20 years on St. Patrick's Day

C's thoughts on what love is

Twenty years ago today, I had my first date with my husband. Twenty years! Wow that went fast! For our first date, we saw the movie "The Hunt for Red October" and then talked until 1am at the little park near my grandmother's house. I didn't want him to go home but was astonished at how late it was! (We both had early church the next day and Spring Break on that Monday). While I don't have pictures from that first date, I do have these, from my 20th birthday, just six weeks later. It surprises me how young we look!

Things I remember from this time:

We had our first date and then I left to spend a week at Seaside with my family for Spring Break. I missed him terribly with an ache that confused and surprised me. I remember asking my brother if that was weird, to feel that way, to feel so deeply and intensely after just one date. He told me "no." and I remember how that made everything different--how I felt I needed to rethink things. I lived with my Grandmother at the time, and I remember hearing the phone ring as I let myself in (she was also out of town) and answering the phone and hearing Joel say "Oh! You're home!" as if he'd been feeling the same feelings all week. We made plans for another date. And another, and another, and another.

How exciting everything was! We couldn't bear to be in the same room with each other without touching--knees, shoulders, holding hands, sitting by each other--not necessarily touching in intimate ways, more like to remind ourselves that this was real. I felt so lucky! (I still feel that way). We spent as much time together as possible. I got a "D" in Organic Chemistry because he was far more interesting to me than how carbon combined with other molecules. I felt like we had to make the most of things because Joel submitted his mission papers about the same time we started dating, and that meant we only had a couple of months to spend together before he left for two years. When he left, we didn't make any firm or lofty promises or committments; we just knew we wanted to be together and hoped we'd still feel that way when he came home.

We did. Six months after his return, about 2 years and nine months from that first date, we were married.

And the rest is history. My history. The best kind of history.

The Last Baby

Today I watched your thin little gangly arms as you manipulated buttons to add and subtract your way through your math sheet. I watched the sprinkling of freckles across your nose and cheeks. I noticed how beat up your glasses were—rust spots, color rubbed off the frame, not to mention the dot of E6000 industrial strength glue holding one side together until we can see the eye doctor next month and order our yearly pair—and I just wanted to eat you up.

I am acutely aware of time passing in moments like this. You are only mine for a blip really, only going to be with me for a very short part of what I hope is a very long life. And it hurts. It hurts that you won’t always be a little boy that comes up to me and says out of the blue “I want to hug you Mama” and then after a short (but satisfying squeeze) you run off to continue building your legos or your K’nex or playing your wild imaginary game.

Katherine Center wrote a beautiful essay to accompany a video she created for the Mom 2.0 Summit that included the phrase “I have to love you this fiercely” and that thought, that idea, that intense mother love has been on my mind ever since. I have to love you this fiercely because oh-so-soon, you will grow up and go. You will leave my nest. There will be no more sprinkle of freckles with skinny arms sitting at next to me as we work our way through the necessary exercises of our individual lives.

I know that this is the natural order of things. I’m okay with it really. You should grow, progress, reach goals, find a life, find a wife, and find your own sprinkle of freckles to love fiercely. It would be weird and off-kilter if you didn’t. I knew all of this before I built your body and brought you here. I just didn’t realize that this delicious time would be so short. That wasn’t in my “What to Expect” books.

So I’ll work harder to keep each precious moment, each snuggle, each hug. I may hold on too long some days. I’ll kiss your neck and hold you close and share frozen yogurt and love every aching minute of it and as you grow and progress and move forward in life, I’ll try to do the same. That way, when the day comes that you fly away, I’ll hopefully be able to let go easily, to handle the flight, even just a little bit.

And I’ll always remember this day, with the freckles and the skinny arms and the buttons and be glad of it.

Katherine Center's video (in case you haven't seen it yet)

I don't know why this choked me up a bit, but it did

So yesterday, in Church, I noticed a young boy and his little sister sitting off by themselves. I didn't think much of it. Didn't even really notice that there weren't any parents with them. The boy was about 12, I think, and the girl is about 4.

Then while leading the music at the children's worship part of our meeting, I was struck by this little girl's dress. It was just a lovely little thing, with a lovely print. She looked very clean and neat and sweet. I remembered some more details about her--mostly that her family hadn't been to church for awhile, and that what started them coming in the first place was her brother. He was baptized about a year ago, and started bringing them all (all being his sister and his mother) to church with him. But it had been about six months or so since I've seen them around.

What choked me up was noticing them a third time as I left the building. This brother and sister had come to church all by themselves. On a bike. Well, the brother was on a bike and pulled his sister with a bike trailer attached to his bike. He was buckling her into the trailer as I went past, and adjusting the rain hood on the trailer so she'd stay warm and dry. (remember that I live in Oregon--January is not kind biking weather) He didn't have a coat, but had his bike helmet on. I wished them safe travel and hurried to my car to get on my way. I saw them last as he crossed the big intersection on his bike, pulling his sister home. To him, being at church was so important that he'd ride his bike in inclement weather, pulling his sister behind him. What can I say, it got to me. I love church and I love going, but I don't know if I'd have that same kind of devotion. I wished I could do more for him, but also reasoned that he was doing pretty well as it was. Anyone with that kind of self-discipline and fortitude is going to be just fine.

It's a Birthday!

from the end-of-June photoshoot, blogged HERE



We rolled up the invitation in a plastic envelope and stuck it in the center of the cupcake. We are planning a "Birthday Mystery" party that'll be part Amazing Race, part Solve the riddle. Even the information came in the form of a clue:

Get a Clue!
Join us for a
Birthday Mystery Party!
Here’s your first clue:
Meet at the ad from the 1800’s, near the Sunburst.
Lost? Look for the
purple balloons.

She's 15, and excited to be older.
In a way, I am too. I'm excited for the future of our friendship. I'm excited for the experiences she's going to have. It's going to be quite a ride!

OH!~ Since I'm pretty sure the invitees to this party DON'T read my blog, here's where we are meeting:

I'm Thankful for Future Opportunities

Try a little Tenderness

This Boy.

This boy is six years old.

This boy can be so EXASPERATING!

This boy can make me absolutly CRAZY with his whines and wants and fits. (I see the other mothers of six-year-olds nodding their heads in understanding.)

This boy can also be incredibly tender. Case in point: While crafting for the Bazaar, I inadvertently cut the side of the bottom knuckly of my thumb. Not wanting to bleed on what I was making (people don't really appreciate that), I asked him to get me a bandaid. I turned around to take it from him, and he said, "Here, Mom, let me do that." and proceeded to oh-so-carfully put the bandaid on the cut while pulling the little tabs off to the side so that it stayed sterile, just like I do for him. When he'd finished, he said, "There, that'll do it!" and gave me a little pat. My heart just melted into lovey goo.

Oh, this boy...

Happy Birthday Joel!

This is the man I married nearly 17 years ago. Our first date was just a bit more than 19 years ago. I’m happy to report that it’s still going strong.

He usually takes very goofy pictures like this:

There’s something about having a camera in front of his face that brings out the goofy mischievous side of him. I finally had to tell him that “we deserve to have some good pictures of you!” I’m still working on that.

My favorite picture of us:

This was taken when we went to Boston in May 2006. What a great trip! I am longing for another—especially another trip with him. We usually get away for a bit around our anniversary but circumstances prevented that this year. I didn’t realize what a touchstone those trips were for me until I found myself yearning for a getaway with him this spring. Circumstances have yet to materialize to make that possible. It seems we’ll have to make our own.

I love being married to him. Even with the goofiness and so on, being married to him is such a wonderful place to be. Occasionally I dream a night that something terrible has happened to him and I am now alone in the universe. I had such a dream last night. Half asleep, I reached across the bed to make sure he was there and instead of his sleeping form my fingers closed around the small toy left there by my six-year-old when he took himself to his own bed. “It’s okay,” I reassured myself, “he’s just downstairs.” But it was 1:30 in the morning and my paranoid self rules that hour of the night. Half asleep, I reached over again to see if anything had changed. Still nothing. Now my paranoid self was fully awake even though the rest of me was asleep and was imagining all sorts of horrors, from being caught in a videogame world to a heart attack on the couch just as he was coming to bed. I was left with no choice but to stumble to the top of the stairs and whistle our special “I love you” whistle and then listen for the right response. He was alive and well and all was right in my world. My rational self was now able to take over and put my paranoid self in its place and go back to sleep.

I don’t have any big secrets to a long and lasting relationship. It’s full of ups and downs. I do know this though—it’s easier when you grow together. When the rocks in his head fit the holes in my head. I know that I could ask him for anything and he would do everything in his power to provide it for me. So I try not to ask. And I try to give enough back to him on a daily basis to stay worthy of the asking, should I decide that I need to. It works for us.

It’s his birthday soon. He’ll be the same number as I am. He loves to lord it over me during those three months or so between our birthdays that I am, indeed, his “old lady.” I stopped being bothered by that awhile ago, but I play along—it’s fun to be all harrumphy about it, and besides, soon enough, the calendar catches up to him and all is somewhat equal again.

We are good together. I’d choose him again. Each time. Every time. I look forward to our future together.

She was as surprised as we were...

I was so proud I thought I would cry. Each year, the 8th grade band students vote on who wins the "Outstanding 8th Grade Band Member." Criteria include leadership in the band, helping others, attitude, and so on. The Director gets power of ratification and veto. Only a few students are chosen, and it's a pretty big honor. No one knows who will be picked until it's announced. She was one of the students chosen this year. I should add that I really wasn't surprised, because I know that she is totally deserving of the award. Still, the not knowing ahead of time made it a wonderful surprise for all of us!

No Ordinary Stories

gratuitous picture of the Oregon Coast just to get your attention and because everyone thinks blog posts are more interesting when there are pictures to look at and because I think that this blog post will be VERY interesting.

I promised awhile back that I would tell you more about a project that I'm doing for Stampin'Cat that is near and dear to my heart....and now is the time.

The name of the project is "No Ordinary Stories" and it is an idea that has been bouncing around in my brain and filling my heart for some time now. It's something I've believed in since I was very young. It's a simple idea, but one that is often overlooked. If you distill it down to one basic thought, it is this--in every life, in every person, there are No Ordinary Stories.

Some of you are confused--isn't that the name of the project? Let me explain with what I wrote to introduce the class. I think that it will make more sense then.

I believe we are significant.
I also believe that we forget this important fact.

Let’s talk about stories for a minute. Let’s talk specifically

about other people’s stories.

We can’t get enough of other people’s stories.

We read them in the news, in magazines,

in books, sometimes in the tabloids, on the internet,

and in blog after blog after blog.

We can’t get enough. We are riveted.

Yet when it comes to our own stories, we downplay.

We stammer and become suddenly shy.

We feel like we have nothing to say.

Some of it is that we are taught

not to brag or boast, we are taught not to be prideful.

We decide that our own stories are not worth telling.

I believe we are significant. I believe our stories are significant.

They deserve to be Celebrated, Lived, Loved, and Shared.

I believe that there are
No Ordinary Stories.
Your stories need to be remembered and written down. Your stories matter.
If you don’t tell your stories,
Who will?

I believe those words with all my heart. I believe that somewhere along the way down the road or path or superhighway of our life, we forget parts of ourselves. We get busy furthering our careers, or wiping noses, or going to class, or cooking dinner, or driving to the next destination on our list, or washing load after load after load after load of laundry that we forget to remember how great we really are. Sometimes we might even forget who we are.

This is what I propose: Let's start writing down these stories. I would love to see this blog post passed around and around and around and around. I'd love to see a whole grassroots movement of women remembering their significance in tangible ways. Let's link and share and link and tell and write and share and link again, until we are all connected with a web of words and stories and significance.

I'll provide a prompt here if you get stuck. But I hope that once you start telling your stories, they will just tumble out of you and one story will lead to another and another and another and you'll have a notebook or a folder or a journal or a blog just full of all of your wonderful stories.

I can't wait to read yours.

This was too important to keep to myself!

I saw it first on Cathy Zielske's blog--but I have women friends like this, and I knew I had to share it here~





I am moving closer to the land of the well...thanks for your good wishes!

We lost our kitty yesterday...

We found her under Joel's car. He'd just refilled his anti-freeze on Saturday, so we think she may have licked the drips. We'll never know for sure. She was a very, very sweet kitty. Great mouser too. I figure she was about 8 years old. She was born in my closet. I gave her a love and a pet when I put her out at 5am, and we found her about 1:30.

I am SICK! Send any good wishes/vibes/prayers my way. I've been getting up to work, and then going back to bed for the rest of the day. I also need a crack seamstress who can make my daughter's dress for her first church youth dance tonight. Any takers? It's an easy pattern!

Anyway, just keep us in your thoughts. The kids were pretty upset about the kitty. Even Joel, who wasn't the cat's biggest fan, will miss her mousing skills.

Yesterday, she turned fourteen

And I'm not entirely sure I'm ready for this next phase of her life. She's my oldest, and I depend on her a lot. Sometimes more than I should. So far, we are navigating the murky waters of teenhood pretty well. I hope that continues. Something I DO know, is that she is amazing, and I'm proud of her all the time and glad she is mine.

Things I Know Today--Grateful Edition

Crater Lake Oregon. Taken by me in 2006 (I think)

• I miss my mother terribly--but I'm grateful for the 14 months we had while they lived here.


• I'm grateful that my 5 year old seems to be outgrowing his speech delay and other delays in leaps and bounds. He's already starting to read to me and is hungry for knowledge each day. Go Mrs. Weldon! (she was H's kindergarten teacher as well, and she is a fantastic teacher!)


• I'm grateful that my almost 14 year old daughter still talks to me about the important things on her mind.


• I'm glad that we can spend Thanksgiving with so much of Joel's family. He's one of 9 children, and 7 of them live close enough to come to Thanksgiving. Our family dinners usually include about 50 people. One remarkable year we only had 35. I've never cooked a turkey. But I've peeled lots of potatoes (well Joel does most of the peeling) for mashed potatoes.


• I'm grateful for the freedoms we enjoy in this country. I'm grateful for the time when people work together for the greater good.


• I'm grateful for all of my material blessings. We are lucky enough to enjoy several wants and have no unfufilled needs.


• I'm grateful for the knowledge that I am a daughter of God who knows me and loves me.


• I'm grateful for an extended network of loving supportive friends. There are times when it's my friends who get me through the day.


• I'm also grateful for those who read this blog. I'd probably write anyway, but it's nice to know people are reading what I have to say.


• I'm grateful for my kids, my husband, and the togetherness our little family enjoys.


• I'm grateful for paper and crafty outlets.


• I'm glad I can sing. I love singing.


• I'm grateful for hugs and kisses from my kids


• I'm grateful my middle child H has started coming into my room to talk to me about girls before going to bed. I sometimes worry that he gets lost in our daily life. I like being able to connect with him each night.


• I'm grateful for my health. I'm learning that you can't take it for granted.

I'd like to encourage you to give some definitions to what you are grateful or thankful for. Not just because of Thanksgiving, but because it can really help your perspective. Perspective, in my opinion, is a good thing. Hopefully, you'll find you have more good in your life than you thought.

And that's the other side.

Yesterday he ordered off the regular menu

and I'm not sure I'm ready for him to leave the kids menu behind...

More Newsies pictures coming.

Who Supports You?

I'm very excited for tonight's "My Favorite Things" party with a group of my girlfriends. It's a small group (on purpose) and we each bring the girls in the group something that represents our favorite thing for the year. We've been meeting now for--well this is the fourth year. Usually we meet around Christmastime, but our founder and hostess wanted to do it earlier this year. I really love this group of women, and love picking things out for them. I try to personalize my favorite things for each of them. One year I made Swarovski crystal bracelets, one year I gave candles and my favorite lip balm; I'd tell and show you what I'm giving this year, but I want it to be a surprise. I'll take pictures before I wrap it up and show you tomorrow.

I'm very lucky to have a wonderful group of girlfriends here in Albany. There's the MFT group, as well as my Project Friday group, my coast retreat group, among others. It's such a blessing to me to have women friends who love and support me, where I am safe to express my ideas, thoughts and opinions. Where I can be loved and supported even if I am disagreed with. And half of my enjoyment comes from getting to love and support them back. It's definitely a two-way sharing relationship.

Who supports you? Who do you support? Is it an online community or is it a local group. Is it your sisters (or your brothers) or your husband? I know I have my husband's unquestioning love and support, but it's different to have your girlfriend's love and support. I cherish those differences. I joke that a good part of our Project Friday group meetings revolves around girlfriend talk therapy.

It comes down to this: we all need to love and be loved in return. We need a safe place to share ideas equally. And I think, that we as women, need a greater circle that just our husbands to love us so we can grow and thrive. Here's to women friends!

And that's the other side.

Tomorrow at Stampin'Cat Studio

Well, it's the third Saturday of the month, and that usually means you can find me teaching back-to-back classes at Stampin'Cat Studio. Tomorrow's gems are "I Carry You In My Heart"--an accordion "art book" to put on display featuring the famous e.e. cummings poem, lots of different adhesives, coasters, Distress Inks, stamps, Making Memories Travel papers (an "oldie" but one of my favorites), ribbon bits and my favorite "faux-handwriting" technique. More on that later.
After that, I'm doing a Heidi Swapp Clock class. I used the Tim Holtz inking tool to make my background, as well as a couple of sets of Technique Tuesday stamps and some Heidi Swapp bling. I also forgot to take the protective film off the front of the clock overlay before I put my goodies on it. I didn't even know it was there. I don't feel so bad, 'cause Lisa (the store owner) did the same thing when she made hers.

That would be my hubby holding the clock for me.

If you live near Salem, Oregon, you should really check out the store---it's a papercrafting wonderland!

I'm also hoping I can connect with Amber. I have some vintage baby patterns (meaning things I wore as a child) for her and she has some ribbon for me! Lovely!

My Momma's Gone

(picture taken at H's pinewood derby. One regret I have is that I didn't get my parents to sit for a better picture.)

Today, early this morning (at "o-dark thirty" as my Dad would say) my parents embarked on their move BACK to the Kansas City Missouri area. They were here by me for just over a year. I'm kinda sad to let them go. At the same time, I know that they loved living in that area when they lived there before (they are moving back to the same suburb even) and I'm really proud of my Dad. He works for Comcast selling commercial internet services and such. He's pretty good at it. So good that Comcast wanted him to come to the KC area to start up the same kind of sales there. It'll be a good thing overall, but today, I'm kinda sad that my Mom is gone, and that we didn't have enough time to do all the things we talked about doing when they moved here last May. I don't really have regrets about much--we did a lot while we could. We just ran out of time.

Maybe we'll go to Missouri for Christmas.

Let's Talk about Love!

Staying in Love takes work. It just does. Ask anyone in a long-term relationship and they'll agree. It's not all sunshine and roses, nor is it a bodice-ripping romance all the time (some of the time maybe, but not all the time! *wink-wink*). In June, I'll have been married for 15 and a half years. My parents will celebrate their 39th wedding anniversary, and Joel's parents will be married for 51 and a half years. I think they'll all agree that staying in love takes work.

One of my favorite songs about staying in love is by Kathy Mattea. Go follow the link, watch the video and come back. (and if someone could tell me how to put the video directly in my blog, I'd love the help. I've tried to follow YouTube's directions and came up with nothing). Now my DH and I don't dance on our porch surrounded by gauzy curtains (in fact, one of the things my hubby made quite clear as we dated was that dancing just wasn't his "thing" and that's okay), but we do try to continue to date each other. Sometimes we just sneak away for an hour--Starbucks for cocoa and a rice krispie treat, browsing at Borders,--basically some time just for us. We do things that remind us how much we need romance. It's something we need on a regular basis. Chances are you do to.

Go find something that keeps those home fires burning for you and your sweetie. You'll be glad you did.