Sherah G Photography Blog

facebook + like = coffee!

2012-01-13T22:32:00.003-06:00

Hi all,

I just got around to creating a Facebook page for Sherah G Photography.

So here's the deal.

If you "like" the Sherah G Photography page (click here!)

between now and Tuesday, January 17th at midnight,

I'll enter you into a drawing for a

$20 gift card to Starbucks.

Woohoo!

(And, if you're not a coffee lover,

you can have one of their breakfast sandwiches.

Or, you can give the gift card back to me next Christmas.)

And p.s.

If you've already "liked" the page,

thank you!!

You're automatically entered!

******
UPDATE:

Thanks so much everyone for liking the FB page (...and Starbucks, of course!).
The winner of the gift card is...
Bob Landon!

Charlie + sink

2012-01-12T21:46:00.000-06:00

I'm learning some of the reasons why people say being a mom is a lot of work.

Yes, yes. I'm well aware of the sleepless nights, the diaper changes, the discipline games, the eat-this-piece-of-broccoli-so-help-me standoffs. But it's the intentionality that's starting to get me. Sometimes, Charlie and I sit there and stare at each other. And I think, Wait. I'm the Mom. I'm supposed to come up with something educational/productive/entertaining for us both to do? At this very moment?

Shoot.

Compounding the problem? The fact that, in my own house, I'm an anti-mess sort of person. Clean up after yourself -- or better yet, yeah... just don't do anything that requires cleaning up.

(Note the point of conflict between my lofty ideals and a one-year-old.)

So, I'm starting to learn how to get messy. Some parents can let their kids dump dirt on the floor and just clean it up later. Others do scrapbooking and cutting and gluing on the dining room table, with little scraps of pink construction-paper stars getting wedged between the floorboards or glued to the underside of the chairs. I applaud their bravery, and their creativity.

Me? I decided to start with water.

Doesn't this look idyllic? Charlie, happily playing away in the sink. Mommy, happily snapping pictures.

Actually:

Charlie had a cold. His nose was dripping all over the place.
Being the responsible mother I am... I was propping him up with my foot (so that he wouldn't fall off the chair) and taking pictures at the same time.
Then he started sucking on the hose nozzle thing. Do you have any idea how many germs are on a kitchen hose nozzle thing?
And then (of course) water was everywhere.
Down his pants.
Inside the cabinet.
On the floor.

But, Charlie was happily playing away in the sink.

I was just, more or less, stressfully taking pictures,
trying not to think about the water on the floor,
and giving myself a little pep-talk:
There! Good effort, newbie-mom. Good effort.

tab fest

2012-01-09T15:21:00.000-06:00

Whenever Marty uses my computer, he's shocked at the number of tabs I have open in my internet browser. (Does anyone else out there do this? Maybe it's a girl thing? Or a SMART PERSON thing? Come on, give me some ammo to throw back at my chiding husband. He just thinks I'm nuts.)

With the rise of Pinterest, it's been easier to quell my tab fetish by just pinning the links. Problem is... sometimes I just like the layout of a website. Or the general feel of it. Maybe there's something I don't really want to pin -- just something I'd like to remember for later. Regardless, my endless tabs live on.

Here's a sampling of what's pulled up at the top of my browser today:

Ann Voskamp's blog (and specifically, this daily to-do list. Brilliant.)

B&H Photo... and this new lens (yay!)

Peanut-Butter Banana Nutella cupcakes (can you say "WOW"?!) from Casey Wiegand's blog.

Winter Sewing Projects from Martha Stewart. (Don't hate. I love Ms. Martha Stewart. She's ingenious. I'd make every single one of these things... if my sewing machine wasn't buried under a pile of books, and if I didn't have a one-year-old, and if my house was clean. etc. etc. etc.)

Happy pinning/linking/tabbing/doing-something-otherwise-useful-with-your-life-ing!

tonight

2012-01-04T23:17:00.000-06:00

In the bleak midwinter,

Frosty wind made moan,

Earth stood hard as iron,

Water like a stone.

Snow had fallen, snow on snow

Snow on snow,

In the bleak midwinter,

long ago.

(Lines from Christina Rossetti's well-known carol.)

I haven't taken down my Christmas decorations yet. A quick look at my invisible "full schedule vs. low energy ratio" chart tells me that I'm pretty sure we'll have our tree up until March. Or maybe April. If I can get it down before Easter, we'll be doing good...

Hmm. Positives?

*The ambient light is nice.

*I can pretend I did it on purpose, because I really love Christmas. (Which I do.)

*Charlie's delight over "TISMAS LIGHTS" will be extended for a few more weeks. (Or months.)

*When it finally gets around to really snowing in Chicagoland (!!), I can turn my calendar back to December, look out the window, and pretend like we really did get a big snowstorm on Christmas Eve.

Speaking of winter...

There's this little closet nook in the back of our house where I do some of my editing. (We're currently in transition-mode between PC and Mac. The PC's been banished to the closet. 'Nough said.) It's chilly back there, but tonight, I had a good amount of work to do. So -- how cliche is this? -- I made some hot chocolate, lit a pretty candle, wrapped myself in a blanket, and got some serious work done back there.

A perfect, quiet, wintry work-night. Minus the token blanket of snow outside.

new year

2012-01-03T13:28:00.001-06:00

Have you made lots of resolutions? Just a few? None at all?

One thing I'm focusing on this year is doing more writing. I've always loved writing (it was part of my major in college), but it's gotten pushed to the side in the last few years. This year, I'm blocking out time for it every day, even if it's only a few minutes. Some of it will appear here... and some of it won't. In the past, I've blogged about what I think my readers (all three of you *HIGHFIVE!*) might want to read. Too much about Charlie? CUT. Too much sappy stuff? CUT. Too much transparency? CUT. But, I'm learning that the most powerful writers write what they want to read. They write for themselves. (I should add that Christian writers write for an even bigger purpose -- they write for Jesus.)

There's always the "transparency vs. too-much-honesty" line, and I'm working on defining that in my mind, and on the page. I'd much rather tell someone verbally about my struggles, or my dreams, or the best book I've ever read -- or heck, what I ate for breakfast this morning -- rather than have them read about it on my blog. But the truth is this:

(1) I'm at home a lot, and often my personal contact with people is usually limited.

(2) This blog has the potential to reach a world of readers whom I know nothing about (and may never know).

(3) Writing, and photography, are creative outlets for me, in the midst of the sometimes hum-drum routine of life. They help me see beauty in the everyday. They spark my interest in life. They push this melancholy girl out of her comfort zone. I need that.

(4) Regardless of whether anyone reads this blog, or comments on my posts, or thinks that it's valuable (or, on the contrary, a waste of valuable time)... it doesn't matter.

I came across this link on SimpleMom.net, about a nanny in the 1950's who spent her life photographing images of Chicago with a Rolleflex camera. The negatives were discovered in a box after her death in 2009, revealing a lifetime of beautiful work. The pictures are incredible. And she never received any credit for them.

But, you see, that's not the reason why she took them in the first place.

Happy 2012! Here's to better writing, better photography, better living... tasting and enjoying the fullness of life, all to the glory of God.

Christmas cheer!

2011-12-24T07:00:00.000-06:00

This is, quite literally, the only family picture we have where all three of us are smiling.

That's what happens when two family members are melancholies,

and the third is a cheery, eternal optimist

who thinks that even crabby-looking pictures have redeeming qualities.

*Hint*

Charlie and I are not eternal optimists.

Regardless,

here's wishing you and yours a blessed and merry Christmas,

from our melancholy-optimist bunch :)

May you eat too many cookies,

sing lots of carols, funny and favorite,

be both the giver and recipient of abundant generosity,

and remember the very reason we celebrate Christmas in the first place.

Cathia and Bret :: Married!

2011-12-15T14:06:00.002-06:00

Remember this post from last month, when I introduced you to Cathia?

Well, here's her beautiful wedding day, in pictures!

{**** click here to see a slideshow of the wedding day! ****}

I first met Bret in October of this year, when the three of us met to go over wedding details. We sat inside a 50's-style diner, and over burgers and fries, I told him -- twice -- that he was the luckiest guy in the world, because he was marrying Cathia. (He wholeheartedly agreed with me, by the way.)

Cathia and Bret are both in the military. They're tough, and they're passionate. They really, really love each other. If you watched the slideshow at the top of this post, notice Bret's expressions whenever he looks at Cathia. It's like his eyes are saying, "This woman is my treasure."

What a privilege to spend their wedding day with them and their family. Marty and I loved every single minute of it.

And now... a few behind-the-scenes shots from the day.

Some of these are ridiculously embarrassing.

Just being real here, yo.

We like not taking ourselves too seriously.

(Can I also say that Marty is an absolute saint for being willing to shoot weddings with me? He knows that I boss him around, and stress out about stupid things, and pace like a madwoman... and he still plugs away, taking awesome pictures and setting up off-camera flashes and running to get bouquets and making faces at me from across the aisle. I love him.)

And...

...post-wedding Steak N Shake celebration.

It was a very long, and very awesome day, indeed.

HO TISMAS TEE!

2011-12-14T06:00:00.000-06:00

After a long day,

there's nothing better than driving home in a quiet car,

and suddenly hearing a little voice squeal out,

"TISMAS LIGHTS!"

"TISMAS TEE! TISMAS TEE!"

and then,

"Sing. Mom! Ho Tismas Tee, Ho Tismas Tee..."

Babies are not all fun. I'll be the first person to tell you that.

But this?

This is fun!

hair cut.

2011-12-12T06:00:00.000-06:00

This is my sweet little boy, right after naptime:

(I cut his hair, all by myself, right after I took these pictures.

Can you believe how badly he needed a haircut?!)

I probably shouldn't have attempted a solo-haircut, right after taking these pictures,

given the dreadful foreboding of this dagger-like glance, directed straight at me:

And this was him saying, "No. No. NO."

As in, "Stop taking my picture."

So I stopped.

And then I cut his hair.

Afterwards, there were hair clippings,

orange peels,

melted MnM's,

Christmas mints,

and wet towels

all over the bathroom.

Memories were most definitely made.

(Now, I'm off to google "Humane straight-jackets for children, for moms attempting DIY haircuts.")

bell ringin' and such

2011-12-09T12:43:00.001-06:00

Hellooo bloggy world!!!!

I've been a bad blogger. Please forgive me. Also, please forgive anything obnoxious about this post (including too many exclamation points, or adding extra letters to the ends of words that really should have been left alone). I'm on my second cup of coffee, running on much-too-little sleep. Bear with me.

Things have been crazy around here. I'm guessing it's the same at your house, right? In order to cope with the nutz-o-ness of the season, I'm trying to focus on what's really, truly important. Things like talking to God every day. Reading the Bible. Making time for people. Smiling at crabby employees. Eating leftover Christmas party cookies. Digging in my purse for loose change for the Salvation Army bell ringers, while Charlie wiggles in my arms.

...Which reminds me of a story. Once upon a time, I was a Salvation Army bell ringer.

I'm not sure how it happened. My college roommate and I were members of Omicron Delta Kappa. (ODK is a national leadership honor society. Don't be too impressed. We jumped through lots of hoops, and got to wear a few extra cords around our necks on graduation day. Oh, and we had to pay for the cords. Bogus.)

Anyways, part of our membership requirements were a few hours of community service, doing pretty much whatever we wanted to do. My roommate found out about the above-mentioned bell-ringing opportunity, and one Saturday, there we were, in Uptown (a hipster neighborhood in Minneapolis), ringing bells on a street corner and trying to figure out if we were supposed to say "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays." The token red bucket and bell didn't come with an instruction manual for proper bell-ringing, donation-collecting etiquette.

Now, PEOPLE. Cut the bell-ringers some slack. I know lots of folks who get all worked up about this. "SHE SAID 'HAPPY HOLIDAYS' TO ME. CAN YOU BELIEVE WHAT THIS GOD-FORSAKEN COUNTRY IS COMING TO?" And then they'll look over their shoulder and yell, "MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU TOO, SWEETHEART!!!!"

(Again with the coffee/lack of sleep thing. Sorry.)

But listen: do you have any idea how offended people get on both sides of the spectrum? We got death-looks from people, whether we said "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays." Really, truly, we did. There were also people who responded to our "Happy Holidays" with a knowing glance, a smile, and a quiet, "Merry Christmas." Those were the ones, I'm convinced, who worked in retail, and knew how it was to be forced to say something you didn't really want to say.

I didn't mean to turn this post into an anti-Happy-Holidays tirade. Whoops. Back to my story without an ending:

It was cold. We'd take turns standing inside the nearby convenience store and drinking really bad hot chocolate, while the other person stood outside, bumbling their words because their lips were blue and people were all sensitive about the Happy Holidays issue, and ringing that little bell faster and faster, because it was getting colder and colder. The few hours crawled by. If I ever ring that silly bell again in sub-zero temperatures, it'll be as a four-person quartet, singing Christmas carols. It's a win-win: you avoid the Happy Holidays issue, you get to sing about Jesus in public (because, really, that's who the very best Christmas songs are all about), and it gets your mind off of how slow the time is going, and how cold your toes are.

Moral of the story? Next time you see a bell-ringer, give them a pair of those instant hand-warmer things, or buy them a cup of (good) coffee, please!

thankful

2011-11-23T23:13:00.001-06:00

Two years ago, on the eve of Thanksgiving, I wrote this little letter to Charlie (who was yet to be born!).

Last year, on the eve of Thanksgiving, I wrote another letter to 9-month-old Charlie.

Now, here's another letter to our almost 2-year-old!

***

dear Charlie-warlie,

You're delighted with blinking lights, evergreen trees, and all things Christmas. I took you to the mall today, and you smashed your face against the railing, staring with baby-wonder at the giant Christmas tree towering above you. Back at home, we put up our own Christmas tree, and you literally ran in circles, you were so excited.

You woke up from your nap with messy hair and pink cheeks. You wore bright blue socks with skid protectors on the bottoms, because your feet usually move too fast for your body. I talk a lot about how you're a persnickety baby, and how you're a fussy napper (which is true)... but not enough about how smart you are. How funny you are. How handsome you are. How badly you need a haircut, but how I don't want to cut your hair, because you'll look too old. (Oy vey, tears. Really? I need to get to bed...)

Anyways -- I speak for your daddy and I when I say that we are thankful, thankful, thankful for you. It's cliche, but if you ever read this, you won't care. Kids want to hear how much their parents love them, right?

Right.

So, we love you. THIIIIIIIIIS MUCH. {{stretches arms out as wide as possible}}

(whenever I do that, you look at me sideways, giggle, and go back to playing with your trucks. all business.)

Love,

your momma.

p.s. here are a few pictures of some other things I'm thankful for. (I'm grateful for big, obvious things too, of course... but I'm also thankful that I've got the ability to be thankful for funny socks, and coffee, and big plans for a mantle that really don't mean too much in the light of eternity... and yet, they're still gifts, given to be enjoyed. What a huge blessing...

Ok, sorry. On to the funny sock picture...)

monday morning

2011-11-21T10:16:00.001-06:00

Monday's not hitting me too hard this morning. We left Charlie with my in-laws over the weekend, and I missed him. I didn't expect it -- FREEDOM FROM BABYVILLE had been calling my name all last week (it was a rough one) -- but all day Saturday, I heard his little voice in my head whenever we saw a Christmas tree (his current obsession), or when I watched little kids dancing at the wedding reception ("Marty! That'll be him someday. Awwwww!").

So today, when he woke up and climbed onto my lap with a book, I melted, and we snuggled.

Apparently, getaways are good for a mommy's soul.

A few other items of note:

I really need to get new mascara (anyone have any good recommendations?). My current brand runs into my eyes and BURNS, causing giant, painful teardrops at the most inopportune times... like, for example, during the bride and groom's first dance on Saturday night. Yep, it sure was a touching moment. But the DJ was giving me the weirdest looks, because I was wiping my eyes and sniffling and blubbering all over the place. (It HURT. Stupid mascara.) Marty was shooting from another angle on the other side of the dance floor -- he came up to me later and said, "Wow, hun. You ok?"

Curse you, cheap tube of mascara.

Here's another good one: The night before the wedding, we ran over to the 24-hour WalMart at midnight because I needed a pair of pants for the next day. (I brought a skirt, but the forecast was chilly and windy. Not conducive to skirt-wearing.) Typically, I really, really dislike WalMart. (Trying to avoid the "hate" word here, but it's a close one.) Not for snobby reasons. (I've heard people say they won't shop there because of white trash, or because it smells bad. oh PLEASE.) Nope, it's not that. WalMart and I have a history of bad run-ins. I can never find what I want. I always run into crabby people there. The lines are long. Charlie threw his first shopping tantrum in a WalMart checkout line. etc. etc. (So really, WalMart, don't take it personally. It's not you. It's me.)

Anyways, I found one (count it -- ONE) pair of pants that might work. There were two different sizes that could have fit me... and no one in the place who could open the stinkin' dressing room. (It's midnight, people. Come on, WalMart employees, get on it. Doesn't everyone go shopping pants-shopping at WalMart, at MIDNIGHT?)

So, I bought the smaller size.

(Wrong move, chica. Lay off the pop tarts.)

I wore my skirt the next day.

And that, my friends, is the sum total of my slightly-awkward weekend wedding moments.

Wedding pictures, coming up soon!

on: how I don't have it all together.

2011-11-17T11:11:00.001-06:00

See this bowl? I really love this bowl. It was a wedding gift from a sweet coworker. It's been on my table ever since we got married. I really love this bowl. (Did I mention I really love this bowl?)

I think God noticed my love affair with that silly bowl, and decided He needed to teach me a teensy lesson. But first, a quick side-story.

I've been reading Loving the Little Years: Motherhood in the Trenches. It's so, so good. Reading it makes me feel like I can do this whole momma thing. I got to this chapter where the author talks about stopping sibling fights (as if that's a problem for us right now... still, I liked what she had to say). Basically, instead of sending kids to their respective corners when they're fighting over a toy, or trying to get the "He Said, She Said" story out of each individual... what this mommy does (my paraphrase) is talk to them about the importance of people over things. She says that the emphasis should be placed on "maintaining fellowship" with each other -- and so, she asks her children, "Is that toy worth breaking fellowship with your brother/sister?" or "Isn't your sister/brother more valuable than that toy?" The point is, considering others is more important than getting your own way.

Alright. Back to the bowl.

Marty was fixing our dining room light the other night. He was fiddling with the cord, doing some rewiring. And then, CRASH! Down came the (heavy) chandelier. Right onto our dining room table. And, fatefully, sitting on top of our table was the aforementioned bowl... except now, it was shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.

My reaction was a bad one. I'll spare you the details.

But listen, here's the point: I was all proud of myself after reading that chapter in the book. "I'll just file that tidbit away for when my kids are fighting over a toy. Come on, kids. This is an important life lesson. No breaky-breaky the fellowship between you two. Cut it out, grow up, etc. etc. {all said in a wise, sage-like parental way}."

And here I was. Breaking fellowship with my husband, over a broken bowl.

I'm not sure how to wrap this story up... except to tell you that my love of pretty things is now

(1) out in the open,

(2) one of my vices,

(3) in the works of changing.

Because people (particularly, husbands) are much more important than things.

Glad we got that all cleared up.

Also. If you happen to see a bowl like the one above... don't tell me about it. I'll be buying something unbreakable, or very ugly, instead :)

an introduction.

2011-11-15T11:27:00.001-06:00

I met Cathia during a one-semester stint at Olivet Nazarene University. We were both living on the same floor in the upper-classmen dorm. I was on my way to the dining hall with a friend, and as we passed Cathia's room, I saw her sitting at her desk, laptop open in front of her. "Hey," I said, feeling uncharacteristically nosy. "Want to go eat dinner?"

"Sure," she said.

And with that profound exchange of words, our friendship was forged forever.

I ended up switching my major twice during my time at Olivet (twice! in one semester!). The downside was, it was really stressful. The upside was, I ended up transferring into a lit class that Cathia was taking. Twice a week, before listening to our sweet prof talk about American Literature, we'd have cheeseburgers and fries together at the Tiger Grill. (They were, for real, the world's greatest cheeseburgers. I can still taste their greasy goodness. I should mention, that's also the semester I gained the Sophomore Sixty...)

Over burgers and fries, we'd talk. Cathia was in a photography class, and she'd tell me about how her prof hated pictures of leaves... because in the fall, that's the only thing students took pictures of. (That's stuck with me for forever.) Cathia is in the Air Force, and at the time, she had already been deployed once to Iraq. We'd talk about what it was like, living over there. She told me about giant tarantulas that lived in her tent. I cried.

Cathia introduced me to Tomb Raider and Cirque de Soleil, and I introduced her to the fact that girlie girls could successfully play hockey. We rode around in her sporty Honda (as opposed to my sporty Crown Victoria).

We decided to get "involved" on campus, and joined the Olivet Geological Society. It was basically a bunch of science majors who got together in a gloomy lab and talked about rocks, but they told us they'd plan camping trips, so we signed up together. Tents! Camping! Adventure! Oh yeah, we were cool now. Except, when time came to actually camp with said Geological Society... Cathia couldn't go. (She was "busy." Right. I still don't believe it.) As a consolation, Cathia lent me her military boots for the trip. They inspired a bit of courage in my timid literary self... and so, I went alone -- a weekend camping trip with a bunch of science majors. (We ended up sleeping all piled into one tent, because the temps dropped below freezing at night. It was the BEST. EVER.)

So, you know, Cathia and I have a long history together...

And now, this Saturday, I get to shoot her wedding.

{Insert a thousand exclamation points here.}

The end.

How to help a mom with a sick baby

2011-11-14T06:00:00.000-06:00

If you're a parent, you know the signs. Runny nose. Tears, for no reason at all. Eye- or ear-rubbing. Sleeplessness. When Charlie's about to get sick, I can see it coming from a mile away... and, did I mention that I want to run a mile away? Caring for a sick baby is hard. (Or, at least my baby is hard. I've heard of other kids that just want to snuggle the day away whenever they get sick. Ha. Ha. Ha.)

And so, from my own experience, I've come up with a list of a few ways you could help out a mom with a sick child, should you ever feel inclined to do so:

*Offer to come over and hold her little one while she gets a bit of a break. (Lots of times, sick kids just want someone to snuggle with them or occupy them, and if they're not partial to momma, anyone with creativity can fit the bill. Stack blocks. Draw pictures. Make a tent. Play with the knob on the humidifier.)

*Bring momma a {large} cup of coffee. (Bring a donut, too. At least, I'd want a donut. I love donuts.)

Wow. Moving on...

*The one's simple: Send her a text, write her a card, pound out an e-mail... It always helps moms (and dads) to know that they're not alone.

*Bring her flowers. Flowers make lots of things better. They're pretty, and they smell good. Enough said.

*Go to the dollar store. Buy a bunch of little novelty toys. Bring them over to Mom-with-Sick-Child's house. (New toys are really helpful when kids are sick -- they're looking for distractions, and there's nothing more distracting than a handful of parachute army guys, or a wacko light-up toy that runs into the wall. Trust me. Mom-with-Sick-Child will thank you, even if you think it's weird.)

*Clean the bathroom. Or the kitchen. When someone's sick in my house, the first thing to go is the housework. If someone came over and cleaned my sink (when I wasn't looking, since I probably wouldn't let them if I caught them), well, I'd be really happy. So happy, in fact, that I'd kiss their toes, or do some other random awkward/extravagant thing.

*Call and see if she needs anything from the drugstore. I'm always out of baby tylenol. Seriously. I buy boxes and boxes of the stuff, and I'm still out of it when I need it. And taking a sick baby out for a Target run is probably just about as much fun as trying to brush a piranha's teeth. (As in, not fun at all. Sorry, weird analogy.)

I wish someone would have given me a list like this before I had kids, because (1) I'd know what to expect when my own kids got sick (i.e., REMEMBER TO STOCK UP ON TYLENOL, SILLY WOMAN), and (2) it would have started me thinking about ways to bless other people. (I was ridiculously self-absorbed before I had kids -- another way God has used Charlie to change me for the better!)

Any other ideas that you can think of? I'd love to hear them.

Happy Monday :)

parks, procrastination, and so on

2011-11-11T08:59:00.001-06:00

The work you do while you procrastinate

is probably the work you should be doing

for the rest of your life.

-Jessica Hische

(That little quote is code for, "I'm procrastinating, but I don't feel very bad about it.")

It's silly, but I sometimes forget to take pictures of my own family. (I've talked to other photographer-people, and they say the same thing.) And so, with big, nerdy excitement, I'm posting these pictures that Marty and I took at Charlie's favorite park, just the other day. I love them, because they pretty much capture what Charlie and I do most of the day... minus the whining and crying, of course.

(Charlie's whining and crying, that is. Not mine. Oh dear.)

In case you need a reminder...

2011-11-06T12:07:00.000-06:00

How to "enjoy your kids"

2011-10-29T14:40:00.000-05:00

"Enjoy your kids now. They grow up so fast."

Every time someone says those words to me, I usually have one of three mental reactions, depending on my emotional/spiritual state at the time (and whether or not I've gotten "pee pee'd" on yet that day):

(1) nod and say, "Wow, you're right. Thanks for the reminder."

(2) cock my head to the side and say, "And how exactly would you recommend that I do that?"

(3) hand my son off to them and say, "Here, YOU enjoy him for an hour. I'm going shopping."

I'm joking (about #3... sort of...), but Humor is good friends with Honesty, right? In other words, I'm laughing, but I mean it. How am I supposed to enjoy my child's childhood if I can't get past the dirty dishes, diapers, tantrums, un-plannable schedules, constant loads of laundry, lost sleep, crabbiness, etc. etc. etc. etc. etc.?

Sometimes, your kids get to you. (And I only have one. Oh brother. Moms and dads of two kids or more are rolling their eyes right about now...)

I'm twenty-six years old. I like skinny jeans, and stilettos, and vanilla lattes, and practicing the guitar, and salsa dancing, and staying up past 10 p.m. to finish the delicious book I picked up the other day. But I've also got a toddler, and so my likes and preferences are sometimes necessarily postponed, or adjusted, to fit the needs of my family. It's how it is (and yep, it is good)... but it's also hard to enjoy it. I'm good at faking it ("Ohhh, YES, Charlie and I just frolicked the day away. We are awesome, La La La!!!"), but not always so good at meaning it.

And so, just in case anyone else ever feels remotely the way I do, I've been working on a list of ways to really enjoy my baby boy. Granted, he's a 1-year-old, so this list will obviously look different for someone who has an infant, or a 3-year-old, or a 13-year-old. But, for what it's worth, here's what I've got:

*Have a tickle-fest when he's cranky. (Does this work with any other kids? Charlie's got such a one-track-mind that he can go from "MOMMY = DISLIKE" to "MOMMY = TICKLE = GOOD!!!!" in three seconds flat.)

*When you're in the middle of something, and he's whining and pulling on your pants, get down on the floor and play with him for ten minutes. Often, just sitting down and getting at his eye level gives him the attention he needs. (Sometimes, if I'm cooking or stirring things in a bowl, I'll get my stuff and put it on the floor, and let him help me.)

*Make a rockin' "to-do with my little guy" list, and pick something once a week. (Make Paper Airplanes. Take a Train Ride. Go to Starbucks, Buy Coffee For Me and Milk for Him. Go To an Art Museum and See How Long We Last Before We Get Kicked Out.) I try to tell myself, "Geez louise, woman, it's a gift to stay at home with your kids. Start acting like it."

*Go to a toy store and run around, pushing all the obnoxious toy buttons. (Charlie hasn't yet figured out that it's possible to actually take toys home with you. We'll see how long that lasts...)

*Keep a journal of all the funny things he does and says. (I'm terrible at writing in it, but I love looking back and seeing how much I've already forgotten about. Like when we got tired of him grunting in the car whenever he didn't like the song that was on, so we taught him how to say "Please," and now, all we hear in the car is, "Please. Please. Please. Please. PLEASE. PLEASE. PLEEEEEEEEEEEASE.")

*Make a baby box. Put his first shoes, his first haircut (is it weird that I kept his hair? oh dear.), his first whatever, inside and then ooooh and aaaah about how big he's getting.

*List the ways you've changed for the better since you've had kids.

*Go to the park. Play until he's ready to leave.

*Give him rides down the hallway in the laundry basket. (If you have wood floors, put a towel underneath, or else you'll scratch your floors. Ooops.)

*Pick a random, everyday-day, and take a picture every hour, from the moment you wake up until the moment you go to sleep. Print the pictures out, stick them in an album, and write little captions. (You'll probably treasure this in the years to come -- or at least, your kids will. I'd love to have something like this from my mom, when I was a baby.)

There's so much more, but that should get me (and you) started. I'd love to hear your ideas, too -- how do you spend time enjoying your kids? How do you savor the moments you have with them, instead of just barreling through your steroid-pumped to-do list like a crazy person, running around with baby under one arm and laundry basket under the other? (Or, um, is that just me?)

At the end of the day, I'm learning that "enjoying Charlie" means putting his best interests first, ahead of my own. It's hard, and tiring, and Marty and I still get that cock-eyed stare from people who say, "Umm, you're not convincing us that having kids is any fun."

Fun?

If you want "Fun," go ride a roller coaster. (sheesh, you people.)

If you want "unforgettable, life-changing, incredible-and-horrible-and-wonderful, all at the same time"... well then, have a baby.

(And then, enjoy it. I hear it doesn't last forever.)

tube socks, part 2

2011-10-25T13:01:00.002-05:00

I'm a sucker for little-boy tube-sock pictures of my husband.

Here's another one.

You have to squint (sorry), but there's little Marty on the left, fooling around with some giant cannon. (That's his dad on the right.) I love this picture. It tells me a lot about the special relationship my husband has with his dad, and I see a lot of Charlie in his daddy's little-boy grin.

Marty found this print recently, buried in a stack of old papers, and I went out and bought a frame for it. ($1.99 at Ikea. watch out -- BIG SPENDER ALERT.)

With the rise of the digital camera, we've gained convenience and speed, but we've lost a lot, too. Who prints out their pictures anymore? Instead of hard copies that I can hold in my hand, I've got millions of invisible files, taking up literally no space (that I can see)... and that's exactly the problem. I can't see them. We take our pictures, upload them, and poof! ...they're gone.

And so, I'm going out and buying more frames. (more BIG SPENDING. watch out, Ikea.) I'm putting up pictures, and pointing out faces to our little guy. We'll be praying for the people on our walls, smiling as we remember moments that a camera captured... aaand this is starting to sound like a Hallmark commercial.

(Minus the praying.)

I'm done.

becca and nate :: engaged!

2011-10-18T23:21:00.000-05:00

I've only met them twice, but I really like Becca and Nate. Here are some reasons why:

(1) They like hockey.

(2) They have the cool vibe. (you know. the cool vibe.)

(3) They're Mac-users.

(4) They're getting married in the mountains.

(5) They're both youth pastors. (= they love Jesus.)

(6) Becca has impeccable taste in shoes. (Particularly, red ones.)

I told you they were cool.

On Saturday, we walked around downtown Stillwater, MN (for those of you Chicago-ans who don't know about Stillwater, it's like this cutesy small-town-downtown area that's just really beautiful), and then headed over to the Stone Arch Bridge in Minneapolis.

The weather was perfect.

And Becca and Nate are excellent smile-ers.

And so, it was the best.

{favorite. right here.}

** click here *** for their slideshow!

the plug.

2011-10-17T06:00:00.000-05:00

Charlie likes his pluggy

like I like my coffee.

{as in, inside his mouth, all the time.}

In the grocery store the other day,

I noticed an older woman giving Charlie and I a good stare down.

Normally, when someone has something positive to say, they'll just say it.

If it's negative, they'll avert their eyes after they notice that you've noticed them.

This woman looked at Charlie.

Then at his plug.

Then at me.

And then {harrrumph} away.

Oh brother.

Yes, my son is almost two, and still sucks on a pacifier.

Leave me alone.

I like that he takes long naps when he's got his pluggy in,

and furthermore,

I'll be the one paying for his braces,

thank you vurrrrry much.

(and so, happy monday!)

my house {the pretty parts}

2011-10-14T06:00:00.000-05:00

Everyone's got an ugly place in their house.

Ours is the basement.

yuck.

My challenge {to myself} is this:

find the pretty places instead,

and ignore the ugly ones.

And so, here are a few of my pretty places:

happy friday...

{happy weekend! ! !}

1:24 p.m.

2011-10-13T12:57:00.002-05:00

warming up my coffee

for the third time today

because baby

refuses

link love

2011-10-11T07:00:00.001-05:00

We're in the middle of a busy week around here (partially because we're getting ready for an even busier weekend). Rather than bore you with the particulars, here are a few {random} things that have been particularly inspiring to me over the past few weeks:

These cookies will change your life -- most notably, because (1) you probably have all the ingredients on hand, and (2) they take 15 total minutes to make. Fifteen minutes to the greatest cookie you've ever eaten? Count me in.

Check out this creative mom's guide to a home planner -- organized, simple, and put-together. The cleaning checklist alone has literally changed my life (and I'm not saying that lightly).

This is lame... but I really want one of these. I just read a book on how to sneak healthy food into your child's "favorites" (like mac n' cheese). FOOD WARS are alive and well in our house, and so, a decent food processor is a must. (And it helps that it comes in a cute red...)

Whenever I get in a photographic slump, I head over here. There's good work here, and lots of inspiration to keep. taking. pictures.

I echo these beautiful sentiments exactly... except we only have one baby :)

Happy Tuesday!

blue hats

2011-10-10T07:00:00.001-05:00

I think that before you become a parent, you've got an unconscious, mental list of images that define what you think parenting is like:

(1) holding your baby for the first time and realizing, "Wow, this baby is MINE."

(2) teaching your little one how to walk, ride a bike, or tie their shoes.

(3) experiencing lots of "firsts" with your child: their first snowfall, their first view of the ocean, their first time seeing Christmas lights.

Once your child actually arrives, you realize that, while occasionally parenting can be like that, most of the time parenting is made up of more menial tasks -- changing diapers, figuring out how to get another strong-willed human being to eat nutritional food, finding matching socks, saving your little one's life for the thousandth time that day. These are the things of parenting. The other stuff -- the special stuff you wait for, those milestone moments that most people long for -- those things come, but they're interspersed with the everyday tasks, like pepper specks in a bowl of clam chowder. They add spice... but they can be few and far between, compared to the thick, chunky broth called life.

I'm waxing poetic here, because these pictures are from one of those special moments -- few and far between, but something that makes everything else absolutely, positively worth it.

It was a sunny weekend afternoon, and Charlie eagerly wanted to help his daddy fix something... except this time, he stuck with his daddy until the project was finished, and -- get this -- they wore matching hats while they worked.

And that... well, that just made me smile, really big.

cloth diapers: an insider's guide

2011-10-07T16:32:00.002-05:00

Fair warning.

This post uses the word "Poop" and "Stupid," and I talk about gross things.

Don't eat a brownie and read this.

Also, don't read this if you're already, or think you may someday be, afraid of babies.

My intention is never to make anyone not like babies.

I'll admit it: I use cloth diapers.

{sheesh. is this starting to sound like a mom blog or what?}

Before we start here, let me clarify something.

I am not a proud member of Cloth Diaper Mommas, Ltd.

Some of my friends love (LOVE) cloth diapers.

I do not.

I like them. I deal with them. And I love what they save me:

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

So, here's my story:

When I was pregnant, I first heard of cloth diapers from one of my coworkers {and now, dear friend}, Monica. I was skeptical. She, also pregnant at the time, was optimistic and motivated {two qualities I love about her, and, coincidentally, two characteristics that are relatively necessary for anyone inclined to attempt cloth diapering}. Her optimism/motivation rubbed off on me, and we started saving our pennies for the initial investment in diapers. {Cloth diapers run about $16+ a pop, brand new. yikes.}

We took a trip to a local diaper store two weeks after Charlie was born {He screamed the entire time we were there. It was our first family outing. It was terrifying, and hilarious.}, where we discovered Flip diapers. Basically, these aren't your grandmomma's cloth diapers -- you tuck a microfiber liner inside a waterproof cover, snap it shut, and BOOM, you're done. {That is, until you have to change it. That's another story.} But the Flips were cheap (compared to other cloth diapers) and user-friendly, and they "grew" with Charlie -- we've been using the same diapers since he was two months old, and it's looking like they'll last until he's potty trained (which, my friends, won't be anytime soon).

Here's what the waterproof liner looks like:

(Don't be intimidated by all the snaps; you get the hang of it eventually.)

And here's what the inside looks like, with the liner tucked in:

Now, most people are pretty passionate about this issue (either FOR, or AGAINST it). But, like I said earlier, we're just in it for the money. {Doesn't that sound terrible? What I should say is -- there's other things we'd prefer to spend our money on, rather than disposable diapers that just end up rotting in a landfill somewhere. Pleasant thought. Gross thought. Sorry!}

I wish I could tell you that I'm only doing it to help the environment... but I'm not. (I'd rather recycle everything I own, or only take showers once a week, or make a compost pile.) Yep, it's nice to think that I'm not contributing to smelly, stinky garbage piles. However, there are days when Charlie poops, and it's POOP {moms and dads, you KNOW WHAT I MEAN}, and I'm like, "Forget it. This sixteen-dollar diaper is going in the GARBAGE. MARTY, BRING ME THE PAMPERS."

But then, I clean the stupid diaper out (we're proud owners of a diaper sprayer), and throw the nasty thing in the laundry, and it comes out clean. And then, I take a deep breath, and carry on. Cloth diapering and I coexist for another day.

It's not for everyone. Moms who work outside the home would probably have a hard time getting their childcare provider on board with this one. People who throw up easily might not be able to handle it. {Advocates for cloth diapering argue that "you have to touch poop already. It's not a big deal." Well, they're sort of right, and sort of wrong. I've changed many diapers in my life, but never before have I had to scrape poop out from underneath my fingernails.}

Wow. This is getting yuckier by the minute.

But, because I take care of Charlie myself, and because I have the time and resources to devote to it... we do it. {Marty washes out the diapers too. He is amazing, and awesome, and I don't think he's ever complained about it.} And so, our pediatrician calls them "cadillac diapers," and we get funny looks, and yes, we use disposable diapers sometimes because we need a BREAK.

But, besides all of that, it's been a great experience for us.

And Charlie rocks the diaper poses, when I ask him to show them off:

the night we {and our boat motor} almost died

2011-10-05T10:08:00.001-05:00

I've got a lot to do today, but I haven't posted in awhile... so here's a random story from our recent trip to northern Minnesota, to tide you over until I come up with something, you know, really good. {Warning: this story is completely anti-climactic. Also, I'm writing it in a hurry, while Charlie is napping, when I should be cleaning or something...}

The Night We {and our boat motor} Almost Died

On one of the last nights of vacation, my sister Anna, her husband Steve, Marty, and I decided to go on a little evening fishing trip. We put Charlie to bed, gave the baby monitor to a very sweet, obliging cousin, and set off. Steve is the outdoorsman of the group -- he rigged up our poles for Walleye fishing, and we headed out to the great expanse of Voyageur National Park.

After a 10-minute boat ride, we made it to "the spot" -- 70 feet of water, right in the middle of a giant lake. We were far, far, far from any shoreline (this is important to note for later), right on top of a reef where walleye typically hang out. Because walleye, they like reefs. {See, you didn't even know you'd be learning how to fish when you came over to this little blog today, didja?}

The sun was setting. The fish weren't biting. But it was gorgeous.

We moved to a different spot, because, well, that's what you do when the fish don't bite. {Again -- more with the fishin' learnin'. You'll be a pro in no time...}

Here's Marty and Steve -- it's a terrible picture, but it shows that they were intent. on. catching. fish.

...While I was taking pictures of my shoes, and singing songs to the hypothetical fish in the water.

And then, in the distance, as the sun was setting, we saw it.

A wall of clouds, coming in from Canada.

At first, we were like, "Oh hey, see that lightning way far off over there? Cool."

And then, a few minutes later,

"Oh hey, see that lightning, like A MILE AWAY?"

{This picture doesn't capture the clouds correctly. They were scary, and dark, and loooooming, and filled with lightning and thunder. GAH.}

And then, as the sun was setting...

we went to move to yet another spot...

and the boat motor wouldn't start.

This was our family's boat, the boat we grew up with. I KNEW this boat. The motor never made that noise.

Marty, a brilliant mechanical genius, tried to figure it out. So did Steve {the avid outdoorsman}. Anna even took the lid off the motor, just to, you know, see what was going on. I just started hyperventilating, and then I dug through the entire cabin, looking for the flare gun and a set of paddles. {for the record, there was no flare gun, and only one paddle. rock on.}

Meanwhile, the storm is rolling in. And it's dark. And we're in the middle of a national park, without a radio.

Did I mention that we didn't even tell anyone where we were going?

On a lake that's 212,000 acres, that's KIND OF A PROBLEM, if you're stalled and it's dark and a massive storm is coming in.

And, remember how far we were from the shoreline? Yes. Ohhhh yes.

Here was my most-flattering reaction:

We started up the trolling motor {which will propel your boat at a rate of .000000002 miles per hour}, and promptly began spinning in circles.

Mind you, no one was freaking out, except me,

because I was envisioning spending the night on the shoreline {if we ever made it there}

with bears,

and a massive storm,

and a dead boat.

And I was wearing my skinny jeans {really, what was I thinking?!},

so I was clearly NOT equipped to survive in the wilderness for a night...

even though I'm married to an Eagle Scout, who was sitting right next to me and wasn't worried a bit.

And then.....

after twenty minutes of scary silence.............

TRIUMPH! The boat motor STARTED!!!

We raced home.

{Steve wanted to stay out and fish. He is nuts.}

{Yeah, see those clouds? Yikes.}

We pulled in to the lodge, just before the storm hit.

And then I was sort of sad,

because the story might have been better,

if I could have talked about spending the night on the lake

with bears,

and a dead boat,

and skinny jeans,

and my sister, and her husband, and my husband...

But then I thought about the bears,

and the massive size of the 212,000 acre lake...

and I was very glad that we were safe, indeed :)

p.s. I might have to ask my sister Anna to write her version of the story.

It might differ slightly from my own...

a week's summary, in one picture.

2011-10-01T06:00:00.000-05:00

Let's play I-Spy:

Used tissues.

Coffee.

Baby monitor {with a low battery}.

White-out, red pen, post-its.

Chicago Manual of Style, 16th ed.

Bible.

Flowers.

{not pictured}

cold medicine.

toddler, adamantly refusing to take naps.

6 piles of laundry.

Alicen :: lovely

2011-09-30T07:00:00.000-05:00

Little sisters are usually much cooler than big sisters.

I think it's because they look at their older sister's unfortunate mistakes,

and resolve not to do the same.

This is my youngest sister, Alicen.

These are her eighth grade graduation pictures.

And, let me tell you,

my eighth grade pictures looked nothing like this.

{I'd show you pictures of what I looked like when I was in 8th grade,

but I burned all of them.

Just kidding.

But nope, you can't see them.}

This girl is amazing. She's hilarious, and beautiful, and she's really smart.

She's the best friend you could ever have.

She loves babies, and doggies, and her family.

She's ridiculously great at the piano.

She's a soccer star.

She pretty much gets 1st place in everything she does. {I am not exaggerating.}

And -- most importantly -- she loves Jesus. A lot.

It's all over her face.

Did I mention she's a killer dancer?

K-I-L-L-E-R

D-A-N-C-E-R.

In summary,

my sister is awesome.

And,

if you are a boy, and you're anywhere near her age, and you're reading this:

GO AWAY.

{you can come back in 30 years.}

mighty little micah

2011-09-29T20:06:00.000-05:00

This is my cousin's son, Micah.

He was born nearly two months before his due date,

and he is a little miracle bundle.

I got to hold him for about thirty seconds yesterday,

before my own {mammoth-sized} baby started screaming.

It was bliss.

{Micah with his great-grandmother.}

hello June

2011-09-28T23:14:00.001-05:00

I just came across a memory card with these pretty pictures on it -- I took them right before Matt & Liz's wedding, right at the beginning of June. These are my front porch flowers, when they were at their very prettiest... because, if I've learned anything, it's that colorful plants and I do not get along, no sir-ee. Give me a shrub, or a tree, or a potted, plain green plant any day, rather than a pot of marigolds.

Because, you see, I have a superpower: I'll kill the pot of marigolds, simply by looking at them.

These pictures serve another purpose {besides reminding me of my poor gardening skills}. Can't tell you how many times I've heard the words, "September already? October around the corner? Really? Where'd the summer go?" My favorite months of the year are already gone, and the cool, dark days of fall and winter are here again. But wait -- blink -- and it'll be April... May... and then June again... and I'll be back on my porch with an armful of annuals, hoping that I bought enough MiracleGro this time around.

James describes life as "a vapor that appears for awhile and then vanishes away." Like the summer that melts into fall that melts into winter, days pass slowly but years fly quickly.

And so, I'm asking myself these questions today:

What am I doing that really matters?

Those things that I'm so carefully planning on my to-do list

-- today, tomorrow, next week, next year --

will these things matter for eternity?

Am I just living for the here and now?

Or am I investing in something bigger than myself?

backyard tomato picking, in pictures

2011-09-23T06:00:00.000-05:00

I wasn't going to write anything in this post -- the pictures speak for themselves -- but I should say two things.

(1) As a novice gardener, I've learned a new, painfully-obvious concept: only plant vegetables that you enjoy eating. This year, I planted mostly tomatoes... and while they're typically a go-to, easy-peasy sort of plant in the midwest, I don't happen to like them. This is definitely a problem, especially when I don't have time for canning and such. Oops.

(2) No matter how grody and rotten a tomato may be, never throw it in the presence of your 1-year-old. Said 1-year-old will mimic you happily, and your good tomatoes will start to disappear...

Which, I suppose, would certainly take care of observation #1.

Lydia!

2011-09-21T11:12:00.001-05:00

One of my earliest memories of my friendship with Lydia: pranking a coworker's office by turning his books around -- hundreds and hundreds of them -- so that their spines faced the wall and their pages faced outward. {Did I mention that this coworker was also my boss at the time? Oh yeah. Clearly, I was not a very bright 21-year-old editorial assistant.}

Lydia is fun. She's an east coast girl, living in the heart of the Midwest. An author and editor, Lydia is currently putting the finishing touches on her seventh book, due out next spring. She's also a speaker at conferences across the nation -- so when she asked me to do a few updated headshots, I was excited! Flattered! Nervous! {Because, WOW, what if my pictures STINK?}

I'm happy to report... the pictures do NOT stink -- wink -- and here's why: Lydia also happens to be a natural in front of the camera. She was completely at ease the entire time we were shooting, which tells me what I already knew about her: she's confident about who she is and what she does, which comes from being rooted in a strong, deep faith in Jesus. {I love that.}

So, meet Lydia -- writer, editor, conference speaker extraordinaire, my sweet friend, and all-around superwoman :)

how to paint a bookshelf

2011-09-19T06:00:00.000-05:00

Have you ever made your way over to Young House Love?

You may have noticed them on my sidebar...

If you're into home improvement and decorating on a budget,

you should definitely take a look.

Marty groans inwardly whenever he sees me perusing their lovely blog,

because he knows full well that I'll have an itch to

PAINT SOMETHING

REARRANGE SOMETHING

BUILD SOMETHING!!

as soon as I walk away from the computer.

I ambled my way over to their blog a few weeks ago

{if "ambling" is possible on the internet},

and re-read this great tutorial on how to paint pretty much any piece of furniture.

{This is where Marty closed his eyes and did that inward groan thing again.}

And then, my eyes spotted two bookshelves that have been in our house since the beginning.

Marty rescued them out of a dumpster {truly},

and they've been sitting in our living room and kitchen, useful and happy...

Except now, I'd decided that they were going to be pretty, too :)

I didn't take "before" pictures.

But trust me. They were ugly-ish.

You see, I'm not a fan of orange-y colored wood,

and that's exactly what these babies were made of:

So, I dragged them down to the basement

and gave them each two coats of primer...

{which was agonizing. I'm a very impatient painter.}

Then, I painted them a soft beige,

the same color as our living room walls.

{which means the paint was free = bonus}

Here's one bookshelf in our kitchen.

Note: the second shelf is empty, because it's at Charlie's eye level.

I had these really cute storage jars there before,

but you can imagine what curious little fingers did to my really cute storage jars.

Now, it's a shelf for his snack bowls :)

And here's the other shelf in our living room.

Voila!

Instant {er, sort of} transformation,

that should have cost me nothing...

except I bought these silly sponge rollers, thinking that they would make everything go faster,

and they didn't.

Still... $3.95 for non-orange bookshelves is a superb deal :)

Now, did you check out Young House Love yet?

You probably should.

Just ask your non-decorating-inclined significant other to close their eyes...

read this, and be changed

2011-09-15T15:12:00.000-05:00

Here's the story behind one of the blogs on my sidebar:

Bringing John Gideon Home

This is my college roommate, Heather {on her wedding day, with her husband, Matt}.

{All photos are taken from Heather's Facebook page -- kudos to the photographer who captured this one!}

Heather is absolutely, 100% even more beautiful on the inside than she is on the outside...

and yessiree, that's saying quite a lot :)

After Haiti suffered a devastating earthquake back in January 2010, Heather and Matt visited New Life Children's Home in Port-au-Prince, in June 2010. There, they met little baby John, a child at the orphanage who was rescued from a remote mountain village following the earthquake.

Heather and Matt decided to adopt John Gideon -- a courageous step of faith, given the many obstacles of the Haitian adoption process. They've got a serious passion for children, though, and an incredible passion for what God can do through an ordinary couple, completely sold out to Him.

This past June, Heather went to live at the orphanage in Haiti, while Matt stays behind in the U.S. She's living at the orphanage, raising her little boy and helping to care for the other children there. Heather and Matt are waiting for the paperwork to go through, so that they can take their son back home.

Would you please, please pray for Heather and Matt, baby John, and New Life Children's Home? They're doing an incredible work down in Haiti -- God is providing in incredible ways, through people who are giving their lives to serve Him. Pray for faith and strength for Heather and Matt, particularly -- that the adoption process would go quickly, and that they would have an unwavering trust in God.

Besides praying... you can also sponsor a child at New Life, or leave an encouraging comment on Heather's blog!

God and beauty

2011-09-14T10:22:00.000-05:00

I came across this verse today, as I started reading through Genesis:

Out of the ground the LORD God made to spring up

every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food.

Genesis 2:9a

I love that verse. Want to know why?

Because it shows that God cares about beauty, not just functionality. Our God created food, but he made it colorful and vibrant. {Can you imagine eating a brown strawberry? Or a black watermelon?} He fashioned creation. He invented different types of wood, species of flowers, colors of the sky. He created peacocks, for pete's sake.

Sometimes I feel like photography, or paint colors, or home decor stores are a waste of time... and, granted, they absolutely can be. {Just ask Charlie and Marty, when we're walking around Homegoods yet again...} Balance is important, of course. But there's also incredible value in spending your time working on creating beautiful art, whether it be editing a photograph, dreaming up a landscaping design, painting a canvas, or arranging artwork on a living room wall.

Its valuable, because it's something God values.

And that, my friends, makes me very, very happy.

how to buy awesome furniture

2011-09-11T21:45:00.002-05:00

If you live in the Chicagoland area,

check out Jubilee Furniture.

They're located in a big old warehouse-ish building

on the corner of North Avenue and Schmale in Carol Stream.

And really, you should go there.

Did I mention you should go there?

Seriously... you should go there.

I'm not sure how I stumbled upon their blog,

or where I even heard about them,

but a couple of years ago, I wandered into their store on a Friday afternoon...

and I was happily, permanently hooked :)

The place is big, and it's filled with furniture.

Beautiful, used, discounted, heavenly FURNITURE!

Sure: because they're reliant solely on their donors,

they've got a few couches with grandma-style ruffles that rock plaid like it's going outta style...

{nothing against plaid-and-ruffle-couches, mind you}

But, Jubilee also has brand-name, like-new furniture

that's absolutely gorgeous.

It'll make you kiss your overpriced-furniture-showroom-shopping-days goodbye.

And better yet {for all you bargain hunters out there},

they get new items in every week.

You can check out their blog at 8am on Friday morning

{like I do ~~religiously/without fail~~ once in awhile... if I remember...}.

Plus, anything you buy there benefits Outreach Community Ministries,

a wonderful Christian non-profit organization serving the western suburbs of Chicago.

{you know, in case you need a bit of leverage with your hypothetical husband,

who wants to know why you're buying -- yes dear -- another armchair...}

I should probably also say that I don't really know anyone at Jubilee,

and no one's paying me to say this

{although my mention of the grandma-style-ruffle-couches should speak for itself?}

...I'm just a big, nerdy fan.

Did I mention they have free cookies for hungry little one-year-olds?

Those cookies buy me at least five more minutes in the store,

which is awesome.

Here's a Room&Board chair that we picked up last weekend.

The pricetag? $125!

{we used to have a white chair in its place.

but, the color white and one-year-olds in general are horrible, ancient enemies...

hence, the brown, stain-hiding color of our beautiful new chair. ta-daa!}

We got this bedroom dresser from Jubilee about a year ago.

I can't remember, but I think it was $80? Maybe $75?

The handles were a brassy-bronze color,

so I took them off, spray-painted them a metallic silver,

and popped them back on.

Voila! Instant update!

And... remember this couch?

I went nuts on it when I was pregnant.

It was rockin' the tweedy-plaid pattern when we brought it home from Jubilee.

{I bought because it was a twin-size pullout, which is AWESOME!}

Anyways, I didn't like the plaid,

so I reupholstered it Sherah-style {i.e., I made it all up as I went along}.

It's weathered these past two years pretty well for a DIY upholstery job,

but,

again with the white.

{what was I thinking?}

And so...

I think another trip to Jubilee may be necessary in the near future.

{unless Marty decides to stage an intervention

to save me from my used-furniture-loving self.}

p.s. Jubilee is open on Fridays from 1-8pm

and Saturdays from 9am-4pm.

Happy shopping!

mini series :: sky

2011-09-09T09:54:00.000-05:00

Here's one of the greatest things about being in the middle of nowhere:

The sky is everywhere.

Back here in suburbia, it's masked by trees and buildings.

In the car, I flip down my sun visor and block out the clouds,

concentrating instead on yellow lines and asphalt.

But when I can see clouds roll and billow and swell across the sky,

or a thunderstorm literally rolling in,

or a hundred variations of the color pink, painted into a sunset,

it's breathtaking.

And so, while I really, really like

drive-thru coffee shops,

the grocery store that's right around the corner,

and pretty city lights,

one day,

I'd happily give it up,

just to see something like this

every single morning.

Happy Friday!

beautiful life

2011-09-07T11:51:00.002-05:00

Never lose an opportunity of seeing anything beautiful, for beauty is God's handwriting. Ralph Waldo Emerson

linky-link

2011-09-07T11:48:00.002-05:00

I've added a list on the side column, featuring some {most} of my very favorite blogs that I like to visit weekly, if not daily. In the future, I'll highlight a few of them, but for now, go ahead and give them a click.

{fair warning: some of them are a bit random. I like random!}

Alright. My refrigerator is making weird noises, and I've got maybe five minutes of naptime left... so, here I go!

p.s. Here's my billion-dollar invention idea: create a digital bubble that hangs above a sleeping child's head, and counts down the time until they wake up. How the heck anyone could go about creating such a gadget is beyond me {and probably everyone else}, but hey, I'd pay big bucks to know when my little prince charming is planning on coming back from dreamland...

what do your mornings look like?

2011-09-02T13:43:00.000-05:00

Afternoons are a toss-up.

You'll find us

visiting friends,

grocery shopping,

popping in at Grandma and Grandpa's

{both sets live within 15 minutes of us},

perusing vintage furniture at thrift stores,

playing with trucks and trains,

going to the park,

napping,

folding laundry,

attempting to cook dinner,

etc. etc.

But mornings around here are more consistent.

Here's what our mornings usually look like:

I try hard to read the Bible before Charlie wakes up.

Marty usually leaves for work fairly early.

And then, over the monitor, I hear squawking.

I head down the hall, and find this:

We eat breakfast in the kitchen.

{Note the banana in one hand, momma in the other hand.}

Also, note the little foot, stepping on mine.

It's like he's saying, "Don't go anywhere, Mom. Seriously. Stay RIGHT HERE."

And that is why I don't get much done when my little Charlie is awake.

Oy vey.

A view from the kitchen window.

{Note to self: next year, plant vegetables you actually enjoy eating.}

On to play time.

Charlie is currently fascinated with our DVD collection.

He pops open the cases and says, "C! D!"

And then spins the DVDs around and says, "WHEEEEEE!"

Next up:

run time for mom,

scout-out-the-neighborhood time for Charlie.

Thirty minutes of silence, peppered with little boy exclamations:

"Plane!"

"Train!"

"Whoo whoo!"

"Bus!"

"Doggie!"

"Woof!"

Our jog is usually followed by a morning nap for Charlie,

and a l-a-r-g-e cup of coffee for me.

I look at my to-do list, and then run around like crazy.

I shower. I eat breakfast.

I clean up any little mess piles left behind...

I get a bit of proofreading done

{on this particular day, I was working on a Bible atlas.

cool, right?}

As soon as I hear that little voice over the monitor,

I know I've got maybe five minutes to get ready

before the squawking turns into some serious crabbing.

I try to be totally ready when I go in to get C out of his bed:

We grab some lunch, I throw a diaper in my purse,

and we're out the door!

{Speaking of which...

here's what "out the door" looks like for us.}

Ah.

Yes.

Our front yard looks {and smells} like a barnyard at the moment.

a bit of the weekend, in pictures

2011-08-29T12:19:00.000-05:00

Saturday night:

I'm always amazed at how we rarely venture into Chicago.

{It's right there! It's so close! It's so cool!}

But,

we paid $25

to park our car,

all because I really, really wanted to see the lake.

And then I remember

that I'd much rather spend $25 on anything in the following {non-exhaustive} list:

iTunes music

ice cream

shoes

a haircut

books

sponsoring a child

a birthday present

mascara that doesn't make my eyes burn

multiple giant watermelons

And so, if you have any secrets to parking in the city

{besides taking public transportation,

or parking reallyreallyreallyreally far and walking to where you want to go},

I'm all ears :)

Sunday morning:

A bunch of churches in our town coordinated an outdoor worship service

in the center of the downtown area.

You can read more about it here.

There were hundreds of people,

praising Jesus, praying, and taking communion together.

It was beautiful :)

Here's Charlie after the service, with his beloved Auntie Ali and Uncle "Ed-wart."

Have I mentioned that he acts a bit worried, most of the time?

{I have no idea where he gets it from.

Probably his dad...}

Happy Monday :)

anatomy of a group picture

2011-08-25T20:59:00.001-05:00

When I was a kid, my family used to take the same picture,

at the same restaurant in Florida, every single year.

Those pictures are stacked on my Mom's refrigerator,

and to this very day, I can look at those pictures,

and be reminded that I wore the exact. same. shirt. in at least three of them.

Seeing a visual record of your unusually-long-lasting jr. high awkward stage

every time you walk into your parent's house is just... invigorating.

Moving right along...

My cousin Lydia is a photographer, too.

This year, on our trip to Minnesota,

we pulled over a giant trash can,

set the cameras on timers,

told everyone, "Go stand over there,"

and took pictures.

Maybe you won't appreciate these prep shots as much as I do,

but allow me to point out a few details that might make you smile :)

First, note that my sweet Irish grandmother (front and center, all in red)

has her legs daintily crossed, and is smiling in nearly every picture.

Because, that's just how she is.

Second, note my great-uncle (also Irish), on the left, in the blue sweatshirt,

leaning against the tree.

He's a hoot, and tells some incredible stories about Vietnam.

He's also a slightly awkward Facebook user.

Judging by their faces,

most of the guys are upset about this whole group picture thing.

They're putting up with it 'cause the womenfolk would uproariously protest if they didn't.

{Case in point: my brother Edward's face, front and center, just to the left of Grandma.}

Here's the first picture we took:

notice that Anna and Steve have popped up on the left, over by Uncle Martin.

{They were in the middle of frying fish for everyone when we decided to do this whole thing.}

There I am on the far left, squatting next to Marty and Charlie,

and photographer-cousin Lydia is the pretty blonde on the far right.

And... now, picture #2.

Can you spot the couple making out?

That's how it goes in this family.

Awesome.

By the way,

we taped the whole thing on a Flip videocamera

set up on the garbage can right next to the cameras.

Here's the last two minutes:

FYI: Next year, if I catch myself wearing a purple tank top

and skinny jeans to our group picture fiasco...

I'll be excited that I can still fit into skinny jeans, and we'll call it a day :)

i heart one-year-olds

2011-08-22T15:01:00.001-05:00

Charlie was a tough baby.

He had his sweet moments.

But he was also very difficult.

Because of the tough first year we had with our little guy,

I'm loving him as a one-year-old.

One-year-olds are squishy, and curious, and funny.

They can eat pretty much whatever you eat.

They mimic what you say.

They're learning at a rate of 1,000,000,000 M.P.H.

They say funny things.

{For example, Charlie is always trying to say "Seat."

But his "s" becomes a "sh."

And his "eat" becomes an "it."

Put it together... ... ... ...yeah.

I'm constantly shushing him in the grocery store.}

Anyways...

Above and below are pictures of another adorable, brand-new one-year-old.

She's the daughter of my sweet friend, Heidi.

This little girlie smiles at everything,

which made our little photo shoot easy as pie!

See the tutu Heidi found?

Wowee.

I need to have a little girl,

and I will buy her 10,000 of these cute little tutus.

p.s.

For any photographers/nerds {like myself},

this is the first shoot that I edited completely in Lightroom {as opposed to Photoshop}.

I've got a long ways to go,

but -- can you tell?--

I love the b&w presets.

They are so stinkin' beautiful! :)

And,

since Lightroom costs significantly less than Photoshop,

I'm a huge fan.

family vacay 2011

2011-08-15T21:57:00.000-05:00

I'm a lucky lady.

I've got four separate sets of family,

all incredibly sweet and wonderful

in their own ways :)

Marty's mom's side.

Marty's dad's side.

My dad's side.

And my mom's side.

Every year, in August,

we head up north with my mom's side of the family

to the northwoods of Minnesota:

It's, by far, the best vacation ever.

Maybe, if you're not very "wilderness-y," you might not love it.

But I'm not very "wilderness-y," and I LOVE IT!!!!

I love it even more, because of the people I get to spend the week with:

{...and this is only half of the family.

We were missing the other half, due to jobs, new babies, and some crazy house-buying going on!}

***click here for a slideshow of the week***

{Music for the slideshow comes from my awesome uncle, Phil Berwick! Check out his website:

http://philberwickmusic.com/fr_philberwick.cfm}

a little preview . . .

2011-08-05T20:15:00.000-05:00

Here's a quick peek at what we've been up to this week -- photographically speaking, that is :)

Is there anything better than chubby baby-girl legs in a floofy tutu?
I think not!

on ants, babies, and why it's all worth it

2011-07-27T15:30:00.008-05:00

I woke up yesterday to an ant colony parked right inside (yes, inside) my front door. Hundreds of teensy tiny ants, parading in and out of a small crack (or two, or three) in our threshold. Wonderful, I mused, trying to eradicate the ants while Charlie asked for the "Keeeeessss! Keeeeeessss! KEEEEEEESSSS!" (keys), over and over again. A quick search on the internet told me that white vinegar is a natural ant killer -- and since I don't want Charlie playing around in toxic spray that will kill both ants and small children... I grabbed the vinegar from the pantry and went to work. The all-knowing internet also hinted that black pepper makes ants scatter, so I used up half a bottle. Let me tell you, between the pepper and the vinegar, my living room smells fantastic.

I came home today to another colony of ants, right back where they were... they wagged their microscopic antennae at me, as if to say, "Don't believe everything the internet tells you." Not to be defeated, I swept the floor, shook out the rugs, laid out a fresh supply of vinegar/black pepper ant killer... and now I sit and wait, until Marty comes home to show me where the toxic ant-and-small-child killer spray is.

Until then, anyone else have any natural remedies for getting rid of ants? I had them earlier in the summer, running around my kitchen, and we used the ant spray then (with great success, I should add!), because we don't use our back door very often, and there was little danger of tracking the stuff all over the house.

Since this is such a random post, I suppose I should continue...

It's been a crazy past couple of weeks. On top of the normal things I do every day (you know... watch Charlie play on the floor by himself while I pop chocolates and catch up on InTouch), we've been prepping for our church's vacation bible school, which is happening this week. My assignment this year has been to run around with forty Jr. Highers, teaching them about Jesus and trying not to get hit by nerf darts. We did wheelbarrow races on day #1, and I won't tell you how sore I am. (It's pathetic, really. I told my younger brother how badly my back was hurting me, and he told me that I'm old and out of shape.) Essentially, I run around with a bunch of kids in the morning, and then nap with Charlie in the afternoons. (Someone at church today told me they don't feel bad for me. I think they're absolutely right on that one.)

To keep the randomness flowing...

Charlie is going to be 18 months this Monday, and of course, the inevitable questions are here: "When's the next one coming?" So, in honor of everyone who is concerned with how far apart we'll be spacing our children (assuming that we're even able to have more children -- ever think of that?), I did a search on the internet today (again, trusty Google to the rescue), and found a whole heap of bloggers with varying opinions on how many children to have, how far apart to space them, etc. etc. etc.

One blogger passionately defended her choice to only have one child (while admitting that a deep fear of hers is that something would happen to her little girl, leaving her with... nothing). Another person wrote about trying for baby #2... not because she wanted another child, but because she wanted her son to have the sibling she never had. Someone else brilliantly defended her choice to mother five children. I even found a "Christian" advice column where a young mother, age 22, has four children and just found out she is expecting her fifth -- she wrote in, asking what to do in her situation. (The columnist's advice, essentially? "Give your husband a vasectomy for his birthday." Yikes.)

Psalm 127 tells us that children are a gift from the Lord. And yet, lots of other voices are telling me the opposite.

Many people ominously warned me, before Charlie arrived, "Enjoy your peace and quiet now. It's gonna be over, real soon." Or, "Get everything done NOW, before your baby comes, because you won't get ANYTHING done for the next FIFTEEN YEARS. BAHAHAHAHA."

(Ok, fine. I added the "bahahaha" part, but you get the idea.)

I recently came across an article on TheNest.com that outlines 15 things to do before you have kids (and offers an attractive photo of a bawling 1-year-old at the top of the article -- hey, see, doesn't that make you want to have a whiny, insufferable child now?!). At the other end of the spectrum (and analyzing The Nest's sentiments perfectly, I think), my friend Katie Newman recently drew my attention to a beautifully-written article at DesiringGod.org entitled "Motherhood Is a Calling (and Where Your Children Rank)." It's interesting food-for-thought: one article tells us what to spend our time on before babies come, and the other asserts that babies are exactly what we (married people) should be spending our time on.

I've got my own thoughts on the matter, but to be honest, I feel like I've bared my soul to the internet enough for one day. (After all, Google now knows that I'm interested both in how to kill ants and how far apart my children should be spaced. That should give their data-gatherers something to chew on.)

To wrap it all up: I keep running into a friend all this week at church. (He runs this fascinating website -- I definitely recommend it.) Josh and his wife are foster parents. I don't know the specific ins and outs of their story, but right now, they have four children under the age of seven... including two 6-month olds. Amazing. Every single time I run into that family, they inspire me. I'm reminded of why we do what we do.

It's not just about me. My schedule. My travel aspirations. My educational dreams. My hobbies. My "bucket list." Sure, some days I act like it... But in the end, if it really is all about me, then this life just isn't worth living.

DIY fireworks

2011-07-04T22:30:00.004-05:00

Truth: the Fourth of July is my favorite holiday. It's all of the GREATEST things in this world, crammed into one incredible day: ice cream, watermelon, SUMMER, fireworks, cookouts with friends/family, sparklers, and a huge celebration of freedom in what is -- without a doubt -- the absolute greatest country on the planet.

But, like all other things in my life, the Fourth of July changed for me when Charlie was born. Last year, he was five months old -- too little for fireworks -- and we were your typical first-time parents with a fussy, out-of-sorts infant: stressed, and very, very tired.

Fast-forward to a year ago, on the evening of the 4th, around 9pm. We'd just rocked the baby to sleep after an hour or two of fussiness, and picture this: I was dramatically pacing the house, frustrated that we couldn't see fireworks, upset that things just weren't the same!!!!!! {cue sappy violin music.}

Marty, my sweet husband, walked outside for a minute... and came running back in.

"Fireworks!" he said, and ran back out the door.

It turned out that we could see the neighboring town's fireworks from our roof... and so, Marty grabbed a ladder, I grabbed the baby monitor, and we climbed up for a bird's eye view of some of the prettiest fireworks I'd ever seen. Afterwards, I did a minor freak-out about almost falling off the roof, and we watched the fireflies light up our yard. With a 5-month-old sleeping underneath the roof we were sitting on, it was just about as picture-perfect as things could be.

And so, this year, we put Charlie to bed, climbed up onto the roof, and watched the fireworks. I freaked out {again} about the possibility of falling off the roof {do I sound like a wimp? well, mmm, I can be, if heights or spiders are involved...}, and the fireflies still danced in the front yard, and we held hands, and in the silence {peppered with the sounds of exploding bottle rockets across the neighborhood, of course...}, in my head, I thanked God for freedom.

Freedom from oppression.

Freedom of religion.

Freedom of speech.

Freedom worth climbing up on a roof, just to celebrate it ;)

Happy Fourth of July!

life these days...

2011-06-29T21:24:00.002-05:00

Here's a little blog post about nothing in particular,

besides what we've been up to these past few days.

Note:

the pictures look different because

1. We're making the switch from PC to mac;

and

2. I'm a ninny.

Your patience is appreciated.

Charlie is starting to do the cutest things.

The other day, he insisted on putting on one "doot" [boot]

and walking around in it.

He even gave me a little GQ pose,

thanks to a bit of post-nap bleariness.

And here's us on Father's Day, and my birthday.

Nothing like a big can of propane to ring in the summer.

I also got a haircut today -- a birthday present from my sweet brother.

It was badly needed. I think my last haircut was... um... December, maybe?

Yuck.

The poor fellow who cut my hair literally took one look at it

and hacked it off in one giant snip.

It was glorious.

why i do what i do {even if there isn't much "doing" involved}

2011-06-28T08:00:00.001-05:00

This is eternal life,

that they know you, the only true God,

and Jesus Christ

whom you have sent.

{John 17:3}

Some days, I don't get much done.

I water the plants, and they overflow all over the floor.

I sit down to get some work done,

and a wail erupts from the bedroom

where my toddler should be peacefully sleeping.

We go into the grocery store,

and then leave empty-handed,

because my one-year-old threw a fit in the dairy aisle.

I sigh,

make another pot of coffee,

and carry on.

I was talking to one of my sweet cousins at a bridal shower this past weekend,

and we agreed that, some days,

this whole deal wouldn't be worth it

if it weren't for God.

Some days, I do "this" because it's

fun

{morning jogs, playing at the park, chatting with good friends over coffee}

rewarding

{baby kisses, giggles, hugs}

faith-growing

{I now know more about God than I ever did before Charlie came along}

etc.

But whether it's a good day,

or a bad day

{overflowing plants

fruitless grocery store trips

unfinished work}

the only reason I do this

that really matters

is that it's all about

knowing God

and loving others

{including my one-year-old, who woke up the other day looking like this}

{and when you get that kind of look,

you know it's gonna be

quite the day}

summer reading

2011-06-24T20:24:00.003-05:00

A few days before we go on vacation, I'm always at the library, grabbing books off the shelves like a madwoman. I bring 15+ books along for a week of vacation -- sounds crazy, but here's my logic: on vacation, why waste your time reading something you don't love? So, if I don't love a book, I throw it back into the bag and grab another. Because I bring so many books along, sometimes I skim through, just to get the author's gist. Other times, I read a book slowly, because it's too good to be done with too soon. {Toni Morrison's fiction, for example, does that to me.}

All that to say, here's part of the stack of books that I brought along with me on vacation in May:

And here's my {unsolicited} opinion on what I thought of them:

Happy Housewives by Darla Shine

I picked this up in a moment of desperation, hoping for a bit of inspiration at the end of a stay-at-home-momma's-gonna-blow kind of day. And I got it... sort of. I liked Darla's attitude -- she was all about rockin' it out, being the best mom and wife ever, and believing in the importance of a stay-at-home mom. However... in her chapter on health foods, she got a little ditzy when she started talking about the importance of eating whole foods. {I'm paraphrasing here: "People always talk about how healthy oatmeal is, but think about it: have you ever seen an oat tree?" Wow. W-o-w.} Also, her whole mantra revolved around wearing sexy jeans, having a happy family life, living the American dream, white picket fence and all.

I left the book asking, "Ok Darla -- your life is awesome. I love your passion, your desire for family, and your chapter on cleaning. [I. hate. cleaning. Thanks for helping me out.] But at the end of the day, what's it all about?" Because, if you ask Darla, it's about taking care of your family -- and looking good while you're doing it {TIGHT JEANS! HOT SHIRTS! UP-TO-DATE HIGHLIGHTS!!!!!!}. Unfortunately, she's not going to have much to say to the single mom who's forced to work, or the mom struggling to lose weight after baby #3, or the mom whose house just went into foreclosure, or the wanna-be mom dealing with miscarriage after miscarriage, or... you get what I mean. And if you've been around here long enough, you'll know what I'd say she's missing: a little G-o-d.

Trust me: I'm not against looking good, or loving your family, or knowing how to cook -- I just know they're not the end-alls that Darla makes them out to be.

The Pioneer Woman: Black Heels and Tractor Wheels by Ree Drummond

Do you know who The Pioneer Woman is?! She's a self-made blogging rockstar who cooks awesome food and takes fantastic pictures. This is her love story -- an autobiography on how she met her husband. And I LOVED it. LOVED IT!! AHHHH! It was SO GOOD! It got a little steamy at times -- conservatives like me, be warned -- but lalalalalalaLAAAA, it was amazing. The perfect thing to read on the beach. Go get it, and read it -- you'll want to move to a ranch after honeymooning in Australia, guaranteed.

Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger: Moving from Affluence to Generosity by Ronald Sider
To be honest, I tend to avoid books like this, because they usually make me feel a sort of false guilt about being born in America. But I'm so very glad I read it: My eyes were opened to God's heart for the poor, and ways that I can join Him in caring for them. I appreciated that Sider didn't seem to generalize, or lump Christians into an "uncaring-fat-rich" category -- instead, he outlined the problem, and showed ways that I, personally, can do something to make a difference. Poverty is only one of the many crises facing Christians today -- but God used this book to challenge me. What am I going to do about it?

Not for Sale: The Return of the Global Slave Trade, and How We Can Fight It by David Batstone

I guess I had a bit of a social justice theme going on, eh? This book was also amazing, eye-opening, and convicting to the core. It got me thinking about the clothes I buy, the food I eat, and the products I consume. Modern day slavery is huge -- way bigger than I can even comprehend -- but now that I'm responsible for what I know, I'm asking myself {again}, What am I going to do about it?

The Mommy Diaries: Finding Yourself in the Daily Adventure

You know when you're in a slump about something you're going through... and then you go hang out with a few friends... and they're going through exactly the same thing... and you swap stories, and laugh about them, and leave feeling a million times better about life? That was this book for me -- except, well, in book form. It wasn't sophisticated, or very deep or intellectual. But it was real, and it was good for my soul. Reading excerpts and anecdotes from the lives of moms across the continent blessed me tremendously, and reminded me {for the umpteenth time} that yes, it's worth it.

A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini

To my own shame, I never learned much about the history of Afghanistan, or the people who lived there. This book changed that for me. Who knew that communism, of all things, brought {temporary} liberation for Afghan women in many ways? I learned that, and many other things, from this beautiful work of fiction. It wasn't an easy read, but it was important. I didn't love it, but I needed it. It made me feel deeper -- one of the incredible qualities of good fiction. I'd recommend this one, for sure.

I also read The Hunger Games, but meh, I wasn't impressed.

So now, help me out: Any good reads you'd recommend? I'm always looking for good fiction especially... I'll take any suggestions you've got!

b&w love

2011-06-23T13:00:00.000-05:00

When it comes to editing photos, I'm definitely not an expert. My editing knowledge comes from a combination of (1) a basic knowledge of photoshop, (2) tutorials, tips, and tricks that I've learned from other photographers, and (3) what I think looks good, based on my personal style preferences. It's a tricky business, this photo editing stuff, mostly because I don't really want my pictures to look very "edited" at all. (Over-editing was a mistake I used to make, and sometimes still do -- yikes.) I learn as I go, and tweak things along the way.

All that to say, I wanted to show you a few behind the scenes edits that I did recently to Matt and Liz's wedding -- and in the case of these photos, I want to show you the power of black and white to capture a moment. Let me preface all of this by saying {again} that I don't consider myself an expert in any way -- I'm just showing you what works for me :)

Also, nearly every picture that I'm highlighting below was taken by my second shooter at Matt and Liz's wedding -- my sister, Anna. {She takes rockin' pictures, doncha think?!} Since a second shooter often captures the more "photojournalistic" moments of a wedding day, I think they often lend themselves well to black and white conversion. Ok, here we go:

First up: a picture of Liz and her dad, walking down the aisle. Here's the straight-out-of-camera {SOOC} shot...

...and here's the B&W conversion. I chose B&W for this because your eyes are now first drawn to the facial expressions of Liz and her dad {which are priceless, don't you think?}, rather than to the peach-colored wall in the background. No offense, peach colored wall...

Next up: a sweet expression on the maid-of-honor's face during the ceremony. Here's the SOOC shot.

...and here's the B&W conversion.

This next one is my shot -- I took two versions of it, and did one in color and one in B&W. Here's the one I chose for the B&W conversion, SOOC:

...and here's the B&W. I like how all of the sudden, Liz's dress is like BAM! the first thing that catches your eye.

And lastly, here's a shot Anna took at the reception, right after the father-daughter dance. {Side note: at the reception, there were these beautiful pink spotlights illuminating the walls. They made for some awesome pictures, and some awfully-color-balanced shots. B&W conversion helped a bit to beat the system!}

SOOC:

...and B&W:

Many times, I've converted a shot to B&W, only to convert it right back to color -- if a photo is too "busy," with too many patterns or distracting elements, B&W will lend more confusion than clarity to a shot. But, when it's used correctly, B&W can be pretty rockin' awesome ;)

P.S. One technique I learned from this incredible photographer duo is that, once you convert your photo to B&W, adding a small touch of sepia tone to the photo makes it a softer, gentler B&W. And, you know, we're all about soft and gentle B&W's around here...

;)

dad's day

2011-06-19T07:00:00.000-05:00

There are a million reasons
why
my husband
Marty
is the best dad
in
the
whole
world
{says the card that we bought him}

But reason #1 is the most important:

because
Charlie
thinks
so
!

Happy Father's Day
to Marty,
to my own amazing daddy,
to my wonderful father-in-law,
and to all the other
world's
greatest
dads
:)

family photo

2011-06-16T21:30:00.002-05:00

Here's a picture that Anna took of us, right before Matt and Liz's wedding:

Yay for family pictures where 2/3 of the participants are smiling at the camera!

:)

Matt and Liz : Married!

2011-06-15T20:50:00.004-05:00

Less than two weeks ago, my brother-in-law Matt got married to the greatest girl in the world, Liz! It's a huge privilege to take wedding photos in the first place, but it's even more special when I'm shooting a family member's wedding: you're awwwing and ooooing and baaawling behind the camera as the wedding day unfolds right before your eyes. There's nothing like seeing your brother marry the girl of his dreams :)

Matt and Liz got married in Peoria, Illinois; their reception was at the Gateway Building, right downtown on the river. A photographer's dream, basically... Anna {my sister} was my second shooter, and I know I can speak for her when I say that we loved every single minute of this wedding day! {And trust me, that's really saying something, since we shot pictures for about sixteen hours, haha!}

***To see a slideshow of the wedding day, click here!***

Ok now, want to see the pictures already? Here are some of my favorites :)

Before the ceremony, a first look:

I love this one -- when Liz's dad saw her for the first time:

And then, it's go-time :)

Mr. and Mrs.!

{Also, I should probably mention that their limo was a stretch Escalade -- a 20-seater, complete with a 460-channel satellite T.V. dish, Playstation3, something like 6 flatscreen TV's, a lazer light show, a fog machine, shag carpeting... haha! It was totally amazing!}

Beautiful bride, handsome groom!

If I had to pick a shot for a canvas to hang above their couch, this would definitely be it ;)

Introducing... their awesome wedding party!

Anna stuck with the guys during the morning, so all of the shots below are hers... as I was going through the shots for the first edit, I kept coming across these ridiculous poses. These aren't even all of them, but here's a taste :D

Reception details {note the U of I table!}:

First Dance dip!

Do these two look familiar? :)

And finally..
for their getaway, they walked to their hotel. Perfect? Yes. And, I couldn't resist...

ta-daa!

2011-06-09T14:09:00.003-05:00

Remember this picture that I posted, about a month ago?

It was taken at the beginning of April. We had just put down grass seed, after roto-tilling, weed-pulling, dirt-digging, seed-sowing, and peat-mossing our entire backyard. It was a lot of work...

Ugh. I hate mud.

{Quick recap: when we bought our house, the backyard -- along with pretty much everything else -- was in terrible disarray. At one point, it had been a lovely, landscaped garden, but weeds and horrible perennials with humongous bulbs took over. It was, quite seriously, the closest thing you'll ever get to a jungle in the Midwest.}

But now...

after weeks of watching the mud intently, while doubting everything from our grass seed's sprouting capabilities to the integrity of the kind fellow who sold us the grass seed...

We've got grass!

If I've learned anything through this process, it's that I'd make an absolutely terrible farmer. You should have seen me, squinting at the dirt, saying to Marty, "Yeah... it's been three days. No grass. They totally sold us a dud bag of grass seed."

Silly me.

sigh.
I love grass.

:)

swoon

2011-06-07T14:50:00.002-05:00

I'm editing Matt and Liz's wedding this week,
and I just came across this beauty:

That, dear readers, is why it always, always pays to have a second shooter.

{and, this past weekend,
my second shooter just so happened to be my sister.
beautiful shot, Anna!!}

More pictures coming soon!

change of pace... place

2011-05-19T19:31:00.002-05:00

Vacations, like everything else, changed for me once I became a mom.

Before Charlie came along, I brought my books, iPod, and a bottle of sun-in, and I'd get lost on the beach until dinnertime.

hello, sunshine state. goodbye, stress.

After, however, was a whole different story.

The first time we went on a trip, I sat there, three-month-old baby in tow, wondering, How the heck do people go on vacation with kids? How can they even call it VACATION? I was too busy changing diapers and slathering my infant with SPF 50 to even think about reading a stack of books. Charlie wasn't sleeping through the night, so on top of crazy days, I spent busy nights rocking my baby to sleep in an unfamiliar bedroom, without the arsenal of baby tactics stashed away at home. To be fair, we were on a trip with my parents, brothers, and sisters, so happy arms were everywhere, eager to gobble up Mr. Charles. But -- as every parent knows -- the buck still stops with M. O. M.

(Ok. Boohoo, right? I was still on vacation. at the beach. with pints of haagen-dazs sitting in the freezer. I reminded myself of those exact things when I was up at 4am with a fuss-ball, tapping my toes until the sun, and the rest of the sleeping condo, got around to rising...)

A year later, here we are again: beach vacation. baby boy. haagen-dazs. etc.

Charlie sleeps longer, and he's more predictable. Charlie = sleep means Mama = sleep. Which means Mama = rational + happy. This year, I brought a stack of books, and I'm plowing through them one by one, during naptimes. When Charlie's up, we splash in the water, stuff oreos into his mouth, and laugh when his feet touch the sand. (he hates the sand. more on that later.)

Not sure where I'm going with this. I suppose this is yet another reminder that, thank the Lord, everything changes, sooner or later. Stages come and go. So savor where you're at. Live it out all the way.

{am I sounding like a broken record yet? can you tell what I'm working on in my heart right now?}

No complaining here. I'm off to corral a 1-year-old, and then eat a couple pints of ice cream once he goes to sleep.

{and then, strategize an exercise plan for losing the 20-pounds I'm gaining on vacay, once we get back to real life.}

on gardening

2011-05-13T20:51:00.004-05:00

I used to silently make fun of people who said that gardening was "exercise." I now stand corrected. Gardening is hard. Hard.

For example, we've got a giant magnolia in the backyard that just finished blooming. All the petals dropped a week or two ago, and I thought I could just leave them. Turns out, dead magnolia petals will kill brand-spanking-new grass seedlings. Which means that dead magnolia petals need to be raked up.
Gross.
{and I thought raking was something you only had to do in the fall.}

But yardwork is also really fulfilling. I just planted a peegee hydrangea in the front yard. It's a little baby tree right now, and hopefully I didn't kill it when I tried to pry it out of the pot {amateur gardener here}, but I'm so stinkin' excited to watch it grow. We're growing some veggies, and flowers too. I'm up to my elbows in dirt these days, and loving it.

Note: our yard is not yet anything to be proud of. In fact, it's the antithesis of "awesome." Thus, I live vicariously through friends who do have pretty yards. For example, I've got a neighbor {hi Petra!} with such a talent for growing things. Her yard is beautiful, beautiful, beautiful -- gorgeous flowers, all summer long. There's a woman a few blocks over with an incredible bed of wildflowers. In the middle of the summer, she has scores of lilies all over the yard. The smell is incredible. A few years ago, I would have never noticed clumps of stonecrop, or barberry, or wildflowers, or whatever. Now, I'm starting to learn the names, and fall in love with plants. It's weird, and wonderful.

Here's a picture of us, right after we finished prepping the backyard for grass seed:

I've got a full post coming up on the state of our jungle, er, yard.

In the meantime: today, I pulled 292 weeds.

Only 60,404 to go...

**Edit**
Coincidentally, my friend Monica just blogged about yardwork, too. She's another one of my friends who happens to have a very pretty yard :) Check it out here...

mother's day

2011-05-09T21:48:00.004-05:00

Last year:

This year:

Crazy, how time flies!
{Stop growing, Charlie...}

And now, a true life confession:
Some days, it's surreal, this whole Mom thing.
Someone will say something nice and polite, like,
"Wow, you have the cutest baby!"
And I'll be like...
"Baby? Me?
Oh...
right! Baby!"

I'm starting to understand how people who are fifty, or sixty, or seventy,
still see themselves as teenagers on the inside,
because at heart,
on the inside,
they still are.

Here I am, feeling old,
and I'm only 25.

That's all a little weird to admit, Internet.
But it is my blog, after all.
:)

i caved. {or, ode to a lost babysitter}

2011-05-06T07:00:00.000-05:00

It was rainy, and he was sick.
I turned on the TV,
propped him up,
hit "play,"
and went to empty the dishwasher.

Unfortunately,
I found out the hard way
that the television makes him
very
very
crabby.

So,
goodbye T.V.
It was nice while it lasted.

{a whole three golden minutes}

birthday boy

2011-05-05T00:01:00.001-05:00

{the one on the left}

Happy birthday,
to my bestest friend,
and the best
daddy
in the whole wide world
:)

a friendly sunday a.m. reminder...

2011-05-01T08:17:00.004-05:00

This past week, I read the following paraphrase of a passage in Ecclesiastes.

{I'm buying a canvas, painting these words on it, and hanging it in my kitchen.}

Seize life!

Eat bread with gusto,
Drink wine with a robust heart.

Oh yes—God takes pleasure in your pleasure!

Dress festively every morning.

Don't skimp on colors and scarves.

Relish life with the spouse you love

Each and every day of your precarious life.

Each day is God's gift.

It's all you get in exchange

For the hard work of staying alive.

Make the most of each one!

Ecclesiastes 9:7-11

{the Message}

anti-anger technique

2011-04-27T07:00:00.000-05:00

I'm going to share an anti-anger technique with you.

I use it on my husband.
But you can probably use it for lots of people, if you find it helpful.
{you might not. that's ok too. this is a strange one, I'll admit.}

Whenever I'm upset with Marty,
{who, by the way, gave me permission to write this post, poor guy}

I look at this picture, tacked on the wall.

Little, second grade Marty.
Backpack bigger than his torso.
Bowl cut hair.
Tube socks.
Adorableness.

And then, I say to myself,

Regardless of whether it's his fault or not,
that poor little boy had absolutely no clue
that someday he would
grow up
and marry
someone who would freak out about
___________________________
{insert conflict-in-question here}
Cut the poor guy some slack.

Little Marty has saved big Marty {and big Marty's wife}
from many arguments,
simply because
it's hard to yell at someone
when you're seeing them as their little self
bowl cut,
tube socks,
and all.

post-Easter recap, or the case of too many peeps consumed {?}

2011-04-25T21:35:00.002-05:00

Easter sunrise, from our bedroom window:

Easter morning 1-year-old, before we knew he was getting sick:

Easter evening parents... after
(1) church {= Jesus is ALIVE},
(2) visiting relatives,
(3) discovering that our son was sick {the chocolate eggs didn't help, I'm sure},
(4) breaking his first ever 103-degree fever, and
(5) putting him to bed:

We were smiling because of point #1.
And because, well, the Hawks were playing :)

Anywho, here's what my Easter Monday looked like:

That says it all, I think.

Jesus is alive.

Now, off to get His help with parenting a feverish cranky-pants...

{un}ordinary friday

2011-04-22T13:23:00.003-05:00

In the midst of today,
be reminded of the beautiful truth that is Good Friday:

Jesus was wounded for our transgressions.
He was crushed for our iniquities.
Upon Him was the punishment that brought us peace,
and by His wounds, we are healed.

{Isaiah 53:5}

identifying your purpose

2011-04-20T10:22:00.003-05:00

I don't know about you, but sometimes I get bogged down in the day-to-day stuff. {I won't expound on my "stuff," because you'd probably -- nope, definitely -- be bored to tears. Let's just say, it helps to remind myself that I'm working for a higher purpose than just doing endless loads of laundry...} From time to time, I'm learning that it's important to refocus my priorities. I need to remind myself why I'm doing what I'm doing -- it helps give me direction, and adds a sense of purpose to my day.

I came across a helpful list in the book Leaders Who Last, by Dave Kraft {I had the privilege of working on the book during my time at Crossway}. Here's a list he gives on how to identify your purpose in life:

1. Record Bible passages God has applied to your life.
2. Reflect how God has used you in the past.
3. Determine what you're passionate about.
4. List your known gifts and strengths.
5. Delineate what you have excelled at in your work experience.
6. Define what action words best describe what you like to do.
7. Write down what you enjoy doing in your free time.

And then...
8. Reread all your answers.
9. Take note of common themes.
10. Write down key words or ideas that repeat.
11. Summarize those key words in a short, energizing statement about yourself.

Interesting, yes? I think it's a helpful exercise to work through. And if you're up for it, the rest of Kraft's book is an excellent read for anyone in a leadership role.* He shares simple techniques for getting things done that, in my humble opinion, are priceless.

Now. Back to the laundry...

*By "leadership role," I'm talking VP's at companies, pastors at churches, and yes, moms at home -- leading their little brood around all day long :)

coffee

2011-04-18T10:09:00.002-05:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about the power that I have as a consumer. Advertising companies spend millions and billions of dollars, vying for my time, attention, and money.

I'm particularly susceptible to marketing, because, dear friends, I'm a brand-lover.

And, more specifically, I'm a coffee brand lover.

Oh yes. I've swallowed it, hook, line, and sinker:

"this very cup of coffee
will instantly transform you into a stunningly cool person who
(1) knows how to take care of herself,
(2) knows how to enjoy life,
(3) wears the right skinny jeans,
(4) and by golly, is ethically responsible, too
{thanks to the earth-friendly hand-knit sleeve on her coffee cup}."

Tada! Perfection {and earth-friendliness} is instantly achieved in my day, through the purchase of one cup of coffee.

Thus, I am awesome.

Ok, whatever. I love coffee, I love coffeeshops, and I love my french press at home :) But getting back to reality here... I buy a lot of coffee. Yes, I brew 99% of my coffee at home, and yes, I buy cheap{ish} coffee {sometimes}, and yes, I save money in other areas so that I can budget for my one-cup-per-day coffee habit...

But I still spend money on coffee. Because I love it :)

And then... it was brought to my attention yesterday that my favorite coffee company "is a Shariah-compliant firm owned by an Islamic bank based in Bahrain. One of its founders and a current adviser are leaders in the radical Muslim Brotherhood." {according to an editorial at Investors. com}

Um. What?

Not to mention the fact that everyone else's favorite coffee company has a diversity policy that I'm not too comfortable with.

Alright. Stay with me here.

When I buy coffee {or coffee beans} from these places, I'm supporting what these companies stand for. Right? Right. And, while I probably buy lots of products from companies who don't share my same values and beliefs... at the moment, I'm unaware of them.

Unfortunately, I am aware of of a few of the things that my favorite mainstream coffee companies stand for {and that I particularly disagree with}: who they get their money from, who they give their money to, and so on.

And, I'm responsible for what I know.

So, here's the plan:

I'm going to start buying my coffee from companies who stand for things that I'm passionate about -- things that have eternal significance, and things that are close to the heart of God.

Enter Gobena Coffee.
*cue heavenly music*

Here's a company I can buy coffee from with a clear conscience. They offer "fresh-roasted gourmet fair trade, organic, shade-grown coffee delivered right to your door." {Side note: my aunt just sent me an article about the health benefits of organic coffee. YESSSSSSSS.} And the best part?

100% of the net profits are reinvested in the lives of orphan children throughout the world.

The coffee is a bit more pricey than what I'm used to. Maybe I'll have to scale back my coffee-consumption a bit.

But, wow.

Drinking coffee, and giving money to a ministry that I care about, at the same time?

It's music to my ears :)

dear charlie-warlie

2011-04-14T10:07:00.004-05:00

dear Charlie {or Charlie-warlie, as we like to call you},

Today, you woke up crabby. Life's tough for a 14-month-old, sometimes; you've got big fat molars busting through your gums, and they've really been bugging you these past few days.

Before your daddy walked out the door to go to work, he was holding you and bouncing you {the one thing that would get you to stop whining}, and I looked at you -- how big you are -- and said to your daddy, "Is this really our baby? Seriously?" I still can't believe that you're ours. {And I mean that in a very, very good way.}

Some days, I live for your naptimes, because it's then that I can regain a bit of sanity before you're awake again, ready to terrorize the living room. But that's ok. I know from experience that we're in a bit of a phase... and before I know it, this phase will be long gone.

Want to know what I'm learning these days? How important it is to abide in Jesus, all day long. I can't do anything that has lasting, eternal value without His help. I really need His help, especially when it comes to you. You're a tough cookie sometimes...

But you're also a sweet, kind little boy. You know what "gentle" and "nice" mean. You love doggies and you're not afraid when they bark {even when it's right into your face}. You love flipping light switches, putting on your shoes, opening cabinets, knocking over block towers, and swinging at the park. You're smart, and you want to figure out how things work. You catch on quickly. You love to read books {especially with daddy, since he does the best sound effects}. You love splashing in the bathtub.

Today, I had to sneak into your room when you were sleeping to turn on the baby monitor. I stopped by your crib and looked at you -- there you were, sleeping peacefully, arms over your head, your blankie snuggled up next to you. And wow. It hit me again.

You're ours. Our very own Charlie-warlie.

See you when you wake up, little baby boy...

spring...?

2011-04-13T08:49:00.001-05:00

happy bird-day to you...

2011-04-11T10:00:00.003-05:00

Marty and I are in the middle of season 1 of The Office. Last night, we watched the episode where Michael throws an advance birthday party for Meredith, and buys her a card that says "Happy Bird-Day... along with a bunch of other awkward things, of course.

Hilarious, and apropos, given that today is my sister Anna's birthday...

{here she is, with her super-awesome husband, Steve.
he just had a birthday, too. happy birthday, Steve :D }

So, happy birthday, beautiful sister! I love you, and miss you, and hope that your special day is as sweet as you are.

shout out

2011-04-08T07:54:00.002-05:00

Lately, I've been trying to blog more, and read more blogs. It's a sort of creative outlet for me, and I always come away from reading other blogs feeling inspired to live my life better. Blogs are a huge blessing to me.

And yet... I'm the world's worst commenter.

I read something that's unbelievably creative, or funny, or something that just resonates inside me. And I walk away from my computer, and implement it, or chew on it, without a word of "thank you" to the blogger who just turned my day around.

So, from here on, I'm resolving to comment on other blogs at least as often as I post on my own.

The picture above was taken over a year ago. It's me and Rochelle. It's there because, well Rochelle is the best example I could think of -- someone who gives out encouragement and blog-love on a consistent, regular basis. She's great, and her sweet words encourage me almost every day. So, thanks Rochelle for being such an excellent example. Love ya, girl ;)

***

P.S. I wrote this post entirely one-handed, Charlie on my lap, watching Veggie Tales silly songs on another screen. Just so you know...

Happy Friday :)

couch > 5k

2011-04-06T07:00:00.000-05:00

Monday marked the 2nd annual kick-off of the couch-to-5k running plan in our house. Marty and I are pounding the pavement three times a week, Charlie in tow {strapped into the jogging stroller, mouth stuffed with crackers}.

For wanna-be runners like me, its the best running plan I've found so far. {Not that the words "best" and "running" belong in the same sentence.} My knees tend to give out on me, and my feet always hurt -- hence, I used to avoid running like the plague.

However, there's something about running that totally kicks your metabolism into high gear. Last year, I followed this plan consistently starting in April... and I ran a 4-mile race on July 3rd. {Granted, I came in 590th out of 600 runners. But hey, I finished. It was awesome.}

Speaking of awesome: I didn't run again, from July 4th, 2010, until, oh... April 4th, 2011.

So don't get me wrong. I hate running.

It's miserable.

But it sure does beat a Jillian Michaels DVD in the living room in the dead of February. Shudder.

Seriously: If you ever wanted to give running a try, this is the plan for you.

Give it a shot. We can be miserable together.

:)

***

P.S. Here's me and my little bro, just about two years ago:

There is {pretty much} nothing better than weird mid-air jumps at sunset on the beach.

This picture has nothing to do with this post... except that, at the time it was taken, I was blissfully unaware of running plans.

Blissfully, blissfully unaware...

quote

2011-04-04T07:00:00.000-05:00

Treasure the love you have received above all.
It will survive long after your gold and good health have vanished.

-Og Mandino

book love - 4.1.11

2011-04-01T07:00:00.001-05:00

I love books.

Here's what I've been reading lately {in no particular order}:

Domino: The Book of Decorating
This is my go-to reference whenever I need inspiration for a bare wall. {read = all the time. I'm not very creative on my own, unfortunately.}

Start Your Family: Inspiration for Having Babies
Laugh if you want, but I love this book. It's totally counter-cultural. It's radical. It's a book about sacrifice {in a society when "sacrifice" is sort of a dirty word, or, at the very least, totally un-cool}. I highly recommend it.

The Total Money Makeover
Speaking of radical...

Apartment Therapy's Big Book of Small, Cool Spaces
This book is rad. If you live in a small-ish place {like me}, you'll love the ideas here. And while we're on the topic, have you ever checked out ApartmentTherapy.com?

***

There you have it: My un-sophisticated reading list for Friday, April 1st. Next week, I'll shoot for the moon {with books like this, and this, maybe?}.

{or, maybe not?}

...regardless -- happy Friday :)

an album from mypublisher

2011-03-30T11:06:00.004-05:00

For our anniversary, I decided to finally get around to ordering a wedding album. We have hundreds of prints from our wedding, and I'd always envisioned making some sort of high-end scrapbook in place of a traditional album... but, given that I can barely get a shower in every day, scrapbooking is currently on the back burner.

ha. ha. ha.

{I really do get a shower in every day. moving on.}

I picked MyPublisher because (1) they were having a sale, (2) I've done albums with them before and loved the way they turned out, and (3) I'm a sucker for good branding:

We went with the leather option, which comes with a cloth sleeve:

I was nervous, going with leather, because I wasn't sure if it would look chintzy or not.

The verdict? Definitely not chintzy ;) Excellent quality, in my {very humble} opinion.

Here are a few of the layouts I threw together, using their software. {It was really, really easy to use, btw, and I'm a huge fan of clean designs with extra whitespace.}

We also opted for the lay-flat pages. It upped the cost significantly... but, like I said, they were running a great sale :) I'm glad we did, too -- It makes the album feel much more "album-y," and less "book-y"... if that makes any sense at all.

I'm super happy with the way this turned out! It's great to have an album to pull out and flip through...

until, you know, I get around to making that scrapbook.

***

p.s. I've also used Blurb in the past, with excellent results. Their software is also really simple to use, and the quality was superb; they've just got different style options and such.

p.p.s. Has anyone else ever done a DIY album {wedding or other}, or used a different photo book company? I'd love to hear about it...

3 years

2011-03-29T11:23:00.003-05:00

Three years ago, at almost this exact moment...

Like Marty said to me this morning: it's been the hardest, craziest, happiest three years of our lives :)

Marty... Happy anniversary.

I love you a million red jelly beans.

:o)

{and, as always, photos courtesy of Marcia Tumminaro, our rockin' wedding photographer}

9 ways to make it to May

2011-03-28T08:51:00.004-05:00

Here in the midwest, we just experienced a tiny taste of spring... followed by temps more typical of December than March. I try not to complain about the weather, but this spring, I'm getting antsy. We've got icicles instead of puddles, flurries instead of flowers. My 1-year-old has cabin fever, and I'm getting tired of putting gloves on when I go outside.

So... for a bit of Monday morning entertainment, here are nine things to do while waiting for spring to really arrive:

1. Pretend its October, and you're falling in love {again} with brisk walks on a crisp, blustery afternoon. Bundle up, and take that walk. While you're walking {and freezing}, remember that 80-degree weather is a few short months {weeks, for the optimistic?!} away.

2. Make a "spring cleaning" list. Next, pat yourself on the back because it isn't really "spring" yet, and put the list away for a warmer day. Then, go snuggle up on the couch with a good book.

3. Plan out your garden.

4. Now that everyone has spring fever, go shopping for winter clothes on clearance.

5. Pull out all your cute scarves that you'll miss so much once summer rolls around {right}. Wear one every day, until temperatures break 60-degrees.

6. Have a campfire. Make a mug of steaming hot chocolate. Snuggle under your down comforter. Wear fuzzy socks.

7. Tickled pick with the thought of summer? Jesus compares our anticipation of the signs of summer to the coming of His kingdom. We're supposed to look for the signs, and get excited about it. Summer's coming... and so is the King of kings :) Read Luke 21, and think about it.

8. Scout out a magnolia tree in your neighborhood. Get ready to watch it blossom.

9. And finally... remember how far we've already come since February:

Never fear, friends. Spring is on the way :)

this is it

2011-03-26T09:00:00.000-05:00

Saturday morning, 6:49 a.m. Charlie, wailing from his bedroom down the hall. His nose is audibly stuffy. He's hungry.
Groan.

Sometimes, I try to remember what life was like before diaper changes, or Saturday morning wake-up calls, or Cheerios crunched underfoot for the millionth time.

And then... oh yeah.

It was life without baby kisses.
There were no chubby bellies to tickle, or fat baby feet to smush.
There weren't any trucks, or balls, or blocks to trip over.
Things were easier. {which, in our case, means that we were more selfish, and less creative.}
We had more money...
But now, life is richer.

:)

***

By the way... take a look at this Etsy seller.

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, right?

Her watercolors make me wish that I could paint with watercolors, too. But my dear cousin Michelle, artist extraordinaire, has already tried to teach me. It ended rather miserably. Thus, I'll be buying prints like the one below, instead of painting them :)

Photo credit: Katie Daisy of The Wheatfield, http://www.etsy.com/people/thewheatfield

Lent

2011-03-25T10:24:00.002-05:00

Lent was never really emphasized in my family or my church when I was growing up. I pieced together a superficial understanding of what it was all about from little observances: gray smudges on foreheads, my grandma eating fish on Fridays, relatives stuffing their faces full of chocolate on Easter Sunday.

In high school and college, Lent became a comfort to me. I drew closer to God by giving up television, or committing to pray for so many minutes every day, or whatever. I didn't do it because I had to -- my faith didn't dictate a set of rules that I was required to follow -- but instead, I did it because I wanted to. I wanted to draw nearer to God.

Now, Lent has evolved into a time of preparation for me {which, of course, is what it should have been all along}. It might sound silly {or not?}, but in years past, I've never really prepared my heart for Easter. We'd go to church on Good Friday, somberly, quietly... and come back on Sunday for the grand slam -- Easter lilies, orchestral arrangements, and Christ risen from the dead. Sunday morning was followed by Sunday afternoon: glazed ham, mashed potatoes, and too many Cadbury eggs.

This year, however, I'm getting ready. I haven't "given up" anything. Instead, I'm reading through Elyse Fitzpatrick's Comforts from the Cross. Every day, I've been pointed toward the incredible truth of the gospel: that Jesus loves me, that He died for me, and that the Law no longer applies to me. It's Christianity in its most basic form, and its refreshing to my soul. No more "doing." Just "being."

So, in other words... happy Lent :)

contentment, take 2

2011-03-03T13:54:00.003-06:00

As a quick follow-up to Monday's post on contentment and such: later that day, Rochelle told me about a new book coming out from Crossway at the end of April on that very subject. She highly recommends it, and I'm excited to read it.

{For those of you who don't know, Crossway is the last company I worked at before I left for a new adventure. I honestly, truly can't say enough good things about Crossway!}

*Also, don't you like those flowers in the picture? They're the survivors from a Valentine's Day bouquet, and they're doing a good job of adding cheer to a dining room table that happens to be covered in receipts, check stubs, and other blah-inducing tax-related items...

make it awesome.

2011-02-28T09:00:00.001-06:00

See this?

I've got a giant pile of that, waiting for me.

And this?

This little thing needs my attention, nearly every moment that he's awake.

Most days, my to-do list is a mile long. There are dirty dishes in the sink. Unfinished projects are everywhere. I could be planning trips to Italy... making more money... sheesh, even drinking coffee in silence. Instead, I clean diaper pails, jump at the sound of a little voice wailing through the baby monitor, and scramble to dry my hair before the little guy is totally awake.

STOP.

Rewind, to 18 months ago.

I'm in my very own office {which, at the time, was larger than my bedroom at home!}. A vanilla latte sits on the desk next to me. I'm wearing heels. On my to-do list are words like paint colors, decorate, coffee with friends, shopping, nap, and rest. The sun is shining. I've got friends working in the offices next to mine; I can pop in and say hello whenever I want. I can take leisurely lunch breaks. I can do whatever I want.

And instead...

I'm sitting there, staring out the window, at the bike path that runs past our building. A woman jogs by, pushing a stroller, moving fast. And all I can think is, "I wish I was her."

Yep.

I wanted to be that momma, jogging off down the trail. She probably didn't have a care in the world, beside taking her little darling baby out for some fresh air. Maybe they'd stop off for an ice cream cone, or roll around on the grass in the park. Of course, her baby never cried. She could push that child through any store, and baby would coo with contentment. Life would be grand, if that was me, ponytail bobbing to the beat of my gym shoes, as I pounded away, pushing my baby...

Seriously.

See my point?

You already know I've got a few unresolved issues that need dealing with {*grin*}. But I'm serious here.

Wherever you're at, there are going to be negatives. What's hanging you up?

Too many kids?
No kids at all?
A job that stinks?
Single, wishing you were married?
Married, wishing you were single?
Not enough money?
An apartment, when you'd rather have a house?
An unfinished house?
Old clothes?
Not enough peace and quiet?
Too much to do?

Let it go.

You've only got one shot at today.

Be faithful with what whatever you've got, big or little. Take what you have, and make it awesome. Rock it out. Live your life now.

Because, wherever you think you want to be... by the time you get there, you'll already be looking at the next thing. And the next. And the next.

Contentment is only possible by the grace of God.

So, wherever you're at today...

Be all there.