Caity’s Wedding

It was beautiful. The city, the weather, the bride, the company, the ceremony.

And the stuff that was on my tray on the airplane ride home was beautiful too. I could not have been a happier traveler.

In the Being

I’m wearing a sweater, the windows are open, and there is not much light coming in through the windows, even though it’s the middle of the day. The wind chimes on my back patio have been ringing softly all morning. I’ve been spending much time in introspection lately and this day seems to be contributing to greater amounts than usual. Maybe it’s the weather. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve had a quiet morning, all to myself for the first time since last May. Maybe it’s due to having Pilgrim move in with us. Nothing like inviting someone else into the every-dayness of my life to make me view my everyday life with fresh eyes.

I mean, there are all kinds of things I don’t usually think about that I’m suddenly giving a lot of thought to. Like how I like to open cabinets and throw clean dishes in, closing them quickly before anything falls out. Or how I’m mostly an extremely quiet person, prone to outbursts of extreme unquietness. Or how I walk into my family room on a daily basis and think, “I hate those pictures on the wall. I hate them so much I want to rip them down violently and throw them and watch the glass shatter in a million little pieces.”

But I’ve also been in the midst of change over the last year. Change so big that I don’t know how to process it exactly. I do go ahead and process nonetheless. But the problem is that my brain right now feels like a completely soaked sponge. I’ve got so many things going on in there that with all the new stuff being thrown at me, I only have time to just barely register its existence before it rolls right off, dripping down my face and filling up the ever-growing puddle that I’m standing in. Before I know it, I’ll be treading water. What I really need is to take out my brain and give it a good squeeze. A serious, powerful, gut-wrenching, twisted wring. If I could figure out how to do that, I would because I am too full right now. Too too full.

And now September’s almost over and we’re going straight into October, just like I knew we would. Cat gets married this weekend and I’ll be there to celebrate. Yes I will. What a blessing. The girls have so much homework that between Chris and I both helping, we’re barely getting it all done before falling into bed each night. Three research papers due before I go to Cat’s wedding on Friday when none of them have ever written a research paper before. It soaks me. I love my church and I miss my people and I love my God and I grieve my losses and I love good food and I can’t keep up with bills. I’m drenched.

And Sunday night we had a reunion with old friends that meant more to me than I know how to express.

I am blessed by this torrential downpour.

It’s September, Baby!

It sure is September, all right. Mid- September and counting. I can’t believe how my life seems flipped inside outside upside downside every-which-way-but-simple side. But today’s September 15^th and tomorrow will be September 16^th and if past experience proves reliable, I think we’ll probably just keep going from there. I may figure out how this life is meant to be lived and I may not but life will go on whether or not I’m keeping up with it.

And that’s what I know.

The kids are in school now. So am I. Phew. It sure is a lot of work. We had an average of six hours of homework a night last week. I’m wondering if that will lessen any as we get more used to it. It’s so hard! But everybody’s happy. Although Grace did discover that she can’t see the board from the back of the room, so we took her in for an eye exam. Cute little black rimmed, rectangular glasses for her cute little round face coming right up! We’ll get them next week. In the meantime, her teacher’s moving her to the front of the class.

First Day of School

Pilgrim arrives this weekend! Our very own Pilgrim, staying right here in our very own house for a while. She’s pretty cute, so she should fit in well around here. Although I’ve started getting worried that she may prefer her bathroom a little cleaner than my girls usually leave it. We’ve pretty much mastered picking up clothes and emptying the trash, but somehow wet washcloths just seem to multiply in there. And they leave puddles of water that make me have to change socks ten times a day. I’ll try to get that under control before Friday, Pil.

I got an extra burst of energy last night while cleaning the kitchen after making an extra dark, ooey gooey chocolate pudding. Yes, that’s right. I not only washed the dishes, but I cleaned the stove too. The whole top of it. Everything that’s been splattered there from all those ooey gooey things I seem to make on a nightly (yes nightly) basis. So maybe, just maybe, I can keep up with this life after all. Not gonna be shedding any pounds in the process though.

Carlee had her baby on September 7^th.  That lady sure can labor, so I think it was fitting that the baby was born on Labor Day. We could mention that labor actually started Friday night and the baby wasn’t born until Monday morning, but what would be the point of that? 7:07am on the 7^th. Pretty special.

I got there Saturday morning and gave Jacob a bath.

Trying to get the contractions to come a little more regularly, we went to Panera for some bagels...

...and the mall, for some air-conditioned walking...

...and back home to blow up the tub and rest a little. Jacob thought that tub was pretty fun. He ran around in there like a wind-up toy.

Resting didn't seem to be the best thing for those contractions though, so off we went again, in search of more air-conditioned walking space.

Then back home again for Julie to try some aromatherapy and acupressure.

Then we resorted to "When all else fails, try chocolate." I can't say that it made those contractions come any closer than every 20 minutes, but it sure was fun. There was live music and a drunk couple behind Carlee that gazed at one another, singing every lyric to every song.

Marisela and I gazed at each other some too.

Then back home for sleep, which is what made those contractions pick up again. Poor Carlee didn't get much rest.

By 2:30am, they were five minutes apart and things pretty much continued that way, slow and steady throughout all of Sunday.

Jane, the wonderful midwife, came by to check on things.

By 5:30pm on Sunday, we got the most exciting news! Eight centimeters! It called for some serious celebrating in the form of yahooing, spirit sprinkles and high kicks.

Well, Marisela did high kicks anyway.

I more just kind of hurt myself.

And yes, I realize this is turning into the world’s longest blog post. So for the next fourteen hours, I will switch to black and white with minimal commentary:

Welcome to this world, Maya Gabrielle Mejia. We love you so.