Archive for August, 2006
In light of all the recent soul-searching that has been occurring by people whose blogs are far worthier than my own, I have decided to jump on the band-wagon. I have dug deep and the following is what I have come up with. Some of it has not been easy. Some of it may offend you. Some of it I will overcome and some I will live with for the rest of my days.
* I don’t know how to use chopsticks.
* I think egg noodles taste like cardboard no matter what is on them.
* My favorite movies are the ones with subtitles.
* There are certain numbers that I always associate with letters and colors. For example, the number 8, the letter A and the color red always go together.
* I grind my teeth when I’m sleeping. I’ve actually broken a couple teeth this way.
* I like chocolate to be so bitter that I can feel it burning all the way down to my stomach.
* I love to do laundry. I obsessively smell each item of freshly laundered clothing as I am folding it.
* I have no athletic ability. I am afraid of balls flying at my head. Almost all athletics involve balls flying at my head.
* I like to talk baby talk to my dog. ‘im is a dood boy, yet ‘im id, yet ‘im id.
* My favorite instrument to play is air drums.
* My whole life I thought that I hated the smell of vanilla, but I’ve recently realized that I really like it a lot.
* I think a really cool job to have would be a lie-detector-test-giver. You could ask all sorts of intimidating questions with a monotone voice and show absolutely no reaction whatsoever to the person’s answer.
As has been stated before by others far more eloquent than myself – I have not arrived. I am on a journey. This journey has many twists and turns that I cannot foresee from where I sit. I may add to this list later. I may subtract from it. Please don’t judge me for it.
Tonight, while driving home from visiting a friend, Chris’ MP3 player was providing the music, like always. (I’m not bitter, really) (I mean, technically it’s my MP3 player, since I bought it from him off of ebay when the bidding didn’t go high enough, but that’s another story for another post) Anyway, as we’re sailing along down Gus Thomasson, Moon River comes crooning over the speakers in our brand-new-car-that-just-got-out-
and-now-it-needs-to-go-back-in. Yes, Moon River by Andy Williams. We’re after the same rainbow’s end, waiting ‘round the bend, my huckleberry friend….. Chris made the comment that out of all the people he knows, he’s probably the only one who actually has Moon River on his MP3 player. I think he’s probably right. So, the challenge is out there. Is there anyone else out there who owns some kind of iPod who also owns that song (and listens to it on a regular basis)? Better yet, can you top it?
My nephew, Seth Joaquin Linebarger, was born last night. His mother is amazing. So is his father, for that matter. I had the honor of being with them for most of the 100 hours of labor. I will always remember the love with which this boy was brought into the world. I’m sure that Matt and Marisela will be posting much more on their own blogs, The Force and Seth’s Life in the days to come, so please check for updates. In the meantime, I have been given permission to post a couple pictures I took here until they have a chance to get to a computer.
I am not exactly what most people would call an optimist. But I realized something about myself today: I like things to be beautiful. I especially like to remember and dwell upon beautiful things. I think that’s why I like photography so much. It captures the fun times of life. Everyday people (journalists excluded) take pictures of celebrations, holidays, happy times and beautiful things. You don’t often see family members taking pictures at funerals, for example, or of people yelling at one another in the middle of a fight. No, for the most part, photo albums in homes everywhere are filled with pictures that remind us of life when it was good. I love to get out my albums or home movies of years past every so often (yes, probably more often than most people) and remember.
Our pastor today was talking about journaling in his sermon. About how it’s good to journal so that we can remember. We write things down that we want to remember. That’s what I realized about myself today. I write things down when they are good or beautiful or funny. Those are the things I want to remember. The problem is that I am not exactly what most people would call an optimist. I’m afraid that I go through many days (sometimes weeks) having nothing to write. In fact, I live my life often on the edge of despair (not a fun place to live). Maybe that’s why I am so deeply moved when the beautiful things happen.
Today, in the same church service where our pastor told us to write things down to remember, we took communion. As the elements were being passed around for us to take and remember what Christ did for us, I focused my eyes on the cross that’s hanging on the wall at the front of our church. I am always struck by the beauty of that cross. I look there often when we’re singing, when we’re praying, when we celebrate, when we mourn. I also couldn’t help but notice my husband, an elder at our church, standing at the end of the aisles, helping to serve the body and blood of Christ to our church that remembers Him. I thought about how handsome he is. It was all very beautiful.
“If I leave here tomorrow
Would you still remember me
For I must be traveling on now
There’s too many places I gotta see”
Well, maybe they don’t feel free, but I sure do.
Today is the last day of summer. It doesn’t matter that it’s 102 degrees outside. And it will be 102 tomorrow and the day after and every day after that for as far as we can see into the future. However, 102 tomorrow will feel different than 102 today feels. Tomorrow it will no longer be summer. Tomorrow is the first day of school. We have come to another milestone in our family. Tomorrow I will have one daughter in first grade, one in fourth and one in sixth. It will be the last year all three of them will be together in elementary school. As of tomorrow, there will be no more sleeping in until noon (Callie), no more turning the house upside-down into an American Girl fantasy world with every nook and cranny of every room serving a different function (Sadie), no more spending all day in dress-up clothes while playing with Barbies, spatulas, and hair brushes, with the spatulas and brushes servings as boyfriends and husbands for all the individual Barbies (Grace). We will not have any more nights driving home after swimming, with all the windows down, the warm outside air acting as a blow-dryer to dry our wet, chlorine-bleached hair. No more sisterly games of Settlers of Catan that last all day and into the next. No more free-for-alls at lunch time, unloading the entire contents of the refrigerator onto the kitchen counter while everyone gets very creative in deciding what they’d like to make themselves for lunch. (Grace has recently decided that sandwiches taste much better when you put the lunch meat on top of the sandwich as well as inside.)
No, tomorrow starts a new life. Tomorrow, we resume the life of backpacks, homework, lunch boxes, daily chores, piano lessons, basketball (eventually), birthday parties, looking forward to holidays, riding bikes after school (after it’s not 102 anymore)… Tomorrow my kids grow up again. I’ll drop them off at school in the morning and cry after I get back in my car, just like I always do on the first day of school. Not because I’m sad. Of course I want my kids to grow up. If they didn’t, something would be terribly wrong. I cry because I’m so incredibly proud of them. They’ve reached another milestone. They’re growing up.
It’s been a great summer.
While in Colorado, I had one of my dreams come true. I have always wanted to ride the sky coaster over the Royal Gorge with my dad. It was an added bonus that my brother, Robbie, was there to ride it with us. Here’s the video, if you’re interested. (It took a little while to load on my computer, so you might need to be patient while waiting for it.) We are suspended by a cable about 1200 feet over the Arkansas River.