A New Take on a Classic

This afternoon while playing in the yard, Shepherd was pretending to be Jack from the nursery rhyme, "Jack be nimble, Jack be quick; Jack jump over the candlestick." He would say the rhyme, and then jump off of his little orange slide.

During the middle of this play time, he told me he had to go to the bathroom, so we came in. He headed to the bathroom while I sat on the couch and read my book. After about five minutes, I overheard his little toddler voice doing its characteristic mumbling narration of everything he does. Here is what I heard: "Jack be nimble, Jack be quick; Jack wipe his butt and be ready to jump the candlestick."

As soon as he was done, we headed out and resumed the candlestick jumping.

 

 

Unforseen Complication with Shepherd's Name

A conversation in the park

Me: Shepherd, look at that big dog.
Shepherd: What's its name?
Me: I don't know, but it is a German Shepherd.
Shepherd: No, I'm a German Shepherd.
Me: No, you're a Croatian Shepherd.
Shepherd: Oh, yay, Mom. That's right.

Spring

I love the first days of spring, the days when it seems perfectly reasonable to wear short in upper-50s weather. Today is on of those first days. BJ had to go out of town for a meeting, so the kids and I are spent a very typical spring morning at home. 

First, we waited out the early morning chill by racing cars down the hallway.

 

 Then, we headed outside in our shorts with light jackets.

 

At one point, Shepherd insisted I take a picture of the boo-boo on his knew.

Somewhere along the way, Shep got ahold of the camera.  Oh well.

 

Happy Spring, everyone!

Siblings

Shep and Lydi are starting to fight. They bicker. They pick on each other. Shep finds new and creative ways every day to irritate poor Lydi to her breaking point.

I do a fair amount of refereeing these days, but for the most part, I let them fight. I love seeing that their relationship is growing and deepening. Maybe I'm crazy, but I see the fighting as evidence of this. My brother and I fought all the time growing up. It was in that relationship that I learned how to get over being angry and move on.

Fortunately, they don't just fight. After Lydia's nap, Shepherd always wants to be the one to open her door and greet her. She bounces up and down in her bed excitedly every time. And when they reunite after one has been away running an errand or shopping with mom or dad, they hug. Before they go to bed, Shepherd has to kiss Lydia's cheek, and Lydia has to say "nigh-night" to Shep. There is plenty of evidence that there is no love lost between these two little warriors.

Post-Vacation Chaos

I love the anticipation part of trips. I like packing and planning and making list after list after list. I find the actual vacation part slightly less enjoyable (although I do LOVE being around family and friends). For a stay-at-home mom, leaving home is really just doing your job under less ideal conditions. We stay-at-home moms build sacred routines that keep our toddlers from being crazy. Trips tend to shatter those routines, thus making our jobs much more difficult.


However, nothing compares to the chaos of returning from a trip. I loath unpacking. I hate the disarray into which it plunges my house. I feel frazzled by my overly-exhausted, hyper-emotional offspring (and it takes a good two weeks for them to get anywhere close to back to normal).


Thankfully, all bags are officially unpacked and put away. The kids are almost back to normal. And my house is clean in parts, so I'll take it.  Maybe now, blog posts will start coming up with a little more regularity. But until then, here is a picture of Lydia demonstrating the way I've been feeling the past few weeks: like my world is flipped upside down.

To the fair!

 I found out today that toddlers love fairs! Who knew? My parents, the kids, and I headed to San Angelo this afternoon for a day at the fair, and we had a marvelous time.  Mostly, we let the kids ride all the fun rides for little ones and try to win some stuffed animals.  Oh, and there might of been one or two funnel cakes thrown in as well.  Here are some pics of the day!

 



One week down...

Well, once again we find ourselves on a two week separation from BJ as he goes off to school for his doctorate.  This time, the kids and I have come down to my parents' house in Texas to pass the time.

 

We are one week in, and as much as I'm enjoying my time with family, I'm officially done with the being-away-from-BJ bit. And yet, I have another week to go.

 

In the past year, BJ has missed our 7th anniversary, Lydia's first birthday, and now (much less significantly) Valentine's Day. It is a clear reminder that for anything worth having (in this case, a doctorate), there are many sacrifices to be made.

 

Leaving "normal life" for two weeks also tends to remind me of all that is meaningful, important, and even sacred in my day to day life. Before we all left, an elder prayed for our family's safety while we all stood around the church's kitchen. Elders pray for me and my family all the time, as they pray for all of the people in our congregation. Their "normal" little prayers for me feel so holy, and I am so deeply grateful for them.

 

A few days after our arrival, BJ said he was really starting to miss the kids.  I jokingly said, "You're missing the chaos, aren't you?" He said, "No. I'm just missing them." The people within those two tiny little bodies are so momentously special. I am also deeply grateful for them.

 

And then there is the sudden absense of BJ.  I turned 29 last Wednesday. I was 19 when we met and started dating. We've spent a decade side by side. Today is Valentine's Day, so I guess I could list all the things I love about him, but somehow, he can't be made into a list.  I can't even seem to coherently say why we work without it sounding trite.  All I know is that day after day after day, we are together in almost every obstacle and joy that particular day brings, and I'll be very ready come a week from now to resume my place by his side.

What I Learned Today

You would think that by the third child, the first ultrasound image and the first sound of their heartbeat would start getting old or loose a bit of its wonder. It doesn't.

From a Three-Year Old

Shepherd's verbal skills keep expanding with each passing day. Sentences are getting longer and more complex. However, the most stunning part of a conversation with Shepherd is usually not the vocabulary or sentence structure. It's the logical conclusions he draws about the situations all around him. Here are three examples from the last couple of weeks.

1. Two weeks ago, the whole family got stomach bugs at the exact same time. Four people, one bathroom. It wasn't pretty. Thankfully, it was a swift bug, and we soon all recovered. After reflecting on how much better he was feeling, Shepherd thoughtfully posed the following question to BJ and me: "Did the stomach bug go into the potty and go for a swim?" Something like that.

2. I made a quick weekend trip mid-January to Menard with the kids to give BJ some much needed homework time after the holidays. As soon as we got there, Shepherd wanted to tell Mamm and Pap about the baby in my tummy. Here's how that story went: "Mommy has a baby in her tummy, and she is going to get bigger and bigger and bigger (making hand gestures that denote a growth in height) like the giant and the bean stalk." Soon after, I clarified what part of mommies get bigger as babies grow.

3. After lunch today, Shepherd was poking BJ's slightly (oh-so-slightly) rotund stomach. He then observed, "Daddy, you've got too much water in your tummy." BJ burst out laughing and said, "I've got too much of something in there."

On Baby Number Three

Well, I haven't really put it out into internet land yet, but I am pregnant with baby number three.  I'm 11 weeks, nauseous every moment of every day, and absolutely exhausted. So, a typical pregnancy for me.

However, there is one thing about this pregnancy that isn't typical. Shepherd and Lydia were both planned, and those pregnancies were at least somewhat expected. Number three, though, is an oops baby.  We weren't trying. In fact, we were actively trying not to get pregnant.

On December 10, I took a pregnancy test feeling foolish for even taking it, certain I couldn't possibly be pregnant. However, I couldn't ignore the little voice in my head saying, "Are you sure?" When I saw the result, I immediately started shaking from head to toe.  Happiness kept trying to creep into my emotions, but I was much too overwhelmed with shock to allow it any residence. So I did what any girl in total shock should do; I called my mother. In tears, I told her what had just happened. She laughed hysterically. It sort of put things in perspective. Oh yeah, babies are good things.

So I spent the rest of my afternoon frantically trying to put everything in our house and our life in perfect order so that the shocking news could be delivered with as much peace and tranquility as possible. By the time 5:00 rolled around, our house was immaculately clean, a hot dinner was on the table, I had a new budget plan typed and ready, and I had research printed out for different doctor/midwife options we could use for this pregnancy.

By what I am convinced was the grace of God, Shepherd and Lydia were cheerful and well behaved the entire evening. By the time we put them to bed, I was prepared to tell BJ. So I took my stack of research into our very clean bedroom, sat down on our neatly made-up bed, and told BJ I needed to talk to him for a minute. He took one look at me and said, "You're pregnant, aren't you?"

The next morning, BJ crawled out of bed and trudged into the kitchen in his characteristic surly-morning mood. I paused my breakfast preparations, looked up at him, and asked, "Well, how are you doing this morning?" Perhaps it is because BJ gets paid to be profound on a weekly basis, but in that moment, he said the exact thing I needed to hear as I sat in my personal little boat, rocking from terrified to happy and back again. He didn't say "I'm so happy" or "I'm so ready for number 3" or "This was the best news ever." Instead, he gave an answer as honest and to-the-point as I have come to expect from him: "I'm not happy about it yet, but I'm grateful." And we are.

Sundays at the First Christian Church of Ardmore

I'm usually so good about blogging once a week, but the holiday season got me horribly off my schedule the past few weeks.  I still haven't caught up on house chores and getting the kids back into a somewhat normal schedule. Also, there is the nausea and fatigue of growing a new baby, but I'll save that for a blog post later this week :).

For now, I just want to take a moment to list my favorite things about Sundays:

1. My teen class. About seven months ago, I started teaching the teen class at our church. I was a bit intimidated by the challenge, but I decided to jump in a give it a try. What I didn't expect was that I would fall in love with my girls. It was supposed to be a three month stretch, but obviously, I haven't felt compelled to stop yet.

2. Hearing Rev. BJ Gensic preach. I know I'm biased, but he really does always deliver a great sermon. And he isn't the type of preacher you zone out on while listening.  I'm always glued to the message from beginning to end.

3. Taking the Eucharist. When I have to miss a Sunday morning service for whatever reason, I always miss having this meal with my family. And yes, my church is family to me.

4. Watching Shepherd eat his donut before class. He always sits at the men's table in the parlor with several men ages 50 and over.

5. Smelling Lydia's hair for the rest of the day after church. She always smells like the perfumes of all the ladies who held her that morning.

6. Last but not least, singing. We seriously have the best worship leader and accompanists.

Gearing up for Christmas

Like everyone else, we've been super busy getting ready for Christmas.  Here are some pictures from the past couple of weeks to get my blog caught up!

We've been dressing festively...

...and doing art projects to decorate the house...

...and going to the park during the brief spells of decent weather...

...and caroling...

...and dressing in our very best for the Sunday before Christmas.

 

Now, we are really, really, really ready for Christmas! That pretty much sums up everything!

Happiness is...

...throwing portion control to the wind and eating a vat of raisins.

Yes, that is a whole canister of raisins. She carried it around for about 45 minutes munching the entire time.

Happiness, however, is not changing the diaper that came several hour later.

A Thank You Note

Dear Mamm,

Thank you for the Christmas cut-out cookies. Best - Afternoon - Snack - Ever!!!

Love,
Shepherd and Lydia

 

Hair

After a wonderful week in Illinois with BJ's family, me and the kids are taking it pretty easy this week.  The one major outing we've had is going to get Shepherd's hair cut this afternoon.  I decided to get him BJ's haircut: short and spiky.  As you can see, he looks sort of adorable.

Lydia's hair is also pretty cute.  She's rocking the side pony tail. It must just be a good hair day in the Gensic household!

A Letter to My Wonderful Husband

Dear BJ,

I know that you don't like big bows, so for the past 15 months, every bow Lydia has worn has been about the size of my thumb.  However, when I came home from a brief trip to Hobby Lobby this morning, this was in my shopping bag:
 

I'm not sure how it happened.  My memory is a bit blurry on the point.  It is possible that I saw it and in a fit of giggles, bought it.  It is also possible that someone held a gun to my head and made me buy.  In fact, I think that is what happened.  Yes. BJ, someone made me buy.  It isn't my fault.  And the receipt blew away in the parking lot, so I can't take it back.  And if Lydia doesn't wear it, it will be a waste of money, which is unethical.  So, that is how your daughter ended up with a bow the size of a kitten on her head.   Sorry.

Your loving wife,
Kalyn  

The Advocate

Over the past year, I've been reading the Bible with several members from our church.  On Monday nights, about six people join me and BJ to discuss the week's scriptures.  When I first committed to this group, I was terrified of reading my Bible straight through.  I am willing to admit both that I am a fairly typical modern-day liberal and that we modern-day liberals have flaws.  I knew that the Old Testament would offend many of my modern-day liberal sensibilities.  Also, as someone who suffers with anxiety and depression, the gospels have been difficult for me the past few years.  It is very easy for me to see the harshness Jesus directs at the Pharisees as directed towards myself.

I was pleasantly surprised to find that I loved the Old Testament.  When put within a broader context, the aspects of the Old Testament that had always troubled me made more sense.  I was hoping that my fear of reading the gospels would also be unfounded, but as I trudged through Matthew, Mark, and Luke, I was having a really had time connecting with much of anything.  It wasn't until John that I finally had an ah-ha moment that made me fall in love with the Word of God.

I have always read the NIV, but this year, I am using the NRSV.  In the NIV, the Holy Spirit in John is referred to as the Comforter.  This was continually problematic for me as someone with an anxiety disorder.  If I'm having a bad day where my amygdala is shooting like fireworks on the Fourth of July, how could it possibly be that I have a Comforter within me? 

The NRSV doesn't use the word Comforter.  Instead, the Holy Spirit in John is referred to as the Advocate.  This I can grasp.  There is a part of the Holy Trinity that is specifically recognizing the good in all of us in whom he dwells.  This part of God can live inside of my brokenness and see how in the midst of a misfiring amygdala, I am someone who desperately wants to believe.  When you are living with anxiety problems, being comforted often seems out of reach.  How do you comfort someone who at the moment cannot see reason? But when those moments happen when I don't feel comforted by the seemingly elusive Holy Spirit within me, it is nice to know that that same Holy Spirit is advocating on my behalf.       

BJ and I are going to try to get a new group of people to read the Bible with us next year.  I know this makes me sound like an old-fogey preacher's wife, but, people, you need to read your Bibles. And preferably, the Bible should be read within a community.  You never know what it might teach you to help you get through a particular moment. I've decided to commit to re-reading John multiple times this coming year.  It is only natural that different books are going to speak more loudly to different people, and at this time in my life, John seems to be that book. 

A Reward

My mom has spent the last three weeks studying hours and hours for an exam to get her insurance license.  Today, she passed!  So as a reward, here, Mom, are some cute pictures of your grandbabies!  I know that is what she wants more than anything. Love you!

Eleven O'Clock

Eleven o'clock in the morning is Shepherd's art time and Lydia's lunch time.  Here are some pictures that demonstrates why I shouldn't let them participate in these activities too close together.

When I got back from switching a load of laundry, Lydia was painted black, her cheese was painted blue, and Shepherd was sharing her green beans and quite possibly helping her put them in her hair.  For the record, he didn't get any new pieces on the art wall with these techniques.

Weekend Conversations with Shepherd

While sitting on the couch...
Me (pretending to sniff his feet):  Whoa! Those are some stinky feet.
Shepherd: They are not stinky.  They are just tasty.  They are tasty and good.

While cuddling in his bed...
Me: Shepherd I just love your nose.
Shepherd: I love your nose, too.  It has boogers in it.  Why don't you get them out.

While using a public potty...
Shepherd: Why are you holding my hands, Mama?
Me: So that you don't fall in.
(After he finishes)
Me: Now I have to peepee in the potty.
Shepherd: Okay, Mama.  I'll hold your hands so you don't fall in.