"To become aware of the possibility of the search is to be onto something. Not to be onto something is to be in despair." -Walker Percy, The Moviegoer
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I just read the posts from last year out of curiosity. Those posts were so cute.
So I am busting out the old school blog. I hope to write here about the family. The crafting and little jot and tiddles will be on Clever Nesting and Facebook (why am I so networked!?) but the posts about the kids will go here. This is a good place for them. I’ve missed you, Love and Blunder.
I’ve spent the last five years (plus the two previous) getting to know Rob. We’ve spent most of that time increasing both our own patience levels and the population of Akron, Ohio. We’ve learned to expect certain personality short-comings to repeat. We’ve learned to try not to mention those short-comings unless we’re looking to start a fight or hurt feelings.
I’ve learned that Rob is exactly half of my Dad, and exactly half of his Dad. I’d say he’s the best half of both. He’s admirably principled, a very hard worker, not afraid of being transparent and a wonderful father. I have learned to trust him with my hardest conflicts because he is the best person at helping me figure it out and helping me when I need it. He believes in me when I don’t believe in myself and he’s always on my side.
I am so lucky to have found someone to be my best friend, advocate, (paycheck), coach and coworker.
I love you Rob. I hope I get a chance to go get you a handsome gift today. I hope I can think of something that reflects how much I feel about you.
Now back to our regularly scheduled anti-sentimentalism.
Tags: anniversary, life, love, marriage, Rob
First of all, I’m pregnant again. 12 weeks, now. The girls are excited. Olivia keeps saying, “Mom, you are looking a little bit fat now. Elise thinks that my belly button is the new baby and says that she can see his feet. She is very affectionate towards her imaginary belly-button-sibling. I think she’ll be shocked at what happens after Baby B #3 come out. He/She is due on Elise’s 3rd birthday in September. Talk about being de-throned!
I’m still planning on running this summer. Either a 10K or a Half-Marathon, depending on how my exhaustion and Rob’s traveling effect my training. Right now mostly I want to sleep all day, but I feel better on the days that I run, so I should keep it up.
More, randomness: Apparently Devona is the name of a city in Tajikistan. I don’t even know where that it. But here I am on a map:
View Larger Map
I am quite mountainous. That works for a pregnant lady.
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?
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.
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.
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!
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.
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
Actually, it’s to the beat of an African drum. Who knew Elise had so much groove. Our girls are dancing fools!
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.
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.
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.”
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!
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.
I have a vivid memory of my mother taking me to KB Toys. I wanted a something-or-other and she told me I couldn’t have it. I then proceeded to fake cry all about it up and down the aisles while my mom ignored me. I used to think she was cruel for ignoring me. “How insensitive,” I’d think.
Now that I’m the mother of a two-and-a-half year old, I think that she’d stumbled onto a very effective parenting technique.
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY MOM. Thanks for teaching me the art of selective hearing. I love you.
It’s about 2 weeks old now. Elise has since learned to crawl forwards (and not constantly backwards!) so I’ll have to take another diveo soon. It’s so hard to keep up with the photos and diveos when I’ve got two kiddos to catch. Yikes!
Olivia is very determined to play “Pastor.”
Yesterday it was warm enough to go outside, so when Olivia found mud puddle I was so elated to be in the sun I didn’t care if it meant an extra bath. Liv found many uses for the puddle. She painted the trashcan, she painted my car. She painted her shoes and herself.
Then she filled up a little bowl from her toy kitchen with watery mud and offered it to Sherman saying, “Take, Sherman. This is the true blood of Christ!”
How do you break the news that girls can’t be giving communion to dogs? It’s just not theologically sound. 
Over this weekend Olivia and I read this book to Elise. Since we were reading it to Elise I asked Olivia a lot of questions about the book. So, this is Olivia’s version of the Easter story as told by her and me:
Me: (pointing to a picture of the cross with a figure on it) Who’s this?
Liv: Jesus
Me: What is he doing?
Liv: He’s dying.
Me: Is he dying for you?
Liv: Yes. And Elise, and Sherman.
Me: (pointing to a picture of Mary) Who’s this?
Liv: Mary. She’s blue.
Me: Yes, Mary is usually wearing blue. (pointing to a picture of the Tomb) What’s this?
Liv: A rock.
Me: Yes this is the tomb where Jesus was buried after He died. (pointing to a picture of the empty tomb) What’s this.
Liv: (very excited) The rock is open! This is the happy part!!!!!
Me: Yes! It is so happy that Jesus rose again! He is alive!
Liv: He rose again!
Rob was sitting down at the table with his laptop finishing up some things he couldn’t get done at the office. I came in to clear off the table from dinner and said, “I cleaned out the refrigerator today. There was a lot of gross stuff in there. I should really do that more often.”
Rob looked at me vacantly.
“You’re not listening to me. That’s OK, I’m not saying anything important.”
Then Rob said, “No, I heard exactly what you said. You cleaned out the refrigerator today and there was a lot of gross stuff in it. But what am I supposed to say? ‘Yes’ and then you’ll get mad, or ‘no’ and then there’ll be more gross stuff in the fridge.”
Edited: because I forgot the add the part in italics. I had a really long day yesterday. 
Here’s the video (or diveo in Olivia-speak)clip.
Then she proceeded to cut all of her paper into very small pieces for almost an hour. I was a very proud mommy.
I live with my ideals plastered in the back of my mind for quick reference all the time. When I need to buy a new pair of shoes I think of all of my ideals: inexpensive, comfortable, stylish but not trendy, well made, etc. And then I do my best to find the pair of shoes that best represents the conglomeration of my ideals. Sometimes I can get all the ideals wrapped up into one. Sometimes I have to choose between affordability and well made, but in the end I feel like I can be proud of a shoe purchase, otherwise I wait until I can find the choice that better fits my needs.
I’m even worse with food. I have a LOT of ideals for my food purchases. I only feel good about eating at Chipotle and Aladdin’s because they have the healthiest options for the price. When I buy groceries I shop at the grocer that has done the most locally to build our community in terms of creating jobs and developing land responsibly. The food I buy is measured by the ideals of affordability, healthfulness, locally grown/processed, lack of non-food additives… OH, the list goes on and on.
I spend $4.35 for a half gallon of local non-homogenized whole-fat milk because I want the cows to be happy and it comes in rented and reused glass bottles instead of cartons. I skim the cream off the top to make butter.
Anyway, the point of this post is not to brag about how I live at a very high standard, or something. This post is because I have totally fallen flat on my face in regard to living up to my ideals for the past two weeks. Rob had been in Egypt on business since 2 Saturdays ago. We are running on auto-pilot. I have gotten my girls fast food 5 times in these two weeks. That’s more often that I have the whole year up to this point.
I am looking forward to Rob coming home, and I’m trying not to feel guilty that I am a failure at keeping up with me.
I need to get used to this. My standards are high, but God’s are higher. And if I can’t keep up with my own requirements, then what does that tell you about how I stand with God? Praise be to God that Jesus has worked all of this out for me. It frees me up to focus on loving my family, my neighbor, and the cows in Wooster that give our family its milk.
Olivia was rocking to sleep with Rob the other night when she said, “I love my little baby.”
Rob said, “Who’s your little baby?”
“Elise. I love my baby.” said Olivia again. “Soon she will learn to talk.”
“Yes she will learn to talk. When she gets bigger.”
To which Olivia replied, “She will say, ‘frisbee.’”
but the best mom for my kids? I hope that’s true.
I have a lot of childcare experience. I read too much about child rearing. I love staying home. But I am way too critical of myself.
Olivia is a handful, in a good way most of the time. But when she’s in her moods I don’t always know what to do. So I just do what I hope is the best in the moment, and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.
This is why they say the first child is an experiment… I hope I don’t accidentally blow her up.
Before you worry about our theology, note that this is Olivia’s imaginary game. It reminds me of the story that Jaqcue is always telling about Andy when he was a kid. How he’d pretend to be a pastor, or talk to God out loud in the bath tub.
Well, Olivia is at the stage where she loves to pretend to be everyone but herself. She is always playing that she is Papa, Tintin, Woody, a hunter or anything else from one of her stories. And she also plays “Pastor.” This game involves Olivia running around the house announcing, “I’m a Pastor. I baptize my pony.” It’s follows the same basic plot line as the hunter game, “I’m a hunter. I shoot the fearsome animal.” Both games require that she run around and yell this over and over again triumphantly like a superhero.
Olivia is also beginning to tell us this story:
“When I was born with Pastor Kozak he put some water on my head and I cried.”
or this story:
“Elise was born at church and Pastor Kozak poured water on her head.”
This was obviously very important to her. It’s fun to hear her perspective. She’s remarkable theologically accurate for a two and a half year old.
Tonight we started worshiping formally as a family after dinner. It is a little awkward at first, the standing and sitting and chanting in your own dining room. But after you get going, it feels very natural.
We are going to try to memorize the Vespers service from the old Lutheran Hymnal as a family so that we can say it together as we clean the kitchen, stopping only to read the particular collect and scripture for the day. I am certain that this will carve the liturgy into our children’s heads for life. And we will be so blessed to announce the Word to each other as a family every night.
Tonight we worshiped while Olivia ran around the living room begging to watch a “diveo” and Elise fell asleep in my arms. Then at the end of it all, Olivia was sad that she missed it (just like I anticipated she would be) and she pulled her pink rocking horse, Esther, into the dining room and asked if we could worship with Esther. So we said the Apostle’s Creed again while Liv rocked. She cracks me up!
is really striking. Olivia is a drive-by-fan of Elise. Olivia takes great pride in making Elise’s happy noise (an unvoiced, glottal fricative) and watching Elise light up. But Olivia is also very much into her own fantasies right now, and so a lot of her relationship with Elise is in watching how I take care of her and then mimicking that with her own babies. So, Elise is a round character in Olivia’s play, but it is still Olivia’s play in Olivia’s mind.
It is also Olivia’s play in Elise’s mind. If Olivia is in Elise’s line of sight nothing else can divert her attention. If Olivia can be heard in the room Elise is busy trying to find her. And Elise also has set herself upon the task of sitting up Read the rest of this entry »
Most people who know me know that my father adopted me when I was 2. I have always had my biological mother, so I wasn’t traditionally adopted, but I do know how it feels to love someone who is chromosomally different from me in every way as though we were flesh and blood.
I just got home from visiting my dad. We drove the three and a half hours to spend the weekend with him and my step-mom and her mother. On the road home, at 9:30pm, I brought up to Rob that I want to adopt our next child.
This went over like a ton of lead balloons. Not because Rob doesn’t want to adopt, but he’s so practical. Adoption is very practical, inasmuch as you have to actually apply and be accepted and adopt a real live child. Adoption is unlike pregnancy, in that it can absolutely never happen by accident. It can’t spring upon you when you’re not prepared. But if you only see it as a practical matter it would never happen. Much like you are never all the way ready for your first biological child, you can never be fully ready to adopt.
I, on the other hand, see adoption in a very (not to sound gnostic) spiritual way. I have a serious connection to a child who I will never carry, and likely does not yet exist. So to me all the practical things are just the hoops we’re going to jump in order to get to what Adoption really is, a child I somehow already love. Most people have no idea what that feels like.
It’s probably a good thing that we don’t see Adoption in exactly the same way. If it weren’t for my idealism it would never happen. And if it weren’t for Rob’s practicality we’d be head over heals with the process today, regardless of the fact we have a newborn and a toddler.
So. Now we’re talking about it. This is a break-through post for me. It’s something I am afraid to talk about, since once you start talking about something idealistic it becomes subject to reality and becomes something that might not happen. So I’m not going to go into to many details. But this might become a frequent topic for me as we explore the idea more as a family.
We’re getting our feet wet.
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