Friday Favorites: Potato Leek Soup
check it out at food love... Oh, yum.
November 17, 2006
November 16, 2006
This week's firsts (I'm assuming that 99% of my readers are either female or my dad, so if you're not, disregard this)
1. First time I looked down in the shower and couldn't see my feet.
2. First time I peed when I sneezed. (First thought "I can't believe that just happened", second thought, "So that's what those Kegel excercises are for...")
1. First time I looked down in the shower and couldn't see my feet.
2. First time I peed when I sneezed. (First thought "I can't believe that just happened", second thought, "So that's what those Kegel excercises are for...")
Once in a while I get emails from a company called "Restoring Order". It's a professional organizing company run by a Christian woman in Portland. She wrote this blurb in the email and I thought it was OUTSTANDING. So I'm sharing it with you. I hope I don't get in trouble for copying and pasting it here, it can only be good business for her. I love her perspective. I heard her speak one time and it was wonderful. Her website is www.restoringorder.com
Just Wait
In about a week, a little baby boy is on the way to the Norris household.
One thing I've experienced throughout the pregnancy—that has surprised me greatly—is foreboding warnings from perfect strangers. My two least favorite words to hear have been "just wait." Over and over again, unsolicited, I have heard this phrase "just wait," followed by some impending threat.
"Just wait until you're up all night" people have said while wagging their fingers at me. "Just wait until he's running around and into everything" ladies have scolded. The most disturbing statement was the woman who—in all seriousness—looked me in the eye and said "just wait until you lose your identity completely."
These threats are never followed by any resolution or action that can be taken; they just dangle awkwardly in the air. (It's not like you can really do anything about the sleep deprivation that all new mothers face. And what is the alternative to an active child who is "into everything"? An inactive, sluggish one?)
I'm not sure why people feel the need to warn new mothers of the changes about to occur. Are these advice-giving women trying to help others avoid the shock they felt as motherhood arrived? Do they really think that mothers-to-be (which they once were) haven't considered—in trepidation and wonderment, how their lives will be irrevocably changed forever? Is there a deeper warning behind their "just wait's? And, most saddening, why are these warnings almost always negative?
Since I can't figure out the source of these warnings, I have decided to convert "just wait" to my own purposes. For me, "just wait" is going to be a promise of the good things to come.
I tell myself: "just wait" until they place him on my chest as he has just begun breathing air for the first time. "Just wait" until he can feel me, his mother, and be comforted by my voice and my smell. "Just wait" until I can kiss his face and his fingers and his toes and drink in his new baby scent. Trevor and I can barely "just wait" until we can share our little boy's name with our extended family—a delicious secret we've been savoring between the two of us. And I can't hardly "just wait" until he smiles or laughs for the first time.
What will he look like? Will we recognize him as a part of ourselves? Will he inherit our curly hair or will he be bald? What will getting to know him be like? What will his first word be, and which blankie will be his snuggly? At that moment when he takes his first steps one day, we both want to be there, but will we? When he falls one day, will be there to catch him? I guess we'll have to "just wait" to learn all these things and more.
Life can be overwhelming and it's so easy to fall into the pattern of negativity. We all do it. It's easier to warn than encourage. It becomes habit to complain rather than compliment. It's easier to point out faults than strengths. We think the worst rather than the best.
What would life be like if we lived with a spirit of encouragement, thankfulness, and anticipation instead of one of negativity? With Thanksgiving approaching, I want to acknowledge and count my blessings. I hope that you can, too.
Instead of communicating in discouraging ways we can decide to communicate encouragement. Instead of complaining about the rain spattering against the windows, we can be thankful for the roof over our head. Rather than dreading change in life—and I'm about to experience a major one—we can anticipate change with joy. After all, change is proof that we are still ALIVE and granted another chapter in our own book of life.
Those with a light and thankful heart can live with purpose. May these wonderful upcoming seasons bring joy to you and yours,
~Vicki Norris (mother-to-be)
Just Wait
In about a week, a little baby boy is on the way to the Norris household.
One thing I've experienced throughout the pregnancy—that has surprised me greatly—is foreboding warnings from perfect strangers. My two least favorite words to hear have been "just wait." Over and over again, unsolicited, I have heard this phrase "just wait," followed by some impending threat.
"Just wait until you're up all night" people have said while wagging their fingers at me. "Just wait until he's running around and into everything" ladies have scolded. The most disturbing statement was the woman who—in all seriousness—looked me in the eye and said "just wait until you lose your identity completely."
These threats are never followed by any resolution or action that can be taken; they just dangle awkwardly in the air. (It's not like you can really do anything about the sleep deprivation that all new mothers face. And what is the alternative to an active child who is "into everything"? An inactive, sluggish one?)
I'm not sure why people feel the need to warn new mothers of the changes about to occur. Are these advice-giving women trying to help others avoid the shock they felt as motherhood arrived? Do they really think that mothers-to-be (which they once were) haven't considered—in trepidation and wonderment, how their lives will be irrevocably changed forever? Is there a deeper warning behind their "just wait's? And, most saddening, why are these warnings almost always negative?
Since I can't figure out the source of these warnings, I have decided to convert "just wait" to my own purposes. For me, "just wait" is going to be a promise of the good things to come.
I tell myself: "just wait" until they place him on my chest as he has just begun breathing air for the first time. "Just wait" until he can feel me, his mother, and be comforted by my voice and my smell. "Just wait" until I can kiss his face and his fingers and his toes and drink in his new baby scent. Trevor and I can barely "just wait" until we can share our little boy's name with our extended family—a delicious secret we've been savoring between the two of us. And I can't hardly "just wait" until he smiles or laughs for the first time.
What will he look like? Will we recognize him as a part of ourselves? Will he inherit our curly hair or will he be bald? What will getting to know him be like? What will his first word be, and which blankie will be his snuggly? At that moment when he takes his first steps one day, we both want to be there, but will we? When he falls one day, will be there to catch him? I guess we'll have to "just wait" to learn all these things and more.
Life can be overwhelming and it's so easy to fall into the pattern of negativity. We all do it. It's easier to warn than encourage. It becomes habit to complain rather than compliment. It's easier to point out faults than strengths. We think the worst rather than the best.
What would life be like if we lived with a spirit of encouragement, thankfulness, and anticipation instead of one of negativity? With Thanksgiving approaching, I want to acknowledge and count my blessings. I hope that you can, too.
Instead of communicating in discouraging ways we can decide to communicate encouragement. Instead of complaining about the rain spattering against the windows, we can be thankful for the roof over our head. Rather than dreading change in life—and I'm about to experience a major one—we can anticipate change with joy. After all, change is proof that we are still ALIVE and granted another chapter in our own book of life.
Those with a light and thankful heart can live with purpose. May these wonderful upcoming seasons bring joy to you and yours,
~Vicki Norris (mother-to-be)
November 15, 2006
November 14, 2006
Wow, I just cannot stop myself today. Here is an article that made me mad. Especially this line,
"We've always known that dads were economically important to kids, but this suggests that the way dads interact may make a difference, especially in dual-earner families."
Heaven help us, have father's roles become purely economic? Of course they make a difference! Every day I thank God for my husband. His impact on our child will be phenomenal! His role is not a matter of money! OK, I feel better now.
"We've always known that dads were economically important to kids, but this suggests that the way dads interact may make a difference, especially in dual-earner families."
Heaven help us, have father's roles become purely economic? Of course they make a difference! Every day I thank God for my husband. His impact on our child will be phenomenal! His role is not a matter of money! OK, I feel better now.
The rain just never ends... Here - read for yourself. It's pretty bad when you have to move branches out of the way just to get to work. Paul and I are particularly miffed because the flooding has damaged and closed (until further notice) our absolute favorite place to snowshoe - Mt. Ranier National Park. And yes, I specifically asked the doc if I could snowshoe. The next storm is supposed to be worse than the last. So if you don't hear from me for a while I've probably drown.
Blustery Days and such...
There was no school yesterday because of a wind and rainstorm that cut power to most of the little community I teach in, but not my house. So I was at the gym, getting ready for the day and I get a message on my cell phone telling me there's no school. My first reaction is "YIPEEE!" My second thought is, "What am I going to do all day?" Now, normally this would not be a problem but it was a three (now four) day weekend and I had been extremely efficient. Paul was not around for me to hang out with and he had taken the computer WITH him (no blogging or obsessing over baby names on the internet?)! I had two choices, watch daytime television or be creative. You mom's are all probably laughing. I know, in just five months I will pray to God to have the problem of nothing to do, but right now, in my childless and efficient state, it was a problem. Don't worry, I am very good at relaxing and soon found myself in an overstuffed chair at Starbucks with a parenting magazine (doing my homework, you see). Then I meandered on home and organized my whole closet, putting all the clothes that no longer fit (which is about half of them) into boxes. Then I started on a knitting project, then I started on another knitting project, then I read, then I made myself the most gormet taco salad you have ever seen. You get the picture. I went over to my mom and dad's just as they were hooking up the generator to their fridge. At this point they'd been without power for sixteen hours.
ME: "Wouldn't it be funny if as soon as you got the fridge working the power came on?"
They didn't think that would be very funny, but you know what happened? About 30 second after they hooked it up the power blinked back on.
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