Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Christmas Wreaths.

Janet, Sarah, and I got together yesterday to decorate Christmas wreaths.
Can you guess whose is whose?

Friday, November 13, 2009

Do You Ever Get Bored?

I was asked that question this week, so I thought I'd post what I did today, a pretty typical day at home. It seems like more when it's all written out! Or maybe it seems like less...

7:30 a.m.: Wake up.
Change Hueston's diaper, dress him, and begin feeding him breakfast. Watch the latest episode of "Glee" on Hulu, check email and Facebook.

8:30 a.m.: Take out trash, call David at work to say Hi.

8:45 a.m.: Shower, while Hueston sits just outside the door.
Get dressed, dry hair, brush teeth.

9:15 a.m.: Eat breakfast (toasted chocolate chip pecan banana bread and orange juice) seated on the floor while Hueston plays on his quilt. Read two pages of Phantom Island: Wind.

9:45 a.m. Hueston's second breakfast (we're on a Hobbit meal schedule).

11:10 a.m. Put Hueston in bouncy seat, asleep.

11:13 a.m. Hueston wakes up, but is content. Start a baked potato in the toaster oven, open and sort mail. Eat another piece of banana bread.

11:35 a.m. Change a diaper.

11:40 a.m. Tummy Time on the quilt. Eat a cheese stick and drink a cup of green tea.

12:05 p.m. Hueston gnaws on my knuckle.
This actually lasts five full minutes.

12:10 p.m. Stand at the front door so Hueston can stare outside. This actually lasts five full minutes.

12:15 p.m. Walk around the house naming everything Hueston looks at. Standing in our room this sounds like "Ireland pictures. Fan. Mommy. Fan. Ireland. Fan. Ireland. Mommy. Fan." Then we progress to looking at our reflections in the mirror.

12:20 p.m. Put Hueston in his swing.

12:25 p.m. Change a diaper.

12:30 p.m. Stare out the front door again. Being or looking outside usually has a calming effect.

12:32 p.m. Walk around the house. This also usually has a calming effect.

12:34 p.m. Put Hueston in bouncer. Eat baked potato with right hand, dangle toys over bouncer with left hand. This also usually has a calming effect.

12:50 p.m. General fussiness continues as I try to clean up a little.

12:55 p.m. Hueston begins luncheon (we skipped elevensies). I check email and upload photos from my camera.

2:10 p.m. Change a diaper.

2:15 p.m. Tummy Time!

2:40 p.m. Hueston seems sleepy, so I put him in his swing. I sit on the floor and sing to him, but he never goes to sleep.

3:10 p.m. Playtime on the monkey-skin rug.

3:20 p.m. Knuckle gnawing.

3:30 p.m. Hueston begins afternoon tea, alternately with short catnaps. I listen to music online on Pandora.

4:20 p.m. Hueston finishes eating and wants to play.

4:30 p.m. Change a diaper.

4:33 p.m. Check the mail, stand outside enjoying the fall weather.

4:37 p.m. Tummy Time.
Think about going to the grocery store. Think about what to eat for dinner.

4:50 p.m. Begin browning some meat that needs to be cooked, and start a load of laundry. Hueston plays with his rings and we sing some silly songs (I think I even did a verse or two of "Rawhide").

5:10 p.m. Knuckle gnawing.

5:15 p.m. Suddenly remember about the meat on the stove. Put Hueston in Bumbo chair. Resume knuckle gnawing with left hand and read Phantom Island: Wind with right hand.

5:30 p.m. Fussiness signals the end of the Bumbo time. Go outside to wait for David to come home.

5:42 p.m. David arrives and Hueston sits in the bouncer while we watch the newest clips of Nerd Wars IV.

5:50 p.m. Hueston has some Daddy time while I clean up the kitchen and switch out the laundry.

6:10 p.m. David gets Hueston to sleep and attempts to put him in his bouncer.

6:15 p.m. Hueston begins dinner.

7 p.m.-ish David puts on "Ocean's Eleven" and eats PB&J.

7:45 p.m. Put Hueston in bouncer and start making myself a quesadilla.

7:50 p.m. Change a diaper.

8 p.m. Eat quesadilla and some yogurt and blueberries while seated on the floor next to the bouncer. Try not to act too interested in the movie.

9 p.m. Bath time. Lavender bedtime lotion and PJs.

9:15 p.m. Hueston has some more Daddy time while I drain the tub and clean up my supper dishes.

9:30 p.m. Hueston begins supper, almost immediately falling asleep. David puts on a couple of episodes of "The Office." I continue waking Hueston periodically so he can eat.

10:45 p.m. Put Hueston in his crib. Hope he stays asleep.

10:55 p.m. Publish this post. Get ready for bed.
Good night!

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Borrowed Post

This is from one of the blogs I've been reading lately, and it speaks to something I've been struggling with.
The intersection of my want and another’s need

Sometimes at dinnertime when I’m pulling out my worn stack of Corelle plates, the same ones I’ve been using for 15 years, I imagine buying new dishes. Something square and sleek and Asian-influenced, perhaps. Like this. Or maybe this?

I look at prices and remember I’d need at least enough to serve 16. I don’t have cupboard space for two sets of dishes. Yet getting rid of a perfectly decent set of dishes sounds wasteful. Which train of thought starts me imagining new cabinets, and a new kitchen floor. And, oh, as long as I’m dreaming of a remodel, how about an industrial range? And suddenly in my head I’m lusting after a $30,000 kitchen remodel instead of a $300 stack of plates.

About the time I start getting all revved up over the new kitchen idea, I happen to watch the news for the first time in weeks, and hear the staggering quote that a million kids a year die of malaria in Africa. Malaria. An entirely treatable disease. Killing a million kids a year in Africa alone.

That same evening I spend an hour chatting on facebook with my sister in Ethiopia. Talk turns to malaria again, along with all sorts of other ailments that Sophie treats every day. Polio. Mossy foot. Other ailments so ancient that Sophie’s been hunting 1930’s medical textbooks online, seeking lost wisdom about illnesses that modern Western doctors have never seen.

She tells me that some days she literally doesn’t know what to do next, she’s looking at so many people in need all at once.

“Do what’s in front of you, ” I tell her simply.

Clarity is always easier when advising others.

The next day I open an email from Shaun Groves, offering me free tickets to go see Hillsong’s new documentary The I-Heart Revolution. I’ve practically worn out two Hillsong CD’s, so I give him a quick and emphatic yes. I don’t know what the documentary is about, but if there’s Hillsong music, I’m there. (If you live in Australia or Asia, your date to see this movie is Nov. 18th, by the way)

Two evenings later I was there, traveling via film with Hillsong to some of the poorest areas in the world, listening to person after person spell out the dilemma that is continually in my mind: how much impact can I have on my world? Can my life make a difference?

In the middle of that movie, while watching a man offering gracious hospitality in the doorway of his 5 by 6 foot shack, my longing for new dishes and new floors in my comfortable home seemed as stupid and frivolous as socks on a turkey.

Walking out of the theater I clutched that feeling tight to my heart, knowing that in that moment my heart was aligned a little more closely with the heart of God, and wanting desperately for it to stay that way.

I’ve had that clarity before when coming home from travels, after seeing poverty in Ethiopia and in the Dominican Republic. Seeing the faces myself feels different, somehow. It makes me more ready to act, even if acting might take me beyond my comfort zone. Even if it means I miss out on bits of puffery here and there.

The trick is to remember the faces, and to not get confused by the puffery.

May God grant that clarity each time I open my wallet.


Right now a group of bloggers is in El Salvador, experiencing the work of Compassion International in that country. If you are longing to make an impact in this crazy mixed-up world of ours, would you considersponsoring a child?

Friday, November 6, 2009

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Fall Festival.

Hueston went as Mr. Amazing.
(Didn't know he was a superhero? Well... now you do.)

...and David took his turn in the dunking booth.