Thursday, June 30, 2011
farmer's market peonies
I loved that as Bentley pointed to each flower in the bouquets before us I could confidently tell her the name of each one. Dianthus, also called Sweet William... Peony... Nigella, also called Bachelor Buttons... Calendula. It reminded me of the flower farm in little Jeffersonton, Virginia, where I first learned the names of these. We sold them at DC farmer's markets. Wow, this same time, eight years ago, I was cutting peonies and bundling them, with the neighbor's farm dog, Lady, by my side, a flower tucked in my hair and clipper holster on my jeans with 10 acres of cut flowers around me. Dirt, sun, God, creation. I love thinking about all that God has done to refine me since I took that little 3-month Virginia sabbatical with Him eight years ago.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
when Drew cooks...
...we eat well! ha.
homemade fries
Bentley liked eating the red "flowers"
grilled veggies, yum.
homemade fries
Bentley liked eating the red "flowers"
grilled veggies, yum.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
There's no place like home.
We recently broke off the toaster oven timer switch. We swapped it with one of the other dials (Drew's genius). Now I turn my dial to "warm" when I want to toast it for 3 minutes.
When little things like this happen, I being to notice everything; like the drawer handles in the living room and kitchen and bedrooms that are missing and need repairing. Our dining room chair beams are beginning to fall off or the one chair whose base is screwed in by only one single screw. We have bright orange extension cords running from one socket across the living room so that our lamps plug in due to the fact we started replacing our nob and tubing. Oh, and actually, two of those lamps don't even work anymore, they are currently just happy little pieces of living room 'sculpture'.
To top it off, this last week I have spent in a contamination chamber of sorts. Our home has been covered in plastic for 10 days now as Drew is finishing up painting our home. He has been sick since Saturday which has sent the process back several days. I, on the other hand, am like a perfectly healthy chipmunk bouncing off the walls inside my plastic shroud, wondering when I will see the light of day again.
With this new found craziness, I have managed to tear apart the inside of our home ("More??!!??" you say - oh yes, I can't help myself). It has seemed like a good idea to reorganize drawers, redo our kitchen hutch, shampoo the rugs and rearrange our living room, among other things. So here I am, upstairs in my muggy plastic-covered sauna, escaping the genius idea at the time to "deep clean" downstairs.
When I get like this, the Spirit convicts me to remember what I do have: a home. Not just a house, but a home, where my family dwells. Where I get to "come home" to a husband and darling girls. I also know that as this earthly home falls apart or breaks or because of my insane need to clean sometimes actually gets torn apart in the process, that God has already prepared an everlasting home for us. A perfect home. A home with all the handles in place. With no need for extension cords to make things work. It is perfect. I am glad the Spirit uses the imperfect here to point me to the perfect there.
When little things like this happen, I being to notice everything; like the drawer handles in the living room and kitchen and bedrooms that are missing and need repairing. Our dining room chair beams are beginning to fall off or the one chair whose base is screwed in by only one single screw. We have bright orange extension cords running from one socket across the living room so that our lamps plug in due to the fact we started replacing our nob and tubing. Oh, and actually, two of those lamps don't even work anymore, they are currently just happy little pieces of living room 'sculpture'.
To top it off, this last week I have spent in a contamination chamber of sorts. Our home has been covered in plastic for 10 days now as Drew is finishing up painting our home. He has been sick since Saturday which has sent the process back several days. I, on the other hand, am like a perfectly healthy chipmunk bouncing off the walls inside my plastic shroud, wondering when I will see the light of day again.
With this new found craziness, I have managed to tear apart the inside of our home ("More??!!??" you say - oh yes, I can't help myself). It has seemed like a good idea to reorganize drawers, redo our kitchen hutch, shampoo the rugs and rearrange our living room, among other things. So here I am, upstairs in my muggy plastic-covered sauna, escaping the genius idea at the time to "deep clean" downstairs.
When I get like this, the Spirit convicts me to remember what I do have: a home. Not just a house, but a home, where my family dwells. Where I get to "come home" to a husband and darling girls. I also know that as this earthly home falls apart or breaks or because of my insane need to clean sometimes actually gets torn apart in the process, that God has already prepared an everlasting home for us. A perfect home. A home with all the handles in place. With no need for extension cords to make things work. It is perfect. I am glad the Spirit uses the imperfect here to point me to the perfect there.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
ball-o-baby
Emery has a toe fetish. When placed on her back, she immediately curls up and devours her big toes. Bentley will comment on Emery's wet feet. She is also in the 90% percentile for both height and weight. (In size 9-12 month clothing!) And while Bentley used to growl in excitement at this age, Emery squeals with delight! I have tried to catch it on video.
She is giggling now as well and is such a joy! There you go, a bit about the current life of the littlest member of our Webster clan.
Friday, June 10, 2011
miss emery anne, this is your story...
I was able to have some quality time with just Emery today while big sister spent the night at Nana and Papa's house. We took pictures, put our feet in the grass, sang songs and just studied each other. I began thinking about her arrival into the world and it made me want to take this evening to put those currently vivid memories into words.
to my dear Emery Anne,
The day your daddy and I took the test to see if we were indeed pregnant with you, we made it a family affair and invited Bentley along too. Into the bathroom we all went. Together, we saw the two lines that said we could start joyfully expecting you! We turned to Bentley and asked her if she was having a sister or a brother, and she answered with a "Sister! Sister! Sister!"
During the next few months, I craved nothing more than Cherry Coke and bacon. And as our dear friend Karin put it, you began announcing your arrival for months before deciding to come into the world. I was sick up until 25 weeks, developed an inguinal hernia, got a UTI that caused pre-term labor sending me to the hospital and then was put on bed rest - whew!
I could not wait to meet you! But your due date came... and went.
The night before you were born, your daddy and I decided to distract ourselves from the hard, but inconsistent contractions I was having and play Scrabble. I was down to my last seven letters and could spell the word, "born." I was so consumed with meeting you, everything was another sign that you were coming. The contractions continued but I hesitated getting my hopes up that this time was finally the time. By 6am, I was having pretty hard contractions, and gushing water a little, so we called Auntie to come over. I took a shower and by 6:30am, we left for the hospital.
When we arrived, we got a front-row parking spot to the ER and as I stepped out of the car, my water started gushing. Your daddy and I were giggling as I stood there laughing, "more!" each time the water gushed down my jeans. I hobbled into the ER and to our surprise, our friend, John greeted us (he is the brother-in-law of one of our elders, Jeff). I just knew when I saw John that it meant you were coming! Another sign! ha. I wasn't going to be sent home this time. Turns out third time was the charm.
Due to the hernia, I thought I was supposed to get an epidural in case I had to have emergency surgery. But God decided to put many distractions in place that prevented me from being able to get the epidural. There were so many babies born that day that we didn't make it up from the ER intake area until almost 8am. Then they put me into a holding room to check me. I was about 5cm at the time and having hard, but 5 min apart contractions. Grammy showed up at that time. Then they moved me to another room at about 8:30am and were going to start an IV drip for me that had to be running for at least 30 mins. before getting an epidural. I was pretty persistent and verbal to everyone about the fact that I wanted and thought I was supposed to get an epidural. ha. Daddy told our family that once I got the epidural, they could come in the room to say hi... but that plan was about to change.
Just before 9am I was laboring on the bed on all fours, holding on the to the bed frame breathing through contractions, when Valerie, our nurse, genuinely encourages me to not get an epidural, telling me that I am already in the hardest part of the process and doing a great job. She continues to explain that actually, concerning my hernia, it might be good to not have the epidural so that if I felt anything go wrong, I could stop pushing and let someone know. Otherwise, if I had the epidural, I might not feel if there was a problem. Seems logical. Uh... why didn't anyone tell me this before?!?!!!
I pause, my mind races at the thought of going naturally, without drugs, and I look over at your dad.
He looks at me and says excitedly, "We're going to have a baby! She's coming!"
I burst into tears.
Daddy and Valerie look at each other and then ask me if everything is ok. Through tears I say, "I'm just really happy." I had suddenly realized that all the pain was so that I would get to meet you! I felt a surge of strength from God in me and thought, "I'm going to meet her... soon! I can do this!" I knew I could do it. I knew we could do it.
I nodded in agreement and then asked Valerie when I could push. She said to try with the next contraction. It came, I pushed. Woah. Movement. You were coming. And it was intense. And I screamed. A lot. Your daddy was so encouraging though. My right hand held his, my left hand held Valerie's. I stayed on all fours and continued to push. Through the "ring of fire" as my friend Cindy called it, and she wasn't kidding. I must have pushed about eight times. They kept telling me you were crowning, but I kept thinking, "Her head isn't out by NOW?!" ha. Finally, another push and your head was out. Relief. Another push, and I felt like a cow giving birth to a calf! The rest of your little body just slid right out!
I immediately hugged Valerie, then daddy and then...
I met you. They lifted you up and out and immediately placed you on my chest. My precious little brunette daughter. I knew it. I knew all along you were going to be my sweet little dark one; and already sporting a darling double-chin and leg rolls! I was meeting you. And you looked like an Emery to me.
While we got acquainted, daddy went out to tell Nana, Papa, Auntie Adrianne and Grammy the good news. Through tears he told them.
I continued looking at you in amazement, thinking about what we just experienced together. I was grateful to God that He had orchestrated everything just so, allowing me to experience His ways of creation as He created it. No drugs, just you and me. I was grateful that through giving birth to you I got to enter in this process of creation with Him. I still shake my head in amazement thinking about it, and all I can say to people is, "What a trip."
A couple days later you and I went back to the hospital to meet your friend, Gavin, born just three days after you to our friends, Kathy and Alex. While we were there, I had brought a card that the other nurses delivered to Valerie for me. I was so grateful for her kind encouragement to go naturally that allowed me to experience birth this way. To my surprise, Valerie found me after receiving my card and I was able to tell her in person how much that meant to me. We relived that process together. I kept praising God for it all.
Miss Emery Anne, as your birth announcement says, you were "born amidst joyful tears and praises to God." at 9 pounds 3 ounces 22 inches at 9:36am on Tuesday, January 25, 2011 at St. Joseph's Hospital in Tacoma, Washington. We love you little Webster. And we love getting to know you more each day.
to my dear Emery Anne,
The day your daddy and I took the test to see if we were indeed pregnant with you, we made it a family affair and invited Bentley along too. Into the bathroom we all went. Together, we saw the two lines that said we could start joyfully expecting you! We turned to Bentley and asked her if she was having a sister or a brother, and she answered with a "Sister! Sister! Sister!"
During the next few months, I craved nothing more than Cherry Coke and bacon. And as our dear friend Karin put it, you began announcing your arrival for months before deciding to come into the world. I was sick up until 25 weeks, developed an inguinal hernia, got a UTI that caused pre-term labor sending me to the hospital and then was put on bed rest - whew!
I could not wait to meet you! But your due date came... and went.The night before you were born, your daddy and I decided to distract ourselves from the hard, but inconsistent contractions I was having and play Scrabble. I was down to my last seven letters and could spell the word, "born." I was so consumed with meeting you, everything was another sign that you were coming. The contractions continued but I hesitated getting my hopes up that this time was finally the time. By 6am, I was having pretty hard contractions, and gushing water a little, so we called Auntie to come over. I took a shower and by 6:30am, we left for the hospital.
When we arrived, we got a front-row parking spot to the ER and as I stepped out of the car, my water started gushing. Your daddy and I were giggling as I stood there laughing, "more!" each time the water gushed down my jeans. I hobbled into the ER and to our surprise, our friend, John greeted us (he is the brother-in-law of one of our elders, Jeff). I just knew when I saw John that it meant you were coming! Another sign! ha. I wasn't going to be sent home this time. Turns out third time was the charm.
Due to the hernia, I thought I was supposed to get an epidural in case I had to have emergency surgery. But God decided to put many distractions in place that prevented me from being able to get the epidural. There were so many babies born that day that we didn't make it up from the ER intake area until almost 8am. Then they put me into a holding room to check me. I was about 5cm at the time and having hard, but 5 min apart contractions. Grammy showed up at that time. Then they moved me to another room at about 8:30am and were going to start an IV drip for me that had to be running for at least 30 mins. before getting an epidural. I was pretty persistent and verbal to everyone about the fact that I wanted and thought I was supposed to get an epidural. ha. Daddy told our family that once I got the epidural, they could come in the room to say hi... but that plan was about to change.
Just before 9am I was laboring on the bed on all fours, holding on the to the bed frame breathing through contractions, when Valerie, our nurse, genuinely encourages me to not get an epidural, telling me that I am already in the hardest part of the process and doing a great job. She continues to explain that actually, concerning my hernia, it might be good to not have the epidural so that if I felt anything go wrong, I could stop pushing and let someone know. Otherwise, if I had the epidural, I might not feel if there was a problem. Seems logical. Uh... why didn't anyone tell me this before?!?!!!
I pause, my mind races at the thought of going naturally, without drugs, and I look over at your dad.
He looks at me and says excitedly, "We're going to have a baby! She's coming!"
I burst into tears.
Daddy and Valerie look at each other and then ask me if everything is ok. Through tears I say, "I'm just really happy." I had suddenly realized that all the pain was so that I would get to meet you! I felt a surge of strength from God in me and thought, "I'm going to meet her... soon! I can do this!" I knew I could do it. I knew we could do it.
I nodded in agreement and then asked Valerie when I could push. She said to try with the next contraction. It came, I pushed. Woah. Movement. You were coming. And it was intense. And I screamed. A lot. Your daddy was so encouraging though. My right hand held his, my left hand held Valerie's. I stayed on all fours and continued to push. Through the "ring of fire" as my friend Cindy called it, and she wasn't kidding. I must have pushed about eight times. They kept telling me you were crowning, but I kept thinking, "Her head isn't out by NOW?!" ha. Finally, another push and your head was out. Relief. Another push, and I felt like a cow giving birth to a calf! The rest of your little body just slid right out!
I immediately hugged Valerie, then daddy and then...
I met you. They lifted you up and out and immediately placed you on my chest. My precious little brunette daughter. I knew it. I knew all along you were going to be my sweet little dark one; and already sporting a darling double-chin and leg rolls! I was meeting you. And you looked like an Emery to me.
While we got acquainted, daddy went out to tell Nana, Papa, Auntie Adrianne and Grammy the good news. Through tears he told them.I continued looking at you in amazement, thinking about what we just experienced together. I was grateful to God that He had orchestrated everything just so, allowing me to experience His ways of creation as He created it. No drugs, just you and me. I was grateful that through giving birth to you I got to enter in this process of creation with Him. I still shake my head in amazement thinking about it, and all I can say to people is, "What a trip."
A couple days later you and I went back to the hospital to meet your friend, Gavin, born just three days after you to our friends, Kathy and Alex. While we were there, I had brought a card that the other nurses delivered to Valerie for me. I was so grateful for her kind encouragement to go naturally that allowed me to experience birth this way. To my surprise, Valerie found me after receiving my card and I was able to tell her in person how much that meant to me. We relived that process together. I kept praising God for it all.
Miss Emery Anne, as your birth announcement says, you were "born amidst joyful tears and praises to God." at 9 pounds 3 ounces 22 inches at 9:36am on Tuesday, January 25, 2011 at St. Joseph's Hospital in Tacoma, Washington. We love you little Webster. And we love getting to know you more each day.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
paint paint paint
I've been hauling the girls around from Home Depot to Miller Paint and to Benjamin Moore for the last two days now trying to find just the right colors to paint the exterior of our home. (I need to plug our ever-faithful Sherwin Williams here. I find the paint I like elsewhere and they graciously match it for me :)
Drew will be painting our next door neighbor's home next week and mentioned to me that he could do ours at the same time. yippee! Many of you may think our house is painted, and while the majority of it is, upon closer look, you'll realize it is only half-done. ha. The old adage is true, the paint contractor's home is never painted itself.
Our home is covered in renovation magazines and scraps of paper with colors the I think I like, but then when we get samples and try it out on our home, it looks awful! Thanks to the patience of my husband, I get to try again.... and again.... to find that perfect combination of colors. Our home is currently a nice safe beige with white trim and black accents. Both Drew and I want something more unique. How do we go unique and not freak out our neighbors... or ourselves?
We will see.
Drew will be painting our next door neighbor's home next week and mentioned to me that he could do ours at the same time. yippee! Many of you may think our house is painted, and while the majority of it is, upon closer look, you'll realize it is only half-done. ha. The old adage is true, the paint contractor's home is never painted itself.
Our home is covered in renovation magazines and scraps of paper with colors the I think I like, but then when we get samples and try it out on our home, it looks awful! Thanks to the patience of my husband, I get to try again.... and again.... to find that perfect combination of colors. Our home is currently a nice safe beige with white trim and black accents. Both Drew and I want something more unique. How do we go unique and not freak out our neighbors... or ourselves?We will see.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
craft/art night with the girls...
...brought to you by diet cokes, red wine and the serious creativity of ten women.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
and that's Bentley
She says she's on her way to the doctor after getting her hot chocolate from the coffee shop.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
"Mommy, it's you!"
Bentley told me she was going to draw a picture of me. As she finished, she said, "Mommy, it's you!" and we hung it on the fridge. A few moments later, Bentley examined her work and said, "Mommy, no hair!" and told me she wanted to put hair on it. "You have purple hair, mommy." She grabbed the purple crayon and remedied the problem.
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