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Cosmo Kramer, Nine Months Along

Today is my third son's eighth birthday.  He would have been an April baby if everything had gone according to plan.  But, as these things often do, things went awry.

Andrew is the only baby whose labor was completely different than the others.  With all my other kids, I went into labor a few days early, had steadily increasing contractions -- which increased with walking -- and less than seven hours later, I was holding a baby in my arms.  Jonathan and Maddie came in less than three hours from the time labor began in earnest.

Andrew, however, was at the mercy of his foolish mother who got excited about a game of Cranium in her enlarged state, and he arrived ten days early.

We were living in southern California at the time, and the men of the church had gone out of town on a retreat for the weekend.  The women who were left home alone decided to get together for a game night.  Although my husband had stayed home from the retreat for fear that I would have the baby while he was gone, he told me it would be good for me to get out of the house and have some fun.

So I went to my friend Amy's house, where the night began with some karaoke.  We had some snacks and moved on to Cranium.  If you haven't played it, Cranium is a combination of drawing, singing, trivia, and charades.  And naturally the charades would fall to the pregnant lady.

As I remember it, the question was an "all-play," which means that I was competing at the same time as Amy.  We were given the name "Kramer," as in Cosmo Kramer, as in Jerry Seinfeld's neighbor.

HERE IS THE PROBLEM.  We were in a room full of women who were either too young, too holy, or too busy to watch Seinfeld.  It ended up that Amy and I were the only people who knew who Kramer was.  So basically we were given the impossible task of getting people to guess something they would never, ever guess. The closest thing we could hope for was that maybe someone had seen a commercial with him in it.  Or lightning would strike and someone would just happen to say the right name.  Let's just say the odds were LONG.

But Amy and I were good sports and maybe too competitive for our own good, and so as the timer began, we started our Kramer impersonations enthusiastically.  Since we were in Amy's front room, right by the door, I decided to use the door as a tool, because Kramer is known for his entrances:





This exit/entrance strategy was especially perplexing to a few team members because they thought I was going home.

Onward we forged, for the full minute allotted, with our poor team members shouting out, "You're coming home!  Hair!  Door!  Oh, it's that guy...oh, I don't know his name..Sorry!"

As the time ran out, I made one more spectacular attempt, sliding in the door and up against the wall.  I continued my Kramer-esque jerky movements along the wall, hoping someone - anyone - would have a moment of inspiration and shout out the right name.  However, whereas Michael Richards (the actor who played Kramer) is a lithe, sprightly man with obvious physical comedy skills, I was a thirty-five-pounds-overweight, off-balance, pregnant woman who carried WAAAAYYY out in front.

I slid along the wall and suddenly realized that my weight was causing me to steadily gain momentum.  I can see it even now in slow motion...sliding, sliding, jerking, faster...faster...until I was headed in a definite downward direction towards Amy and Uel's beautiful white ceramic tile floor.

To the women in the living room, I imagine this looked like I was going along with the imitation until I suddenly dropped out of sight behind the couch.  They just thought I was really into it.  Kramer is REALLY clumsy sometimes!  They all roared with laughter!

Meanwhile, I was face down on the floor checking to make sure all my teeth were in place.  Miraculously, I hadn't fallen on my belly, but I remember my face hitting pretty hard, and I was laughing at the time, so I quickly slid my tongue over my front teeth to make sure they were all there.  Yes, (phew!) yes, they were.  The last thing I wanted was a picture from the hospital with my new baby, smiling away looking like a hockey player.  Vanity, thy name is Kelly.

I remember the moment when the girls realized that I hadn't popped up yet, and they all yelled, "OH! KELLY!" at the same time.  They were all sympathy and compassion and I was laughing at myself, feeling humiliated.  I wish someone had been videotaping...it would have been a GEM.

After the games were over, I drove home and started having contractions.  They were on and off all night, and then finally stopped.  We got up for church as normal, put a chicken in the crockpot for lunch, and headed off for Sunday service.  As soon as I sat down in Sunday School at 9 AM, contractions started up again.

It was a sluggish labor, and contractions never picked up unless I remained absolutely still.  Eventually, at six that night, my doctor gave me pitocin to help things along.  It certainly did that.  Andrew was born shortly after seven.  In the picture from the hospital -- which is in storage, or I'd post it -- you can see my top lip is slightly swollen.  This change is an improvement for me, since I normally have almost no upper lip.

I do have all my teeth in that picture.  I haven't tried impersonating Kramer since.

Rules for Self-Discovery

Today I'm teaching on A.W. Tozer, and I happened across this little gem last night.  I think I will be pondering this one for a while:

Rules for Self Discovery: 

 1. What we want most; 

 2. What we think about most; 

 3. How we use our money; 

 4. What we do with our leisure time; 

 5. The company we enjoy; 

 6. Who and what we admire; 

 7. What we laugh at.

 ― A.W. Tozer

One Thousand Gifts 3.26.12

249.  Last week's Blue and Gold banquet brought Cameron's Arrow of Light Award.  This is the highest award given to Cub Scouts.  It was a big moment for him.

250.  David and the three oldest boys making their "Feller Cakes" :  cakes made only by the fellers in the family -- meaning I was not allowed to help in any way. This was especially hilarious in a new kitchen where everything is unfamiliar.

251.  Wednesday night's Seder supper with our friends in FLOCK (what our church calls small group).  We had it outside, which was a first for us.

252.  Boys gaining experience with the computer; doing homework and helping each other.

253.  A sweet family night at Pizza Hut celebrating our good readers.

254.  A great date night with my husband.  We like to take the kids to concerts, but sometimes it's nice to see Andrew Peterson without them, too.

255.  Hard working Saturdays that make for restful Sundays.

The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. 

1 Corinthians 15:56-57

Possum in the Pool

If you follow my twitter stream, you might have seen an ALL CAPS message a few weeks back about a "DEAD ANIMAL IN THE POOL!"

I was upstairs and the children came running inside yelling about a possum in the pool.  I felt certain that their home education had failed them and that they really meant a mole was in the pool.  Unfortunately, they were right about it being a possum.  I let out a little shriek when I discovered this fact.

How a Nature-y, Charlotte Mason-y, Calm, Expert Mother Would Have Handled It:
"Look, children, a possum!  Remember, possums are mammals, which means they cannot breathe under water.  Obviously this poor creature wandered into our pool in the dark, and eventually its lungs filled with water and it was unable to survive.  How sad.  Let's pull it out, draw it in our nature study notebooks, and then give it a proper burial."

What I Did:
(don't miss the part where I scream and say, "IT'S SOOOOOO YUCKY!")
(also, apologies for the cinematography)




Then we tied it up in a trash bag -- more correctly, I tied it up in a trash bag since you can see how much assistance I was getting from everyone else -- dialed 311, and two hours later a truck from the city of Charlotte came and took our disgusting hairy friend away.

The End.

In Which I Scold Patriots Fans Whining About Tebow Becoming a Jet

THAT is an appealing title, isn't it?!  Did you show up here just for the tongue-lashing?  Good for you.

Source

Yesterday around one o'clock Eastern time, it was announced that Tim Tebow, beloved sports star to evangelical Christians everywhere, was leaving Denver for the New York Jets.  About the same time, a huge whine went up from New England.

Here's why:  New England sports fans love to hate New York teams, and right behind the despised Yankees are the Jets.  J-E-T-S- mess, mess, mess.

But what a terrible conflict of interest for Tebow-lovers in New England!  Whatever can they do?!  Surely they cannot root for Tebow when he wears the hated green and white!

Well, actually, they can.  And they should.  Here's why.

Our loyalties as sports fans should be dwarfed by our loyalties to Jesus.

Is she saying rooting for Tebow = rooting for Jesus?

Oh my no.  I hope you know me better than that by now.  Here's what I am saying.

As Christians watching a sporting event we should rejoice at praiseworthy behavior regardless of where it occurs -- whether it's on our side of the line of scrimmage or theirs.  I've already talked about Tebow and what I like about him.  It's not the grand gestures of "Tebowing," it's more for his attitude towards other players and his humility.  I appreciated the same thing in David Robinson when he was playing.  I find it admirable in Tony Dungy.  None of these men play for "my team," but who cares?  God is being glorified in their behavior.  That has very little to do with field performance.

By the way, basketball fans, this applies to Duke and Carolina, too.

...And Home Before Dark

Last Christmas I was given the soundtrack to the Broadway musical "Into the Woods" by my dear brother-in-law. It had been sitting on my Amazon wishlist for years, I think, and he finally took pity on me and bought it.If you're not familiar with "Into the Woods," it's kind of a mish-mosh of familiar fairy tales, like Jack and the Beanstalk, Rapunzel, and Cinderella.  The characters all get mixed up in each other's stories and affect the outcomes in surprising ways.

Along the way there are wonderful themes about being careful about what you wish for, people not being who they seem, forgiving mistakes in yourself and others, and being reassured you're not alone.

The kids have taken to it quickly; it's very witty and the boys find the princes (Cinderella's and Rapunzel's) hilarious:




And the wicked witch is played by the fabulous Bernadette Peters:




Maddie's favorite is Little Red Riding Hood.




Do you know "Into the Woods"? Or do you have a favorite Broadway musical to share with your kids?

Arguing with God

The best prayers I have ever heard in our prayer meetings have been those which have been fullest of argument. Sometimes my soul has been fairly melted down where I have listened to the brethren who have come before God feeling the mercy to be really needed, and that they must have it, for they first pleaded with God to give it for this reason, and then for a second, and then for a third and then for a fourth and a fifth until they have awakened the fervency of the entire assembly. 

-Charles Spurgeon 

The Gospel Made Visible

Our women's Bible Study is finishing up Ed Welch's book When People Are Big and God is Small over the next month.  This past Tuesday we discussed the chapters about loving your enemies and loving your neighbors, and loving your brothers and sisters.

As we talked, we acknowledged that people can move back and forth in those categories pretty regularly, depending on the state of our relationship with them.  Regardless, as Christians we are called to love and serve them all, not for our betterment, but for the glory of God.

We also talked about the tendency to lump together "the church" as a whole and write it off -- to be hurt by a particular person (or people) in the church and then attribute it to the church as a whole, saying "I've been hurt by the church too many times."  I referenced the sermon below as a picture of what the church should be instead -- a compelling place where diverse people are united by a common faith and love for their Savior, Jesus Christ.

It's an hour long, but it's worth your time.

The Move

The week of the move, we had a painting party.  We expected maybe four or five people to show up.  To our delight, TEN people showed up.  It was amazing!  Even our friends with babies brought them along, setting up makeshift playpens with boxes.  We had more than enough to do.  We painted all of the trim (which was dark wood) and covered most of the downstairs with this crew.  There are some spots that still need touching up, but a huge amount of the work was done, and we were grateful.

The living room

Here's my friend Shelley all alone painting around the door that leads to the garage.

"Hey, we're all done trimming this entryway, so let's go stand on the kitchen counter."

Jaime and Amy fit perfectly to do the top of the kitchen.

We ended up staying that night until around 10:30, but we felt really happy about what was done.  Thank you to everyone who came.

Then a few days later, moving day arrived! 

Loading up

Ben put a sign on the door that said "I love moving!"  I did not feel the same way around six hours later.

The new place is just a short ten minute's drive away, over a little back road most of the way.  This road feels a little bumpy in a regular car, but according to my husband, in a moving truck , it feels like "THE SURFACE OF THE MOON."

Unloading

I'm not sure why, but all of our bed linens ended up in a pile in the driveway.

Below you see a picture of the Most Difficult Piece of Furniture We Own.  You may see a picture of our dining room hutch in this post from last week.  The important thing to know about this hutch is that it does not come apart.  It is one piece.  We have moved it from Massachusetts, to San Francisco, to L.A., to Charlotte, and every time people's eyes get really big when we tell them that it's a single piece.  David understands how it needs to be moved by now, but he is always nervous about it.

I call the photo "Scaling His Personal Everest."  My parents think he looks like General MacArthur.  I can see that.

Notice Wayne in the foreground, a good ten feet away, hands firmly in pockets.
He was not getting involved, and was not ashamed to say so.  Smart.

Proof that the hutch made it into the house.  Then we could all breathe a sigh of relief.

Maddie drinking Gatorade.  Moving is tough on 3 year olds.

 By the time we were all sitting around eating dinner that night, Maddie had crumbled to a shell of herself.  I asked her to go upstairs to put on her pajamas and she begged me to make that her "last job."

I get tired just looking at these pictures!  Oof.

Brackets Everywhere!

If you're interested in joining our March Madness group this year, leave me a comment.  I probably invited a good many of you yesterday.  If you're having trouble making decisions as you fill out your bracket, you might want to try some of our methods.

One Thousand Gifts 3.12.12

243. more progress on the house.  We were able to host our first small group meeting here on Wednesday night.  Despite a few hiccups -- like missing chairs! -- we made it through nicely.
244. safe travel for my husband to the Far East.  16 hours on a flight...I don't envy him that!  FaceTime has been keeping us in touch.
245. more progress on next year's homeschool co-op.  It's so nice to see things start to solidify.
246. spring!  Pear trees, daffodils, forsythia all in bloom.
247. a chance to do more wedding flowers...I love these opportunities.  Thankful for my mom for employing me all those years so some of her skills could rub off on me.
248. sweet quiet afternoon chatting with a friend.  It seems like the Sunday after the time change is always a chance to talk long in the sun.  I have a lot of treasured memories of that day on the calendar.  Yesterday will be another.

hydrangeas, alstromeria, and waxflowers

Classic Folk Music for Kids

People who hold house concerts in their living rooms probably qualify as folk music lovers, don't you think?  We've tried to pass down this love to our children by dragging them along with us to every music event we can afford.

Also, we have a couple favorite CDs by some great folk singers of the 1960s and 70s that our kids really love. You might want to check them out.

One is Peter, Paul, and Mary's Peter, Paul and Mommy album.  I grew up on this album and have fond memories of singing along with it in the backseat of my mom's Ford Fairmont.  A couple years ago mom bought it for my kids, and I think I bought it for my sister's kids after that.

It includes some traditional English folk songs, too, like "Leatherwing Bat."  But far and away, our favorite to sing along with is "The Marvelous Toy":

The other, more recent, favorite CD is The Johnny Cash Children's Album.  Mom got this for Jonathan for Christmas because of his obsession with At Folsom Prison.

Can you guess which one of our kids likes this song the best?

They also love "Nasty Dan."


(the CD version does not have Oscar the Grouch's commentary, thank goodness)

To be completely truthful, I find most kid's music annoying.  This is far more pleasant.

For Reluctant Readers

My two youngest guys are both good readers, but it's almost like they don't know it yet.  They balk at reading the books that I've had their older brothers read.  In order to build their confidence and avoid frustration, I've had to change tactics.

I have found a great deal of success with your friend and mine, Charlie Brown.

We have a few of these books:  The Complete Peanuts (various years).  They've been great for all the boys.  The older kids have stretched their vocabulary -- Snoopy, Linus, and Lucy use pretty big words -- and the younger ones have gotten in some practice reading without even realizing it.

These collections are a little pricey, but we've saved them for Christmas and birthday gifts, and they are always greeted with loud cheering when unwrapped.

Accentuate the Positive

As we've continued to unpack, it has been easy for me to get overwhelmed.  Every once in a while I will open one of those boxes that was packed in a hurry towards the end of the packing process which contains three dirty socks (no matches), an iPod cord, a coffee mug full of loose change, twenty-two Legos, and a tube of toothpaste.

A survival tactic that I've employed recently is "accentuate the positive."  Let me give you a few examples.

Here are two shots of the new kitchen.

Ahh, the top of the cabinet.  A lovely tableau of green glass jars and my oversized Ball jar.  So peaceful.

And in the other direction, the beverage station/buffet.
Kinda makes you want to scream and pull your hair, right?
Quick, look back up above.  Ahh, all better.

Let's try it in the dining room.

Here's my teacup collection housed on the freshly polished hutch.
I don't like that lamp sitting there, but it's not offensive.

Now take a few steps back.  This picture was taken a few days ago,
and I tell you truly that the table looks WORSE and not better today.
Go back to thinking about the teacups.

Opposite the dining room...

The library.  A cohesive collection of commentaries.  Everything is lined up.  And there's that dumb
stuffed turkey wearing a mortarboard that my husband refuses to discard.  Everything is in its place.

Except down here.  Down here nothing is in its place and everything is very upsetting.
When will I get to vacuum this rug?  Maybe today?

So there you have it:  my handy coping mechanism for the unpacking process.  It also works for children.  Don't like the yogurt-smeared shirt your child is wearing at co-op?  Maybe his socks match.  Look at his socks.

Feel better now?

Sweetness and Light

As you all know, I'm a sports fan and I love good sports writing.  David and I were pleased to be present at the Baseball Hall of Fame induction ceremony when Peter Gammons, longtime Red Sox writer, was honored.  Rick Reilly is also a favorite of us both.

One of my favorite sportswriters is Frank Deford, who is an NPR contributor.  His opinion pieces each week are called "Sweetness and Light," and one recent story had me all choked up.  I know you'll enjoy it, too.

Source

Yes, he was a captain, but it was, you see, the first start of his college career. Cory had played a few minutes on the varsity as a freshman, never even scoring. But then, after that season, although he was only 18 years old, he suffered a major stroke. He was unable to walk for two weeks. His whole left side was paralyzed. He lost his memory, had seizures.

Read or listen to the whole thing at When There's More to Winning Than Winning.

One Thousand Gifts 3.5.12

I'm back -- maybe for good this time.  Unpacking has gotten to a manageable level around here and I actually went for a walk this morning as the sun came up.  It's nice to be returning to some state of normalcy.

If you look carefully in the picture to the right, you'll see a little puffed-up bird.  It's a titmouse who visited us for several days whilst throwing his body against the glass.  I think he was fighting with himself.  Recently, he has moved on and no longer comes to call.

Look behind him!  That's our backyard.  It's so wooded and lovely.  The new place is great, and I can't wait to share more with you all.

234.  dinner on the deck with friends after a 77-degree day last Thursday (March 1st!)
235.  tearful spiritual conversations with our kids
236.  catching up with my Italy friend
237.  co-op friends, for me and the kids
238.  a levelheaded husband who manages things when I reach a frustration point with "I CAN'T FIND ANYTHING AND NOTHING IS WHERE IT BELONGS!"
239.  daffodils everywhere
240.  Romans 8
241.  Romans 9
242.  my first baking excursion in my new kitchen.  It felt good to be back at work.