Beautiful Boy

My little man just had his first haircut! Just a few snips here and there - still got the curls - just a little trimmed up. Survey: Did you keep a lock of your children’s hair? And why? Just wondering….

Redemption Trash

Bowling Green has this great week, twice a year, when the college kids come to town and when they leave, called: Big Trash. For a week around the city you are allowed to put out whatever kind of trash you have - from the biggest to the biggerest.  And then you’ve the got “those crazy people” who go around like vultures hovering over the houses that we know will yield a bounty of exciting possibilities. My friend Sandy and I like to bring home all kinds of potential gems.

Our husbands refer to them as Orphan Trash or The Furniture Hospital as we then take on projects.

“This one just needs some new hardware.”
“Just a paint job for this table.”
“Missing a leg for this wicker chair? That’s nothing…white duct tape is all it needs.”

Every now and then you come across a piece that needs no work - only love. This is what I like to call Redemption Trash. This table just needed to find it’s place in this world. Don’t we all? Right at the bottom of my steps. Pulled fresh out of my neighbor’s trash across the street and down a block. Perfect. I would say at this point - 50% of my house has been furnished by those who were left out in the cold.

4 Steps….

Well - I haven’t blogged in a while. The BGSU students are heading back to campus and our ministry and staff team are starting up again. I love the smell of Fall. It’s not here yet but it’s coming. And what is also coming is Robby’s walking skills! He has taken 4 steps and shuffles a long one handedly through the day. Especially if his milk is in hand….

NYC successful…sort of.

We definitly enjoyed our tour de Manhattan with Marco. We ate at a fabulous restaurant just 4 minutes (walking) away from his place called Oust (West) Friday night. I had sturgeon for the first time. Yummy. We then woke up and jogged in Central Park around the Jackie O Reservoir. After walking back and picking up a free beach towel that they were giving away in the Park, we headed to brunch at as sweet little cafe complete with chocolate chip pancakes and omeletes. We made our way around Central Park, Times Square in search of a certain guitar playing cowboy (to no avail) and a good deal of the Upper West side. We ate infamous Magnolia cupcakes (which I think the frosting was too sugary) and finished our evening at a Spanish restaurant with paella all around. Not as good as Nester’s, but it will do.  What was most interesting was the amount of babies and children we saw in Marco’s neighborhood. Apparently it is comparable to a typical suburbia area. It was pretty lovely to say the least.   

Robby on the other hand was having a hay-day charming the pants off of his grandparents. He laughed, he cried and he babbled their ears off with his official sounding and very important jargon around their house. They showed him off to neighbors and friends. They wore him out in various pools and parks. He slept soundly and enjoyed his stay. Thanks for praying if you did.  

Now here comes the “sort of” in our success criteria. We were meant to leave NYC at 5:50pm on a flight out of LaGuardia (which, if I may say, is a garbage of an airport) Sunday night and the flight was cancelled.  

Cancelled.  

Real nice talk. So we had to stay another night in the city while my parents had to bring him back to our house and I asked a few friends to take Robby Shifts during the day on Monday. I had to farm out my son for goodness sake. I was sure I was coming home to a sulking, depressed baby. He will hate me forever. He will feel abandoned and unloved. He will be scarred. Untrue. Let’s talk about our greeting when we got back: a big smile, a sweet hug, and then immediate play back to the truck at hand. No jumping up and down. No crying. No longer than 30 seconds embrace. All is well, mom. Piece of cake. What’s your deal? I really do love this age. It does sometimes seem like they have the memory of a goldfish. No offense, Robby,  I love you all the same. Here’s some street performers as they busted a move or two.Magnolia cupcakes….yummy.Anthropoligies are just part of our fun when the 3 of us are together.

NYC and the Grandparents

We are off to celebrate our 7 year anniversary (it was in May, but, you know) with our friend Marco in New York City. He lives in Manhattan and enjoys the city life. We’ve been before and so the possible adventures ahead are always fun. 

However, we are leaving Robby for the first time with Mimi and Grandpa. For 3 days!!! Will he walk while we are gone? Will he still remember me? Will he cry all night? Will he be mischevious? A little of each, I’m sure. 

I got some great advice from a dear friend: you will miss him more than you anticipate; you won’t get as much done as you expected. Well, there is not much to “accomplish” in NYC but to enjoy friends and good food, but I know exactly what she means. It’s about my heart in everything. If you think of it, you can pray that Robby and my parents bond fantastically.   

Here’s a recent play area Robby has chosen…  

Ho hum.

I took an Everyday Spirituality class a few summers back and it has come up a lot since being a mostly stay at home mom. I thought I would share my thoughts about the mundane daily stuff of life….. 

{Musings from my class on The Theology of Every Day Spirituality}

Ho hum.

I just got finished doing another load of laundry. Before that I changed yet another stinky diaper. And after I did that, I cleaned up the dishes from last night’s dinner and wiped off the counter tops and added food scraps to my compost pile. Then I swept the floor because the lavender that is drying in my doorway tends to fall off when Rob’s head hits it as he goes upstairs. Rob was heading upstairs to our office studio so he could pay the bills and then balance the checkbook. Next we’ll punch in our receipts for the week.

Ho hum. Daily life. Unending chores. The boring stuff of life that I need to maintain that never ends. Wiping bums. Chopping fruit for lunch for my son. Putting away all the toys after every nap. That’s at least 3 clean-ups a day. Doesn’t it seem that daily life gets in the way from doing really spiritual things?

I used to say an emphatic “yes!” to that question.

But I have learned and am learning that daily life is spiritual.  There is no separation of the sacred and the secular. God is a worker and has always been working. When we do those “mundane” chores and that continual cleaning up of our homes and yards - our patch of earth - we are operating as co-workers with God.

Let me encourage you. God as Worker is a Sustainer. Much like a Homemaker, one in Organizational work, Administrative work, Service roles and Politics. 

God is a Creator. Much like one in Business, Art, Music, Entrepreneurship, Information Technology, Graphic Design.

God is a Redeemer. Like one in Medicine, Law, Counseling, Pastoring and Technicians. 

And He is much more as a Worker.

So, that receptionist position you have is spiritual and worthy and good. That landscaping job - it is in His image as Creator and Sustainer. Cleaning, doing laundry and emptying the dishwasher - those never-ending daily tasks - those are Sustainer and Maintainer activities. Those are in His Image. Those are an act of worship to Him. Co-creating with God that is good and God-imaging.

This is true and right and not just God-talk.  Daily life is spiritual. Spirituality is found as I fold my husband’s clothing and clean up after my son.

That’s refreshing for me…and good for my soul that can think these things do not matter and keep me from doing truly spiritual work.  Good job, mothers. Wonderful work. Your daily care-taking activities are equally spiritual to praying or freeing people from the slave trade industry or other noble causes.  How refreshing.

I’m off to design and create dinner!

So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.  - 1 Corinthians 10:31

As I am staying mostly at home….I get to see sweet moments like this with Robby and Sophia as they look like they are sharing a secret:

Yellow….

Watermelon, again. Sorry. Am I really writing 3 posts on this subject? We just willfully bought our own yellow watermelon. Right here in Bowling Green. At the grocery store. There was a whole bin of them. And I might, just might, like them better. I think I like them because they are kinda trippy. Close your eyes and take a bite. Reddish pink tasting watermelon. Open them: poof! It’s yellow. Trippy. 

Yellow Watermelon Wikipediad

I Wikipediad it. Yes, it’s a verb.

Watermelon with yellow flesh

• Yellow Watermelon: variety of watermelon that has a yellow colored flesh. This particular type of watermelon has been described as “sweeter” and more “honey” flavored than the more popular red flesh watermelon.^[9]

• Orangeglo: This variety has a very sweet orange pulp, and is a large oblong fruit weighing 9-14kg (20-30 pounds). It has a light green rind with jagged dark green stripes. It takes about 90-100 days from planting to harvest.^[10]

• The Moon and Stars variety of watermelon has been around since at least the 1930s.^{[citation needed]} The rind is purple/black and has many small yellow circles (stars) and one or two large yellow circles (moon). The melon weighs 9-23kg (20-50 pounds).^[11] The flesh is pink or red and has brown seeds. The foliage is also spotted. The time from planting to harvest is about 90 days.^[12]

• Cream of Saskatchewan: This variety consists of small round fruits, around 25cm (10 inches) in diameter. It has a quite thin, light green with dark green striped rind, with sweet white flesh and black seeds. It can grow well in cool climates. It was originally brought to Saskatchewan,Canada by Russian immigrants. These melons take 80-85 days from planting to harvest.^[13]

Yellow, White and Blue?

Have you ever seen a yellow watermelon? Me neither. 

Radioactive? That was our guess. But we ate it all the same this past 4th of July down in Cincinnati. Mmmmm…..yummy. It was honey-ish and sweet and good.

But the whole time I kept commenting to my in-laws: “Ok, seriously, why is this yellow? What happened to the red watermelon? Is anyone questioning this besides me? Is anyone concerned? Should I be feeding this to my son? Are we all going to die?”

And they just kept munching. 

So I conceded and gave some to Robby and he loved it. Alrighty, then. We were in Cinci for the weekend as Rob, T, Michael and his dad tackled one of the side decks. Pretty bad shape, I was told. They redid two walls, slathered new tar (or “frosting”) down and then a new roof to prepare for new deck boards. I visited with my sister who graciously took me and Robby and her baby Keira out to Breakfast. Can you say strawberry sauce? That was good. Thanks, Hol, you’re the best. I liked chilaxin’ with you and yours this weekend. It was a rather low key 4th.

Did Robby lean into this one for the camera? Yes, he did. 
    

True confessions…

I love being a mom. I love his giggle. And his toes. And his little bum. And his recent wave-to-everything-inanimate gesture. His love of books and sitting in our laps for long periods of time. His singing……..I really cannot list it all. 

But sometimes, in the quiet of the morning, in the dead of summer, when I am used to a hustling, bustling school year of college students in and out of my home, being on and off campus, in and out and here and there…….sometimes I get a little bored being a stay at home mom.   

(huge gasps! faces of dismay! judgement!) 

Actually, I am sure none of the above happened if you are a mom. There are just days, weeks, times, moments where staying at home is not that exciting or adventurous. You are just doing your mom routine. In the groove. Cut up small chunks of food. Get fresh milk. Change a diaper here. Prevent him from falling down stairs. Patty cake. Teach him to know where his head is. Clean up the mess below his high chair. Read some books. Down for a nap…..you know the drill. 

No one likes their job ALL the time, my husband reminds me. I know, I know. But somehow it feels un-virtuous to admit. Let alone say out loud. Let alone post on your blog. But I did it. No shame here. Sometimes it just is.

Here’s to you, silent mom, who has felt like her day drags on and does not really matter. You can admit it, it’s ok. We both know those days are few and far between and that mother-love overpowers so much. And we both know that these small things do matter. That raising a little person who will shape our world is a worthy, noble and beautiful calling…..that maintaining and sustaining a little world for this person is in the very image of God.