View from the Prairie Box

Welcome to the world, Baby Kate! My good friend Natasha delivered Kate last Thursday; we were thrilled and delighted to hold this 9lb, 1oz little girl on Friday. This child is absolutely adorable.

Zion Church has been blessed with babies like you wouldn’t believe. I’ve done the math and since last August, 14 babies have been born. In February alone four kiddos were delivered. In related baby news, our buddy Simon is home now and he’s doing wonderfully. He’s such a little peanut right now—teeny and perfect.

**I’m suffering from a serious case of Blogger’s Malaise. Hope this condition goes away soon!

Liv and I were walking. These cute dogs were sitting, oh-so patiently waiting for their master to get something delicious from DaVinci’s restaurant.Two little dogs in a big manly man truck.

On the way to Target we noticed the moon, bright and beautiful, high in the sky. On the way home from Target, I told Liv the clouds were partially blocking the moon. Geez, get with the program, Bec… Thank you, CNN, for setting me straight.

• Wishing: I had more motivation to write the blog posts that continue to roll around my brain.
• Typing: Over and over, due to my competitive nature. [HT to Lori.]
• Munching: On the remainder of Livia’s M&Ms from V-Day. Hey, she got tons of candy and clearly someone needs to help her eat it all.
• Reading: A Clash of Kings by George R.R. Martin. More on this in my end-of-the-month review.
• Watching: No Reservations and part of Maxed Out, a documentary on Americans and debt.
• Cooking: Finally, a decent meal for my fam tonight.
• Thinking: Lots of children’s clothes are made for children shorter and more rotund than Livia–most of her shirts expose her round belly these days. Quick, someone give me a Sharpie!
• Planning: To recycle more and search for products for Liv without phthalates.
• Singing: Happy Birthday to my pop who turned, ahem, 60 yesterday! [big grin]
• Loving: Livia’s cuddly nature and Jeremy’s willingness to relieve me of parenting for a portion of every evening.
• Deciding: To be done inging for one night.

I woke up this morning and look what I found… A beautiful new Prairie Box! What a valentine!

I love everything about this new design. In case you were wondering, it all came from Jeremy, not an ounce was designed by me. I love the font and colors, the scrollwork, the gray wallpaper design that grades out (that’s my non-technical description of it) as you scroll down. I love the prairie grass at the bottom of the page, and I love the small touches that only a designer would implement. Thank you, Valentine. I love you most.

I’ve been told that most kids will stop sucking their fingers around age 4 or 5 due to peer pressure. My child is not “most kids” though so I’m not holding my breath. The very first song she created goes something like this: Finger Mouth. Finger Mo-ou-outh. Oooohhh! Finger Mouth! God bless those two wrinkly fingers on her right hand. They’ve calmed her more nights than one would imagine.

I am not good at saying goodbye.

I don’t like it, the goodbye part that is. I put off saying goodbye until the absolute last minute, no drawn out goodbyes from me. Each friend of mine fills my life in a unique way, kind of like the way evangelicals talk about the Jesus-shaped vacuum in everyone’s hearts. I have the Jesus vacuum as well–except it’s not a hole, it’s filled with Jesus, but you know what I mean–but I also have friend shapes that feel, well, vacuous when that friend is gone from my every day world.

One of my dearest friends moved away last spring. Julie had seen me through every stage of my adult life thus far… Dating, engagement, marriage, struggles within marriage, joys within marriage, desiring children but still waiting for them, then adoption, infancy and toddlerhood. I had envisioned hosting her daughters’ bridal showers someday in the future and, like other women at Zion, I imagined sharing stories about how I remember when her mother was nine months pregnant with the bride and how she was so ready to deliver. But within two weeks of a job change, Julie’s family moved. It felt like a bandaid had been ripped off, quick yet painful.

I’ve known about today’s goodbye for sometime now, and it was actually prolonged by several weeks, so the bandaid metaphor clearly doesn’t apply. I am wholeheartedly behind the O’Donnells’ move to Japan, yet my support doesn’t lessen the sadness I feel by the Jamie-shaped vacuum in my heart. Jamie, Bryan & Jones have been an integral part of our community dinners for the last 18 months, and as such, they have become like family. It’s nearly impossible to break bread with someone every single week and not become something of a tight knit community. It’s been a joy to see Bryan & Jamie: The Newlyweds turn into Bryan & Jamie: The Parents. And then there’s Jones, who I got to hold and love on from his birth last March to his toddling days last week. Suffice to say there will be a piece of us missing when we next gather for a meal at Brook’s place.

Okay, so I don’t like goodbyes. I cry the ugly cry (as Oprah says) and feel like weeping for hours afterwards. But I suppose the goodbyes are themselves are only testaments to how treasured these friendships have been. As a Christian, I can say with utmost confidence that the story of these dear friends is not over yet. The goodbyes I cry over today are not the final goodbyes; eternity is yet to come.

I am not good at saying goodbye.

I don’t like it, the goodbye part that is. I put off saying goodbye until the absolute last minute, no drawn out goodbyes from me. Each friend of mine fills my life in a unique way, kind of like the way evangelicals talk about the Jesus-shaped vacuum in everyone’s hearts. I have the Jesus vacuum as well–except it’s not a hole, it’s filled with Jesus, but you know what I mean–but I also have friend shapes that feel, well, vacuous when that friend is gone from my every day world.

One of my dearest friends moved away last spring. Julie had seen me through every stage of my adult life thus far… Dating, engagement, marriage, struggles within marriage, joys within marriage, desiring children but still waiting for them, then adoption, infancy and toddlerhood. I had envisioned hosting her daughters’ bridal showers someday in the future and, like other women at Zion, I imagined sharing stories about how I remember when her mother was nine months pregnant with the bride and how she was so ready to deliver. But within two weeks of a job change, Julie’s family moved. It felt like a bandaid had been ripped off, quick yet painful.

I’ve known about today’s goodbye for sometime now, and it was actually prolonged by several weeks, so the bandaid metaphor clearly doesn’t apply. I am wholeheartedly behind the O’Donnells’ move to Japan, yet my support doesn’t lessen the sadness I feel by the Jamie-shaped vacuum in my heart. Jamie, Bryan & Jones have been an integral part of our community dinners for the last 18 months, and as such, they have become like family. It’s nearly impossible to break bread with someone every single week and not become something of a tight knit community. It’s been a joy to see Bryan & Jamie: The Newlyweds turn into Bryan & Jamie: The Parents. And then there’s Jones, who I got to hold and love on from his birth last March to his toddling days last week. Suffice to say there will be a piece of us missing when we next gather for a meal at Brook’s place.

Okay, so I don’t like goodbyes. I cry the ugly cry (as Oprah says) and feel like weeping for hours afterwards. But I suppose the goodbyes are themselves are only testaments to how treasured these friendships have been. As a Christian, I can say with utmost confidence that the story of these dear friends is not over yet. The goodbyes I cry over today are not the final goodbyes; eternity is yet to come.

I keep reading reports from you Southerners out there. Reports of warm breezes and open doors, of daffodils emerging from their winter homes underground, of taking the kids to parks and playgrounds because it’s so lovely outside. And considering spring is my favorite time of the year, I’ve been turning green with envy. As you can see, life in snow-covered Nebraska continues! For today I will continue to dream of warmer weather as I pull on my Stormtroopers and walk the pathways cleared by the Snow Blower Fairy (ahem, this name was coined by Renae before she knew who cleared our sidewalks; thank you!!).