One Woman’s World

Do you ever just have a few days of pure contentment? Do you ever just get settled in and feel at peace about where you’re going. I love that feeling. It’s that sense of being on track for a few minutes. Never mind expecting it to last, though. My mother says that she’s found God leaves her complacent for about two days before she gets the next challenge. I’ve found it to be true, as well. But who says we can’t just love the little moments of respite before we shake up and move forward.

It’s not that we’re without challenges, right now, it’s just that we’re feeling pretty good about our plan to meet them. And for the moment, we’re holding our own. So well that we can afford to look around and see the beauty all around us.

Anyway, I wanted to fix up the botch job I made of the last Name That contest. My dear friend Margaret was the winner. I should have announced the winner last week, but a rush off to Bloggirls in Idaho left me, ironically, with no time for blogging.

By the time I got back I had less time than before, and … without further ado, the answer to Name That… from 2 weeks ago.

1. What is the significance of the San Rafael Knob to the world in general?

It is the highest point in the San Rafael Swell in Central Utah. An amazing wilderness area for canyoneers to dream big dreams, and hike, and test their physical prowess.

2. What is its significance to me personally?

It’s where I stood, December 21st, 2002, next to the one man I have ever really loved, and said yes when he proposed, in the middle of a 12 mile hike with snow on the ground. It’s where I was kissed for the first time. And yes, those things did happen on the same day. Cody didn’t want to kiss me until he proposed, so that he could focus on getting to know me without the added distraction of a too-physical relationship. After that, well… for a 26-year-old woman with virgin lips, lets just say that the kissing was not so abstained-from on the rest of the hike.

I was talking with a girlfriend the other day about marriage, and it occurred to me that one of the things I value most about my relationship with Cody, is that it is easy. Not to say that we don’t work at being good spouses every day, but to say that it is the one part of my life I don’t have to question. I know it is real. I know it will last. I want it to be just the way it is. And so, full circle to say that four years ago, I was just starting to date this man…

Three and a half years ago, I said yes, at the highest point of his favorite place in the world.

Three years ago we made it official.

And today, I’m loving life.

I have to write this post right now, in the middle of the night. So that tomorrow when the Bean again whines for something she could have if she would only ask nicely, or when she up-ends another full bottle of water on my sofa, or when I become bored and frustrated with any of the aspects of my stay-at-home-motherhood, I can have this post to read, and re-read like scripture. So I won’t forget how I felt.

Cody’s leaving early in the morning on a hike, and so we needed to go to bed early, and I stayed up to try to read myself to drowsiness. Bad idea, since the book I’m in the middle of has me gripped so thoroughly.

Normally when the Bean cries out in the night for comfort, one of us goes to solve it. Often, it’s Cody and not me, since he says he likes to be the one to calm her, and give her “waller” to drink, and sing a little song, and say a prayer. I’m not sure if it’s just his way of serving me, or his way of serving her, but often I stay gratefully in my bed.

I heard her cry a little, and rushed from my book to answer her, so she wouldn’t wake up Daddy tonight when he needs his sleep so much.

I pulled her into my arms.

“Water?” she croaked.

I carried her into the bathroom, filled a tall cup with water in the dark, and took her back to her bedroom. In the middle of the night, I’m always amazed at how steady her hands are when she, fresh from sleeping, holds the cup in the dark to drink. I love the sound of her frantic drinking and swallowing. Minus the occasional slurping sounds, the sound reminds me of the tender way I fed her when she was small.

When she finished the drink, like always, I took the cup, and reclined with her in the rocking chair for a moment, with her head on my shoulder.

I was amazed for just a moment that she still wants to snuggle into me for comfort at all times of day. I felt so honored, and blessed. And I realized in that moment that this time will be past all too quickly.

“Do you want to sing a song?” I whispered.

Immediately she perked up, and pulled her arms away from me to start the actions.

“Spider?” How is that always the one she picks first, or if she hasn’t the time and energy to think of the song she might really prefer instead? How did it become her security song?

So I sang The Itsy Bitsy Spider for the one millionth time as she did the actions, and then we snuggled for a minute longer. I thought about just curling up with her on the bed in her room until she fell back to sleep. Too bad it was covered with unfolded laundry.

I said a prayer. Just a small quiet prayer for her and for me and for Daddy.

I said it out loud. Sometimes I like to pray out loud when I pray for her. I want the words to stick with her. When I ask God to help her know Him, and to guide her so she can be faithful and strong, and to help me to teach her well, I want her to know I asked Him. I want her to know what my number one goal is in life. I want me to know, too.

Sometimes I forget, and I think it’s photography or writing, or blogging, or weight-loss, or housework, or playing games or watching movies.

But other times, I have the indescribable blessing of being awake in the middle of the night, just lucid enough to understand that I’m holding a miracle in my arms, and able for an instant to see the whole purpose of my life as God created it.

Even before midnight. Are you proud?

I’m feeling shocked that this entire week has passed without a post. I’ve been meaning to and wanting to. I wanted to capture all of the memories from last weekend before they turned to goo in my head. But I’ve been caught up in a frantic whirlwind all week. It seems that I returned from the Idaho Bloggirls weekend of relaxed, responsibility-free girl-bonding time, to life.

Just life. My very busy, and exciting and sometimes gross and weird and stressful and fun and hilarious life. I’m glad to be back. But I’m also glad I took a weekend and let everything fade away for a few days.

My mom always says like her mom always said that a woman is like a pitcher, constantly pouring into the vessels of others, and that unless she takes time to refill herself at the fountain of living waters, she will find herself empty and have nothing left to pour. Though this was intended as a spiritual maxim, I believe it is true in so many ways.

I think if we never take time to refill ourselves with our hobbies, friends, talents, rest, scripture, etc., we are weakened, and can’t keep giving.

So last weekend I got a chance to do just that. In fact, as I drove out of my hometown with my windows rolled down and a mix-tape I made in college singing to me songs of a time when I had a lot less responsibility, I felt my cares fade away, and I got into the party mode.

Everybody else has already posted wonderful rave reviews about the fabulous time we had meeting all our new-found blog-lady friends, and since I’m so late in posting that I’m sure we’ve all moved on to new and better things, I’ll keep it brief.

We laughed, we joked, we told amazing stories that all sounded familiar because we have been avid readers of each other’s lives. We swapped seats at the restaurant with our plates and glasses clutched tightly in our fists. We feasted. We stayed up too late. We made new and amazing friendships, and strengthened old ones. I loved every minute of our time together! It was over too soon.

Suffice it to say, that– (Top-left to right, Bottom-left to right)
Karli, Me, Beth, April, Taffi, Emily, Alicia
Kathryn, Karen, Mary, Erin, Stephanie, Elizabeth, and Brooke were some of the most delightful women I’ve met in a long time. It made me so wish that we were all actually living in Idaho, and could have the incredible feeling of community that filled our whole experience with our Bloggirls getaway. I miss these ladies already. I feel ripped-off that we don’t get to hang out every week. Girls, you made a lasting impression on me. The acceptance and openness of our first meeting won’t be forgotten. I’m sure the laughing strengthened my abs.

And then I came home. It was a long drive with excellent conversation and some lovely singing by our friend Stephanie. And I walked into my house and smelled the new smell of love. Once I thought my husband’s flowers smelled like love. This time, it was the smell of cleaner in the air, and the sight of my perfectly clean house. And there were flowers too, on the table. What a welcome home. What a perfect end to a perfect weekend!

Thanks for waiting around for this post, and thanks for reading. If you’re still here reading, please respond to today’s Getting to Know You.

If you could meet any blogger of your choice, who would it be, and why?

Me first: I would choose Shannon, of Rocks in My Dryer. She amazes me. Her happiness and fulfillment even in the midst of being so incredibly real, her faith, and her love for her family, along with her fabulous writing. Someday soon, Shannon. I’d love to meet you!

Who would you pick?

Because I’m coming back tomorrow. Busy or not, tomorrow there will be postage— or postitude… er. I promise to post tomorrow.

Hasta!

… for a post. I’m SUPER-excited to head to Idaho and meet so many of my new bloggirlfriends! I’m also frantically getting ready. You’d think for once I’d think ahead, and plan accordingly!

We shall return to our regularly scheduled blogging on Monday morning! At which point we’ll announce the dramatic results of this week’s Name That…

Peace, OUT!

For full points in today’s competition, you must correctly answer both questions about a place I have been. Yes, I am fully aware that you’ll be guessing on question number 2.

1. What is the significance of the San Rafael Knob to the world in general?

2. What is its significance to me personally?

And here I am suspending the “no-Google” rule for this week. If internet research can help you with this one, be my guest.

And my family… sorry, no participation on this particular challenge.

Oh, and go check out Jessica and Jon’s embarrassing moments at their sites. Too funny!

Goodbye, and Good Luck.

That’s my 22-month-old. She likes it. She can ask for it by name, and she has cried real tears when she didn’t get it fast enough.

It started months ago when she would ask to “Dance!” and she would get really mad if the music I chose didn’t have enough of a snappy beat for her.

Now, it has to be “This one!” or as she pronounces it, “Si Munn!” And she can ask for her favorite song by name. “Dana, Dana,” she cries. Then when it begins, she hears the opening chords with a skeptical look on her face, waiting to see if I am trying to pull a fast one and put another song on for her.

When we hit the chorus and she loses her ever-living mind. She dances, giggles, flails about, and yells what she thinks are words from the song.

That’s my girl.

That’s also the one who has started calling I love you to strangers when we tell them goodbye after they help us at the store.

That’s the one. The one I love.

I did an embarrassing thing. Or six zillion embarrassing things. I tend to be quite good at that. I wish I could blog some of them, but thanks to my very un-dirty mind, I have blurted out some doozies in my time that would make most of you blush–all completely unintentional, mind you.

But today, here it is, my number one most blog-appropriate embarrassing moment:

Here in my little town, the same town where I went to college, there is a store.

It’s now under new ownership, but back in the day we called it Food for Less.

It was the college hang-out, or at least where all the other college-kids went to obtain their cheap-and mostly-okay-quality-though-purchased-in-a-dingy-atmosphere groceries.

Without further ado, the embarrassing moment.

Grocery shopping was a social event with my roomies, usually done after 10:00 pm. We were silly, and slap-happy, and I was happy.

Exiting the grocery store, I was walking fast when I approached the automatic doors, which I assumed were the open outwards kind.

I was happy, I was hyper, I was walking too fast for the doors to open, and I practiced my nearly-nonexistent martial arts skills to ninja-kick the doors open when they were too slow opening for my taste.

The only problem was, these weren’t open-out doors. They were the slide-from-side-to-side kind. And I kicked them right off their tracks to an open position where they proceeded to make paralytic jerking motions as though trying to retract along their normal pathway.

ummm… that’s it. That’s the moment. I looked up, and the nearest cashier and customers were staring at me. And I just stood there, feeling like a dork. A stupid, guilty dork, because I had just damaged store property.

I pushed the doors back onto their tracks, and they jerked and seized back into their open position.

But it gets worse. I am a guilt-ridden person who must confess for all transgressions, so I forced my red-faced self to go confront the cashier and tell him what I had done. He didn’t really speak to me. He was looking at me like I was from another planet while he waved me out of the store.

The next time I went to Food 4 Less, the doors still moved in their jerky, spasmodic way.

I walked quickly through.

The end.

Are you embarrassed for me?

And now, share. In the comments, or leave a comment telling me you’ve posted on your blog and I’ll link to your post in this one. What is your most embarrassing moment? OH-yeah… and please, only PG rated moments. Otherwise I will be forced to delete you and not link to you. Hey, after all, my mother reads this blog, and she is a nice, polite young lady.

Er… Sorry for using you as my protection against the scandalous embarrassing moments, Mom.

And thanks, Dawn for posting your embarrassing moment!

And once again you guys are NO FUN! In this instance, you are also making me feel like an ignoramus of a mother. Or is that a mother of an ignoramus?

It is indeed, as guessed by our third participant (and many thereafter): Carrie at My Place In The Universe.
Congrats, Carrie!

Hand Foot Mouth Disease.

Just typing that makes me feel like I’m living in a leper colony. What a treat that was! But we lived, and the good news is we shouldn’t get it again until baby #2, and we should recognize it by then.

And to lighten the mood a little, a few recent moments to cheer even the hardest heart.

1. Bean saw the sexies:
As in–you know–”sexies”. Those long skinny reptiles that hiss and slither and stick out their little flickering tongues. She went on a field trip with her Auntie Becky to the local animal museum for a reptile show. She liked the “sexies.” She sat calmly, felt them without fear when they were brought around… and kept sticking her tongue out at the blue-tongued skink. And at the risk of appearing to be the mother of ignoramuses again, what the heck is a blue-tongued …?

Anyway…
2. Bean raises her little 22-month-old hand. Whenever the reptile lady would ask if anyone knew some exciting piece of lizardly trivia, Bean’s hand was the first in the crowd to shoot straight up to answer, before any of her older comrades, never mind that she had no idea what was being asked. I knew it, I just knew it. She’s going to be the brainiac of school when she gets there in about a hundred years.

3. Bean has learned to show sympathy. When I just had to cry on a phone call the other day, Bean climbed into my lap, reached out her arms in a wide invitation to hug, and repeated in a soothing tone, “Come’ere… Come’ere.” I think that of all the things she might learn to say from me, that one… well… it’s the one I’d like to post on the internet for all the world to see.

4. The other day during the night of fever and vomiting, Bean’s fever actually broke while we were having a 3:00 a.m. conversation about whether or not God would help her get well. Tylenol couldn’t do it for us. It took God showing me that he is aware of his children to help her start to heal.

5. SUPPER SWAPPING!– It’s what’s for dinner. I steal a number of ideas per month from my amazing sister, who really shows me a lot about where it’s at in the mothering department, but this is the best pick I ever made. Man! When the roast beef and herbed mashed potatoes and carrots showed up at my house on Monday night without a moment’s preparation or stress on my part, it made me glad to take around the Santa Fe chicken with spanish rice topped with fresh corn/bean pico de gallo last night. Tonight I’m having Jambalaya, and Thursday: Enchiladas. Aaaaaaaaah…. I breathe out a sigh of relief. Now if only someone would come do my dishes from last night.

6. It looks like my mama is going to be healthy, after all. And that was in question. So we rejoice.

7. If I write anymore, you won’t keep reading. Life is good. Hasta!

It all started Thursday afternoon. Oh yeah… and if you already know the answer because I told you, no cheating!

I picked up the Bean from her best friend’s house. Her mom told me that her daughter had a fever that had just developed, and apologized.

I wasn’t worried.

I went to a lovely luncheon hosted by my mother in law with my sisters-in-law and was excited to go. Bean was cranky. She had been cross all morning, and it just got worse. If I tried to do anything without her, she would hold up her arms and beg for a hug. If anyone looked at her crooked or tried to stand too close or offered a hug except me, she cried and clung to me tighter. Halfway through the luncheon, I could no longer deny that she had a fever–and that it was rising.

She didn’t want to eat anything. She was crying all the time, and the fever continued to rise. At one point it was 103.7 a half an hour after I’d administered Tylenol. Her breathing was rapid and shallow. She was waking herself with violent shaking followed by crying. I wasn’t sure, but I suspected fever seizures. She started by throwing up downstairs. all over my front and hers.

We took her upstairs and stripped her and me, and were getting us changed when she started to vomit again on the changing table. Have you ever seen projectile vomiting? I hadn’t. Now I have. Wow. She threw up once there, and then as I opened my mouth in an “O” of sad-surprise, she threw up again right into my mouth, down the front of my clothes, over the top of my head, and down my back. Ummmmm……eeeeeew/blech!

Shower ensued for Mommy and Beanie.

And a tepid bath for the Bean, through which she shivered pitifully.

Next morning, no more fever, although a decreased appetite, and complaining about her mouth.

Sunday morning the rash popped out all over her calves and forearms, along with a couple of pimple-like spots on her feet.

Now, we’ve been to the doctor, and are waiting out the contagion.

And the competition for today, Name that plague…

Give me the name of the virus, and you can be this week’s winner.

My friend found out what it was, using every modern family’s favorite pediatrician, Dr. “Web”

:)