Then, Tim and I were heading for the theater, and they started talking about just following us to the appropriate theater. (Mind you, they were about 200 feet behind us, so notice they were not quiet or discreet type people. See what's coming?) Tim and I enter the theater and see two people in the back row. All the other seats were empty. Repeat: ALL the other seats were EMPTY. We chose seats about 5 rows back, toward the left side. Enter loud followers. They see the theater now has 4 people in it, with about 40 empty seats, and beeline to the seats directly behind us and one seat over. At this point, they were on my radar. (I have strict rules about movie theater etiquette. Stricter when the theater is virtually empty. There's no one there to absorb the sounds!) The couple gabs in pseudo stage whispers until the lights dim, and previews begin. "Whew," I thought. "At least they'll be quiet now." Riiiiight. They proceed to talk through the previews in voices slightly quieter than yelling. Once the movie started (remember, I'm fairly confident they'd already seen it, so didn't feel the need to pay strict attention) I foolishly thought they'd notice other people were there and quiet down. After about 10 minutes of incessant talk I turned and did one of those "Seriously? Shut it!" stares. The talking turned to whispers briefly. Then gradually increased in volume. I tried valiantly to ignore this. Then the Mr. of the couple decided to start kicking the back of the seat. What? I pointedly leaned forward and cast another glare in their direction. Then, as the movie was drawing to an end, they started discussing what was going to happen. I turned to Tim, and said, "Seriously?!" and he turned around and said loudly, "We're still watching this."
Silly me to think that they would be abashed by this and shut up. They talked through the remainder of the movie and were still seated talking when the lights came up.

Moral of the story:
If this is you - save everyone around you some grief and go to a coffee shop! Don't ruin everyone else's experience. Just don't. And, if the theater is empty - leave some space between you and the next guy. There's room to spare!

And if you're wondering if the movie was any good, I couldn't tell you. I was so angry by the end that I assume it was terrible, but I think that's just transference on my part.

I'm still mad. Can you tell?

Wishing...

It's another wet dreary day. I wish that I could be wearing pajamas, wrapped in a blanket, sitting by a roaring fire, drinking hot cocoa reading a book. A really good book. Like Pride and Prejudice or something equally wonderful (Harry Potter is another contender ;) ). Then I would be warm and snuggly all the way through, and the reading would turn into a nap and I would wake up warm and rested and comfy. That's what I would like to be doing right now. Yep.

Thoughts on Grief

A dear friend of mine just lost her brother unexpectedly. I remember a time when I wouldn't have been able to relate to this, but in the past (almost) three years I've come to know the weight of grief, how it gnaws at your thoughts and your stomach simeltaneously, how it strikes when you're least expecting, and how you never truly get over it. The world wants us to cope. Just pretend nothing is wrong for as long as you can, and then do whatever you need to to "deal" with the pain.

As believers we have an option so much better than coping. We can hope. We understand a little bit about the grace of God. We know that His hand is in this. He's orchestrated the whole event, for reasons we can't understand, to ends we can't understand. We find hope in the assurance of salvation, the promise of Heaven - a land infinitely better than anything we can imagine, and in knowing that death is not the end.

It seems like almost instantly after my mom went Home I panicked over what our relationship would be in Heaven. I was terrified (this sounds horrible, but understand the state I was in) that when we arrive in Heaven we're so captivated by Jesus that we don't care about who's around us. I followed this line of reasoning to the determination that if this is true, then essentially I would never see my mom again. That, although we would be sharing the same Home, we wouldn't be interested in each other. This was a thought I couldn't bear. So, I began my research. I pulled out my heavy concordance and searched the Scriptures for references to Heaven. I read parts of Randy Alcorn's book, Heaven. One of my mom's friends had sent it to her a few weeks before she passed. And I found comfort. Scripture does point to relationships in Heaven. Yes, we will be captivated by Jesus, naturally, but it is a citizenship. A world that will work similar to ours, but perfected. Looking at the garden of Eden, the world the way God intended, a world without sin, there was communion between God and man and communion between man and man. My biggest fear has been alleviated by studying God's Word, and the works of men who follow Him.

Another thing I came to realize was that my mom's death was not about me. I wandered for a time thinking, "Why did I have to lose my mom?" It took me a longer amount of time that I would like to admit to recognize that this wasn't done to punish me or something of that sort. Yes, as a bi-product I was affected completely. And I don't mean to say that God didn't/doesn't intend to teach me through it, but ultimately God took my mom because it was time for her to join Him. She'd suffered so much for so long. I've only really learned how extreme her suffering was in the past few years. God was ready to take her pain away. To give her a new body, whole and beautiful, not crippled and broken. She'd spent her life trying to help people know and love God, and it was time for her to have her reward.

I don't know if this makes sense, or if anyone will read it, but this is what I've been thinking about the past few days. Pray for my friend and her family, that they will have comfort and know the Lord in a new way through this. I'll leave you with this:

1 Corinthians 15-
50 I tell you this, brothers: flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. 51 Behold! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, 52 in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. 53 For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality. 54 When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written:
“Death is swallowed up in victory.”55 “O death, where is your victory?O death, where is your sting?”
56 The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. 57 But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.
58 Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.