The Belle Tower

I come to the blog today to write about a friend of mine. Let's call her "Belle Tower," because that is the moniker she has chosen for herself, the name under which she blogs, and I think it fits her.  She is a tower of strength, ringing out with a message that graces the ears of all who hear it. She has brought so much grace to my life, just by being herself, walking her journey authentically and transparently, and demonstrating a heavy dose of the beauty of obedience, made even more breathtaking as it has emerged from what could have been an unlikely place, if not for the grace of God and a soul strong enough to embrace it.

I met Ms. Tower in a private mommies group on Facebook sometime early in Cam's first year. He was probably about 2-3 months old before I really got active, and when I did she was already there.  Her daughter, dubbed "Fifi," is not quite a year older than Mister Cameron.  Belle is loud, opinionated, and does and says nothing halfway. At first, she scared me- not that I thought she was a scary person, but I didn't see any way she could possibly agree with everything I had to say and I was ree-hee-HEALLY scared of coming up on the bad end of what she had to say because, bless my tender heart, I was quite certain I couldn't take it. I was also quite convinced on several occasions that I had offended her deeply and was not on her list of favorites.  Can't specifically remember any incidents or time frames, but I remember feeling that way and I find it humbling and staggering that we have ended up such kindred spirits.

I never disliked or thought poorly of Belle. I always admired and appreciated her.  She  made me shake my head, but it was never in disapproval, more in wonder.  I WANTED to be her friend, but it appeared we were cut from different cloth.  And we are.  We really are, but our cloth has been sewn together now.

One thing that became abundantly clear early on was that Belle was anti-religion, and if you knew what to look for, it easy to guess that she had been hurt in the church.  I don't remember at what point she actually said that that was what had happened, but she did.   When you picture the stereotypical experience of the girl growing up in the Southern Baptist family, "Be a good girl,"  "Well, that's just what we believe,"  "We don't associate with their kind," etc., that's what Belle grew up with and, Belle being Belle, that didn't quite work for her. She has a heart the size of the ENTIRE Confederacy and then some, a stubborn streak as wide as the Mississippi Delta, a mind sharper than the stinger on a hornet, and the message she was hearing about how one managed to be a "good Christian" did not fit her. So, she did what anyone with a heart like hers would do in those circumstances, she rejected it. And I don't blame her.  If I hadn't had parents who encouraged and welcomed my questions, I'd've probably sloughed it off as well.

But there was a need in Belle. And that's how it started.  I don't remember what she said, what she or others posted or what the responses were, maybe she does, but a dialogue began. She started asking questions, posing arguments (not for the sake of arguing, but she actually wanted to hear the responses), and somehow, God put just the right voices in our community to respond to her and gave her just the right ear to sort through them all to find His voice.  The daughter of an Episcopal priest (Episcopalians being held in the highest regard as intellectual, THINKING Christians by yours truly), two preachers' daughters possessed of deep faith and grace and a passion for His love, a deeply-believing Christian whose closest friends have historically been non-believers and so has a passion for the disenfranchised heart (that would be me), and a dozen other Christ-loving women and mothers with kind, KIND, gentle hearts and a desire to share of His love.

Eventually, Belle confessed to us that there was more to her story. She had been abused in the church as a small child, by someone important in her church.  The ultimate betrayal, perpetrated under the banner of God.  It makes me so angry to even type it.  Can you even imagine? Looking back now, seeing what Belle has become, it is plain as day to me that that event was spiritual warfare.  The enemy attacked, wanting to silence this amazing voice before it had a chance to develop. But God is bigger than that, and the enemy way, WAY underestimated the woman that little girl would become.

In the weeks and months that followed our discussions, a warrior emerged in Belle.  She had always been a fighter, but she became a warrior, battling for her own soul and her own truth.  She actively rejected what the voices in the world had told her that she had to be in order to be worthy of God's love and accepted the truth she heard spoken to her.  She felt God's call on her heart and she answered with a vengeance.  She began to find her voice and it became even louder, not gentled or chastened, yet tinged with a deep, deep love and grace.  She was reclaiming what had been taken from her with determination a fierceness that could only come from the soul of Belle Tower. She began to speak of Jesus as hers, as everyone's, and to reject the versions of Jesus that were not Truth to her.  I wish I had taken notes on the progression of things because my breath was taken away repeatedly. The next thing I knew, Belle posted this entry to her blog:

http://fifiandcrazycakes.blogspot.com/2013/12/update.html

I had no words, but lots of tears as my newly-pregnant self sat on the couch at my parents' house at Christmas and read that.  My mom and my aunt and our priest, Janet, were there and so I sent the link to all of them.  My aunt replied

 

"Read Belle's blog.  She truly has a gift, if not a calling.  Anne Lamott says some of us have "cavernous vibrations inside us" when we speak to God. Belle has them when she speaks OF God.  And I love it"

 

How spot-on is that?  I was so humbled by the obedience, the courage...and just hearing God's voice that loudly...Lord, help me if You ever speak that directly, clearly, and deafeningly to me.  Help me not to crumble, because I think I might.

 

I have also watched as Belle has let God soften her.  She's a fireball and she knows it and I have watched as God has asked her to reach out to people who have gotten her fired up and have watched her treat them with respect and love, no matter how mad they still might make her.  I can't say I'm entirely pleased about this, Belle was the yin to my yang and her ability to speak with fire and shoot from the hip with exactly what was on my mind is the reason I've been able to take the so-called "high road" on more than one occasion. Belle said what I WANTED to say, which freed me up to say what I knew I should say.

 

Belle Tower is now unleashed, y'all.  I am reminded of Jesus clearing the temple in Matthew chapter 21, overturning the tables of the moneychangers and reclaiming what once was sacred and making it holy again. And this wasn't a flash in the pan either.  This is not the person who went on a spiritual retreat, came back on fire with the Holy Spirit and then let it fade. Belle is on this journey with all of the stubborn, fierce, Southern fire that God put in her.  She has experienced heartbreak in the meantime as someone whose voice and example were critical to her as this revival occurred turned out to represent everything about "religiousness" she had chosen to reject. And yet she still clung to God, knowing that this one person's take on what it meant to be a Christian did not alter His truth.

 

I consider it one of the great privileges of my life to watch Belle be Belle.   I see God's hand on her all over the place and it is one of the most goshdarned beautiful things I have ever seen. So deeply inspiring. Everything she writes these days stirs me to action. What action I am not sure yet. I have a journey of discernment of my own to take, I have been aware of that for quite some time. But I am inspired to live into God's truth in a new way, and to listen with new ears to that truth.  I feel so blessed to be connected with Belle, it is one of the countless miracles which have emerged from this community we are a part of.

 

I don't feel like I've even begun to do Belle justice here.  I will probably go back and edit this a million times over, adding little details as I think of them- oh, for example! She has such a passion for justice that has been sharpened and focused by her journey of faith. That's another thing.  I could go on and on and on here, but I'm on borrowed time and Mister Snottypants is stirring. He's been so sick, bless his heart. This two-hour nap is the first in days.

 

Thanks for listening.

Where Feet May Fail...Baby #2!

"You call me out upon the waters, the great unknown, where feet may fail..."
-"Oceans (Where Feet May Fail),"  Hillsong United

A lot has happened here since I last blogged. Not "a lot" as in many things, "a lot" as in one big thing.  One big thing that I'm not sure I'm big enough for, but God is. :-)

On November 6th, Jeff and I found out that we are expecting another baby.  Let me begin by saying that there is no "but" coming.  We are 23 weeks along and so far, we have  a totally healthy little one here, the "big thing" about this has nothing to with scary test results and grim prognoses, this is all about my own heart. 

This was ahead of schedule and we actually hadn't even officially made the decision yet that we wanted to be a two-kid family, so my heart was not ready for this news. Having grown up as an only child, the decision to have a second child was huge for me. Both my mom and her sister, my aunt with whom I am very close, chose to only have one child. Getting pregnant, being pregnant, and giving birth has come very easily to all of us (CLEARLY, ha!) and all of our families could have easily supported another child, but my mom and aunt realized it was not in their hearts to have more kids and I was feeling much the same.  Those of us descended from my Neeno throw all that we've got into loving others.  We've all quit our jobs and put our adult lives and careers on hold to raise our kids because we knew our hearts couldn't handle taking time away from our little ones, and that same condition of heart is what motivates the one-child choice. While love multiplies with the births of additional children, time and focus do not. CLEARLY having more than one child, sometimes SEVERAL children, is a valid and wonderful choice because MOST people do it.  I'm not questioning or challenging the validity of that, I'm just saying that that does not appear to be how the women in my family are wired.  My mom and my aunt decided that they were not wired to have more than one child, and I was feeling the same way.  Still am, as it turns out, because I never ACTUALLY made up my mind that I was ready for it.

Unlike with Cam, I did not want to see the word "PREGNANT" on that danged stick.  It wasn't ready for it. I prayed and prayed that the faint line I had seen on the test earlier was a blue dye error.  "Blue dye is notorious for false positives," my friend Shawna told me, and to that I clung. So, I optimistically bought a multi-pack of the digital tests from Wal-Mart, the ones that say "PREGNANT" or "NOT PREGNANT," thinking that when this test was negative, I could use the others in the future. Nope.  Pregnant first try.  I passed on the four remaining tests to a close friend of mine.

I had thought about what I would do if that were the result, and I had assumed I would collapse into sobs of panic.  I assumed I would be devastated by this cataclysmic shit of mind and heart being thrust onto me- plus, I was unexpectedly pregnant. That just does NOT happen when you're me, we plan these things, take all precautions, such things are for other people. Not proper, not proper at all! :-)

But in the minutes, seconds even, that followed the result, a peace came over my heart.  I FELT myself in God's hand as He gently whispered to my heart, "I took this burden from you, my love.  The choice was made for you and I have given you the gift of full confidence that this is not of you, but of Me. Whatever happens, this is MY doing.  I have given you the gift of full assuredness that this is My will for you, for Cam, for Jeff, for your family, and for this child.  I didn't ask you to listen and discern, I'm not asking you to trust, I'm handing this to you."   I felt so loved, because I knew that it was true. I knew that whichever way I decided, if I had made the decision  I always would have questioned it.  I had anticipated it would be a journey of discerning God's will and then living in the trust that I had done well, but He never even asked it of me!  He relieved me of that work, that burden.  His grace astounds me, it's always so perfect, so complete, so tailored to ME, and it's always a better solution than I ever could have thought of or prayed for.

It didn't just end there in an explosion of sunshine and rainbows from heaven.  Shortly thereafter, I started to feel awful and from that stemmed a struggle with attitude and emotions. So nauseous, so tired...much more so than with Cam.  I had my thyroid checked IMMEDIATELY after finding out I was pregnant and my dosage of Synthroid was upped...and then six weeks later upped again...and then again six weeks later...so as it turns out, I wasn't just first trimester sick, my thyroid had dipped REALLY low as well, which is common in early pregnancy for those with low-functioning thyroids. We limped through the holidays, Jeff dragging Cam and me along with him through brute strength of love and sheer willpower.  I've never been so compromised in my ability to do my "job" and Jeff handled it with such grace and strength. I was miserable, my holidays were miserable and I began to feel bitter.  I was resentful that here came another reason for me to put my needs on hold, ruining my life already, and I didn't even WANT a big family.   And boy, did that make me feel even worse. I'm part of a very tight-knit online Mommies' community and many of my sisters in that group are struggling to get pregnant with their second, struggled to get pregnant with their first, lost deeply-wanted babies to miscarriage or still-birth, or have had to accept for medical reasons that they can't have another baby no matter how badly they want one- and here was me, feeling bitter and resentful because I had gotten pregnant without even trying.  And yet there, I was having these feelings.

The new year and the first signs of spring have started to bring relief. First of all, I'm feeling WAY better, and despite a tidbit of lingering nausea and some extra fatigue, I'm feeling like me and can enjoy my life despite being pregnant.  We've been able to make improvements around the house, which has also improved my quality of life.

And also, we had our 20 week anatomy scan and everything looked normal and healthy and...

Our baby is a girl.

That fact alone is just so totally perfect on so many levels. I would have been thrilled to give Cam a brother, Jeff just adores his two younger brothers and I would have loved for Cam to have that experience. But this is more perfect than that.  When we found out that Cam was a boy, it was somehow the most perfect thing in the world, and this feels EXACTLY like that. It fits, it's right,  she's our girl. 

So now both Jeff and I are in uncharted waters.  I grew up an only child, so I have no schema for raising two kids.  Jeff grew up in a family of boys, so he has no schema for raising girls.  I still have a knot in my stomach as I think about those early days of being so focused on her, her taking up so much of my time and me not getting my fill of Cam and him not getting his fill of me- it nags at me.

But the other morning in church, God spoke to me again.  I was onstage in church, singing with the worship team, getting ready to sing the above-mentioned song, "Oceans," by Hillsong, and it hit me like a ton of bricks that THAT song for me is about having a second baby.

http://youtu.be/-8mZpGj29qw

"You call me out upon the waters, the great unknown, where feet may fail."

I've been called to something where my own feet may fail me.  I'm like Peter, standing in the boat in Matthew 14:29, with Jesus asking me to follow him out onto the water and I have no idea how this is supposed to work.  Peter takes his steps, begins to walk, and then as the storm rages around him, he gets distracted and sinks.  This could SO be me.  When baby girl is crying and needs me, Cam is feeling the stress of the change and needs me, my post-partum hormones are raging, I can see myself sinking. 

"And I will call upon your name, and keep my eyes above the waves..."

I need to be committed to NOT doing what Peter did. I need to keep my eyes focused on Jesus and remember that "Your grace abounds in deepest waters,"  God's grace shines the brightest when our challenges are greatest, the bigger the challenge the more grace can be found- both because He gives according to our need AND because we are most attuned to looking for it when we need it most.  I need to remember that, "You've never failed, and you won't start now."

"So I will call upon your name, and keep my eyes above the waves.  When oceans rise, my soul will rest in your embrace, for I am yours and you are mine."

...and of course I am LEADING this song, in front of the whole church, me singing this BY MYSELF two seconds after this realization hits me.  I held it together, but I rushed the tempo and my voice broke twice.  If you knew what to look for, you totally could have seen it.

And that is where we are now.  We haven't picked out a name yet.  Her  middle name will be Audrey after my Neeno, but the first name is still not locked. But she is loved, she has a leg on her and kicks so hard her Daddy can feel it from the outside already!  Cam loves his "Sissoh" already, he knew it was a girl before we did. 

We are ready for this as a family.   Stay tuned.

The MacGyver Express, Halloween 2013!

"Honey!"  I said, "I just got the CUTEST little Engineer's outfit for Cam for Halloween today...but now I have to figure out how to make his wagon look like a train. I'm going to hit Pinterest."

This was something I had been dreading.  I have the artistic talent and vision of a gnat. I had been wrestling with Cam's Halloween costume idea for months, I WANTED to do a train engineer because it would really capture his current interests, but I worried that a) it would not be deemed elaborate enough (by which judge and jury I wasn't exactly sure, but isn't that always the way with motherhood? We always fear the Phantom Jury) and b)  I just knew it wouldn't be complete with out the wagon-as-a-train-engine prop and I didn't trust myself to pull it off. But, I had been praying about it and the ONLY costume in Cam's size I'd been able to find at Wal-Mart that day was A FREAKING TRAIN ENGINEER, so that sealed the deal. And now I had to get artsy. And my stomach was in my throat.

"Psssh, no need!" Jeff said, as I picked up my phone and prepared to open the Pinterest app.  "We have cardboard, zip ties, one-by-twos and a staple gun. Just get me some paint at the store.  I got this." 

"On the next episode of MacGyver..." I quipped, referencing the 1980's TV action hero played by Richard Dean Anderson whose "thing" was fashioning whatever device was needed for the situation from whatever he found lying around.

In truth, however, I was stunned by both his interest and his confidence.  Jeff has never been a fan of Halloween, he's always considered the whole "coming up with a costume" and "decorating" thing a burden, and yet here he was, volunteering to spend hours making a wagon into a choo-choo train.   I also hadn't ever seen him take on a project like this, so I had no idea that he felt so confident in this skillset.  And I also didn't know how confident I could be in his skillset.

In the next moment, however, the epiphany of the significance of what Daddy was offering here hit me: This Daddy wanted to make his son a train engine for Halloween. Cam will be a grown adult some day looking back of pictures of the Halloween when he was 1 1/2 and whether he looks with admiration on a beautiful piece of art attached seamlessly to his wagon or with a chuckle at something resembling a train falling half on and half off of the wagon, he will see in that picture how much his Daddy was excited about his Halloween and wanted to make something special for him.  He will feel hugged in his heart and that is more important than anything.  Pinterest Tribe and my mommy cred be goshdarned, this was happening and I was going to hold Jeff's beer and hand him the zip ties while he got his Daddy on. :-)

Two nights before Halloween, we put Cam to bed and Jeff took to the garage.  Beer in hand, Dave Matthews on the speakers, he measured and planned and cut and stapled and mapped, I painted and ate candy. 

The night before Halloween, most of the paint and glue were dry and the process of attaching the MacGyver Express to the Radio Flyer began.  At one point, the door to the garage opened and the unmistakable odor of REALLY, REALLY HOT HEAT came wafting out.  "Honey, why do you have a blow torch?" I asked suspiciously.  "Don't worry about it," he replied, both dismissive and secretive. 

The result of these efforts was even more adorable than I could have imagined and Cam was delighted.  The whole Halloween thing was a bit rocky, Cam was tired and slightly overwhelmed by the whole thing but he ADORED that train. He and his friend "Coh-tee"  (Colton) were riding in style in his "CHAIN!  CHAIN! CHOOOOOOOOO-CHOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!"

I hope your Halloween had special moments in it like ours did and that you're now geared up and ready for the upcoming holidays!

Hugs,
Tori

The Adventures of Captain Entropy!!!!

Captain Entropy is Cameron's superhero identity and his superpower is creating messes and chaos.  I've started thinking of his destroying and messing as "The Adventures of Captain Entropy."  I will sometimes just take out the camera and snap a picture, just for my own entertainment, because I have to get SOMETHING out of all my effort cleaning up after him, right? 

In a rare moment of attentiveness in a high school science class, I remember hearing entropy being described as the tendency of the universe toward disorder and chaos.  I also remember thinking that this could easily account for the condition of my room and I should really be sure to fill my mom in on that when I got home from school.   It's science, Mom.  Ya don't argue with science.  I'm quite sure that is not how the wicked smart folks who originally defined "entropy" intended the concept to be applied, but that potential application of the term gave me a chuckle at the time, caused me to actually remember something from high school science, and now it's getting me through toddlerhood.

Anyone who currently or ever has had a toddler can relate do the perpetual, thankless job of cleaning up the messes that a toddler creates.  It. Is.  MIND-NUMBING, and the only response is humor...the only response that doesn't result in me ending up in the loony bin, that is!  The chaos and mess that Cameron almost constantly creates threatens my ever-loving sanity.  I have never been a neat and tidy person. I have never been THAT GIRL who says, "OMIGOSH!  I'm like, SO TYPE-A/OCD! Everything has a place in my house and it must be tidy or I, like, go CRAZY!!!" and SECRETLY you know that behind the feigned disgust with herself, she actually takes pride in how tidy her house is.  Picking up, straightening, and organizing are loathsome and burdensome tasks to me, to be avoided at all costs, and Cameron causes me to have to spend more time doing these tasks in a single day than I would do in a week or even a MONTH pre-baby. Some days, I feel like I'm being punished for past dastardly deeds of disorganization. Another piece of learning from school which has stayed with me are the legends in Greek mythology in which folks who are sent to Hades, the underworld, are forced to perform tasks of perpetual failure as punishment for the bad things they did in their life.  The man who has to push a boulder up a hill, only to have it roll down just inches before reaching the peak EVERY SINGLE TIME.  The parched man who lowers his lips to take a drink only to have the water dry up instantly.  That's how life feels sometimes, like I'm CONSTANTLY cleaning up messes that appear seemingly out of NOWHERE as punishment for the messes I created and/or ignored in the past. THAT ONE TASK which gives me no satisfaction is mine for all eternity, MWAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!

 

 It's not just picking up his toys, I was prepared for that.  It's pulling the books off the shelves in the living room. It's dumping out the single sock bin as I'm trying to sort.  And my LEAST favorite of all, picking up random items he finds in other rooms of the house and dropping them in the living room. THE LIVING ROOM!!!  . It's not where our TV is, it's not where his toys are kept. The way our house is set up, you walk in the front door and there is our living room/dining room combo. There are WINDOWS INTO IT FROM THE FRONT PORCH for crying out loud. And yet this, THIS ONE ROOM WHOSE APPEARANCE ACTUALLY MATTERS, is his depository for whatever he's decided to toddle around with.  I'll clean it up during nap time and by the end of the day, it looks like Ariel's collection of random found objects in Disney's "The Little Mermaid." Whosits and whatsits GALORE, if you will.

OK, wait. I was wrong, that's not my least favorite.  My ACTUAL least favorite is when he's all up in my business, making already hated tasks that much more difficult.  For example, putting away his laundry. I can't do it when he's sleeping in his room, so I have to do it when he's awake AND keep him in the room with me so I can make sure he's not killing himself.  So, he pulls things off of hangers almost faster than I can hang them up.  He takes ALLTHEBOOKS out of his book bin.  He pulls ALLTHETOYS out of his toy bin.  And then when I'm done putting away his laundry, I go behind him and pick it all up.  He, of course, goes behind me and takes it out again and around and around we go until eventually, I get it all put away quickly enough that he doesn't have time to take it out again.  And don't even get me STARTED on the dishwasher.  That's an unmitigated disaster and I have been known to enlist them help of Elmo and Thomas the Tank Engine to get that done with no interference.

 

People say all the time, "As moms, we need to let our messes go." And they're right, and I do. What we are talking about here is on top of and above all of that.  You can only "let it go" for so long. And I'm also getting wise.  I've GREATLY pared down the number of books in the book bin in his room and completely removed the toy bin. Less to destroy means less to clean up.  We are also baby-proofing a lot of stuff, but we've hit some speed bumps there (our drawer latches keep falling off) and Jeff doesn't exactly come home from work SUPER EXCITED about trying AGAIN to fix THE SAME DANGED DRAWER.  I think he might be more excited about it if he were the one picking up the measuring spoons from the living room floor for the third time today- oops, did I say that out loud?  Hee hee hee. You get it though, right?

 

 Cam's also getting pretty close to that stage where he'll be able to help me with picking stuff up. Right now, he's still in the phase were he sees the purpose of setting anything up or putting anything away making it so you can of destroy it again.  Immediately. However, I think we are getting close and I'm looking forward to that time because actually using pick-up time to TEACH HIM SOMETHING will make it feel more like a step in the right direction and less like throwing deck chairs off of a sinking ship.

 

As in all aspects of life, humor and perspective are two of the best ways to get through parenting challenges.  In this situation, the perspective part for me is looking at this tendency toward disorder and chaos as the manifestation of how he processes the world.  He learns by doing right now.  He is fascinated by how stuff works and he wants to do for himself what he sees other people doing.

 

Why are my jammies hanging all together over there, what are they hanging on?  If I pull on them will they come down?  Hey, that was fun!  Let's do another one!!!

or

Why is mommy putting those shiny things in the big noisy silver machine with the racks?  Lemme take all the spoons out and see what she's doing with them...

 

 He also enjoys seeing his impact on things.  How the water splashes when he hits it, how the books are all off the shelves now that he's pulled them out.

 

Look, I can pull down ALLTHEBOOKS!  They are no longer on the shelves, AND I DID IT! ME!  I MOVED THEM ALL!!!!  Let's go find something else to move around!!!

 

Also, his interest in carrying objects around is a continuation of something he started when he was still crawling. Even then, he would pick up an object and examine it and then pack it around with him like our Yorkie used to do with a toy he liked. Except instead of carrying it in his mouth, he'd have it in one hand when he was crawling.  The result is that if the object was hard, it would tap on our laminate flooring and he'd sound like a peg-leg pirate crawling around, "Thump-click, thump-click." Same thing now, he explores an object and then rather than leave it, he carries it with him until he finds the next object of interest, at which time he drops it...somehow always in the living room. ALWAYS!

 

Perspective, thinking about WHY it's happening and what is says about where he is developmentally and about his personality, does help. But humor is necessary as well...enter CAPTAIN ENTROPY (dun-duh-duh-DUNNNNNNNNNNN)!!!

 

 

Around others, he is mild-mannered, easy-going toddler Mister Cameron.  When company leaves, however, he becomes CAPTAIN ENROPY (dun duh-duh DUNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!) PURVEYOR OF CHAOS AND CREATOR OF MESSES, PERPETUATOR OF THE UNIVERSE'S TENDENCY TOWARD DISORDER!  Faster than a cleaning Mommy, able to destroy entire bookshelves in a single motion of his pudgy wittle arm, toddling to the living room with the most random objects imaginable.

 

So, I leave you with this.  A few recent snapshots of The Adventures of Captain Entropy.  Who, fortunately for all of us, has the additional superpower of being ridiculously adorable.

DUCKS!!! (I mean, MERGANSERS!!!!)



 

The pond behind our house has a regular crew of ducks and geese who make their homes therein.  A bunch of mallards, a pair of ducks I've not successfully identified yet, a flock of grey (and noisy!) barnyard geese, and the occasional flight of Canada Geese will settle in on their way north or south.  Today, I spotted flashes of white that I didn't recognize, and it turned out to be these little buggers! I have no idea what they are, anyone know?  I feel so blessed to have THIS in my backyard!

 

Update:  They apparently are Hooded Mergansers.

 

Remodeling

So...I may or may not have mentioned that we moved. Like, seven months ago now. I know, I know, I promised to get better about updating. We had a happy three and a half years in Jeff's bachelor pad condo and we made it work, but it wasn't going to work for us long term and we knew we needed to get out.  We'd been busily paying down and saving up for the first three years of our marriage, praying and wondering about exactly how the logistics of getting into a house while still having a condo under water were going to work out. We figured the Lord had a plan, and indeed He did.  What we got surpassed our expectations: 2,300 square feet, three bedrooms, 2.5 bath, finished daylight basement, large lot that backs to a green space WITH A DUCK POND, huge deck, epic storage, dead-end cul-de-sac (as in one end of our street is a dead end and the other is a cul-de-sac, traffic is minimal), full view of Cam's future elementary school, room to add on and grow should we decide to make it our forever house.

 

 

Ain't it purdy? It really is absolutely amazing and we are beyond thrilled.  However, all of this awesomeness does come with a catch, at least it did on our budget.  :-)   The house hadn't been updated since 1978. That's right, nineteen seventy-eight.  The year I was BORN!  The people we bought it from (original owners, how cool is that?) had done all of the big stuff for us: new roof, new windows, new heat pump, and they had redone a bathroom, presumably because the roof had leaked.  And really, they left it immaculate for us, it wasn't AT ALL like they'd let the place go.  It just...needed to be brought into the 21st century.

There was wallpaper:

Carpet in the master bath:

And the kitchen? Oh, the kitchen...

 

 

It featured a dropped ceiling with fluorescent lighting as was all the rage in the year of the my and our house's birth:

 

 

And a floor plan with the cabinets that really closed things off:

Also, all of the tracks from the drawers had come loose from the cabinets, making them "slide" in and out at impossible angles, coating the pots and pans on the shelves of the cabinets below in a layer of sawdust with each open and close. Oy.

We started by ripping off all the wallpaper and painting, and then replaced all the flooring with new carpet and laminate before we even moved in.  Cam was crawling still, not yet walking, and it needed to be done. I will work on putting together some before and after shots of that stuff.

For now, however, I want to focus on the kitchen remodel because it has been the biggest deal!  We had to do it on the cheap. We got screaming deals on our appliances at Best Buy right when we bought the house. Then, Jeff did all the demo and prep work himself: drywall, lighting, plumbing, finishing, the works. For the cabinets and countertops, we got them at Beaverton Kitchen Cabinets.  They buy in bulk so while there aren't tons of choices and the cabinets aren't custom, it does keep the cost down.

First, we tore out the cabinets.  Then, Jeff and his parents spent a whole day tearing out the false ceiling that was put in place to accommodate the fluorescent lighting.  I think they spent half the day vacuuming up cellulose insulation! Jeff was relieved to discover that, just as our amazing home inspector had said, there were actually ceiling beams up about 8 inches from where the dropped ceiling had been, just waiting for us to sheetrock.   It would have been a lot more work if he'd had to put those beams in place.  Here is what it looked like with the cabinets gone and the false ceiling ripped out:

 

 

Next, Jeff Sheetrocked the ceiling and installed the can lights.  After it was taped and mudded, I did my part of the job which was to texture the ceiling.  Feast your eyes:

 

Then, he replaced the old sheetrock and taped and mudded, I painted, and at long last, we were ready for the cabinets!

The next day was SO exciting!  The installers from Beaverton Kitchen Cabinets did it all IN ONE DAY!  Cabinets, countertops, and hardware!!! It was amazing to watch it take shape.

 

 

 

 

 

Here are close-ups of what the cabinets and countertops look like:

 

 

 



And here, drumroll please, is the FINISHED PRODUCT a few days later after Jeff had re-installed the appliances in their new homes, put in the pendant lights, and gotten MOST of the floor in (we had FIVE boxes of bad laminate!  GAH!!!)

He has finished the flooring since then and within the next couple of weeks he will finish the trim and the backsplash and then I can share a REAL after pic!

***PHEW*** That was a lot of work, both to do it AND to blog it! Just taking this walk down memory lane has stressed me out, I'm so glad it's done!

Lots more left to do, we still do not have anything except a toilet in our Master Bath, the next wave of renovations will have to wait until after the first of the year.  If you've stuck with me and read all of this, pat yourself on the back...and buy my husband a six-pack of microbrew, would you?  He worked hard to make this a reality for us!
 

19 Months

Cam is 19 months now and is walking, talking, counting (kind of), saying letters, dancing, and all kinds of stuff that delights us on a daily basis. He knows "Mickey," "Elmo," and "Tom!" (Thomas the Tank Engine) and can spot them from across the room. :-) It seems like every day he does something new that amazes us because it's something he sure couldn't do yesterday! We are loving this age. 

There are downsides, too, of course. He's currently on a "please" strike, just flat out refusing to use it even though he's been using it for months. He's also in that phase where he doesn't get it yet about being patient and when something he wants doesn't happen instantly (like when he sees me take melon or cheese out of the fridge and it needs to be cut before landing on his tray) there is whining and squeaking. But, this too shall pass and the positives definitely FAR outweigh the challenges.

He delights others as well. This week he was in child care twice, once at MOPS and once at church, and both times when I picked him up the workers in the child care room commented on how happy and easy going and "good" he was. They may say that to all the parents, but it sure is nice to hear :-)

Here is a recent anecdote:

Mister Cameron Goes to Costco

A few weeks ago, we went to Costco in the morning (in the morning before nap is when we usually run our errands). Before we left, I put shoes and socks on his feet and by the time we got there he was, of course, completely barefoot.

"Cameron Lauren!" I said, feigning scolding, "What did you take off of your feet?"

Cam grinned from ear to ear and replied, "SHOOSH!"

"Not just your shoes, silly boy, what else did you take off?"

"SHOCK!" He declared proudly.

So, I gathered his "shoosh" and "shock," which were strewn haphazardly about the backseat, put them on his feet, and off we went into Costco.

About five or ten minutes into our shopping, we were strolling by the aisle where they had their Christmas decorations displayed. Cam had been looking around the store, taking it all in and commenting on the occasional item of interest, but generally nonplussed by the usual array of Costco merchandise. That was until he saw the Christmas decor. His eyes got big,he drew in breath and squeaked (he does have a high-pitched little voice that elevates to a squeak when excited), "CHEESH!!! CHEESH!!! WAH!" (Trees, trees, wow!) "WAH!!! COO!" (Wow, cool!)

So, I strolled him on over in the cart and rolled him up and down as his dinner plate-sized eyes took it all in. I watched the wheels turn as he processed it. "CAH! MOOOOO!" He declared, pointing to the lighted reindeer that he clearly thought was a cow.

There was a lighted Mickey and Minnie climbing into a chimney. He hadn't seen those characters much at this point, so I told him their names "MEEK! MEEN!" He repeated excitedly.

We wheeled back down the aisle again with him pointing out the trees all the way, just in case I missed them, "CHEESH! WAH! WAAAAAH! COO!" And then we headed for the exit.

We walked away toward the check-out lines and while other displays we past grabbed his attention, he was clearly still thinking of the fascinating things he'd just seen because he said "MEEK! CAH! BAH!" And waved goodbye to Mickey and the cow, which I do promise to one day teach him is actually a reindeer.

Here are some recent pics: