Nineteen years ago, little Bethany Koenig was born. The world has never been the same.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Bethany! The Tredways are sending loving birthday vibes your way!

(Really, I knew it was your birthday… Ummm, I was just messing with ya earlier.)

I went to Zoo Hell today.

It was dark and humid, full of people and a little stinky. It was the Nocturnal exhibit at Henry Doorly Zoo.

I went in against my better judgment, at the desire of my loving husband of five years. Afterall, it was a special date day and marriage is nothing if not compromise. So in we went. Within minutes, standing in almost pitch-darkness in the child-congested corridor I knew I had entered some strange netherworld. It was only a few steps further where the younglings’ loud shouts and shrieks echoed off the black cavern walls into displays of various creatures of the dark, where the warm, stifling, stagnant air practically sucked the breath from my lungs that I knew I had entered Zoo Hell. We then double-timed it past the reptiles and insects, past the bats, past the swamp area where we briefly saw a ghostly alligator (or was it a crocodile? don’t care, just get me out!!), jostling millions of small children, big children, strollers and backpacks, and finally out the exit door.

Zoo Heaven is sunshine and a clean breeze. Room to smile at and walk alongside the large numbers of yellow-shirted 4 to 10 year olds from McKinley Elementary School. It’s a special date day with my loving husband on an absolutely beautiful day in May. And it was appreciated all the more after Zoo Hell was conquered.

This morning I dealt with my usual internal struggle, What to eat for breakfast? The double-chocolate Oreos — come on! the bag’s already open and there are just a few left — and a glass of milk? Or bran flake cereal with strawberries — bran, not very exciting, and I’ve gotta wash and cut the strawberries, blah.

After making the decision, and throwing in a load of laundry (the life of a part-time homemaker), I checked my email and read the following from the American Diabetes Association:
“Currently more than 60 percent of Americans are classified as obese or overweight, which raises the risk not only of diabetes, but also of heart disease, stroke and certain cancers. New findings report that increasing numbers of children, adolescents and even toddlers are becoming obese, with many young people showing early signs of diabetes and other diseases associated with being overweight or obese.”

Though somewhat shocked by these findings, I smiled and took another bite of bran flakes and strawberries.

I am somewhat overwhelmed by two great viewing experiences this past weekend… [warning: potential “Alias” season-finale spoilers included]

First was Saturday night’s “Thirteen Conversations About One Thing” at the Koenig’s house. It’s a rare occasion that I actually discuss a movie immediately after watching it (Jeremy usually needs more time to digest it). But Saturday 12 of us analyzed the film for an hour or so and now my brain is missing the details of the entire movie! Maybe I didn’t give it enough time to really “soak in.” Even though I can’t easily recall the technical twists and turns, my body somehow retains the emotion of the film and I simultaneously feel contented, sad, joyful and distressed.

Second was the season finale of “Alias” last night, enjoyed on a crystal clear television screen at the Cutler’s house (and in the presence of a delightful, three week old Cadence Cutler!). So much to think about — again, details are evading me. Oh my goodness, Will and evil Francie! Jack and Irena! The Evil Sloane and hysterical Marshall! Not to mention Sydney and Vaughn — TWO YEARS??? If you’ve got the show on tape, let me know.

Something occurs to me to be a bit ironic every time i enter a particular roundabout in south Lincoln that is situated between the new YMCA center and the new public library… A roundabout gives you options and this one lets you choose, on one side the library — books, knowledge, cafe mochas, internet connection, dewey decimal system — and on the other, the YMCA — exercise, fitness, spinning classes and muscled men, cute workout clothes and primo locker rooms. Is this a bit ironic to anyone else? It seems to me to be a very obvious division between the physically fit and the bookworms of Lincoln, Nebraska! In fact, everytime I veer off to the right (the library) I simultaneously feel guilty for only seeing the interior of the Y once and irritated with my jealousy of all the people I imagine who are only interested in the shape of their beautifully toned bodies.

S-i-g-h.

It’s the roundabout’s fault!

Ironically, too — the people who are truly well-rounded (grab the pun) have experienced both sides of the roundabout. I can only think of one person I know who exists in both “worlds.” It’s probably true that usually one chooses either the library or the YMCA. Ah, the roundabout.

When my little brother Andrew was in elementary school and I in junior high I used to say, “Oh Andrew — just wait til you get here. Junior High is great!”

Four years later, “Andrew, junior high is nothing… High school is the best!”

Approximately four years later, “You will LOVE college. You can skip classes if you want, no one tells you that you have to be in school. College life is great!”

I think it was at this point that Andrew exploded and told me that I always said “the next step” was the best. He was right. Four years younger meant he experienced everything after me… It’s only now that I’m in the sometimes-boring adult world that I turn around and tell him to enjoy the college years, that these are years of freedom and fun and learning that you’ll probably never experience after graduation. The truth of the matter is that each stage of life is great and wonderful, each day meant to be experienced and enjoyed because it is where God has placed us.

As I eagerly look forward to the next stage of my life and become increasingly impatient with my current status, I find great comfort in this reminder: “The life of faith is lived one day at a time, and it has to be lived — not always looked forward to as though the ‘real’ living were around the next corner. It is today for which we are responsible. God still owns tomorrow.” (Elisabeth Elliot, Let Me Be a Woman)

I have no idea who Betty Stam is, but I have discovered her prayer through Elisabeth Elliot’s Let Me Be a Woman. This prayer is one of humility and faith, one I would like to repeat every morning:

“Lord, I give up all my own plans and purposes, all my own desires and hopes, and accept Thy will for my life. I give myself, my life, my all utterly to Thee to be Thine forever. Fill me and seal me with Thy Holy Spirit. Use me as Thou wilt, work out Thy whole will in my life at any cost, now and forever.”

I caught the tale end of a sports segment on the news last night about this girl who, I suppose, was nervous and needed assistance in singing the Star Spangled Banner before some sports event (and this wasn’t peewee football, it looked like a college or pro game). The reason it got press attention was because the coach of one of the teams put his arm around her and sang along to help encourage her — I’ll admit, it was kind of sweet. A few things annoyed me, though… 1) She didn’t know all the words, and 2) she was pretty off-key.

Come on, people! How hard can it be to know the words to our NATIONAL ANTHEM?

Note to self… What the Next Generation of Tredways Must Know: the correct lyrics to the Star Spangled Banner.

Hello, my name is Rebecca.

Oh my gosh. My dead ancestors would roll over in their graves if they could see stuff like this (and the tampon commercials on television these days — heck, they even make me blush!).