our little corner of the world

Well, we survived the three-day drive home from Florida. We've been home just over 12 hours and have managed to get a good night's sleep, eat a familiar breakfast, unpack completely, get groceries, start two loads of laundry, and take the infamous belly shots. It's so good to be home.

On Friday night, our family headed to the airport with excitement for our big trip to Florida for Baby Luke's baptism. As we passed the three hour flight to Miami with Morgan passed out across our laps, it dawned on me... we were getting quite a deal. Technically, we were flying as a family of four, sitting in just two seats, but only paying for just one, thanks to my previous deal. I'm certain that was a once in a lifetime occurance!

It's been four fun days in the sun, and we're sad to be leaving tomorrow. Sarah and Doug have been nothing short of fabulous. And we've enjoyed every minute of our stay.

The reason for our visit

Fun at the beach

Lunch on Ocean Drive

Last night here

In the morning, we'll be starting our journey in "Daddy's new car" all the way back home. I'm hoping to bring some of this sunshine back home with us!

Being pregnant a second time is definitely a different experience than the first.

Physically, I noticed an uncertain queasiness in the first trimester. It's quite possible I felt this way with Morgan, but working full-time may have occupied my mind then. While I'm still committed to caffiene-free beverages, I'm certainly more relaxed about my diet and exercise. And the only books being checked out of the library these days are about Sesame Street, not pregnancy-related topics.

In a way I feel like my child is already suffering from SCS - my own term - second child syndrome. You know that lack of attention that non-firstborns put up with? So I'm trying hard to keep up with consistency while I can. Weekly belly shots? Check. Ultra sound pictures safely stored? Yes. A Rubbermaid keepsake tub? On the shopping list.

So while it might seem self-indulgent for me to post pictures of my expanding belly, today starts the weekly count to 40. Besides, it's fun to compare these pictures to those of 2006.

It's a known fact that I have a tiny issue with patience.

At times, I am likened to a senior citizen in the Meijer checkout, with my eyes annoyingly watching the pen of the person in front of me who whips out a checkbook to pay for the groceries. I become anxious in the passenger seat of our car when drivers in the fast lane won't move over for Scott. Sometimes I even mutter things. Aloud.

It's not pretty, this impatience. But it's me. I am willing to admit this weakness. Marrying Scott has helped me conquer (somewhat) this little blemish of my character, and I like to think I've come quite far in my time tolerance. Most often, though, I struggle with challenges that are deeper than tracking my order on UPS.com.

And so it was last summer and fall as my personal time table wasn't matching up with God's. I couldn't understand why things just weren't going my way. After all, I was armed with lots of knowledge that was put into practice regularly!

I prayed for God to give in to my plan. And I prayed often. Then it hit me. I had to change my prayer. Instead of "fulfill my wishes, Lord" it was "give me the patience and peace to understand that you are in control, and things will happen when you are ready, not me."

Not a month went by before we learned I was pregnant!

Come August, Scott and I will have another little one to bring us joy in this house, and we couldn't be more happy. Already our baby is loved and eagerly anticipated. Our early ultrasound has adorned the front of our fridge for a month now.

In the midst of this pregnancy, though, I'm doing my best to appreciate our current state of being. I'm enjoying my freedoms, my uninterrupted sleep, and my downtime. I'm trying hard to let the planner in me take a rest, and instead, take pleasure in these next six months.

It's great how God works, isn't it? All he wants is for us to be close with him. To put him first. Yet time and again, I forget to consult the one who already knows the plans for my life.

So I'm still learning. I'm not perfect. Luckily my husband and children don't expect me to be perfect. And neither does my heavenly father.

Will my patience change? Probably not completely. Have I learned something? Most definitely. Now it's just a matter of practicing it regularly.

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.

2 Corinthians 12:9

This afternoon we drove south to an historic, classy, neighboring suburb to see the home our friends had recently purchased. With gorgeous details, wood floors and character only time can lend, this 1930's house is a charmer. And it's big at four bedrooms, several bathrooms, and lots of neat nooks at every turn.

It's fun to imagine the shape their home will take over time as they work hard to make it their own. It's mostly fun for me to imagine what I would do, or how I would decorate all of that gorgeous space. I tend to do that... visit other people's homes and let the wheels of my brain turn, dreaming about what I could do, as if it belonged to me.

On the way home from our visit, we stopped at our favorite Chinese restaurant. It's such a favorite that we know the total of our bill before we even order. Our combination plate, plus an additional cup of won ton soup and an egg roll feeds all three of us with no leftovers.

Over dinner we discussed the size of the great, new (old) house that our friends had. We talked about all of the space, all of the rooms, and how much fun Morgan had roaming and running freely. It was fun to dream about our future in a bigger house. As the bill came out with our fortune cookies, we smiled as we read $12.19.

I cracked open my cookie, read my fortune and tossed it aside. And then Scott handed his over to me with a funny grin.



How ironic. And how true.

This small sentence was pretty powerful. Sometimes it feels like our happiness is being rerserved for the future. We're always thinking the grass is greener elsewhere. It's hard to remember that our happiness can be bursting out of the windows and slipping out underneath the drafty doors of our small, ranch home. It shouldn't be reserved for a future we know nothing about.

Challenging as it may be, I have to remember that we've traded oodles of family happiness for a commitment to live here indefinitely. It's quality over quantity right now for us. And that's okay.

Just like our cheap eats tonight, so is our lifestyle. Small, but mighty.

When Morgan went from two naps down to one (which was rather late in the game, Fall 2008), her world became transformed every morning at 9:00 a.m. She became hooked, as millions of other children have been for four decades, on Sesame Street.

Encouraging her excitement for the characters, up from the basement came the well-loved, fifteen-book set that my parents received when pledging to PBS circa 1980. The memories came flooding back. I remember some of my favorites, as is evidenced by the tattered pages and binding...

Grover Going Up in the elevator to the roof-top pool.
Prairie Dawn conquering the metropolis as a courier on a Special Delivery.
Bert and Ernie getting crazy on a rainy day in their living room in Anyone Can Play.

Morgan now has favorites, too. She also enjoys counting her way to the swimming pool. She gives a sweet "shh" as she sees the librarian do the same to Grover as his excitement takes over the library. She also loves Cookie Monster's attempt to help Bert and Ernie make soup, and then - "uh-oh" - eating the whole pot in one gulp.

She is fascinated and knows every character by name. So when Scott and I discovered we could get tickets for Sesame Street Live for half-off on Super Bowl Sunday, we thought it would be a great chance to dip all six of our feet in the water together. After all, we had never done anything like this with Morgan before, and weren't sure how her cautious personality would take to bright lights, loud music and larger than life characters.

There was no need to be worried. We weren't even parked before Morgan noticed the billings plastered on the side of the theatre walls. "Elmo! Elmo! See 'em? Elmo!"

As we walked inside the beautifully vintage foyer, her eyes darted quickly around at all things Sesame Street. I was taking in the detail of the architecture. Morgan was taking in the posters, the balloons, the t-shirts, the flags. We had arrived.





Our seats from the mezzanine were perfect. A safe distance from the stage, we were still able to see it all, as well as make quick exits to the bathroom as Morgan deemed necessary.



As Big Bird and Elmo opened the show, Scott and I exchanged glances as we witnessed Morgan's reaction to it all. She was elated. In an odd way, I found this moment just as moving as any of her other firsts. A lump was in my throat as I watched her experience a new milestone.







Each time a new character came out, Morgan became excited and called it's name, pointing.





Morgan's reaction to the Elmo's World scene.
How I wish this picture had been in focus.

At intermission, the $10 Elmo balloons came out. Our friends had warned us ahead of time not to succomb to the purchase, and we didn't. Instead we empathized with every parent whose child just couldn't heed the warning "don't let go" as their ten dollar bills slowly wafted to the ceiling of the theatre. Ouch.

After 90 minutes (and admittedly, a slight headache), we headed home exhausted. What fun we had! What an experience.