Confessions

Apparently I have enough confession-worthy indescrepencies built up to warrant an entire post, so… help yourself.

  1. Tonight we were going to have Orange Chicken a la Pinterest because I remembered that I had a jar of Orange Marmalade sitting around in the fridge from I don’t even remember what, so.  I pulled it out and it was a little bit expired.
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    Juuuuust a little.  
    The confession part is that I was going to use it anyway.  The FDA recommendations and I don’t really care much for each other.  But then when I opened it I couldn’t remember if that’s how orange marmalade really looks or if the fuzziness was possibly something else, so… I threw it away.  Round of applause, please.
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  2. Jeremy downloaded the first 2 seasons of Downton Abbey for me so I’d have something to watch during the day in “all my free time.”  “Hardy har har!” I said.  Even though I requested it, I figured “free time” was no longer a part of my vocabulary. Maybe if I say it real slow….fffffrrrrrrrrr.  Eeeeee.  T- t- t- nope.  Can’t even say it.But, I started watching Downton day before yesterday.  How many episodes have I gotten through, you ask?  Well…..
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    Ten.  10 ninety-minute episodes (sans commercials!  It makes a difference!)  Don’t judge!  While watching I was folding laundry and couponing and nursing and….ok never mind, judge.  That’s the whole point of this post.
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  3. This was going to be a serious post.  I even had the first paragraph written out, but then WordPress crashed and by the time I got Naomi asleep and the Orange Chicken converted to Aplethoraofcondiments Chicken and WordPress back up and running I decided to do a less serious post because it’s faster and I didn’t have time to write a long post AND finish the episode of Downton I had been nursing all day and I have priorities, people.
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  4. I really like run-on sentences.
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  5. I forgot to bathe Naomi for…more than a few days.  I literally just forgot.  She doesn’t spit up that much anymore so there was nothing to remind me, “Hm. I should probably bathe her.” So I gave her a bath and a couple days went by and Imma get back on track, I promise,  but I allowed last night’s dip in the pool to count for her bath (even though she never submerged deeper than her chest).  Mom of the year!  Right here!
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  6. And finally, take a guess at how many cookies Malachi has eaten in the last two days.  If you guessed 6 or 7 – dingdingdingdingding!  You win!  Complete with two that were drenched in blue food coloring because this whole “I want my family to be organic” thing pretty much gets chucked out the window if it means getting through the grocery store without a meltdown.  Priorities, people.  Represent.

7QT F-F-F-F-Friday

I guess Malachi knows it’s Friday because he’s still rocking out in his crib singing “Ni-Na-Ni-Na Oh Yeah!” even though he was supposed to be asleep an hour ago.  Fun for all! Whatever. He’s still not getting out until nap time is officially ov-ah so Rock on, Crazy Cray.

In other Friday news, linking with Jen because I like it like that.

  1. This.

    I just – I can’t even – OMG.  My favorite part is when he almost falls over.
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  2. Malachi and I crash the Under-2 story time at the library every week and we use Naomi as our excuse.  I even took her out of the car seat the past couple weeks so it wouldn’t look so bad.  Malachi is a big, big, big fan and I have no shame so we go to the 2-and-Up story time now, too.  Normally once I’ve gone through the gymnastics of getting both kids changed, fed, dressed, changed again, packed, out the door, pacifiered, out of the car, and into the library I get a little antsy and come up with other things to do.  Today we went to the mall, ran some errands, had lunch, and Malachi rode some of those quarter cars.  He even got to sit in a real chair because I didn’t feel like trucking the food tray, both kids, my purse, and the stroller allll the way back to the bathroom hallway to grab a highchair which I would have had to balance on my back in order to get it alllll the way back to a table.  He felt pretty proud of himself once he finally decided which seat he could take.  And as you can see, he hated it.
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    Ok, so he doesn’t look as happy as I thought in those pictures, but I promise he and Naomi both had a blast.
    IMG_2675Friday is my favoritest ever ever.
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  3. In case I haven’t talked enough about my kids yet, this is what Malachi did for 2 hours straight yesterday morning. Hopefully this doesn’t mean he’ll take sick enjoyment in calling people and immediately hanging up when he is older. He may have just been excited that he was allowed to use the “Oooooo!” (as he calls the iPad) for so long yesterday. Sick mom = extra screen time = everybody’s happy.

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  4. Malachi must have finally gone to sleep. Hopefully this will pay off into a nap that lasts all the way until Jeremy gets home so we can avoid the post-nap pre-Daddy time of day that I Luh-HUV.
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  5. Wow, did I really just use the first four of my takes on my kids? What’s that you say about not being a mom-blog, Allie?
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  6. I live downtown. Several years ago that would have been kind of a scary statement to make, but now it’s pretty cool. Our downtown has some exciting things going on like new sculptures and construction end-dates in sight and murals and a market and and and…  We also have a big enough mix of hippies, artsies, families, outdoorsies, and sketchies to feel authentic. But every time I start to feel like, yes, maybe we ARE cool and this city ISN’T just a small-town anymore…
    buffaloNever mind.
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  7. Last and probably least (if that’s possible), let’s talk about everyone’s favorite subject: poop!  Just kidding.  I wouldn’t do that to you (again).

Hasta la next time.

Sick of sick of sick

If you take the time to read the above title slowly and grammatically, you will understand where I’m going with this one.

I’m sick of being sick, yes, who isn’t?  But more importantly, I’m just sick of being sick of being sick.  You know?  Those young (fine! younger) people who bounce all around and go to movies and travel and just laugh about the fact that they have a fever and a cold and they just threw up a sec ago make me mad in a jealous, incredulous type of way.  Throw a cold all up in my plans and I’m like “No!  Not fair!  I already don’t sleep!  Now I don’t-sleep more!  I’m always sick!  Why can’t someone else get sick?  Why doesn’t Jeremy wake up when the baby is sick?” etc.

In other words, I’m a pleasure to be around when my nose is stuffed.

I don’t really have a point… I’m just too incoherent to throw down a quality post, so this is what you get.  You’re welcome.

I remember when I was little and I’d get sick and part of me would be SO excited because I got to lay on the couch and watch The Fugitive over and over and over and over (normal child ≠ me) and I got out of dish duty, too, so it was ggggrrrr-eat. Then when I got older and I had to go to work still that was pretty miserable but I wasn’t allowed to really let it show because I was at work, so… I’d come home, Jeremy would cook, and I’d lay on the couch until I got up to lay in the tub until I got up to lay in the bed.

Now that I’m a homemakuh I’m in the in-between of having the luxury of cancelling my day because I’m sick and then the annoyance of kids that don’t understand that I cancelled my day and so I don’t really get to cancel anything except my Fugitive-watching plans.

fugitive

This is my pathetic attempt to add a picture to keep this post more “interesting!” Maybe I should just try again tomorrow.

Woop.

But as any mom will tell you, if mom is sick than one or both of the kids are also sick, and mine are.  Malachi gets sick by watching TV all day so I can deal with that.  Apparently Naomi gets sick by screaming, then taking a long nap, then waking up to scream, then taking another long nap, then being happy for an hour, then screaming, then refusing to nap, then screaming some more, then not going to bed, then finally screaming herself to sleep.  Oh, and then waking up every 45 minutes all. night. long.  So if anyone wants to order me a happy mood with a side of better attitude, bring it.

Martyrs R Us for-ev-er!

7 Quick Takes Completely Random Edition

  1. Talk about a dud of a week.  Not that I would win any homemaker awards, like, ever but this week was exceptionally unawardable.  First I left the fridge and freezer open for over 4 hours.  The only real casualty was my soy ice cream.  After it re-froze it tasted like one big carton of freezer burn – mouthwatering.  The next day I remembered to start the 8-hour crock pot meal at 1:30 in the afternoon, so guess what we didn’t eat for dinner that day.  Not even the high setting could save us.  Last night I succeeded in removing my crying child from her room before she woke up the sleeping child, and then I kicked the most annoying butterfly that ever was and it sang and lit up and woke up Malachi for good measure.  And last night Jeremy quite sweetly asked me if he had any clean socks in the laundry mountain because he’d been wearing the same pair for four days and didn’t say anything so I wouldn’t feel bad.  Thank you, I’ll be here all week.
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  2. In the middle of all that forgetting stuff I did manage to do a couple really random and OCD-type things.  Malachi spilled an entire cup of milk on his car seat and since it’s been nasty hot all week you can imagine how awesome it smelled.  No amount of Febreeze and camouflage could’ve fooled anyone into thinking some man just got out of the shower, unless he was showering in cottage cheese.  So I took his entire car seat apart and washed the cover and wiped it down. But I couldn’t stop there – I also vacuumed and wiped and glass cleaned and reattached the stupid suction cups on the sunshades that NEVER stay stuck and sprayed everything down with a half-bottle of Febreeze and it smells approvable now.  This week I also took the vacuum apart and washed the filters and then made Maggie a little sister out of all the hair she deposited in our carpet.  And I reminded her, again, that when we bought her it was her boxer half that called to us and growing in to her collie hair two months later was really unfair.
    ImageNot the greatest example, but you get the idea.
    I also took the diaper genie completely apart and soaked it in bleach water and then put it back together over the course of the next 45 long whytheheckdidIdothat minutes which REALLY freaked Malachi out because he is a totally normal, well-adjusted child.
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  3. I didn’t feel like I gave good credit to our love story in my last post about how Jeremy and I met, but I guess I was wrong because it was one of my most popular posts ever and people from nine different countries read it.  I can track down four of those countries, but not the other five.  EX-citing.
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  4. In other bloggy news, I updated my about page.  I still think it’s awkward.  Input appreciated.
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  5. I’m trying to decide whether or not I want things to get a little uncomfortable in here.  I have SO many opinions that I never share simply because there are already way to many opinions being hurled around like javelins and I’m too busy ducking.  But suffice it to say I have opinions on lots and lots of things going on in the world (and my little world) right now, and I think my husband might appreciate a break from listening to them all the time.  Not really sure where I was going with that paragraph, so…..onward.
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  6. Malachi is finally growing into his boy-ness.  While we were at the beach he fell down ten stairs, ate a handful of sand, a toe-nail fell off, and he COMPLETELY wiped out in the ocean.  In this cute little video the last split-second shows the very very beginning of the wipe-out but rest assured he got buried under two huge waves and I lost sight of him for a split second and he came up sputtering and begging “House!” because after that he was DONE with the water for the day.  Dee Oh Inn Ee DONE.  But he did manage to tentatively stick a toe back in later so for that I was proud…


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  1. <—-(Can’t figure out how to make that a 7.  Wordpress for the win, again!  I apologize to the OCD among us.)  And finally, a fair warning.  I enrolled Malachi for pre-school this week.  I’m still kind of in denial and I’m also trying not to worry more than once an hour about the whole dropping-him-off while he cries “Momma see!” because…I’m just not sure how I’m gonna do it.  So here’s hoping and praying and praying and praying that he gets over his separation anxiety before then and falls IN LOVE with pre-school because otherwise I might be doing a lot of breaking down via the blog-o-sphere.  And no one wants that.

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Now go see Jen for better linkage because…..yeah, sorry.

How We Met

Linking with Grace at Camp Patton.

Every time I try to remember exactly when Jeremy and I met I get really confused, which is kind of ridiculous – you’d think I could remember something like that.  But apparently I can’t, so I just spent the last 10 minutes exploring this ancient artifact blast-from-the-past and looking at old blogs like this one and old pictures like these and….wow.  That was all sooooooooo long ago and I don’t even know how to process it.  I might need to spend an hour or seven in the near future reacquainting myself with that Memory Lane.

Anyway, apparently we met sometime in 2003, which means that we have known each other for 10 years now. 10! Whole! Years!  And amazingly it feels like waaaay more than that because I was such a child then and since that time I’ve had 2 years of highschool and 3 and a half years of college and 1 graduation and 3 jobs and two houses and 1 husband and 2 kids and a whole lot of maturing.  Moving on.

When Jeremy and I first “met” I was at some kind of youth group shindig and he decided to join (why…? He was in college so….not sure) and my sister and I were watching him walk across the grassy lawn from a distance and our conversation went something like this:

B:  Who’s that?
A:  I don’t know.
B:  He’s kind of cute.
A:  Yeah. He has a really strong jaw line.

Behold:

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This is exactly how he looked when we met but I’ve remedied the haircut, don’t worry.

The only thing I really remember about that night was that I was sitting on a picnic table eating Cheetos and I kept sharing them with Jeremy because it was an excuse to talk/flirt with him and he was taking them from me because it was an excuse to eat free food.

I think we crossed paths in church a couple more times and then I went camping with a family from our church.  On the last day a bunch of people from the church rode up to the lake to have a cook-out with all the campers and Jeremy drove in his van with my sister and someone else insignificant.  Jeremy and I refer to that as The Honeysuckle Day because he and I spent a lot of time walking around picking honeysuckle.  Since he’s from Seattle he had never seen, smelled, or tasted honeysuckle so I schooled him.  We were on the way to his car to get some Tylenol because I had a headache (seriously?  I remember that detail but not what year we met?).  Later that evening Jeremy and I sat and came up with ridiculous excuses to keep sitting together and talking (me scrolling through all the music on his blackberry, him promising to e-mail it to me, me getting excited because that meant I would have his E-MAIL address) and I remember looking up and seeing my pastor who was also a close friend just smiling at us with this very knowing smile.  I would be remiss if I did not say that he had a profound influence on Jeremy and I’s actual getting together.

Thusly the e-mail relationship ensued, but right before that I had the PROFOUND revelation that Jeremy – THIS Jeremy who (luckily for him) I already had a “quiet crush” on as I so-journaled – was the same guy who completely grossed me out by cuddling during church movie night a little too much with his then-girlfriend who went on to hate me and then went on to lose because HAHA!  He’s MINEallmine! and no I will not apologize (though I did not steal him – let’s be clear – but I did keep him).  Once I got past the fact that this was the same guy, I pretty much fell in love and we proceeded to our own grossing-people-out.

Jeremy and I e-mailed and IM-ed a LOT.  My parents also have always taken in “strays” as they call them and Jeremy ended up spending a whole lot of time at our house eating and sleeping and doing homework and eating and doing laundry and sleeping and eating.  And also falling in love with me.

This post could get real long real fast so let me skip on ahead about three years.

Before Jeremy and I ever started dating we broke up.  Yes, you read that right.  I prayed about our relationship a lot and really felt that God was saying “no.”  It was very sad and quite a defining moment for us but it was also probably the best thing that ever happened to us because we took the next four months of hardly talking and always crying and fasting and praying to really  individually figure out who we were and where we stood with God.

Gradually we started re-connecting and four months later I was starting college and he was my lifeline.  He helped me register for classes, find a good dorm, figure out the dining hall, learn how and where to park, and in general he was my sanity and my best friend those first crazy-long, crazy-hard (and in retrospect crazy-short) few months of school.  We both realized that we didn’t know how to be friends without being in love and we were both praying on our own about the future of our relationship.  I read the same verse twice in one day and truly felt the Spirit confirming that now was the time for us to get together.  Literally, the next day, he asked me out.  And boy was he romantic – there was a poem and flowers and candy and a whole lot of awkwardness and it was perfect.

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Jeremy proceeded to celebrate every Valentine’s day in a way that made every single girl on campus jealous (not exaggerating).  Summer after junior year he proposed in an airplane flying over a field where he had written out “Allie, Will you marry me?”  Summer after graduation we got married.  He is the only man I’ve ever kissed.  He’s the father of my children.  He’s my provider, encourager, prayer-warrior, grass-cutter, dog-walker, massage-giver, laugh partner, shoulder to cry on, hand to hold, and my best friend.

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And THAT little novella is how we met, but if you want to hear the 79832759832977659832 details I left out, come ask me in person.

(Un)Certainty

**Have you noticed how long it’s been since I last posted?  I have, and I hate it.  I am itching to write but simply won’t have the time for a few more days.  Until then, this is a blog I wrote on an old project quite a while ago.  It still holds true for me, and hopefully for you, too.

Sometimes I just don’t know.  Sometimes I don’t know what the right thing is.  I know what the Bible says, I know what Christ says, and I trust it.  But I wonder how we’re really supposed to go about it and if our methods are hurting more than they are helping.  Hurting people, hurting our cause, hurting Christ.  Sometimes, it’s really hard to draw lines.  Maybe drawing a line will hurt me and the people around me.  Maybe not drawing a line means I don’t trust what God says. Maybe there are some situations in life where God isn’t asking us to draw a line, or even stand on either side of one.

“‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”  

Sometimes it seems impossible to do both of those things at the same time.  Sometimes loving God, holding to what He says is true, and obeying Him can really, really hurt other people.  Not just offend them, or make them angry, or make them think you are stupid.  Actually hurt them.

But…

But…

Does that mean you aren’t loving them?  Does hurting someone mean you don’t care about them?  Does offending them mean you don’t want what is best for them?  In complete honesty, doesn’t doing the right thing almost always hurt someone, somewhere?

Love God.  Love people.  Speak truth.

Sometimes, I don’t like the truth.  In fact, there are a lot of things God says and does that, if I were God, I wouldn’t say and do.  But you know what?  I’m not God.  I don’t get to tell Him who He is or who He should be.  I accept Him completely, even the things that make me uncomfortable.  And I think that God, in His great sovereignty, understands right and wrong, up and down, hot and cold, back and forth, justice and mercy, judgment and discernment, and even left and right a whole lot better than I do.  I can trust this – even when I don’t like it, even when I don’t feel it – and believe that His ways and thoughts are higher than my ways and thoughts.  Or, I can discard everything that makes me uncomfortable and end up with a “faith” based on my own god-concept, with no roots, no foundation, no certainty, and no backbone.

I don’t understand God, or claim to.  I don’t have all the answers, or claim to.  Sometimes I change my mind.  Sometimes I screw up.  Sometimes I say too much and sometimes I say absolutely nothing and in both situations, I usually err.  Sometimes I might even get it right.  But all of the time, God has the answers.  God never changes.  God never screws up.  God always says enough of the right thing.  God always gets it right.  If He didn’t, He wouldn’t be God.

He is sovereign.  He is holy.  He is loving.  He is just.  He is right.  He is.  And when I can’t trust the world, when I can’t trust people, when I can’t trust the lines, when I can’t trust myself, I can trust Him.  So can you.