I remember us sending them off… the weird ones, the misfits. Plane ticket in hand they stepped onto the platform and into the spotlights. Each one cringed at the lights, squinting to find reality again. Each uncomfort worn on their sleeves revealed potential loosing streaks in poker. They were raw and unfancied. They were dismissed and forgotten. Every once in a while their names would appear in the bulletin, a constant reminder daily forgotten. And then some came back, fire blazing in their eyes. And others didn’t return, they had found a new home. Those who came back tried to re-live here. They tried to find a peace amongst war. Oh but they just stuck out like a sore thumb, an ostrich among pigeons. Some of them left again, they couldn’t take the tension of living in a fake reality of self-indulgence and greed. They pleaded for the hungry, the sick, the lost. And we entertained their pictures and some of their shorter stories. And then we moved on… afterall they were the weird ones, the misfits. They needed to go back to the mission field. It’s the right place for people like them.

Have you ever felt isolated because you saw a Truth no one else seemed to see?
This world is not our home, Christians. We can’t stay here.
We can’t get comfortable here with our matching furniture and 12 pairs of shoes.
The world is not ours.
Where’d the harvesters go? Where’d the obedience go?
Or did we just trade it for radical for the sake of radical?

-a self-reminder-

So a while ago in May to be precise, I got the opportunity to play. Jes in her wonderful ideas decided to make a special gift for her hunny. And while I was trying to still figure out the sweet camera I borrowed from my friend, some neat shots arose from the “to be deleted” category. Thought you might enjoy seeing a few. Cause reader… this is what Monica enjoys. No, I am not any good at it and yes I borrow a friend’s camera. But I really do enjoy taking a picture that captures a thought and an emotion. And just maybe some day I’ll actually get good at it. Ehh… probably not. But it sure won’t keep me from still shooting. =)

Jim on the keys

it actually started raining for us which was pretty cool

(Daddy was even outside holding an umbrella so the camera wouldn’t get wet.

I felt all photographer-y. – Dad’s great!)

this one I think she ended up using on the front cover.

after taking it I wondered “what is she thinking?”

and then this one’s a little blurry, but I still am kind of drawn to it for some reason.

I don’t really have much of anything to say so I figured it was a great day and time to post. Today’s been a headless chicken day here at work which I guess is due to me because the last two days were so productive. Ate salad for lunch and baby LOVED it! Ranch dressing is amazing despite Matt’s “want to vomit” feeling when thinking about kissing me after I have consumed Ranch. (love that man, he’s hilarious.) Last night had steak at the Stauffer’s house in celebration of Barb’s birthday. Despite feeling nauseous, baby loved the steak and gave up on it’s torture of me shortly after it was consumed.

Dorkily, I’m excited that we’re getting the Internet all set up at home tomorrow. I look forward to being able to post pics that I’ve actually taken again. This excites me being as how it’s been a long time since I’ve lost my jump drive and have been able to track down a consistent computer to upload my pics and post them. Yay for all you two readers out there as well because that means potentially less of my words and more stalker material.

Matt and I actually have a house phone line now (haven’t had one of those in 3 years). Don’t ask me what our phone number is, but by golly we have one and when we are ever home we’ll be sure to check that answer machine and then forget to call you back.

The countdown to Niagara Falls is already going in my head. Despite not being a numerically based countdown, I am more than aware of how quickly August 22-25 is arriving. Also Matt has some kind of surprise on Aug 21 that he is absolutely thrilled about and enjoys teasing me regarding his mysterious plans. Thus far all I know according to Matt, “I’ve got your King’s Island right here,” [referencing to a good time] and that it’s something that we’ll do together. Beyond that… who knows?

And lastly before I go pee, I wanted to share that Ellen gave Matt and I some baby clothes that Becka used to wear. And you should have seen my husband’s face light up when he came home from work one day to find me sitting on the nursery floor folding tiny little sleepers. It was so neat. And the clothes are just darling. So, my dear faithful readers, we now have a few of our frist baby clothes, despite having little direction from baby.

Lovin’ life. And finding myself with many reasons to smile.
Hope you can say the same.

This being an adult thing is complicated. Today we went to another meeting about something that none of us wanted to hear about during our only free “lunch” hour of the day. And with a stack of new papers on updated policy, all of us employees felt one more life-fulfillment settle in. This meeting did have some value in that it stirred up a conversation with a fellow employee regarding family priorities. It was interesting to hear the experience of a mom of three kids (6, 4 and 9 months) who had been fired from a job prior to this one.

She carried on about the struggles of being the full-time employee in a household where a husband is about to lose his job. She talked of the years of sacrifice and struggle to find child-care as well as her faded and lost desire to be a stay-at-home mom. “We could live off of one salary,” she explained, “But right now it looks like mine.”

And this conversation opened up a whole world of thoughts as she spoke of all her friends being stay-at-home moms. She spoke of the value of private schools in socializing children. She spoke of the value in switching from her old 60hour per week job to this 40ish hour per week job. She spoke of the joy of offering her children herself after a day’s work instead of a tired mom who is swamped with paperwork. But she also spoke in regret at missing parts of her children’s lives.

It’s kind of sad that life requires the trade of job for family so many times. It’s one of my greatest struggles, which according to a dear friend will only become more and more of a struggle. There are good employment moves; from 60 hour jobs to 40 hour jobs with higher pay. And there are good family employment moves; from full-time to part-time in order to see your family more. But through this conversation we both resounded on the same chord: three years old only happens once and you’re either there for their discovery or you miss it.

I wonder what sacrifice my family will take due to my past education. If it weren’t for school debt, our finances and current lives would look much different. Yes, it’s the hand I chose to be dealt. There are just times that I wonder if I would have chose that hand knowing that it would greatly impact the little one within. Knowing that it would greatly impact the amount of time I can see them…. And watch them grow…

Choices I make today, choices we make today will affect the amount of time I have to give this little one. But part of me longs for the poverty of my childhood… because at least mom was there constantly. Oh I’m sure she had her regrets and her “I wish I could give you this” moments in which finances were so strapped that birthday presents and Christmases weren’t quite what they had dreamed. But she had herself to give… and she knew it was the greatest gift she could give us.

But who knows… maybe some day Matt and I will be able to make our cake and eat it too. Until then we get to keep fighting the fight of every full-time mom or dad, wife or husband; balance. It’s a “balance” that leans in the weight of our family, but doesn’t topple our job.

Friday we went to support a friend at his art show. It was neat to see some art and make fun or some other art with Matt (tastefully of course). And it was particularly fun to eat the “opening reception” cheese squares, grapes, and sour-dough bread. “I think the last time I went to an art museum was in high school,” reflected Matt. I was appreciative of his willingness to adventure into untrod territories for the sake of supporting our friend. Overall, despite being “ready to go” with the increasing crowded-ness, Matt and I had a really good time.

We had “the kids” over this weekend. And despite being pregnant, I managed to sorta keep up with the energy of of a 9 y/o boy and a 14 y/o girl. I felt accomplished, especially for this woman who lives for her 4pm naps. We got them Friday night after Sarah’s soccer practice and the art show. And after ice cream with Matt’s parents, we went home, put a movie on for the kids (AKA my brother and sister in law) and I plopped into bed.

Saturday was filled with activity; waffles resulting in two burnt and bubbled fingers of mine, pet store trip resulting in 9 y/o squeals as Franklin devoured scaled delicacies, a game of catch in the yard, a trip to the mall for much-desired on my behalf pretzels and visiting a youth during their shift, and a trip to the park resulting in dripping sweat and a small welt on my arm from being hit by a Frisbee from a game I wasn’t playing. On top of all that fun, I learned, once again, that “kids” break everything – especially cat toys. And when left to their own demise, a 9 y/o can be very obnoxious, despite how much you love him. As “the kids” left our house, Matt and I smiled at each other and felt this wonderful relief that they don’t come out 9 y/o.

Sunday mom came to visit. And we had wonderful conversations about all kinds of things. It was really fun… and really relaxing. Matt and I really enjoyed mom coming over. We both expressed our thankfulness for good adult conversation.

And today… is one of those sick days I should have called in this morning, but I couldn’t afford (in more ways than one) to use sick time, especially after last week’s sick time. It’s one of those “suffer through it” days in order to convince my boss that I can be reliable despite carrying a puke-inducer. But it’s also one of those days that I just wanted to fall over and die. After laying on Matt’s chest for 10 minutes moaning internally this morning, I pulled myself into the car, eying the puke-bag, and dragged my feet to the office. And here I sit… greenish-pale, fogged-out, heavy-eyed, head-ached, and stuffy-nosed counting the seconds until my freedom. A freedom to take my after-work nap which may end with a Tuesday alarm.