Kris's Sing-a-Long Blog

My strangest friend

2012-02-01T18:38:00.000-08:00

I wanted to mark (for historical and nostalgic reasons) that this winter has been exceptionally mild in the Chicago land area. Today I wore a little skirt and aviator glasses. The latter being a gift from my brother in law for Christmas who said (and I quote)"I wanted you to look like Goose's wife." I told him that made me very sad because she was widowed so young. But he insisted with Ray Ban's like these that she probably found her way to the Bahamas and is just now frolicking with the pool boy, Sergio. It's a little weird because I happen to name the ridiculously cherished body pillow that he also bought me Sergio...I think I'm sensing a theme here. And that theme being "Life is good when you add Latino men to it." But anyway....Back to the weather. It is fantastic for the sunshine and greenery that a girl like me craves, but sad when Cole is BEGGING daily to go sledding and keeps sadly glancing at his little toy (unused) shovel every time we go into the garage. I haven't had that Winter Moment! yet where I long to be stretched out on the sofa, under the blankets with a good book and a cup of cocoa. Why, just this morning I got an iced mocha and a little piece of me felt sad for that fact alone. We'll see....Maybe an ice storm will blast it's way through our lives and remind me of my contempt but for now I almost ache for that beautiful glowing white. That excuse for movies and music and sipping while you watch each flake fall to the earth, knowing that each one is different than the one before. Winter, never in my life would I have believed that I'd miss you. But I wouldn't mind if you stopped by every now and again.

Winter Warmth

2012-01-31T09:25:00.000-08:00

The longest conversation I've ever had with Cole

2012-01-30T17:36:00.001-08:00

C-How come animals outside Mama?
Me-It's okay. Dad scared the raccoon away when he went outside. It's gone.
C-Did it go in a tree to get apples?
Me-Um, Sure? I think maybe it did.
C-Then I throw my shirt and diaper in the tree to scare it. He not eat them apples if my diaper is on it. He not want my diaper.
Me-No one wants your diaper honey. I think that's a very, very good idea.
C-(Struggling to get off pants) Okay Mom. I scare away animals with my butt.

I know that I didn't biologically make this child. But he is mine!

The first star I see

2012-01-29T19:45:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I wish it was 1932 and I had to wear a hat and gloves everywhere I went. Sometimes I wish the moon would overcome the sun and it would remain dark forever. I think about a world where Macaroni and Cheese is the healthiest thing you can eat and everyone just can't believe that I stick to such a stringent diet. (Those are just my tastes is all I can answer.) Sometimes I wish that Eric and I lived in Paris and kissed under the Eiffel tower whenever we had a fancy. (I think we should use the word fancy more often) I also think that it should be okay to cry in public and to shout Amen! when someone says something that grasps your heart. Sometimes I wish we could just share what we feel. Sometimes I wish that Otis Redding still toured and that everyone craved the smell of Clove cigarettes. I wish I could be artistic and paint things that stirred other things and made people believe that I thought. Sometimes I wish I knew where this was all ending up. Sometimes I wish I knew.

Next time I'll wear lipstick

2012-01-16T11:37:00.000-08:00

While the boys and I were leaving the zoo today, twin brothers were shoving each other and one of them bumped into me. He said he was sorry and I told him it was alright. Then he turned to his brother and said, "See? You just made me run into that fat old lady."

Thoughts I am thinking today: (Episode 1)

2012-01-12T10:54:00.000-08:00

1) Seeing Cole's reaction to snow might be my favorite thing about this season.

2) Maybe I should chop my hair. I am kind of getting sick of it.

3) The fact that Mitt Romney is emerging as the Republican front runner makes me sad.

4) I wish the underwear I chose to wear did not have so many holes in them. And that I wouldn't have bent over so much at Bible study this morning.

5) I love cheeseburgers and fries. I'd also like to be Ms. America. It's time to make a difficult choice honey.

6) "The Movie Goer" by Walker Percy is an excellent book and was given to me with timely divination. (Thanks to my brother, Lyle Frankenstein)

7) Wow! Do I like my husband! Sometimes I wish we could just elope. I would elope him so hard.

8) I will never say the word, Cuddles, again. If you want to know why, get up from your computer and go look at yourself in the mirror. Then just say it...Cuddles. I think we're all on the same page now.

9) Pete's Fresh Market, right by my house, is hiring. Do I? Should I? Would I?

10) I should probably start drinking more water.

1-11-12 A decade since our first date

2012-01-11T19:18:00.000-08:00

The Intruder

2012-01-08T12:22:00.001-08:00

Oh depression,

Haven't you learned by now? You've seen my smile, my delight in the new day. You have watched my love for my children evolve and my joy return from the faded black.

Why do you think that you will bind me?

Go ahead and try to grasp me with your scarred hands. Whisper those intimidating words to me in the dark. Attempt to steal my mind.

You may look for me at the bottom, but I will not be found by you. I have moved from your shadow and will not be bound by your darkness. In fact, my friends and I laugh at your antics when you are not around.

I have a resolve in me. A love and hunger for this life I've been given.

So tempt me with your company. Sing to me with your enchanted voice. I may turn my head and look your way from time to time but I will give you nothing.

Well, except for a middle finger sticking high up in the air. A perfectly polished one too...

Raise your glass!

2012-01-02T16:51:00.000-08:00

My New Year's Resolutions for 2012:

1.) Learn to speak proper English and completely phase out interjections such as 'like' out of my vocabulary and stop exaggerating and stretching my words to make my point. This is going to be very hard for me. Like, the hardest ever you guys.

2.) Throw a glass of bourbon at the wall and scream 'You bastard!' the second anyone disagrees with me.

3.) Take up drinking bourbon.

4.) Spread more joy. I can be such a downer sometimes. This year I tuck away my Worst Day Ever! stories and talk more about the time I saw the zoo keeper slip and fall while sweeping up the elephant poop. And how I tried to film it but my camera got stuck in my stupid purse like it always does...Hey! Wait a minute 2011 Kris, no one invited you.

5.) Wink suggestively during all dentist cleanings.

6.) Say the words, "I made a craft" at least once. And mean it.

7.) Love more quickly. Anger more slowly. And always seek the Truth.

Thank you for continuing to share the journey friends! I am hopelessly indebted to each one of you for the magnificent amount of happiness this blog brings to my tiny life. I pray that this year is inconceivably marvelous for you all. CHEERS!

Paradox

2011-12-28T12:16:00.001-08:00

I got a new car last night! Hurray!

I got a speeding ticket today! Boo!

Whirlwind

2011-12-26T17:44:00.000-08:00

If I was an optimist-I would describe this past Christmas season as incredible! It started with a fun night of us listening to Christmas music and decorating the tree together. We watched all the holiday classics under warm blankets at night. We went to holiday parties galore with incredible food and lots of good cheer and company. I shared my favorite story, "A Christmas Carol", by seeing the play with Cole and my nephews. The boys now have added the words "baby Jesus" to their vocabulary and all my Christmas cards were out on time and sealed with a kiss. Eric and I held hands as much as we could while sipping peppermint coffees and snuggling to songs that included lines like "Let your heart be light."

If I was a pessimist-I would describe this past Christmas season as awful! From the moment we put up the tree, Miles tried to chew through all the lights and Eric cursed under his breath every time the thing tilted. (It eventually just collapsed on the dining room floor.) Our schedule was so demanding that the kids skipped too many naps and eventually just turned into puddles of screaming sobs and kicking tantrums. The rest of the world felt it too and every time I went out to buy a present I would call Eric crying and asking why people were so mean in parking lots. Our car died mid season so we're down to one and we got into such a huge family fight on Christmas morning that I never recovered and was so rude and sour at the family party that I probably won't be able to look anyone I love in the eye until around Valentines day.

Being somewhere in between, I will describe our holiday as slightly wonderful. Kind of like the candy cane martini one of my friends gave me at a party. It was so sweet and powerful, I never really figured out if I loved or loathed it. (I ended up needing 3 for a more thorough investigation-guess what? I love everything!) My mom once told me that I fantasize life and that is why I end up so often disappointed. I think I was in the middle of telling her that I thought Harry Potter 7 (Part 2) was exactly what America needed to end the war in Afghanistan.

There were incredible things about this Christmas season. I did get to see the Christmas play with Cole and I cried a few times for the simple fact that he was by my side. Our family is so very,very generous and the boys got more than they could have ever wished for. I have become so accustomed to eating like royalty that I'm scared what my normal diet of frozen waffles and peanut butter will do to my system. Eric and I had a few tender moments too, laughing together while watching "Elf" and smiling proudly at Cole as he sang his way through his Christmas play at school. We had incredible family devotions and my heart kept me up at night with the wonderment of The Lord coming to earth and submitting to so much so that we could be together forever one day. Isn't it amazing?

But as we all know, or I guess another way of putting it would be, as I now have come to realize, there is always Life! too. Our car really is kaput and our kids really can be terrible. We did have that fight and if you could have seen my disposition on Christmas day, you probably would have denied the fact that you even knew me. I know I was embarrassed enough that night that I was forced to live inside this skin. (Bah Humbug)

Enough with the teeter totter ride of emotions. I guess I'm telling you all this to let you know why Christmas means so much to me...and maybe this is the first year I really figured it out for myself. There is no redemption needed if the bow on your dress always stays in place, if your kids smile for every picture and your tree always stays parallel to the floor. There is nothing to be saved if nothing is lost. There is no need for a baby, grasping and finding breath in a strange new world if it is a perfect one. The whole reason He came was for people who scour their way through parties and can't find the joy in a day. Who squeeze their kids shoulders and whisper the harshest "You go over there and say thank you" they can muster, and then cry for hours on end about it later.

I am so thankful that my cars die and my trees fall down. That my kids kick me and I curse while I try to make those stinkin' ribbons curl. I'm so thankful that my mood swings to the pit of despair and that I need to be saved from myself. It would be all too easy to take what was done for me for granted if my "Merry Christmas" forever sprung from my tongue with the softest, smoothest, sweetest sound.

But right here, right now, while I stand in this place, knowing what was done for me with all my blemishes at the surface, I can say to you-in softest tone-Merry Christmas-because of this very life right here, You're looking at it!-He came.

Who's Ready for Christmas?

2011-12-21T13:40:00.000-08:00

Lascivious Washables

2011-12-20T08:44:00.000-08:00

I swear I have the horniest, most fertile laundry ever. I throw 2 shirts and a pair of undies down the shoot only to have it multiply ten times over by morning. Mounds and mounds of it, growing and birthing more and more each day. I try to settle things down, separate the most attractive outfits and keep the whites together, but what's that? Barry Manilow and candle light coming from my basement? What the heck is going on down there? How many loads can a girl do? Knock it off socks-Keep your pants on!

Poetic

2011-12-13T17:31:00.001-08:00

To 4th glass of wine, or not to 4th glass of wine. That is the question.

Not all those who wander are lost

2011-12-10T17:50:00.000-08:00

Everybody has moments in their life that they are not proud of. For some of us, those moments make up years of our life and we can lay in our bed, staring at the ceiling, our minds consumed by those times until our sleeping pill finally kicks in and takes us somewhere else. Hopefully somewhere with calorie free cheesecake and a young Paul Newman.

It is hard to hold your head up when you are the one who is wrong.

In 5th grade, our school had a program called D.A.R.E., a life skills class that taught you how to say no to peer pressure. Every week a police officer would come and teach us fun rhymes that we could yell at gangs that tried to recruit us. I think my class's winning slogan was "High five to stay alive. DARE to say no." And for real, I just got chills. One week we had to write an essay on how all "bad guys" don't wear hoodies and ray bans (This was the 80's) and how it will probably actually be a friend that first pressures you into making poor decisions. We were encouraged to write about a real life experience and read it to the class.

Like all homework, I completely bull shitted my way through. I made up this fantastic story about this girl Leslie who lived 2 doors down from Cock Robin and tried to sell me crack. And how she had a hoodie and ray bans on at the time. All I needed to do (in true D.A.R.E. fashion) was a few cartwheels and then we had a sing off and she totally left me alone. The End. Everyone in my class laughed and the cop kind of sadly shook his head before I sat down again.

This is the part of the story that still makes me cry. The next 2 essays, while not mentioning my name specifically, were about me. One girl talked about a time "someone she thought was a friend" bought Misty cigarettes out of the machine at the bowling alley and even worse, one of my best friends wrote a poem about how she was peer pressured into taking a shot of rum out of the liquor cabinet of the people she and "someone she trusted" were babysitting for. I think the title was something along the lines of "Why Friend, Why?"

I can still feel that feeling. If guilt were a tangible object, then I could have stood up and clothed myself in it. Completely consumed,surrounded and enmeshed, I couldn't even come up for air. I could not hear what anyone else said. I was afraid to stand when it was time to leave because somewhere in the middle of my friends poem, I had become a piece of thin glass and if I took one wrong step, everything inside of me would shatter.

This is one of the smallest and least offensive stories I have to explain the kind of person I have been for huge portions of my existence. There is an invisible line in all our lives and some of us just can't help but cross it time and time again. And we don't camp at that place, we build our homes on it.

It is very hard for me to go to sleep at night and know that I am forgiven. Know that everything grey that I have done is being woven into a beautiful tapestry of color and that one day-I will wear it with no shame. Consumed, surrounded and enmeshed by all that my life is. Turned into something beautiful for Him. My Maker, my Master. My deliverer.

Yet. it. is.

Edible

2011-12-06T08:23:00.001-08:00

Off walking in that winter wonderland

2011-12-05T17:17:00.000-08:00

Well that was anti climatic. As soon as I'm all-Ahoy! I blog! I'm a blogger! Ahoy!-I run off for a week, slamming the door behind me. It's Christmas I tell you. This holiday has got me buying, wrapping, decorating, singing and loving everything about life. When I feel something wonderful coming over me, I just dive right in and let it happen. I love that this season generously lends itself so easily to joy. It is difficult not to find it.

I do have some delicious pictures to post of the boys later. And am I the only one who looks at their kids some times and wants to eat them? If Miles is doing something super cute, like waving, my first instinct is to bite his hand. It is much worse with Cole because he's so round. Rolls upon rolls of soft baby. Don't worry, when you look at the pictures, you'll get it!

Before her time

2011-11-28T11:28:00.000-08:00

Cole, Miles and I had nothing to do this morning and since I am vying for Best Aunt Ever position in the Veldman house, we decided to head to the mall and check out Spencers joke shop. I don't want to spoil anything,what with it being the Christmas season and all, but the words 'fake' and 'poop' could be used to describe all 3 of the gifts I pounced on there. There was a sash that proclaimed the exact title for which I compete and does come in my size but I think there was a whoopy cushion connected to the back and come on now...that's just plain tacky.

After covering the boys eyes from shot glasses that looked like boobs (And now I'm just spoiling all my secret gifts...mom please pretend to be surprised) and 420 key chains, I made my way to the register. The green haired check out guy glanced at me, looked down and then shot up again as if he'd seen a ghost. "Is everything okay?," I asked, a little bit afraid because I just watched Insidious by myself (I swear I'm not bragging) last week and now I know that anything is possible. "Um. Well, yeah." He said with a hipster shrug, "I guess I'm just not used to seeing your type shopping in here."

And does anyone else ever have moments where they wish they could flash back themselves 12 years and gain all that street cred back? I wanted to say a swear, spit and then tell him all about my All Star shoes that I graffitied every day in geography, amounting to a life of guessing where pretty much anything in the world is. I wanted to explain to him what it looks like to have green hair and Harry Potter glasses when you're 31. How instead of everyone applauding your bold 'individuality', they suspect that you're desperately grasping a light that went out a long time ago....and they're right.

When did I get old? When did I become the MOM in Spencer's joke store? Can my milkshake really still bring all the boys to the yard? When did I officially trade in all my slurpees for coffees? And how come this little 19 year old with his skinny jeans and kermit hair can make me question everything about myself in a sentence?

So I breathed in and out. And in and out again. Said a very polite thank you and walked out of that store, pushing my stroller with dignity. My head held high, counting my blessing for all the wisdom age brings...with a little bag full of fake poop hanging from my side.

What I said: (Thanksgiving)

2011-11-25T04:16:00.001-08:00

"I am grateful for my parents this year. They have done so much for me."

But that was only because I was afraid I'd burst into a river of dripping mascara, hiccuping through emotional sobs and scaring all the children.

What I meant to say:

Mom and Dad, I don't think I have matured enough to know how to say thank you in a voice that adequately finds what I am looking for. Or maybe it's because I have never in my life so desperately needed someone to show up, only to turn and see you both standing right there-again, and again and again. You have always been there for me, thank you. If I asked you your favorite 100 moments spent with my kids this year, you would have a hard time narrowing the list down. You make my boys laugh. You get on the floor to push cars and roll balls with them. You are amazed at their growth. You know them. You love them. You can't go a week without seeing them. You have always been there for my children, thank you.

I don't know how many tears of joy I have shed this year for you. Maybe a thousand. Maybe ten thousand! Because I can hardly speak to my heavenly father about you without feeling so overcome that an overflow of appreciation escapes me. He has blessed me abundantly by giving me you. Praise Him! Thank you for hearing Him. Thank you for coming to me and giving to me and sharing with me when He asked you. I know that is why you have blessed me so. I cried out to my God and He answered. He answered with you.

That's two

2011-11-23T10:44:00.000-08:00

That same girl that found herself hiding her sandals in the men's bathroom at Target this summer, struck out again. Today she was upset to find that a Mc Donalds play land bathroom did not have a changing table. I know! Right? But it did have urinals....Oops.

My voice

2011-11-20T05:07:00.000-08:00

She posts! And in deed I do! I actually really wanted to put-And how! After that first sentence because using that phrase more often has gone to the top of my life goals list. Wait a minute, I am forgetting about that whole Donny Wahlberg thing, so okay-number 2.

I think the misaimed firecracker nature of that first paragraph is exactly why I need to start blogging again. There are so many thoughts stuffed inside my head right now that I simply can not stay on topic for more than a sentence or 2 at a time. Squirrel! And not sharing the things of my life is just no good for me.

I stopped writing on here because I had a few conversations with people that smelled good and sat up straight and didn't say pisser every other word. Suddenly, the idea of keeping a blog felt kind of stupid to me. I should be more proper. More private. Less candid. Stoic, I think is the word that I finally decided on before bed a few months ago.

I am not many things when you consider how big our world is. But over the last few months of my self inflicted taciturn, I have come to the conclusion that I.am.a.writer. It is what I enjoy doing and it is a huge part of what I have to do. It isn't art. It isn't poetry. It isn't advice or song. Sometimes it isn't even good. It is my voice. It is my way of unhinging the words that are trapped inside of me.

Even if to an audience of one, I write. Even if my words are too weak for the beauty and grace for which I am grasping, I write. Even if there is no song or beat of hope, I write. Even if the story does not come and I chase to no prevail, I write. Even if I fear the words themselves, I write. So...I write.

Too good to not pass on

2011-11-05T11:43:00.001-07:00

I am doing a Beth Moore bible study this year on the book of Daniel. We are discussing the Babylonian empire and have been encouraged to find parallels between their over indulgent society and our own life. I have been very blessed through this. What a gift humility is! One of Beth's audience members wrote a poem to illustrate this point even further. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Babylon
Brimming closets, shoe racks bulge, one in every color,I'll just indulge.
My wildest whim will oft be met. Bigger, faster, give me, get.
Travel on in Babylon.

May I go first? Knew you'd not care. For my time's precious, you've lot's to spare.
I'll slip in front and off I'll go. See, I'm quite fast and you're, well, just slow
I and Me fast friends, life long.
Prattle on in Babylon.

Nip it here, just there a lift. I just turned forty, it's a gift.
The eyes, the lips, the bosoms do. Sculptured, lasered, injected too.
No wrinkles left, the tummy's gone.
Journey on in Babylon.

Enough of me, how do you view me?
You get one but give me three.
I couldn't bare to just say no, it's my desire and rightly so.
Add another and on and on and on.
Shuffle on in Babylon.

No end in sight that I can see, today is blocked by the mirror in front of me.
A wreck, a death, tsunami tide, it mildly stirs me, I must confide.
TV claims tens of thousands gone.
Oh well, let's see what else is on.
Numb to the stunning sight of each new dawn,
Sinking fast in Babylon.

Like a lobster in a pot who begins to like the water hot,
I've been duped, been tricked, been had, convinced that Truth was something bad.
Evil, coddled and cooed and purred,and beckoned me and called and lured.
Now in a place with the lights turned on, I'm racing home from Babylon.
I'm racing home from Babylon!

What my cuties look like right now

2011-07-30T18:24:00.000-07:00

I am the apple of God's eye

2011-05-27T14:51:00.000-07:00

....Going back to the basics of my heart after lots of mistakes. I am LOVED by the Creator of everything....and so are you.....

What the?

2011-05-15T18:48:00.000-07:00

So I tried to delete my blog.

There was this one time in high school where I did an interpretive dance in front of my church to "I am the bread of life" and there was a solid 2 month period following that 4 minute portion of my life where I couldn't look anyone I knew in the eye.

Then there were the 3 years that I wrote Christian Slater every week. Once (okay twice) sending him pictures of myself posing next to my poster of him in the movie Pump of The Volume....wearing the exact same outfit that he was. If that is not one step shy of full blown, locks of hair in the mail, bat shit crazy than I don't know what is. And then suddenly one day, I was 12 (14) and I realized that he was never going to write me back. And that I was a fool.

Sometimes "journaling my feelings" on the internet is a little like white leotard in church/creepy fan Kris. It makes me feel stupid when I'm trying to have a conversation with friends thinking, okay-do they know that I hid in my bathroom this morning and cried? Or that I sometimes want to run away? (Side note-Is it called "running away" when you're in your 30's?) Should I just put up cute pictures of the boys and shut my mouth? Should I even talk this all out here?

But here's the crazy thing. I deleted this blog. Or tried to. And it just keeps popping up in my search engine again. So after hopping on and reading a few posts from the past I've come to the conclusion that I'm just gonna keep going. I guess I kinda feel like I still should. No matter how much I wonder what people are thinking about me as I walk around, owning my love for Judge Judy. Sometimes slipping into the over dramatic, Air Supply and pinot grigio fueled world of self pity. So what if the internet knows that I pooped my pants at Aldi? Or that I sometimes can't stand to look in a mirror without spitting on it?

This blog was deleted. And for no reason at all, it's back. That has to mean something to someone. I know it means something to me.

Up To

2011-04-26T18:56:00.000-07:00

I know! I'm sorry to be so neglectful It's just that life moves so darn fast lately!

Things that have been keeping me busy:
1.) Cole had strep and a crazy, bananas, Oh my word!, scary, high fever. :(
2.) Miles arms grew a surprisingly long 8 feet since his first birthday and he now has the power to grab anything within sight.
3.) Eric smells really good and bought this hot blue striped shirt from J. Crew that makes him look like he should be in one of their ads.
4.) I'm (almost disturbingly so) into the show Medium on Netflix lately. And I know that it's all witch craft and Bloody Mary and stuff but I have fallen in love with it and watch as much as I can while the boys take their naps.
5.) Serenity Lavender is the name of the new dryer sheets I bought so a good portion of my day is spent running downstairs just to take a split second whiff.
6.) I recently googled Judge Judy and after a few pages of scrolling down on Wikepedia, I came across an article all about how she stays on air. Apparently, women, between the ages of 29-50, who feel powerless in their lives and helpless with the choices they've made (Seriously, all it was missing was: Occasionally wear their sunglasses at the drivethrough at Dunkin' Donuts so she is unrecognized and then orders 2 coffees as to fool the employee in the amount of people actually consuming that portion size of food...) and are desperate to see a gal in a high profile situation bring swift justice, are obsessed with watching her pound her gavel and humiliate the people before her. And who knew? I was genetically pre-disposed to liking Judge Judy?!

How do you afford your Rock n Roll Lifestyle? (The party!)

2011-04-17T12:52:00.000-07:00

Happy 1st Birthday

2011-04-16T17:06:00.001-07:00

Miles David Jordan
"See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands." Isiah 49:16

Humble Foot

2011-04-13T13:16:00.000-07:00

There is something very humbling about describing your infected leg symptoms to the nurse over the phone. You try to let the listener know that you are a clean and put together person, but using the words "natural water balloon shoe" to describe your swollen foot size just can never sound dignified. So then when she tells you that you have to come in immediately, you jump in the shower and take off your "Spring Break '98 It's Gettin' Good!" t shirt with the yellow pit stains so that you don't walk into the Dr.'s office while everyone looks at each other thinking, 'Ol leg infection herself is here! Because you're better than that. So you force yourself to walk up to the counter like a normal woman would and then you speak with just a little bit of an English accent. You know, because how could someone who is British and wearing a clean shirt have a weeping leg sore? Impossible!

I'll have what she's having!

2011-04-07T16:44:00.000-07:00

This afternoon my nephew and I had macaroni and cheese for lunch and I accidentally put half and half in it instead of milk and I've decided that I can now peacefully pass away into eternity, knowing that everything I've needed to live for has taken place. Because Oh. My. Gosh. Do you know the diner scene from When Harry Met Sally? Amateur. I have never fist pumped so hard and a yellow childs sauced up spongebob noodle has never been so appreciated. Ever.

Surprise!

2011-04-06T09:25:00.000-07:00

Melvin James Cash

2011-04-02T11:26:00.000-07:00

As soon as Cole and Miles get up from their naps we are heading with my mom and sister to the zoo. And watching Cole react to that news is very much what it must be like for Eric every March when he sits me down and breaks the news that he saw a shamrock shake sign at the Mc Donalds by his work. Cole loves animals and there are several times a week where I ask him what he is doing only for him to tell me, Um-giraffe. Or cow. Or dog.

I miss Melvin. There is not the smallest amount of hesitation in the belief that we made the right decision for him and his new owners Christmas card of him covered in tinsel just confirmed that all over for me again. He is so loved! But a little boy finding a buddy in his pet is a very special thing and I am sad that Cole and Miles only have Gilbert-our stuck up and boring beta fish- to hang out with.

It could just be that the weather is nicer so we're actually outside walking again or maybe it's Coles new found love for animals, but I do miss my first little baby and hope he's living the life he deserves.

Awakened

2011-03-30T03:40:00.001-07:00

I can't sleep. I've been going through the past few weeks in my head this morning and I decided to invite the Lord into some of my thoughts. I guess you could say this turned out to be a mistake because I realized that what is keeping me from sliding into a world where I can fly for a few hours before the sun rises, is conviction.

I don't speak kindly about my kids. It's unfair and really, if they believed a lot of things that I say about them-I'd be disgusted. I guess that when things got tough, I sort of gave up on this time period in my life. I've spent the last year just trying to hurry through it, not stopping along the way to look for all the things I am supposed to be seeing.

I haven't really allowed myself to enjoy my life since Miles was born. And since I'm being honest, the Holy Spirit broke it to me this morning in my bed that I haven't really allowed my husband or kids to enjoy theirs either.

I feel myself becoming jaded and selfish. I hear the words I say when speaking about my blessings in life and they are laced with profanity and bitterness, not gratitude and humility as they once were. I hold onto all the ways people have wronged me. I wake up almost every morning with fear.

Oh Lord, please do not give up on me yet. Give me everything I need to be your joyful servant once more. Soften me. Yield me. Strengthen me. Forgive me. For I, along with every thing in every day, am yours.

Say a Prayer

2011-03-24T18:15:00.000-07:00

Cole, who put his hands down his diaper today and asked me-Where'd hand go? In my butt! Cole, who hit his cousin with a toy hammer on the head this afternoon for turning off the light, Cole, who tried to get away with not eating his macaroni and cheese by hiding it under the couch cushions at lunch. That very Cole is sleeping in a barless big boy bed right now!

I miss Kyle

2011-03-22T17:50:00.000-07:00

(Copying the first couples Easter card pose.) Nerd siblings at their finest.

The 411

2011-03-21T16:54:00.001-07:00

It's been awhile! Here's what we've been filling our time with:

1.) It is no longer winter here in Chicago. I am so grateful for the sun again. We spend every minute possible basking in the rays. Love it.

2.) Eric and I saw the Kings Speech after eating our weight in wiener shnitzel at the Bavarian lodge. Just kidding, I don't really know what wiener shnitzel is. Who looks at the shnitzel options and thinks, Oh good. They have wiener! Is it made out of wiener? Whose? Why is that an acceptable thing to order at a restaurant? O.K. The movie! You know when you've just had an amazing meal with your best girlfriends and you grab a little chocolate covered peppermint stick that they have in a bowl at the front door on your way out? That's what The Kings Speech was like for me. Just a delicious, simple taste of something on a good night. Very satisfying.

3.) Miles has been letting me put him down more and more every day. Which coincidentally makes me like him more and more every day. :) I think he's really smart you guys. Just for fun I'll tell you all my current favorite things about Miles-His skin is beautiful. This milk chocolate, soft, lovely color. He is incredibly handsome. He has this really goofy pirate Arrggghhhh that he pulls out whenever he wants to impress people. He will climb heaven and earth to get to me. I know I complain about having to hold him a lot-but I am that kids favorite thing ever.

4.) Cole finally learned how to use his huge lips and he gives the best kisses. I know that's a gross mom sentence and I totally am wearing white keds and sweat pants right now just to solidify the stereotype, but it's true. He also kind of thinks that he's amazing. All day long I hear, Mom Look, Look! Only to watch him touch his shoe or wave at me. I pretend to be amazed. Actually, that was a lie. I am pretending to pretend to be amazed because in truth I am. I love that he still wants me to be his audience. I will cheer anything those boys invite me to be a part of in their lives.

5.) Me and Eric are good. I have already written the word wiener enough for one blog post, but trust me...

Crazy Cuties

2011-03-10T10:27:00.001-08:00

T.V. Talk

2011-03-02T15:47:00.001-08:00

Oh boy, it's been a little while. Between trying to gain as much weight as I could in February and Charlie Sheens break down, I've been exhausted.

And all of this over 2 and a half men? If you watch that show, would you mind emailing me and letting me know why. I'd really appreciate it and it would shed some light on what is a very confusing subject matter for me. The subject being-Who likes the show 2 and a half men?

Shows that are currently on the Heerema family favorite list: Survivor, Redemption Island. The Big Bang Theory. Modern Family. Curious George. Judge Judy. And what does it say about a person when they answer the phone and pretend to be in the middle of American Idol but are in fact on the edge of their seat trying to figure out if it really was Mrs. Dunfey that poisoned the pie on Masterpiece theater?

To Us!

2011-02-23T15:59:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, Eric and I celebrated our 8th wedding anniversary. This past year was by far our most difficult, in fact I can't really think of a year that comes in 2nd place. Most of our late night talks and armpit fart contests were replaced with long weeping sessions where I continuously said "I can't do this" over and over again. And that is even if we found the time for that in between feeding and disciplining and changing and playing with the kids.

I've always been a hopeless, die hard romantic. I like the phrase, "And they lived happily ever after", no matter how glossy and basic it is. I don't like when the guy in the happy love story finds out what the girl was hiding from him and usually fast forward that part of the movie to get to the ending quicker, where they kiss under the moon lit sky. I like my love to be simple and uncomplicated.

But although this year was our hardest, I can honestly say that I now know how deep Eric loves me and how committed he is to making us work. That guy has my back. Why else would he pick up the phone when he knows it will just be sobbing? Why else would he walk into the room after an argument to try to make things right again? This is love. It is a messy, confusing, sacrificial, beautiful thing. It is choosing to wake up every morning and go to work to provide for your family. It is choosing to take care of the kids and house and give of yourself to make that plan that you and your partner dreamed of truth.

Even Christ, whose entire existence in this world was due to His great love for us, chose to submit to it and die on the cross. That is love at it's most raw and brutal edge.

This year was a part of our love story. It was probably the part where things turn and the happy couple realizes that they simply can not be with out one another. That no one in this world could possibly love them like that person does. Standing in truth and choosing to stay there.

I won't end with that because I don't want to make it sound like the whole thing was a giant uphill battle. We had some incredible times too. Even last night after tucking the kids to bed, Eric came home with a wonderful meal, my favorite bottle of wine, a movie and a soft leather clutch that will most likely cause you to feel something along the lines of an envious rage when you see me carrying it. We laughed and talked and armpit farted our way through the night. And yes, we watched the whole movie. Not fast forwarding through the hard parts but respecting them with a wisdom a couple like us has.

A couple that is hopelessly and deeply committed to one another. A couple who will live happilly ever after..........eventually.

What Calvin said at dinner

2011-02-19T19:01:00.000-08:00

We stopped laughing about Cole copying all his cousins movements long enough for my 8 year old nephew to shake his head from side to side, chuckle a little and say, "You know what I've been noticing Auntie Kris? When you hate something, it seems like time takes forever. But when everything is great and you're excited about happy things, they are over just like that. Life is funny that way." And I kind of nodded through my sudden stinging tears and put down my forkful of fried rice just long enough to digest that whisper of a moment in the day before it fluttered by. Because life is funny that way.

TGIF-And a sunny, Hope inducing, Spring promising one at that!

2011-02-14T10:57:00.001-08:00

Miles enjoys today by doing the worm through out the house. His crawling is amazing and if I throw a dangerous shard of glass or nail on the floor, that child can sniff it out and drag his body from room to room in a couple of seconds. I am not kidding, this kid is amazing with his body movements and I fully expect a circle of people to form around him wherever he goes in life, chanting Miles! Miles! and he'll have no choice to but throw it down and give them what they want, right there in the middle of Aldi.

Cole enjoys today by playing with his many games. Here he karaokes, which means he holds the mic to his mouth and breathes really loudly into it. Kind of like how he plays the Kinect, just all kicks and jumps with no direction or purpose to them. Which I think is more of an indication of the fact that he'll be a seasoned charmer when he grows up. This guy knows how to fake what he can not do and make you believe it's the best you've ever seen. I imagine him serenading the ladies by winking and bobbing his head around, he'll be so good at it that no one will remember he never sang a word.

Today is a good day. I am so happy to share it with my babies and who they are right now. Right this very moment. Just me and them. Today.

Then I talked about my orthopedic insoles

2011-02-13T18:17:00.000-08:00

I don't know what happens to me when Coles speech teacher comes over. Some kind of horrible need to talk about every embarrassing thing about me rises up in my chest the second she enters the door. The first time it happened was this summer, when one second I'm talking about how I hope Cole can master the "L" sound soon and the next I am telling her that Harry and the Hendersons is "definitely in my top 20 favorite movies of all time." And even as I'm saying it, I'm thinking to myself-What? And not 2 minutes later I hear myself start up again, powerless to do anything but blurt out-"Well, I guess the last time I remember getting spanked was when I yelled Up Yours! to the green knight at Medieval Times when I was 12."

So 2 weeks ago, when I told her all about a crazy sex dream I had and then debated (out loud) whether it was a result of eating a bad Jr. Whopper from Burger King or from reading Neil Gaemans, "American gods" right before bed-I just said Enough Kristen! to myself-because this is seriously starting to look a lot like harassment! So last Friday during Coles session, I kept completely on topic and stuck with my plan of nodding and smiling politely for the hour. There was no incidence! She asked to use my bathroom before taking off and afterwards I sighed with relief that I had made it through the time with out saying a single thing that would have her questioning my children's safety through out the day with me.

I smiled and headed to the bathroom myself, and all I could see out of the corner of my eye on the way was the coffee mug that, as a joke for Eric, I had drawn a pair of boobs on earlier that morning......

Winter Wonderland Get Away (2011's Version)

2011-02-05T16:46:00.000-08:00

Sybil

2011-02-04T17:03:00.000-08:00

MSN's teaser today was "Big Lebowski 2?" and I'm not even kidding you guys, I peed in my pants a little bit. It turns out that Tara Reid said she was reprising her role in the Coen Brothers masterpiece and it just ain't true.

I was taken back to junior year in high school all over again. When someone told me that Ghostbusters 3 was coming out that summer! And with Chris Farley as the newest crew member! Not to be too dramatic, but my life has forever been divided by that lie. There is pre Ghostbusters 3 rumor Kris and there is post. And I won't even go into what that scary descent has been like....

So did I mention that Eric and I had a hot tub in our room in Door County?! I know I haven't written in a week-I've been too busy obsessively thinking about just how much I like my husband when we're on vacation together. In a room with a hot tub. With no kids in Door County.-but break times over! I'll be posting some pictures as soon as junior year rumor Kris meets todays sad mess of a woman inside me and comforts her with the knowledge that the world will one day be warm again. Just like that hot tub. In Door County.

Chaotic Happiness Mode

2011-01-28T04:53:00.000-08:00

Eric and I are going away together for the weekend. With out the kids. Consider yourself warned world.

ARRRGGGGHHHH!

2011-01-25T06:05:00.000-08:00

Me likes me crackers salty!

How They'll Find Me

2011-01-22T16:28:00.000-08:00

At play group a few days ago, my cousin mentioned that, inspired by a scene in Steel Magnolias, she was teaching her daughters to call 9-1-1 if they ever found her lying on the floor. After all, it is just her with the kids all day so if anything happened it was up to them to get help.

I've thought this same scenario through myself and was talking with a couple of friends about it when one of them suggested that we role play and pretend to pass out in front of our kids to see what they do. In other words, give them a really good story to tell their therapists in a few years.

All the moms hid behind the counter and I watched as each kid went up to their mom, stroking their hair lovingly and asking if they were okay. Then up shot my friend with a big hug and huge applause from each of us. They were going to be fine! The last moments on this earth would be filled with little kisses from little mouths and tender hands loving them.

When it came time for my turn, I was so excited I pretty much body slammed myself onto the carpet. Cole walked in the room, took one look at me and started jumping up and down on my back. Then, he pulled down my pants as far as they would go and tried to push a Little People cop into my butt. He stood up, took a giant swig of his sippy and left the room.

Maybe I'll keep some of that therapy money for myself after all.

Drawer Dropper

2011-01-20T10:23:00.000-08:00

We are sitting on the sofa. The wind pushes the snow in a gentle swirl outside our window. Up and down it poetically falls to the waiting world below. We delight in seeing earths winter dance.

We are watching the X files. It is my favorite. Mulder and Scully are pretending to be a married couple, moving into a subdivision where the garbage eats people. I love Fox Mulder. I love the things he says and the way he says them. I love that he is wearing a polo tee in this episode.

And right then, with the dance and the snow and Mulder in his t shirt, Eric turns to me and says, "We haven't been to Kirshbaums bakery in awhile. Let's go get some donuts this weekend."

And that is how you get me.

Happy 2 1/2- Cole Jacob Jayden

2011-01-15T17:40:00.001-08:00

Cole is 2 and a half years old today.

He is also Amazing. Strong. Fearless. Confident. Funny.

His favorite things in life are: Curious George, His father, Trains, and Bananas.

He also likes; learning new words, belly farts, play dough and sucking his thumb.

My favorite thing about him is how he makes me want to be better. How he makes me want to give everything so that he can have it all. Love. Family. Joy. Happiness. Humility. Everything. My second favorite thing about him are those beautiful eyes. Killer.

I remember riding in the back seat, clutching his tiny hand in mine as we made the drive home from his placement ceremony. I realized then how little I knew of love before that moment. Something inside of me had burst open. A thing I didn't know I had until I met Cole.

Thank you Monkey. Thank you for letting me find a place for all that love I had stuck inside my chest for so long. You are my special. My beautiful boy. "My son in whom I am well pleased."

A little F.Y.I.

2011-01-14T18:38:00.000-08:00

The last sentence in Gilbert Blythes wikipedia entry:

As the series ends, it is 1919 and they are happy; and Gilbert is fifty-five and still in love with Anne Shirley.

I am haunted by waters

2011-01-11T09:48:00.001-08:00

During the summer vacation in grade school for one week of that wonderful time in youth, I would go with a friend to Camp Manetoqua. I think of those as happy days filled with green trees and camp fire air. Being the largest camper had both it's ups and downs-On the up side, I had a secret "in" with the Sugar Shack counselor and could usually score a free laffy taffy or two. Plus I always got to be the anchor in the tug of war contest and didn't have to do anything but basically sit down for my team to take a sweet victory! The major down side was the pool, which I avoided by making it a point to see the camp nurse on day 1 and go into gruesome, horrific details about the stomach cramps I'd been having lately. It'd buy me a free pass for the week and off to Arts and Crafts I was with all the other losers.

Then there was this one year when an unofficial(and mandatory)Camp Wide Polar Bear Swim was called by the pool counselor. I didn't feel as comfortable whispering my lie of a raging period in his ear so I just kind of looked at him sheepishly and said that I forgot to bring my bathing suit. He smiled, winked, put his arm around me and told me not to worry-he'd make this one exception this time and allow me to swim in my School Sucks! t shirt and jean shorts. So I thanked him and walked in with all the other bikini clad girls in my cabin.

The air was hot and I awkwardly walked around for a little while before deciding to just dive in with everyone else. Heck, if the guy was making this one exception for me, I'd better use it. The water felt awesome! How I've always loved my swimming. It was so cold and delightful that I soon forgot that my body didn't match anyone elses and started just having fun. Like what kids do on hot summer days when they're at camp in a pool.

I stayed under the water and let the silence consume me before bobbing up to the world alive above. I started doing summer saults and happy dives into the depths below. I let the water bring me to the top and down again with excitement I'd fall until one time I got a little over zealous and cracked my head on the bottom of the pool. In fact, I hit with such force that I almost knocked myself out. I could see a little stream of blood in the water. My arms floated up around me and so did my t shirt. Over my head until I couldn't see anything except giant, fuzzy black spots. I thought up was down and frantically tried to make a way to the surface but bashed into the bottom again in my confusion.
By then I was sluggish and dazed, I didn't trust myself to make a decision on how to get out of there and a panic rose in me. A desperation and longing to get out of the airless trap that had engulfed me. A lifeguard did come and so did the exposure of my 18 hour Cross Your Heart extra support old lady bra to everyone, but I didn't care because I was alive and safe on the pools edge, ready to face another day as the all time sitting champion of tug of war! Free at last.

So here it is. Sometimes when I lose my temper and shout things at my 2 year old or look at my crying Miles and wonder if we'll ever get along, that same swim day anxiety follows me. Frantically searching for a way out but engulfed in a world designed to consume me. Stifled. Confused. Not trusting which way to turn. The circumstances are remarkably different, but the fear and desperation are the same. I am just a little girl on the bottom of the pool at Camp Manetoqua. And I need to find a way to the surface.

This is where my watery, babbling posts of the never forgotten splash their way across my blog. This need to express what I am not as a mother in the same way I need air. So grab a life boat. Float around. The water is fine and like it or not, every now and then (if you read my blog) you're going under.

Just your ordinary Esau

2011-01-10T05:18:00.000-08:00

It's Monday morning again. Gosh, I should just say it's morning since all the days are bleeding together so why name each one? I was awful this weekend. I woke up yesterday with the dream of the wonderful mother in my head. The one who takes all her joy in life from raising her kids. I am so far from who I want to be.

Capturing Christmas (2010)

2011-01-02T17:28:00.000-08:00

Fa-La-La-La-Fall

2011-01-02T17:11:00.000-08:00

This picture was taken in the E.R. Christmas Eve night. We had been at my parents for about ten minutes before Cole got a little over excited about all the gifts with his name on them and ran straight into the corner of the wall. There just seemed to be no end to his bleeding so Eric and I scooped him up and headed to the hospital. My heart couldn't help but slide into my lap during the ride over. I hated it for him. A whole month of anticipation and excitement seemed to slip away just like that. Really, it didn't turn out to be so awful. Cole did not cry a single tear as they strapped him in the papoose and started to sew the 6 stitches needed to close his wound. We looked at Christmas lights and sang Silent Night as we drove back to my parents a mere 2 hours later, where we opened all those presents that Cole was so crazy about. I was proud of him.

It was like some beautiful bird flapped into our grey little world and made our walls dissolve away

2011-01-01T18:40:00.000-08:00

Oh my word! (That's my new expression because I'm really trying not to use bad language anymore. The last time I attempted this was in high school when my economics teacher, Mrs. Doolittle, said Fiddlesticks! once when she popped her finger with the end of a needle used for sewing the words "All God's Children" across a pillow. It inspired me. But I realized that if your name is Mrs. Doolittle and your life is devoted to teaching teenage girls how to be good wives and mothers, you can get away with a sorry excuse for a swear. Not so much if you're 300 pounds and get the nick name "Grid Iron" just by showing up at the seniors powder puff football game and standing on the field. So I stuck with my usual F-ing A! at the time. Hey, God saved me. I'm just telling you some of the things He saved me from.)

It is 2011. Which makes me think I should be wearing moon boots and jumping around the hollodeck with Leonardo Di Caprio saving the world from an alien species. The future is now...Who's with me? I remember when I finally got to boogy my ass off (Sorry Mrs. Doolittle) to Princes's 1999 and that was years in the making! So can I please get an "Amen!" somewhere, from someone who thinks that life travels way too fast?!

I have a list of the usual regulations for this year but instead I thought I'd just be realistic and print it all out for you: Holla! I will most likely gain 2-4 lb's on Starbucks Caramel Machiottos. I will watch t.v. for extended periods of time, most likely King of Queens, and fall so deeply into the story that the lines of reality and fantasy blend. I may take up smoking and finally commit to something. I will read as much Young Adult fiction as I like, pushing all the classic literature from my mind until I get my college degree in '33. In fact, I will challenge the mind as little as possible. Watching The Big Lebowski and episodes of Judge Judy to the point of embarrassment. (To some.)

Happy New Year ya'll! May this be one of the biggest and most blessed to each of you!

With love,
Kris

A brief rest

2010-12-28T19:12:00.001-08:00

I kind of like the title of this post. I dared myself to say it 10 times fast and my words morphed into beef breast. I'm all about it.
Sorry for leaving everyone hanging on all our wonderful Christmas adventures, but I've been too busy playing with all my new toys. Trying on clothes, blow driving my hair and reading fabulous books while I anticipate all the many delicious things I will splurge on with my gift cards. I know A LOT of generous people...
Anyway, I will definitely find some time this week to sit down and try to use words illuminating and warm enough to describe the past few days of splendor.

A few teasers:
1.) A horribly embarrassing poop incident at the Borders off of Kingery High Way, followed by an even more embarrassing task of digging through their trash to find a gift card accidentally thrown away.
2.) The whole Christmas Eve stitches story with Cole. Oh yeah!
3.) I can honestly say that I received some of the best and most thoughtful, touching gifts that I have ever gotten and I can't wait to share some of them with you.
4.) Miles. And what it was like for him to look at me like I was glowing when I took pictures with him by the Christmas tree.
5.) The Christmas Day service at church where I swear God was singing His joy and His love and His peace into my heart. There were a lot of tears. The very best kind of tears.

And pictures. Of all that joy, love and peace shining through the people I care for the most. It was a good one. A very,very good one.

Merry Christmas Blog Readers!

With love,
Kris

The Usual Suspects

2010-12-21T17:21:00.001-08:00

Shorty got low

2010-12-21T17:00:00.000-08:00

Eric decided that I needed a respectable pair of jeans so he went on line and clicked through styles for "curvy" women. And apparently Mr. Thomas Hillfiger believes that us fatties deserve our share of the prize too because my face fell to the floor when I read the inside label of skinny.

I sucked and tucked all that was holy inside me and Holla ya'll! Girl can pull. it. off. That could be the 2 glasses of wine I had earlier in the night talking but I just never thought that part of the social world was open to me! And I look good. No, seriously.

Does this mean that I'll be sporting my Hollister shirt with Apple Bottom jeans, silly bands flailing as I walk around the mall to meet my peeps in Claires? Maybe. I just don't know how the double stroller and diaper bag fits into this new world. Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself....

Venting

2010-12-20T06:18:00.000-08:00

I think Cole and Miles are conspiring to kill me. I don't know when they get together and plot out my demise but you can be sure that I will keep a stronger listening ear to their bedroom doors at night. They're getting better and better at their assassination skills each day. I'm so proud.

I occasionally pamper myself by washing my whole leg. But who am I kidding? With Miles screaming in his bedroom because he's been put down for a few minutes and needs the bars of his crib to protect him from his brother, and with Cole sticking his head into my 1 minute alloted shower, shouting-I want bath! over and over, the top of the leg gets washed and hopefully some of that soap just slid on down to the other parts. Sigh.

It is 8:19 a.m. on a Monday morning. Lord help us all!

A post 100 years in the making

2010-12-18T04:43:00.000-08:00

Grandpa Heerema had his 100th birthday party this weekend and Eric and Miles traveled to Michigan for the celebration of (literally) a lifetime. Looking at the picture of the 3 of them smiling away makes my eyes fill with tears so forgive me if there are a few spelling mistakes or flubbed words while I type. Well, more than usual that is.

I feel emotional because I know what that moment must have been like for Eric as he posed with these two. To think of sitting with someone you love, respect and aspire to be like while holding someone you have vowed to teach and instill virtue in is amazing. This moment is a gift. I know that Eric will keep it with honor.

I hope that someday Miles is the old man in the seat. I hope that 100 years from now he has a grandson holding a little one on his lap, as they smile for a picture together. I hope that he is surrounded with the family behind him on his birthday. I hope he looks forward to being reunited with the family before him when he walks into the kingdom.

A century of life and an eternity with the King. God is good!

Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas

2010-12-16T18:18:00.000-08:00

We are 1 week away from my favorite night of the year! This will be my 30th Christmas Eve, all of them warm and rich and beautiful. I close my eyes and picture the many meals we've shared together on this special night. How the table has grown with spouses and children. How Eric and I have made our own tradition of driving around to see houses dressed in their very finest before opening gifts we've thoughtfully bought for one another.

To think of the first Christmas overwhelms me. The very hands that shaped and molded mankind, became the tiny grasping fingers of an infant. He had the knowledge of the universe and the umbilical tie of a baby to a girl in a stall. Here was God on earth! The Word among us. The angels cried out and rejoiced, but not with kings of grandeur as one would expect when the Author of all things has entered into the world. They carried their songs of praise to shepherds who were working in a field. He who is everything, made Himself nothing. This is why we celebrate with joy. This is why we come together as a family one very special night a year and share the good news with one another. He has come!

Progress!

2010-12-14T04:26:00.000-08:00

Cole and I like to spend a good hour cuddling on the couch and catching up on all our tivo in the morning. And by "our" I mean his. And by "all our tivo" I mean Curious George. Since there are no commercials, we can watch about 6 episodes in that amount of time. Every. Morning. I think that we could end a lot of the worlds problems just by setting up this exact scenario in jails across America.

Lately, I've been suggesting different shows to at least try and change some of the monotony. Honestly, if he looked at me with blurry eyes, his morning tosseled hair with his thumb still hanging out the side of his mouth and sweetly said, "Platoon please." I'd probably cry with happiness and pride. My boy is diversified!

Imagine my joy when he got all crazy a few weeks ago and pointed to The Dora The Explorer show on our Netflix. We tried it and he liked it!! Now he has even branched so far as to watch her cousin from time to time, (Diego) too!

The world is opening up to us in new ways. Tomorrow, that kid might even let a friend touch his toys with out it turning into the 2 year old version of Armageddon. It feels good to believe in change again.

Tis The Season

2010-12-11T03:45:00.000-08:00

Did I ever tell you about the time I was verbally assaulted by the Salvation Army bell ringer outside of Dominicks? I think it was 2 years ago now but I always get a little sweaty and nervous before passing one this time of year. Actually, Cole put some quarters into the kettle outside of Walgreens the other day and he cheered and clapped so loudly for himself (modest, that one) that his joy almost put this whole mini battle I have with bell ringers behind me. Almost.

So...It was snowing that night and I ran as quickly as I could to get to the side door. I didn't even notice the ringer at first because she was just standing by her pot, talking on her cell phone and her bell was laying on the ground. As soon as I walked passed her, she hung up and asked me if I'd like to make a donation. I told her I didn't have any cash and she looked at me and told me to have a Merry Christmas for myself. And only myself. Because that's the only person I cared about anyway. Then she started saying Ho! Ho! Ho! But it wasn't in the jolly, clean Santa Claus way. No-She was pointing to me every time she cried out Ho. Which doesn't really make sense because wouldn't I have cash if I charged people for it? That was our exchange.

I walked around collecting my items in a daze. I tried to put my weird encounter out of my mind but I'd pick up a thing of oranges and think, the salvation army bell ringer thinks I sleep around. And then I would get some milk and think, I wonder if I should go out there and hit her. By the time I checked out I was pissed and determined that things were about to go down in the parking lot. They didn't need to because just as I was passing the front desk, I overhead this little old blue haired woman whispering to the management that she thought the ringer outside had just called her a slut.

I jumped over and told my story too and me, granny and Carlos (according to his name tag) went outside to confront her. There was only the kettle hanging there, she was gone. I told them that she must have bailed and that I needed to go home. As I walked a little further, I noticed that she was crouched in the corner, pressed against the wall of the store. I yelled out-I see her! She's hiding behind the pop machines! And then I ran to my car in case it got crazy-Hey,that old lady looked pretty fierce!

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes!

2010-12-08T11:36:00.000-08:00

Something big happened this morning. I've been thinking about it for awhile now and I pulled the trigger on deleting my facebook account. It was time. Anyway, my new way of being reached is a little old fashioned but if you need to get a hold of me it's:

krisdelia@hotmail.com

I'm telling you what-

2010-12-06T16:45:00.001-08:00

So far, it's been kind of hard for me to hate this winter.

How you know it's been too long since you've shaved your legs:

2010-12-01T18:25:00.001-08:00

1.) You think of the last time you shaved in terms of months. September? October?
2.) You begin to watch Teen Wolf for style inspiration.
3.) Your husbands new pet name for you is Chubaka.
4.) It physically hurts to wear jeans.
5.) Your leg starts barking.
6.) When you do finally decide to shave, your calf spasms and cramps half way through because it has been awkwardly wedged against the side of your bath tub for so long and you want to cry out for Eric to come save you because you're afraid you're going to drowned but instead your pride takes over and you say to yourself, " Dig deep Kristen! He will NOT see you like this." because hairs are floating everywhere and you're sloshing around in your own filth water so you bite your lip and muscle through with everything you got inside you until that leg is bald.

And then you notice how extremely pasty white you are. Next issue.

Thankful (Blog 4)

2010-11-29T18:03:00.001-08:00

Eric and I were both raised in incredible families. We grew up surrounded with joy, love and fun. But most of all, we grew up to know the Lord and all of His blessings, sacrifices and mercies in our lives. We have the same pictures of us at awkward ages, smiling in front of the grand canyon, or Disney world, or the Lincoln Memorial. We grew up with football games after church on Sunday mornings and quiet bed time prayers with our parents. Now we are so blessed that our children have been welcomed into this supportive family unit. Our kids have met almost all of their great grand parents. Our kids know what it's like to have an aunt or uncle give you a treat on a holiday. It is the best. And I am so very, very grateful for all our sisters, brothers, fathers, mothers, nieces and nephews that make up our awesome little world!

More Things (Blog 3)

2010-11-29T05:19:00.001-08:00

A little while ago, I prayed to the Lord for more friends. He responded by giving me Julie. Julie reminds me of what it was like to have an undying loyalty to the girl that got the bunk next to you at summer camp. She is honest and kind, encouraging and empathetic. She has opened up friendships with several other awesome women who happen to be in the same place that I am in right now. In fact that's one of them there in the picture. But the best part about Julie is that she is fun! She dives head first into whatever joy is before her and lights up a room. Unafraid of making herself vulnerable and just letting it all out. If you don't know someone like this,I suggest starting those nightly prayers like I did. Every one needs someone like this to love. Everyone needs someone like this to love them. Everyone needs a Julie.

I've only told like 4 people this...

2010-11-27T19:06:00.000-08:00

Eric and I were talking about embarrassing moments last night and I realized that I just don't have any. Don't get me wrong, even the other day while at the movie theater, I didn't want to have to ask the people next to us to get up so I decided to climb over the railing and ended up over compensating and flinging myself from the bars so aggressively that I pretty much ended up in the "down ward dog" position in the middle of Harry Potter. Then I farted in the bathroom.

I guess if I truly felt ashamed of this, I wouldn't share. The only things that really make me feel embarrassed are the times when I just destroy goodness and all her blessings. It's the harsh, razor like words that I cut Eric deeply with during an argument. Or the anger explosions that land there shrapnel on the ones I love the most. These things I keep protected and sealed, ashamed of their very presence in my mind.

But this blog isn't about those. It's about the time I got picked as a chapel committee leader during an assembly at school and then yelled, "Hey everybody, Look at me!" before I tripped and fell through the projector in front of 400 people. (That won me an in school suspension.) Or the time I wore my hot pink sweat pants with the huge hole in the butt over my hot pink underwear because "no one would notice" and ended up getting into a car accident in the Dominicks parking lot and having to go to the police station with my ass hanging out for the city of OBT to see.

But then there are times when the mixture of dark shame and mild humor mix and although kept to myself for years, after breaking this one out with a huge amount of wine involved a few weeks back, I thought it time to tell the world. So, world. Eat your heart out:

I was 21 years old and spending the week with my church youth group fixing homes in Kentucky. Or as I like to call it, hell. The whole week was miserable. Way too hot. Way too many bugs. Way too Kentucky. We were all living in these wooden boxes that were a 100 degrees at night at -20 in the morning. On night 3 of our misfortune, I went to get some of my lemon heads out of my back pack and realized that they had all melted together into a giant candy ball. At first I was thrilled! The food at the place we were staying at was terrible and my meager hidden stash was dwindling so I thought a massive dose of sugar would be perfect and possibly give me the energy I needed to make it through. It tasted disgusting and ended up just making me feel angry that I was stuck in this awful place. I lay in my hot, sticky bed and stared at the cardboard ceiling for a good 10 minutes before I flung my sheets off and decided to head to the cafeteria.

I tiptoed through the dark hallway and opened up the staffs pantry. I did a silent happy dance of joy as my flash light beamed on an industrial size box of smores pop tarts. I got to work. And oh. my goodness. How fast those pop tarts went down. I was covered in chocolate and ripping open my 3rd pack when the lights flashed on and the 2 owners of the camp stood there, stunned and looking at me. Busted. It took me about 3 seconds to decide what to do. Honestly, it came so fast that I wonder if I hadn't had it stored in my mind for years at the off chance I was ever caught in the middle of a sugar binge on a church retreat. (One can never be too prepared.) First, I yelled-"I have diabetes and my sugar is low!" And then I mimicked the only diabetic attack I had ever seen in my whole life. I conjured up Ms. Julia Roberts and the scene that put her on the map. That's right. Steel Magnolias. I'm not gonna lie, it was painful to be there. Even me. The one who started it all. Thrashing around on the floor. Kicking over (and then awkwardly picking up) a jar of apple sauce. And I can't be too certain, but I almost think I yelled, No mama! in the middle of it all. Sinful.

They kind of lugged me over to the "nurses station" and I told her I'd just run to my cabin to get my insulin. Seriously.

I lay on my hot cot, praying for either death or redemption. I guess I got the latter because no one ever came by to check and see if I was okay. No one talked to me about it in the morning and it was never brought up again. One of the perks to being in old Kentucky hot cardboard hell I guess. Bad medical practices for sure!

The Whole Earth Is Filled With His Glory (Blog 2)

2010-11-24T14:24:00.000-08:00

Things I am grateful for (Blog 1)

2010-11-23T18:41:00.000-08:00

This guy. I remember the first time I knew I loved him. We were in the car and the sun was pouring through the window, reflecting off the snow's white and making everything glow. My shoes were on the floor and my feet were pressed against the warm heater vent. The Counting Crows were singing "Anna Begins" in the background. And even though it's one of my favorite songs ever, I barely heard it above our laughter. I wished I could keep that very moment forever, just us two in our own car world. And then I knew. This was the one that was for me. So I shut my eyes to the sun and the warmth and the song. And I thanked God for the gift of love with this guy.

I love The Shawshank Redemption. And here's why-

2010-11-20T16:18:00.001-08:00

"Hope is a good thing. Maybe the best of things. And the best things never die."

"I find I'm so excited I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it's the excitement only a free man can feel. A free man who is at the start of a long journey, whose conclusion is uncertain. I hope I can make it across the boarder. I hope to see my friend and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope."

Maybe a tad dramatic....

2010-11-18T05:31:00.000-08:00

One of the side effects to my depression. It's fantastic if you're a theater student I assume, but not so much when you're an aimless blogger. Just flush those occasional crazy ones out and carry on.

At the bottom

2010-11-17T10:58:00.001-08:00

I remember a time when I believed in all my heart that I could fly. Because I would rest my head on my pillow at night and stare at the world below. I remember dancing to Madonna for hours and flattening my hair, poofing my bangs and heading to the mall with Lisa where we would sit, Sbarros in hand, by the fountain forever and talk about all the mysteries ahead. Then there was Eric. How I would look at the clock and count every minute until I got to be with him. How time apart for me felt empty and dull until we finally were together and I would come alive. If you know that nothing will ever be what it once was, how long do you keep searching? How long do you push and plod through the mediocrity to find something to cling onto? How come I just can't fly anymore?

What rhymes with Over Eaters Anonymous?

2010-11-13T18:32:00.000-08:00

To keep my spirits up, I've been trying to write a theme song about my life's journey thus far. Because I know this will be my mark on the world of music, I wish to remain completely organic and I keep a piece of paper by my bed to write down the last thing I think of before I fall asleep. In fact, there are several capital letters followed by pen lines that run across the page because my pill kicked in before I had time to finish. This embarrassing business has been going on for about a week now. Here is what is written on my sheet so far:

Rainbow bright
Christian Slater (Unrequited love)
The Heath is On! R.I.P.
Kids
That one time I pretended my name was Amanda Billingsly to avoid the church barbecue
Flying solo?
Hans solo?
Farts

Seriously? I jolted myself out a slight doze to write down farts as the theme song of my life. This can only end well.

THE haircut

2010-11-10T14:54:00.001-08:00

My nephew Theoren summed it up best when he looked at him for the first time after Eric shaved it all and said-Where's Miles?

SIlly Me

2010-11-10T05:51:00.000-08:00

Robots don't have cellulite, adult on set acne or anger issues. I actually am probably the epitome of a human being.

Droid Does

2010-11-09T06:38:00.000-08:00

I stopped trying to do anything that would make me look like an actual woman quite awhile ago. But every now and then I muster up the strength to at least slather a thin layer of deodorant on and wash my hair, that way you can tell I am a human. But this morning, after looking in the mirror and seeing all that needs improvement while trying to play and discipline and feed and bathe the kids I realize that I am nothing more than a robot. A robot whose only goal is to survive today to make it to tomorrow. Where I play and discipline and feed and bathe the kids. Why does it have to be THIS hard?

Autumnal Blessings

2010-11-07T18:47:00.000-08:00

I can't figure out if I'm okay with it or not....

2010-11-06T16:39:00.001-07:00

But this little guy started crawling today. And this picture right here? This was taken just 6 months ago when we came home from the hospital. And from what I'm told, tomorrow is his first day of college and suddenly I just want him to stay on my lap forever.

The dangers continue-

2010-11-04T07:23:00.000-07:00

Don't you hate it when you're driving home and "Don't fear the Reaper" comes on and so you crank it up and dance like no one can see you. And then you look over and the guys at the light next to you are doing the same thing to the same song. So you roll down your window and yell-I have a fever and the only prescription is more cowbell!-and give a giant thumbs up while secretly high fiving yourself in your head for being so original. But then the light NEVER TURNS GREEN and you're stuck awkwardly dancing and trying not to look over at each other because the only line that can ever be uttered while hearing that song has already been said. Now what?

Truly Frightening

2010-10-29T17:05:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile. Now that it's officially the Halloween season I've been busy watching scary movies like; Paranormal Activity and The Sixth Sense. Then I grab a knife from my kitchen, go in my room, change my underwear, lock all the doors, hide under my blankets, stop moving and try to stop breathing, absolutely paralyzed with fright. It is awesome! And very wise too I might add.

So here is something scarier than what that awfully angry man did with the corn husker in The Crazies, it really wasn't his fault though because -Spoiler Alert-the government was behind it all!! I recently started up a hormone supplement. It's quite a bit like The Pill with a few minor tweeks here and there to give you that "calm, in control feeling" that you so desire. It is made by Yaz and Cole absolutely loves the stuff! Honestly, the box looks like it was designed with a 12 year old in mind. It is a bright shiny blue with crazy little polka dots bouncing around all over the place. Something about it screams Punky Brewster and I have to keep it on the top shelf of our bathroom closet lest Cole snatch a few. Hold the phone! "Calm, In control"....Hmmmm.... :)

So I was describing it to a few of my girl friends at play group, telling them how I'm secretly tempted to take more than one because that damn box has me thinking I'm eating m and m's and not simply controlling my raging hormones and one of them asks me what Yaz is. I told them how it's the birth control that has that commercial where the women are walking around, head held high, while "We're not gonna take it" by Twisted Sister plays in the back ground. And then suddenly the word: Bloated! flashes across the screen and the woman punches it with her fist. (And Wacha! I make a huge, dramatic punching motion to emphasize my point.) Then comes: Tired! And she karate chops it in half. (Blam! I do the same.) And then comes:Farting! And she kicks it to all get out!

Now this is where the story gets good because just as I yell Farting!, I furrow my brow and throw my leg up and it gets stuck on the top of the t.v. Stuck. On top of the t.v. There is no way of doing that and looking cool about it. I jerked my leg back, loosing my balance and fell on the floor with the loudest thud. It sounded like thunder. No one said anything. (Bless their hearts.) I just lay there, wishing I could go back in a time machine and not choose to wear my giant pumpkin Halloween costume that morning. I was so embarrassed and one of my dear, sweet friends who always tries to "save" me in these kind of situations speaks up and says very seriously, "I didn't know farting was a side effect to PMS."

"It isn't for all women," says the giant, horrified pumpkin on the floor.

The definition of Narcissism:

2010-10-24T11:51:00.000-07:00

Taking a picture of a picture of yourself and using it for your Facebook profile shot.

Time cast a spell on you

2010-10-17T19:07:00.000-07:00

I forgot who I was tonight. I lost myself somewhere between Landslide and Silver Springs on my mixed Fleetwood Mac c.d. and suddenly I was no longer the frumpy girl that ate a handful of peanuts and candy corn for breakfast, No. I was Ms. Stevie Nix herself, dressed in black death glory. The cigarette I had stolen from Eric earlier danced between my fingers splashing the words Your shining Autumn, Ocean crashing against the night sky. I became more and more emphatic that I get the answers I was seeking; And did you say that she was pretty? And did you say that she loved you? Just when I was about to erupt with passion that I didn't want to know-the person behind me honked and quick zipped around me to go through the now stale green light. I drove home and am currently sitting in a neon orange Halloween t shirt with a smiling pumpkin face on it, eating a cold fry I found in my couch cushions and watching Eric dominate (I'm told) on Mass Effect 2. Yup, me again.

Who rocks the party that rocks the party?

2010-10-15T20:42:00.001-07:00

And just so you know....this one is 6 months. And he totally kicks it!

Triumph of a 2 year old

2010-10-15T04:21:00.001-07:00

Don't Worry About a Thing

2010-10-09T19:09:00.000-07:00

Because every little thing is gonna be alright.

(Mama and Miles 10/10)

Big Boy

2010-10-07T17:31:00.000-07:00

I was recently the victim of a horrifically disturbing moment and now that almost a week has gone by, I feel healed enough to share.

On Sunday night, I visited Eric's childhood church because my dad is a member of a choir that was singing there. I brought Miles with me because my dad loves to show him off to his friends. Those 2 are made for each other. Anyway, about half way through the service, I noticed the nursery attendant frantically searching the audience and figured she was looking for me so I headed out the back of the church.

Here is where things get, well, what I can only think to call David Sedaris-esque. It turns out it was a different child crying so I walked back to the nursery with both the attendant and other mom and casually said, "I'm just gonna hit the bathroom really quick before I head back." to both the women and about 3 or 4 teens who were helping in the nursery. Simple words. How could I know that I was sealing my fate by telling everyone of my intentions?

Walking into the bathroom was like walking into the eternal bog of stench. I should of just left right then and made a huge stink (zing!) about how someone had defiled the bathroom earlier in the evening but I panicked! I think it had something to do with the meatloaf sized turd lazily floating around the bowl of the toilet. The realization came slowly-I just told about 6 people that I was coming in here. This is now my deal.

I tried to flush but I had about as much success as the previous owner had and there was a good solid moment of sheer terror as the water rose a little bit before emptying. I tried to take apart the back of the toilet to see if I could do anything from that end but I just stared at the little levers blankly before realizing I needed a different strategy if I was going to beat this. The clock was ticking and I knew enough time had passed that a story of a ghost pooper that came before me was no longer going to fly. Who would believe that I stayed in the bathroom and tried to deal with this for fear that people would think I did it? I started to get angry. This was a church for goodness sake! These are holy people. I wanted to run out of there and demand an explanation from someone. Who does this on a Sunday night, a few feet away from a nursery? Where there are children! And why did I have to announce to everyone that I was making my way in here? Leaving it open ended in there mind if I was just simply checking my lip gloss or birthing a poop iceberg. What is wrong with me?

I tried to focus and remain calm. I remembered reading this almost exact same scenario in a book of essays by David Sedaris and he got to the point where he almost picked a poop out of the toilet at his friends party to throw it out the window so no one would accuse him of being the one to have made it.

I was not going to let it get to that point. So, I did the only thing I could think of. I just kicked open the door and ran.

It was the worst possible thing to have done because I am sure that everyone in the nursery was curious to see what I had done that scared me so. I basically got all of there attention going into the bathroom and then coming out. It's a death sentence for a person in my situation.

So yeah, we probably won't be visiting that church again anytime soon.

It's like rain on your wedding day

2010-10-03T11:21:00.001-07:00

I was looking through my "School Years" keep sake box this afternoon and I came across my '88 Ballot card and laughed hard enough that I thought I'd share.

In what can only be described as an ironic twist, A 3rd grade Kristen once voted for Bush in our In School Mock Election simply because she thought Dukakis sounded like a dirty word. That's right....Bush.

Wednesday Night Tradition

2010-09-29T18:49:00.000-07:00

Eric is my favorite person in the whole wide world to watch Survivor with. He allows me to get enraged over the dumbest things and remind him over and over and over my strategy for winning the entire game. I won't write it out here at the off chance that season 207 takes place in Chicago and fat middle aged women are really sought out at that time-but let's just say it involves flying way under the radar. Okay...that actually is my entire strategy. What else do I got? Anyway, on top of listening to me babble on and on he lets me lay my legs across him and rubs my feet because now that summer has ended they are actually confined in shoes the whole day. We sit and drink apple cider and he pauses when I have to go to the bathroom and (wait a minute!)as I am typing all the joys of watching the show I am realizing that there is no way I would make it a day! But I still have a great excuse to spend some time with my guy. And yeah, that's worth about a million bucks to me.

Home Sweet Home

2010-09-29T10:04:00.000-07:00

So I guess saying that I "cut off the tip of my finger" was a little dramatic. Very much like the time I borrowed my dad's velcro leg cast for a week in 7th grade because I had a little bit of an ingrown toenail. Anyway, on night 2 of my ladies weekend with friends I went to pick up my cosmetics bag to change my contacts and didn't realize my razor blade was sticking up. It's healing nicely and I hate that that is the first story I come back with because there is so many other things to share.

I also think that God may have used my sawed off finger (the story grows) as a buffer between me and my blog because my discernment has been slightly off kilter as of late. Even on my fun, crazy weekend away with the girls-I mainly just sat around in my Little House on the Prairie p.j.'s and quietly read my book. Then my poor room mate Julie who I am sure bunked with me in the belief that I would actually be a good time on a trip would open her eyes at 6 a.m. each morning and there I'd be-"Thank God you're awake Julie! I've just had a revelation about my child hood and I need to know your thoughts" or "My lady just isn't herself lately and I'm starting to grow concerned." Well, there goes that discernment buffer I guess.

I'm a bit of an open wound right now and I can't trust the things that pour out of me. Things are getting shaken around and we'll see what's left at the end.

Outside of all that, Girls weekend was fantastic! I soaked everything in. The fun conversations, the margaritas, the hot tub. The fun conversations with margaritas in the hot tub. The fire place that told me I was his favorite and made me sit right next to him each day as I read my book. The beyond ridiculous meals that had me unbuttoning my pants only to find myself munching on caramel bugels (dubbed Satans snack by Stephanie-and rightly so) a half hour later. The shopping, where I found jeans that fit! And...no kids! I peed whenever I liked. I showered and stood in the water stream,counting the tile. Because I could. I took naps. I sometimes let dirty tasting words slip out of my mouth. I let even dirtier cigarettes slip in. And I know I am making it sound like a brothel at this point so I will just redirect you to the Mammy p.j.'s I wandered around in. Most of the time I was beyond tame but I just had to, had to shake lose from all that's been grabbing onto me for awhile.

Here's the best part of it all though and then I'll let you get back to your lives. I missed my family. On Saturday morning I got to thinking about Eric and how it's a shame that he hadn't tucked me in the night before. How good it would be to have him right there, right then sharing breakfast with me. And then came a phone call to my Mom, who told me how Cole ran from exhibit to exhibit at the zoo, so excited to see the next "manimal" that he hardly would let anyone keep up. And I could hear Miles cooing in the back of my mind kinda needing the life that only I can give him. I was a little scared this wouldn't happen and that I'd dread going home. But what a joyful surprise it was that I couldn't even take the time to pull my keys out of the car, I just let it sit there running, because I needed to hug my man and kiss my babies so badly.
It's good to leave a little room to miss one another from time to time.

I have a lot to tell you-

2010-09-27T17:29:00.000-07:00

But I accidentally cut off the tip of my finger on girls weekend and even this amount of pecking at the keys to avoid my ridiculous gauze patch work is driving me bonkers. Stay tuned!

Sigh...

2010-09-22T17:19:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I just really miss Fox Mulder.

The Tale of the Ring Bearer that wasn't....Almost.

2010-09-19T16:31:00.000-07:00

Friday nights rehearsal dinner will forever go down in my mind as one of my favorite times with Cole. Something about meeting all those new people brought out the best in my little man. I was worried about him being too timid to walk down the aisle but half way through our practice, as he pushed the bride aside and strutted around blowing kisses like he owned the church, OVER confidence became my number one concern. Then we had a fantastic meal at Francessas and he-what's the word I'm looking for-networked?, socialized, mingled, rubbed shoulders? I guess however you would say shmoozed for a 2 year old-everyone there. It was so fun!

I guess I didn't have to be worried he'd attempt to show up the groom because the moment they opened the doors on the real wedding day (you know, the one that actually matters) he threw down that pillow and headed out the door of the church. Maria asked me to pick him up and walk down the aisle so I quick snatched him and humbly stared at the floor while everyone politely nodded at us.

He kept quiet during the service. Thanks to about a bazillion smarties and an odd obsession with turning every page in the Psalter hymnal. He did much better on the way out, holding his cousins hand and s-l-o-w-l-ymaking his way to the exit.

I was proud of him. He did the regular 2 year old gig a few times and cried through our family pictures, but all in all I think he added just a little touch of joy and humor to the day.

Now for the good stuff. Maria was STUNNING. She absolutely looked radiant. The flowers were the color of everything wonderful in fall. The food was delicious. And I even got Eric to awkwardly bob around on the dance floor for awhile. Hey, if his 82 year old Grandma was shaking the goods (and she was!) then he could indulge me for a song or 2.

I do feel very fortunate to have married into such a wonderful family. But as I looked around the dance floor last night, laughing with Eric's sisters while our nieces and nephews went crazy to the music, watched while my mother and father in law whispered in each others ears with huge smiles on their faces, and saw my little guy triumph over his stage fright and walk slowly out of the church, I couldn't help but say a quick prayer thanking God that Eric found me and invited me into all of this.

Maria's Wedding!

2010-09-19T16:23:00.000-07:00

5 Months Today!

2010-09-16T17:17:00.000-07:00

A letter

2010-09-16T10:12:00.000-07:00

Dear Kristen 2007,

Man I wish I could of gotten this to you sooner. There's some things you really need to know and I am afraid I'm letting you know them a little too late on this one. You see, right now you have this notion that being a Mom looks like a pretty easy gig. You have all these wacky ideas about parenting and how "bad kids are only products of bad parenting". And what you consider "bad" is pretty stringent. Like that one child you saw last night while you and Eric were out to eat (Oh-Enjoy the restaurant days now!) who threw his sippy cup across the room! Right there! And the tired mom with no make up and sad eyes didn't even say anything about it! It's almost as if she was asking for it. And that Mom that you saw drop her little kid off at the nursery and instead of going to coffee break, went back out to her car and slept the whole 2 hours in the drivers seat? Out of control! You're thinking that you'll never be like that. Letting the kids run the show. Just you wait girl. I won't go into it all because I don't want you chickening out on things about to happen. But ease up. The next time a sippy comes flying across the room, go pick it up so the other mom can enjoy her meal. She's probably out of her house right now because she has to be. And when you see a woman so desperate for a break that she's sleeping like a hobo in the dead of winter, you bring her a cup of coffee and a smile. Maybe things will turn around this week for her after all. Stop judging. You simply know nothing about what you're looking at.
And if my memory serves me correctly, it is around this time that you start hearing rumors they're making a 4th installment in the Indiana Jones movies and you're already getting pretty excited about it. That's okay to do and I am sure (in fact I know) that you'll enjoy it when it comes out. But honey, Harrison Ford is getting older and we both need to face the facts. It just won't be as good as the other 3 so lower your expectations a bit okay?

With love, (and a HUGE dose of patience you don't even know you have yet.)
Kris 2010

Just one of them days

2010-09-13T19:05:00.000-07:00

This morning I had a bunch of women in my family over for coffee and conversation. It was nice, us all being together and catching up. I don't know if it was because Cole was kind of frustrating me or because I completely blew my diet and ate a huge clump of pecan roll, but after every one left I got to feeling real down about things.

I started thinking about the Pacific ocean and how I wonder if I'll ever see it. And then I thought about all the things that I kind of thought I'd of done by now and how life seems to be a giant moving constant current of activity. Meanwhile I sit in my living room and watch Curious George 12 times a day. It's not that I'm not content because I am. I've been blessed with so much more than I ever even imagined was possible. It's just that my life looks different than I thought it would and sometimes that's good and sometimes it's not is all.

I decided to deal with my blues in the way I've been doing way too much lately. I cracked open a mini bottle of wine and impatiently fast forwarded my way through Benjamin Button, waiting for Brad Pitt to get to his young part.

It's good to have a reminder every now and again that you're no better than anybody else.

An honest mistake

2010-09-09T19:14:00.001-07:00

Someone I know accidentally used the mens bathroom at Target this afternoon. This poor girl was forced to put her shiny silver flip flops pressed against the door so no one could see her pedicured toes. She also had to endure the agony of listening to 2 men pee and leave with out washing their hands. The poor thing had to buy herself a coffee on the way out and listen to Depeche Mode the whole way home to make up for it. It helped....but just a little.

Slowly learning that life is okay

2010-09-05T04:18:00.000-07:00

Here is little Miles hanging on to the front of his Uncle at the Childrens Museum. And the word "little" is a completely appropriate description. We are approaching 5 months and he is 12.4 lbs and 24 in. I just never thought I'd have a tiny baby. In the days of old, when I would picture what Eric and my kids would look like, a shocking curly tangle of thick blond hair made it's way in to my mind. Followed only by massive chubby legs and probably (from birth) glasses. When people ask me if he's adopted my head never jumps to all of the obvious differences between him and I. I'm just like, Oh my goodness! My child would never come out this small!

Don't be fooled world. What he lacks in size, he makes up for in determination and strength. Those little chicken legs can support his whole body! He wriggles around the bed and rolls over like it ain't no thing. He decided to get a tooth the other week and gnawed a few of Erics fingers off before one popped out. This kid does not skip a beat. He knows every thing going on in the room, moving his head from side to side to better hear every word of the conversation.

I picked the picture of he and Kyle because there is one thing about Miles that is my absolute favorite and you can catch a glimpse of it in there. Like the mover and shaker he is, Miles is constantly wriggling around in his Baby Bjorn. At first, I wasn't a huge fan of getting slapped in the face 18 times a minute by my little one. But yesterday I took a walk with him around the lake at the Morton Arboretum. His hands were up the whole time and every step we took filled him with such delight that he would give these squeaks of joy.

It reminded me of what it was like the first time I was at the top of a roller coaster. Right before I knew my heart was going to plunge into my shoes. How my friend Kim told me to let go and throw my hands up. I thought she was insane but I did it. I was terrified and laughing, but I just let go. It felt wonderful! It was kind of the ultimate surrender.

So I took a cue from my little, strong baby and let go, throwing my hands up in the air as I walked around the lake. Kind of the ultimate surrender.