Articles by Devona

We have been crazy-busy this year. When there is no baby in the house life can really speed up! Sometimes I miss the slow motion lifestyle of a baby, and then I remember how nice it is to get some sleep (some nights anyway).

The girls have been going to the pool a lot, thanks to aunt Sarah. And Rob has started running, too. I injured my IT band, so I’ve been doing about every exercise excluding running. Plus to save money on gas we bought a bike trailer which I have been using to do my short errands with the girls. They love it and so do I.

The garden is really in high gear now and this is Elise’s first experience with pulling something out of the dirt and eating it 5 minutes later. You’d think that fiber would help in potty-training, but alas it does not. Yesterday we ate the last three carrots from the first planting, the second group shouldn’t be mature for about 3 more weeks. We also began munching on the greenbeans, but unfortunately so have the Japanese Beatles.

I also made my first attempt at canning something from my garden. I have a TON, I repeat, TON of Hungarian Hot Peppers so I decided to pickle them to use as pizza toppings and give some away. Well, it didn’t work, The seal was no good. Maybe next time.

We had the best group of kids for Higher Things. Going into any event as the chaperone has its helping of worry. Will the kids be involved, will they listen, will they have fun? Will there be an emergency? I was feeling all those things on the ride out there, but our group proved very responsible and very fun. Here they are singing Dave Matthews Band songs in the van.

Rob and I were continually asked if we were students, and often no one believed that we were leaders until we told them that we had two kids at home. I guess that is flattering.

Well, like I said, the kids were awesome. They made friends, took notes, asked questions, sang at the top of their lungs and I was proud to be their leader. They were even better at keeping curfew than Rob and I. All I have to say is that I’m sure that Lutherans plan their conference location around dive bars…

Our most recent bargain is the castle shaped sandbox I got for $7 at a garage sale. I brought it home, we filled it with sand and it’s been fun ever since. Our neighbor came over and said exactly what I was thinking, “That’s one less sandbox in the landfill.” I love my neighbors.

Unfortunately, Elise was napping the Sunny Sunday afternoon that these pictures were taken. I will have to get some of her in the sandbox as well. Elise’s style of sand-play is mostly filling and dumping, repeat.

Olivia prefers tossing sand (argh) and asking me to help her build sand castles. These are the “really big” sand castles that she wanted me to take a picture of her smashing.

Following this act of violence we proceeded to make Cair Paravel including the children, a pack of wolves, a whale, some dolphins, a dragon, and Aslan himself.

There is sand all over my kitchen floor.

She really likes the video, “of the kids who know how to fly.” Her favorite parts are the “nap time” and of course “flying to Neverland.”

He is Risen Indeed!

I turn 26 on Saturday. Fate dictates that my 26th birthday lies 30 weeks before the Akron Marathon, 2008. That gives me exactly enough time to train for the big 26.2 miles.

I start my training on Saturday morning. 26.2 miles/26 years old, it just makes sense.

These things. These theological questions that Olivia comes up with. I’ll tell you, if this isn’t the most humbling task, the instruction of Little Ones concerning God’s Truth, then I don’t know what else is.

While driving home from a LONG outing to try and find a fabric store that carries Anna Marie Horner’s “chocolate lollipops” fabric Olivia asked me, “Where is God, I want to be with Him but I can’t see Him.”

Criminey! So I said, “well God lives in Heaven, which is in the sky behind the clouds and the stars and the sun.” It feels good to talk to her about something that I love so much, but I’m worried about being confusing, worried about giving too much information, or too little. The best advice I’ve been given is to let their questions guide you. Well, Olivia is a girl of many questions, so these conversations go on for a long time.

“How can we fly up into the sky so that we can get behind the sun and see God?” she asks.

“Well, we can’t. But God comes down to us, too. So we can see Him down here. When we read our Bible, that is God’s Words talking to us. And when a little baby is Baptized God puts himself in the water and pours himself all over the baby, so we can see Him there. And when we take Communion at Church we are eating Jesus’ Body and Blood, so we can see Him there.” I said, hoping that she wasn’t confused.

“That means that there are two Jesuses.”

“No, there’s only one Jesus. It’s just like there is only one Olivia even when you get a cut and your blood comes out.” At this point I was pretty sure that I was being confusing. Now I’m talking about biology and theology. Yikes. Where are all the smart people? How in the world am I going to help Liv know God in truth?

But that seemed to be enough for a while. Until later that night we were reading a book about St. Patrick. I asked who God’s Son was and she said, “Jesus.” So I reminded her that Jesus is God, and the Holy Spirit is God. Then I said that the Holy Spirit is inside her. “I don’t want Him in there. Can you take Him out?” she complains, pulling at her shirt.
Great. This is the spiritual instruction that I have to give her now when Rob and I are her only influence. What kind of questions is she going to come up with when other people are telling her things? Will I ever be ready for this?

1. Pick up the nearest book ( of at least 123 pages).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people & post a comment here once you post it to your blog, so I can come see.

“And He looks me right in the face, as though he wants me to know he knows it is a performance and he’s amused by it. I suppose an attempt is a performance, in some sense. But what else can I do?”

It’s from <i>Gilead</i>, which Rob checked out form the Library. I’ve had no intentions of reading it, but not that I’ve gotten these three sentences out of the way, why not continue?

If you read this, and you want to do it, you’re tagged. If you don’t have a blog and you want to do it, leave it in the comments.

I’m sorry that my contribution to this blog has reduced to passing on the funny things my kids do and say. I’m not intentionally trying to be boring, it’s just winter and I have nothing really profound to say.

Now that I’ve apologized, here’s a peak into our family prayer life:

Dad: Ok Liv, what would you like to pray about tonight?

Liv: Elephants.

Dad: Good idea, we can thank God for creating them. Can you pray for Pastor Kozak, too?

Liv: Lord God, Thank you for Elephants. Will you help them to be healthy and strong? Amen.  Lord God, Please be with Pastor Kozak so that he can grow up until his head touches the ceiling at church. Amen.

Today was THE day. We took Olivia to her first gymnastics class. It was actually her first class of any kind. She was told that she couldn’t go to gymnastics until after nap. She asked to lay down at 11:30, she was that excited.

I watched as my little girl hopped and flipped around a bar, walked on a balance beam and grew to be very proud of herself. I also watched as she tried to disobey and do her own thing and was brought back to the group with some gentle guiding from her coach, and the fear that she might not get to play along if she didn’t keep the rules. I was proud of her. She was so big, she just hopped along and followed directions once she got the hang of what she was supposed to do.

For a reward for a good class they all got to jump into the foam pit that the older kids use to catch them as the practice dismounts from the bars and stuff. That was the highlight of Olivia’s life. They jumped in over and over. She was hoping to try that from the moment we walked into the gym and she said, “Mom, those kids are falling all over those squares!” with eyes as big as saucers.

She bounced and danced all night long. I could tell she felt a sense of accomplishment. She also had a ton of fun. “I am so happy! I am so happy!” was the chant the whole way out to our car. She loved it so much we signed up for the weekly class.

When I drink coffee after 2 or 3 pm Elise wakes up at 1 am and 4 am and kicks us frequently in her attempts to go back to sleep. I am too tired at 4 am to try to put her back to sleep in her bed, especially since she is violently angry at the thought of it and I have to be alert enough to be sneaky.

If I don’t drink coffee in the afternoons and opt for tea, Elise wakes up at 3am or 4am and I can quietly nurse her back to sleep in less than 15 minutes. She stays in her own bed until about 6am or 7am and we can sleep without vicious toes in our skin.

This is the same child with whom I had pre-labor contractions that drove me up a wall until I cut out caffeine around 38 weeks pregnant. Starbucks does not like Elise, or maybe it’s the other way around.

So, here you go Dad. Also go to our Flickr account where you can see some of the other pictures. The Parrot picture is in there, too.

As for everyone else. You will notice a striking improvement in the quality of L&B photography. That would be thanks to Rob and the Nikon D40 that he bought me for Christmas. It’s my new favorite thing.

These things that Olivia comes up with! I really had no idea what to say to this one, so I just answered it as best as I could and hoped that I wasn’t confusing. I ended up being funny, apparently. Olivia was cracking up.

So what was my answer?

“We are. All the People of God are His wife. Me, you, Elise, Daddy…”

Liv laughed, “Daddy is a girl?!”

I then said, giggling and afraid that I’ve reached the point of confusing, “Well, with God and people He is the boy and we are all girls.”

It was hilarious, I tell you, for Olivia to imagine that Daddy is a girl. I have absolutely no idea if that was a good answer or not. Remind me again why I am in the business of Catechizing this little spit-fire?

Poor Kyle. He let me take this picture and now it’s on the internet.

In case any of his future employers google his name and somehow get this site (Good for him we don’t share a last name anymore) he’s a bright and creative young man. Don’t let the kitsch fool you.

Here’s the whole image.

While Rob was practicing guitar yesterday Olivia walked in with her head and one arm through a 12 inch diameter embroidery hoop. She was clearly stuck and we have no idea how she even managed to get in it in the first place.

Rob put down his guitar and she said, “I don’t need your help!” with a hint of embarrassment in her tone. She was looking for a private place to struggle free so she went to the corner, moved all the furniture around herself so she was hidden, clanged and banged and suffered, but did not come out until she had somehow removed the hoop.

She then said to Rob, “I made it! I almost died,” and walked away unscathed.

We spent the holiday in Virginia, celebrating the life of Rob’s Grandmother. She passed earlier this year and was laid to rest beside Rob’s Grand-Dad at Arlington Cemetery. I unfortunately forgot my camera, otherwise I’d share some pictures of that beautiful and solemn place.

The following day I played Kitchen Guru with Rob’s Aunt Jen and his Uncle George. We split our Thanksgiving Prep with Boston Market and home cooked food. Someone needs to email me some pictures of the family around the table and the “Lutheran Tea” picture.

Following dinner Olivia fell asleep with her hand in a bag of chips and Elise snuggled with the men and watched football.

Later in the evening we were thankful for Dan’s pyrotechnic endeavors. I must say the Braziers are a supportive family. Dan made this bazooka all by himself. I’m impressed.

Friday was spent toiling up a HUGE mountain. Old Rag was our calorie burn for the weekend. The glory of God’s creation was certainly worth being thankful for.

Here’s some video from the top.

It was quite a trip. We got a LOT of requests for more pictures of the family while we were there, so click the link to our Flickr if you’d like to see some adorableness.

I really love to design our own cards every year. But if I have too much demand at my etsy store this year I’m going to have Kristen at Winged Feet Design do our cards. Her designs are awesome and I would love to know that my money is going to help her support her two adorable daughters.

Remember to support the little guy this year. The economy will thank you for it!

Here are 8 random things, as I have been tagged by The Queen. I have no idea who to tag, since I’m very unpopular and have received my tag long past the induction of this meme and everyone has done it already.

1. I have no idea how to work this blog. I have to have Rob resign me in all the time because I can never remember my username or password. I’m sure it drives him nuts. Right now it is stuck in HTML mode and I don’t know how to change it back.

2. Once I tried to teach myself CSS. That’s the only thing that helps me out when things like my blog going wonky happen. I can do just enough simple code to make things post.

3. Elise’s picture is going to be posted on the Thursday Gratuitous Cute Kid Picture at Anti-Racist Parent tomorrow. That’s pretty cool.

4. I spent the whole morning cleaning up half full baskets of clean laundry.

5. I have a very messy house, and I cope by closing myself in here with the excuse that I’m watching my etsy store.

6. Olivia refuses to nap most days and in order for us to both get a break I let her watch TV.

7. I HATE it when I let Olivia watch TV.

8. I need to go to the grocery store really bad. We have no eggs, no fruit.

You can too!

Olivia enjoys Peter and the Wolf!

Nina and Papa. We LOVE the books. Especially Tuesday. Even Sherman loved it.

Hope that observing the enjoyment does not cause you to get seasick!

As fall approacheth I feel a pressing need to make grander efforts towards exercising with the family. I am running 7.1 miles this Saturday in the Akron Marathon with some friends and acquaintances on a five person relay. Training for that has kept me motivated through the heat of summer but I know that shorter days and colder weather will be biting my motivational bud soon enough.

Thus I instated the Wednesday Walk in which we load the stroller and family (only excluding Rob who is at work) and haul off, dog and all, to the same park where I have been training for the race. The goal of this endeavor is to watch the leaves change, teach my dog some manners with other dogs, namely “they-are-not-your-best-friend-so-stop-dragging-me-by-the-arm,” and to get in a habit of exercise which we can add to if we want, but it will get us out of the house at least once a week.

Our Wednesday Walks are 2 hilly miles with a waterfall at the turnaround point and picnic tables at the end. Today we packed a lunch and made use of the picnic tables, or ships according to Olivia. Then we traveled through Neverland in the trees while flying with Nana, I mean Sherman.

The trees are still mostly green to Olivia’s great disappointment. She is looking forward to snow.

Elise came peacefully into this world. Birthing her was 95% calm and easy going, 5% scream your head off, back archingly tough. Elise’s personality is following suit.

95% of Elise is shy, sweet, and simple. The last 5% is a red-hot temper that growls, arches her back, and screams in high frequencies.

She loves her sister, and she loves getting her in trouble. She is currently trying to cute me into not typing on the computer by pulling on my arm and saying, “Mamamama!” She loves music and will ramdomly pound on the piano as she passes by. She loves to play ball, and snuggle dolls, and is definitely a Daddy’s Girl.

Our lives wouldn’t be complete without you, Elise! Thank you for being our little girl!

I try not to meddle in the parenting of others. It’s their business, but I obviously have my opinions. I mostly have oppositions to the “Christian Parenting” giants who like to write books making generalizations about how to parent my child unto godliness, all the while knowing nothing about me. I don’t just disagree with their methods, I disagree with their theology and their lack of discretion. How do they know to whom they are teaching? How do they know their methods are being properly prescribed? And mostly, how can they not see that this method of “discipline” obscures the person and work of Christ when a parent cannot forgive their child until there has been punishment for their sins? Are not our Christian children under the Fount of Grace as much as we are?

Here is a wonderful take on the topic over at Lutherama. Don’t just read my post on it. I have only skimmed the subject since she has done such excellent work, I would only be repeating, so make sure you click the link.

to appease a Stay-at-Home-Mom?

Well, I just started a craft blog in order to not add yet another topic of (dis)intrest here at L&B. The grand unveiling of “ Recycling at its Cutest.” Which will also help me to make items to post for sale on my etsy store.

So, stop by. Leave comments. Email me with other craft blogs that I can add to my blog roll. Use my blogroll to link to other blogs so people will trackback to me.

You know people have gotten book deals because of their craft blogs.

Rob’s Grandmother passed away a few weeks ago, and thus began Olivia’s questions about death. “Why did Daddy’s Grandmother have to die, Mama?” (she always calls me Mama when she’s feeling small). Not what I was expecting to hear from my not yet 3 year old.

“Because she was very old and sick, and Jesus said it was time for her to die and go home to be with Him.”

“I don’t want to go be with Jesus.”

“It will be a long time before you have to go be with Jesus.”

I can’t remember exactly what she asked next (this was weeks ago, really) but it was something about if we would see Grandmother with Jesus. I think she still confuses Pastor with Jesus, so perhaps she was asking if Grandmother would be at church. I’m not sure. But anyways, I answered her, “We all love Jesus, and all the people who love Jesus will be together with Him after they die.”

That seemed to satisfy her. Though the topic has come up regularly since then.

At bedtime tonight Olivia told me that her ponies went to be with Jesus because they died. Then she said, “But we will see them when we die.”

“Yes, we will all go be with Jesus.”

“Will we be people?”

“Yes,  Jesus will give us all new bodies that won’t ever get sick, or hurt, or sad.”

“Mine will be pink,” she said matter-of-factly.

The video speaks for itself…

She’s walking. That’s an obvious first. But Elise has made another milestone this week.

She slept the whole night in her own bed!!!!! I slept really well, even though I had to go to her room twice and nurse her for 5 minutes or so. That was still better than what had become her night-time ritual of trying to find Rob in the middle of the night. “Da-Doh? Da-Doh?” she’d whisper while crawling all over the bed.

For the past 11 months Elise has started her night out in her own bed, either the bassinet when she was smaller or her crib, and then around 2 or 4 she’d wake up and I’d bring her to our bed. Everyone slept really well. It was a glorious system.  But then she got really close to learning to walk and having us around was too much incentive to practice moving, even if it was pitch black.

This is the same stage that got Olivia moved into her own room. She would stand up in her crib and sing to us for hours at night, just because we were there.

There are some families who can co-sleep with their kids for years. I don’t know how they do it.  Eventually, no one in our house is sleeping anymore. And if there’s no sleep, it’s not co-sleeping, it’s torture.

Look at her go!

We had a 5 day holiday with the Stagers last week. It was all laziness and relaxation. Not much else. The only draw back was it was too short.

The kids played together well.

The dogs enjoyed relative freedom.

And the adults enjoyed conversation and some time away from the daily grind. We also spent some time being holistically rejuvenated and cleansed in the mineral springs at Berkley.

Spaghetti

And Elise is eating yogurt

And Olivia wanted to eat lettuce, but she fell asleep instead

Tonight’s dinner came from within 50 miles of our home. We had BBQ Ribs from a cow from the next county over. The rest of the cow (well a quarter of him) is in my garage freezer. We had mint new potatoes; the potatoes were from a farm a little north of here, and the mint is from my back yard. And corn on the cob from another farm near by, we also had kettle corn from the same seller at the farmers’ market.

Fresh, delicious, and local. YUM!

I saw it. I LOVED it. I want to see it again.

There is a thunder storm that just hasn’t settled in. My pumpkins really need the water, and it’s way too humid. So, open up you great clouds, you!

Actually, it’s to the beat of an African drum. Who knew Elise had so much groove. Our girls are dancing fools!

because the Queen has nominated our blog for the Thinking Blogger Award!

Which isn’t fair, because she is one of my 5 nominations, so I’ll have to find a replacement now…

These blogs have consistently kept me reading, thinking, and encouraged:

1. Manila Drive- And not just cause they’re my best friends.

2. Nine Tons of Marble- On all things beautiful, and beautifully simple.

3. This Classical Life- Her books read this year will put you to shame!

4. TulipGirl- Gentle, thoughtful, and Graceful

5. Moot Thoughts & Musings- Crafty, motherly, and a little bit funky. I think she’s one of “My kind of people.”

I think every nursing mom has learned how to blend in with her surroundings. Lean back, space out, and don’t dare make eye contact with anyone. You don’t want to notice when they avert their eyes. Just accept the fact that your adorable child who usually has enough charm to start a conversation with anyone in a thirty foot radius has now transformed the two of you into the social equivalent of a leper.

I have grown so used to being ignored when my kids are hungry. I have wanted so badly for any kind of acknowledgment, even negative, so at least I could stand up for myself. But I didn’t realize how thoroughly I have been effected until the aftermath of my experiences at the mall today.

Olivia was playing on the toy car rides in the mall after we had eaten lunch. We were in transit from my chiropractor appointment at 11 and Olivia’s cast removal at 1 so we were just wasting time when Elise started to get hungry. I moved over to the bench where I could keep an eye on Liv and started nursing Elise. I don’t carry a blanket, but I don’t make a big show either, it’s just business as usual.

While I watched Liv ride the train a group of about ten teenage girls comes over and they start taking each other’s pictures on the car rides and laughing. That’s when I noticed that one of the girls was staring at me. That’s not uncommon so I just glance up, grin, and look away. Business as usual.

Then the Staring Girl walks over, very flagrantly, and whispers to her friend and her friend swings her head around to gawk at me. My heart began to race, and I started to think of all the things I’ve prepared myself to say in case I ever needed to defend my right to breastfeed.

This is where things get really interesting. One of the girls notices her friends’ attempt to make me a spectacle, and she turns to me and waves. So I waved back and she said loudly and deliberately, “Your baby is precious.” I was moved. She stuck up for me. I thanked her from across the room.

Right about then Elise was done eating and it was time to be heading to Olivia’s appointment so I packed up my stuff. On my way out I made a split decision to thank that girl for being so kind to me. She helped me feel normal when I had been beginning to feel like a sideshow for doing what I have to do to mother my Baby. As I tapped her arm and said thank you I surprised myself. I totally started crying.

“Thank you,” I sobbed. “No one is ever nice to me. They either ignore me, or are rude to me, but no one is ever nice.” She hugged me, and highfived me.

After I escaped my emotional outburst and made it to the car I reflected on my surprise reaction. Why was I so worked up? I hadn’t even known how much hurt I’d been carrying around. That’s when I put a name to the way people have treated me, I’ve been discriminated against for being a breastfeeding mom. It’s a quiet discrimination, but that’s what it is and it hurts. It belittles, and labels and judges.

I felt an extra solidarity with my Mall Advocate– she was African American and she was probably noticing a feeling in me that she had felt herself before: a sadness and anger at not being acceptable they way you are. Thank God for my own little Martin Luther King Jr. in the mall today…  my hero.

Olivia is on the cusp between the age where she cannot control her impulses, and the age where she can. She has known right from wrong in some sense for a long time. I know this because she is very verbal and enjoys telling her aunts and uncles, “We don’t go outside by ourselves!” or, “Stop fighting!” Knowing right and wrong does not equal being able to master her own desires and comply and so we have a lot of correcting, reminding, redirecting etc.

Well, where she once took the correction, reminding, and redirecting as an annoying interruption to her active play, she now reacts very humbly. When I have said, “Olivia, we don’t use our hands for hitting. Use gentle hands with our sister,” these past few weeks a new response has come from my little girl. She covers her eyes with her hands and sometimes she even apologizes spontaneously. It’s simultaneously adorable and encouraging.

I try to meet every, “I’m sorry, Elise!” with a: “She forgives you. Now we all feel better.” And after something has made Olivia feel particularly guilty I remind her of how Christ has died on the cross for her sins and she doesn’t need to feel bad anymore.

I think this is probably the perfect time to introduce the Ten Commandments. And hopefully I can start helping her to understand how pushing her sister is breaking the fourth and fifth commandments. That’s probably a little ambitious. But it pays to aim high.

They’re gone. I harvested a huge bag of greenbeans from the garden the past few days. I was looking forward to steaming them for dinner on Wednesday night.

Today, after nap-time, Olivia ate the whole bag. Raw. By herself. In one sitting.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. But, at least our garden is going towards a healthful lifestyle for our family.

With 6 tomatos, beans, squash, and peppers,

and two pumpkin plants that GO!

If you’re sitting around feeling un-patriotic you should read this book:

The Killer Angels

It is soooooo good.

I have a button on the side bar that links to my Etsy store.

Thanks, Rob! How awesome!

Tomorrow, if the kids nap I’ll add my first pair of shoes!

I’d make up a word and a bunch of people would be using it regularly in order to prove how cultured they were.

I’m not Shakespeare, but if you want to use my word you can:

Croc-offs

It’s my word for generic Crocs, if you couldn’t tell. I just got a pair for $3 at payless… How consumer of me.

We had VBS this week, which sent me into a panic because I was the director. But, it was very fun for the girls, as well as the rest of the kiddos from our church.

We had the children sing a hymn and recite a poem that they learned this week before the service today. Olivia was just a smidge too young to get the idea of a “youth choir performance,” though she is not at all too young to get the idea of “performance.”

If I wasn’t so darn proud of her groove she might have embarassed me, shaking her little tooshie to midieval hymns in front of the whole congregation.

You can find it here. There isn’t anything very spectaular going on there right now, I need to have some time to sit down and sew. But I’m gearing up to list some other things besides just baby carriers.  I just made a pattern for soft soled shoes that use recycled leather and denim. And I also made a pattern for little girl’s A-line dresses from recycled men’s dress shirts (they’re a tad punk rock).

Look for those new listings in the next few weeks, as well as some new fabric choices for my Mei Tais.

Elise:

(pointing at me) “Maaaaaa Maaaaaaaaa”

(pointing at Olivia) “Wah Yah”

(in response to being pushed by Olivia) “AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

Olivia:

“I woke up in the middle of the night (it was really 9:30 by the way) and we went to watch the lightning bugs. Then Sherman got me with his leash. Sherman leashed me. I popped on my arm. Then I cried and mom held me. I had to go the doctor and get fixed. Now I have a beautiful pink cast.”

(pointing to her pink cast) “I don’t want this thing.”

And wasting time. I have a lot of important things to do, but since I had one of the worst days ever I’m doing this for now and I’ll do the important stuff when I’m so sleepy that I can hardly keep my eyes open and the baby is twenty minutes away from waking up to nurse.

The Queen of Carrots posted this Meme, and it’s probably been a year since I did one so I thought I’d copy her. It’s also a good time to post a Meme like this because we started our blog 3 years ago, next month. That’s craziness.

How did you start blogging?
Rob was reading a photo blog by a guy who was an ex-patriot in Japan and had a young family. Then Rob’s mom told us about all the confessional Lutheran blogs she’d been reading. We became interested in letting the whole world know all about us so we signed up with blogger.

Did you intend to be a blog w/a following? If so, how did you go about it?

We wanted a following when we began blogging. We linked to other blogs regularly, joined in on theological discussions that were running about the blogosphere. We wrote emotional pieces about our soon to be born first child. At one point in time we were getting more than a hundred hits a day. Then about six months after Olivia was born we quit blogging regularly, and Rob pretty much quit all together. Most of the readers were reading him, so our “following” started following others. I was sad at first, but I really don’t care any more.

What do you hope to achieve or accomplish with your blog? Have you been successful? If not, do you have a plan to achieve those goals?

I hope to keep my writing fingers limber so that when I can connect more that two brain cells, and sleep for more than four straight hours without feeding someone, I can write short stories that are as good as F. Scott Fitzgerald or Flannery O’Connor. I have four paragraphs and a basic premise for a short story, including character names and other details. That’s a little bit successful, but mostly my blog just gives me an excuse not to think about that short story when I’m really tired.
Has the focus of your blog changed since you started blogging? How?

Yes. When Rob was writing more often we had a higher standard for what was blog worthy. Anymore I just want to share something with who ever will read it so I am flying off the cuff a lot more often now. Plus, I’ve gotten more set in my ways, but less likely to make a big fuss about it. I think I argue more when I haven’t made up my mind, but now that I’m getting old and stubborn I’m not as interested in the ruckus.

What do you know now that you wish you’d known when you started?

That It’s not a good idea to fight with your old friends that have moved away over the internet. I haven’t talked to a few people, even online, that used to be very dear to me and I’m afraid it’s because the internet leaves little room for “agreeing to disagree.”

Do you make money with your blog?

No.

Does your immediate or extended family know about your blog? If so, do they read it? If not, why?

They do. In fact I think that they are the only people who actually read this blog anymore, excepting the few people who we made more intimate connections with and are reading to keep up with the family. Hi Mom, Dad, other Dad, Nina and Papa, Mina, Nana and Bunkle, the Uncles and Aunts, and the Stagers.

What two pieces of advice would you give to a new blogger?
1. Just keep writing until you find your blogging voice, and then just go with it.

2. Write even if no one comments. Blogging is more enjoyable if you post what you want, regardless of how people respond.

How did you come to name your blog?
We were constantly listening to Andrew Peterson’s album <i>Love and Thunder</i> which rhymes with Love and Blunder and it just seemed to fit the mood of a young married couple. It’s clever and it rolls off your tongue. I have come to think of Rob and I as “Love and Blunder” in tandem.

One of the reasons I wanted to buy an old house is for the history in the home. The imagined lives of its past inhabitants, wondering about the children growing here. Wondering about who had the house built.

In this house some of those questions were easily answered. We have the original blue prints and the original work order for the home, passed down by the 4 previous owners of this home. Almost nothing in our house has been changed except the kitchen has been updated and the basement finished.

We also know quite a good deal about the original owner of the house. Mr. Sittle and his wife were the first people to build on this street in 1926. They moved here from a farm and brought some of the pieces of their old barn with them, which are still in the garage. Mr. Sittle was a milk man for a local milk company, he drove a horse drawn milk wagon up and down Market Street, when it was still a brick road. He was driving milk for that company still, when they started delivering the milk in trucks.

Our next door neighbors moved into their home when the Sittles were retired. They tell us all about how Mr. Sittle would bring a lawn chair out into the front yard just to watch my neighbor’s children play in the yard. My neighbor, Bob, recollects Mr. Sittle with a look in his eye like he’s remembering a long lost friend, or a close family member.

Now our neighbors are reaching retirement and Bob comes out and chats with Olivia and tickles Elise and pretty much acts like an on site grandfather. I can see that he is pretty satisfied in becoming the neighborhood replacement for old Mr. Sitttle.

about something very close to my heart: the normalization of childbirth.

I have had two very different births. Olivia’s birth was a nightmare and Elise’s birth was beautiful. It wasn’t a homebirth, but it would have been if the laws in Ohio would permit me to have a transfer in the case of an emergency to a doctor that I knew.

Look up your state’s birth laws, unless you live in New Mexico you will be astonished.

Be educated on natural childbirth (as in take a Bradley class, or something not offered in a hospital), have a midwife, a doula, or a husband/best friend/coach to help you deliver as naturally is possible. One thing people don’t know about birth is that one intervention leads to another, even something as seemingly harmless as continuous fetal monitoring.

Protect yourself and your baby.

and Olivia is proud to tell us (as of last night), “God made me.”

God Parents, you’ve done well.

See the rest at my photobucket site.

We bought our home in the city– an eighty-year-old urban haven for our little growing family. As we’ve been doing our spring cleaning and coming across all the simple, uh, pleasures of living in an older home I was inspired to write a few posts about the art of living in an older house.

There are wonderful quirks, and not-so-wonderful quirks. For example, our pest problem. For the two springs that we’ve lived here we’ve gotten a rodent in the house. This spring we’ve had more than one. We get them in the fall, too. We don’t, however, have them year in and out. I think they keep wondering if we’ve moved out yet.

We get some traps, and keep extra clean for a few weeks, and then they’re gone. This year’s guests aren’t gone yet so we’ve gotta stay alert.

It’s kind of creepy, but I think of all country women out on the farm who live with this kind of vermin and find it common place. It’s just the symptom of living in an older house, there’s nothing you can do to change it.

So, that’s my introduction to my series (every time I intend to start a series I only write one post, so I hope this is the exception) on our old house. I’ll also post about upkeep, gardening, the neighborhood, and if I think of anything else I’ll post about that, too.

Happy spring cleaning to all of you, on the Memorial Day weekend!

even though I am not a Looper myself. They’re Lutheran Homeschoolers for those who don’t know.

This week, The Rebellious Pastor’s Wife wrote an excellent post about the Parable of the Good Samaritan. She’s taking a class and these were based on a lecture, I think.

Let me just say that I’m JEALOUS that she is taking a class like this. Look at this quote:

But Jesus is the Good Samaritan. He comes and bandages our wounds, gives us a safe place, and revives us. He is God, so He cannot be unclean, but He takes our uncleanness upon Him. He gives the innkeeper two denarii (two days pay) to watch after us and says He will repay him when He comes back….when? He took care of two days…so He’s returning on the 3rd Day…when He rises again.

I love it! It seems like the kind of text-dissection that went on in my best literature classes in college, but it’s about Christ. I would LOVE that. Suddenly I’m very jealous of seminarians. I bet they get to read this stuff all the time.

Today Olivia asked me, “Can we stay at this park forever? Let’s live here for our house.”

Sorry, Liv. We spent a lot of money on our real house. Too much to just give it up and live at the park.

But I didn’t just finish, I finished in 2 hours, 7 minutes and 43 seconds. I was hoping to finish in 2:20. I am so competitive, which isn’t good when Rob and I are playing cards, but is very good when trying to run a long distance.

The weather was great, about 63 degrees and overcast, which is perfect for running. I was pushing it hard at the end, and right when I thought that I was overdoing it and might not make the end, right after the 11 mile marker, I saw my family at the side-line cheering for me! I ducked through the crowd and kissed Olivia on the head and that was the boost I needed to make it to finish strong.

I was so overextended at the finish-line that I was weaving around, and kind of dizzy. I probably looked drunk. But I drank some Powerade, and ate some pineapple and a Popsicle and I felt much better except for the extreme soreness.

But that’s that. It’s done and I did great. I feel great. My family is already encouraging me to run in the Akron Marathon at the end of the summer…

and ready to drive up to Cleveland. As Murphy has decreed Olivia woke me up at 4:30 for no good reason. I hope that I am rested enough to run well.

See you all after my race!

While all of you happy Lutherans are getting ready to go to church I will be running my 13.1 miles. The whole family will be there to back me up, and carry me away in a heap from the finish line.

As soon as I have pictures, and results I will post.

GO MEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

How exciting. I get to have a handmade vintage styled apron as a prize. I knew that those 4 years of college would pay off somehow!

Honestly though, I’m very flattered.

There’s only so much I can say about running. You just keep putting one foot in front of the other until you’ve gotten where you want to go.

Instead I’ll post about my recent discovery about Olivia’s diet. Olivia has been having these monumental tantrums. These are the kind of tantrum that cause you to walk on eggshells for days afterwards because you can tell another one is just around the corner. I read Ames and Ilg Your Two Year Old and it was pretty much telling me that two-and-a-half year olds will throw fits a lot. I just thought that Olivia was much more intense naturally. She is fundamentally independent and highly will-full so I figured that’s what I get for being me, and marrying a guy who’s got people as intense as me for siblings. It must just be a genetic nightmare, but normal for us, even though it was a sudden change.

Then Rob’s mom saw one of the melt-downs-with-no-end and she asked me if they were coming around the same time everyday. They didn’t seem like normal Terrible Two behavior. So I brainstormed and discovered that they were always happening in between meals or before breakfast.

Mary sent me this article and it described Olivia and her sudden behavior change to a T, she must have been suffering from low-blood sugar. I was relieved to have some explanation for her outbursts, and some hope for resolution to the problem.

I began feeding her around the clock. I put food out that she can access herself when ever she felt like she needed a snack. In less than 24 hours there was a dramatic change for the better. My sweet little girl was home again and the Terror-Beast was no where to be seen.

I am so glad that we kept working on this until there was an answer. For a few days I really thought that Olivia was just trying to test my limit. I was trying so hard to put the boundaries down firmer and firmer and all I got was more and more tantrums. I’m ashamed that I had so little faith in Olivia’s relationship with me. Next time something like this happens I won’t be so slow to suspect a medical cause, and for the time being I’m going to be monitoring Olivia’s food intake and the resulting behavior. Hopefully this won’t be a continuous concern.

So instead of a post about persevering in the race, this is a post about persevering in my parenting. Being steadfast in my search for a resolution and refusing to let the bad days get the best of us, or worse, come between us. I love my kids too much to let them down like that.

Sure, running is great for me. In fact one of the reasons that I kept going when the training first got difficult was that while I was out on the road or trail no one was touching me. Moms get touched-out quickly, especially with a new baby in the house. It’s also been a great to watch my pants size drop from 8 to 6 to 4 (and getting baggy in the 4s). So, this race and all of the build-up has definitely been for me.

But in my last post I mentioned that I’m running this race for my family as much as I am running it for me. So how is it that mom abandoning her family up to 4 times a week is beneficial to them?

For starters I come home HAPPY. Like, high-on-endorphins-happy. And I have a ton more energy, so I am less likely to be taking naps all day long (or sitting at the computer which is more likely than a nap). My house is staying straightened up more often. Plus, we are learning discipline together when I suit all the kids and the dog up and plop them in the stroller so that I can get my 2 miles in during the week. It’s not easy, but it has to get done.
But even more so, it’s good for them because it is good for me. I feel so much better about myself because I am doing something. It has helped me forget about the fact that I dropped out of college. I am confident that I can finish what I start if I want to, and I really want to finish this race. And a happy, confident, excited mom rubs off on the whole family. I can be proud of me, and so can my family.

I had always liked the idea of meditating on something peaceful to get me through hard situations. I would have thought it would be easier for me to do since I am an extremely visual person, but I could never slow my brain down enough to think on one scene or topic long enough to relax. I’d often end up feeling even more stressed out as my head either jumped franticly from image to image, or I’d end up thinking some really random depressing thought and that is not at all helpful.

But since I began running I’ve been able to train my head to visualize through a scene and calm down with it. We keep running our 6 mile training runs on the same wooded path so the scene has become familiar to me. Especially the homestretch– that last mile that is so easy to run once the endorphins kick in around 4 and a half miles or so that we gradually gain speed until we hit the finish.

I’ve seen this wooded path of Sand Run Parkway over and over again during training, and now I find myself visualizing it while I’m exhausted and washing dishes. Or while I’m trying to calm down during a certain Two-year-old’s temper tantrums. When we have ventured off the home turf and ran longer courses of 8, 9 and 10 miles I zone out on this image when I get exhausted. It reminds me that I am almost at the finish line.

I can’t wait to be running that last mile in Downtown Cleveland, through screaming crowds of people as Jacob’s Field approaches, and my mind will wander back to the trees on Sand Run Parkway, just as my knees are about to give out underneath me. I hope that I’m not so inwardly focused that I miss seeing my family cheering me on at the sidelines. I’m running this as much for them as I am for me.

The discipline I’ve gained from this endeavor has helped me in many ways (though I still can’t easily wake up before 7am). I’m calmer. I’m more likely to finish what I’ve started. And I’m confident that I can do something fantastic, especially when I take a moment to relax, focus, and keep my eye and my mind looking toward my goal.