If only I lived in a shoe.

I have never felt so old. I had worship/music/praise team (whatever, I went to sing my little heart out to Jesus) practice tonight.

Moment of oldness 1: So this 12 yr old drummer is playing with us for a couple of songs this week. He's really very good. He's introduced, he's going to play with us, I say, "Rock on!" He looks at me like I'm his Grandma. I mean, I'm hoping he was just really nervous, because he never did seem comfortable, but the look he gave me was sort of like, "You're kidding, right? Rock on? Tell me you're kidding." Newsflash to myself: I am not the recent college grad on the team anymore. I am a mom figure.

Moment of oldness 2: So I'm stepping down from the platform (I don't like to call it a stage, but that's what it's like). Just walking down 3 steps like a normal person. My knee pops. It hurts bad. The pain goes away, but now when I try to walk like a normal person, my knee gives out. It's like it popped out but never back in where it's supposed to go. If I straighten my leg, it feels like my kneecap is not there it belongs. I probably won't be able to exercise anymore, or I'll have to modify things. I'll probably have to get a knee brace -- not even for sports -- just to wear, everyday that I want to walk across the room.

Moment of oldness 3: I get headaches with changes in barometric pressure.

Moment of oldness 4: Sometimes at lunch I enjoy watching CNN.

Moment of oldness 5: It's 10 p.m., and I'm exhausted.

Moment of oldness 6: I would not give up my minivan for any other car.

Moment of oldness 7: I complain about gas prices.

Moment of oldness 8: I discuss driving routes. "We took Highway 55 instead of the freeway today..."

Moment of oldness 9: My right wrist has hurt since Natalie was born (she turns 3 in a month). I can't do a pushup, because I can't hold myself up on that hand. Not that I want to do pushups, I'm just saying it's irritating.

Moment of oldness 10: 30 is only 47 days away.

Premonitions

I used to think it'd be fun to see what my girls will be like when they're older. What kind of teenagers will they be (so frightening)? What will they look like?

Now I'm realizing, I'm looking at it. Ella has new pj's. They're stripey pants with a raglan t shirt. So she'll wander out anywhere from 7:45 to 9 in the morning. Hair everywhere, totally groggy. She plops herself down and watches a show.

Lately when something upsets Natalie, she hangs her head down, and walks briskly to her room. She shuts the door, sits on the edge of her bed, feet on the floor and cries.

Today I checked my email and sighed -- more changes to make on a job. Ella asked me what was wrong. "Oh nothing -- Mommy just has more work to do." So she asked me how much work it was. I said about 20, since I have about 20 things to get done. "Ugh...that will take a long time." Such a little grownup.

Their teenage years will come too fast for me anyway, but I'm really struck after this weekend with how old they seem, as we approach 3 & 5. I'm praying for the presence of mind to enjoy what I've got when I've got it. It will be on to the next before I know it.

In case I never write it anywhere else...

Cute things the girls have been saying lately:

Natalie had me put a toy back together for her. "Is it good as new, Mommy?"

While watching Ella's new favorite show, American Gladiators, with both blue teams winning Ella says, "Mom, I guess it's a tough day for red."

"I want the jammies with covers on them." Natalie referring to footie pj's.

"I want a helmet on it." Natalie asking for a lid on the straw cup.

Reading Winnie the Pooh, Natalie says, "Look Mommy! It's Christmasfor Robin!"

Ella: "Is it Valentime's Day yet?"

Like elephants

I grow increasingly surprised at the memories of these two small girls. Lately there's been a lot of talk of every hotel trip we've ever taken. "Remember, we slept in the bunkbeds, and we swam in the pool?" "Remember, we took our floaties?" They are terribly fond of starting and ending stories with "Remember?"

I remember visiting Grandma & Papa when they lived in Batavia. We went to a mall that had a merry-go-round in it. Months later we went to the mall again, and Ella says, "Is this the mall with the merry-go-round?" We'd been to malls around here inbetween, and she never asked it then. She was 2 at the time. She also remembers which ones have little potties.

Out of nowhere one of them will start in, "Remember, Mom, you were gone, and we were under a blanket with Daddy outside, and we watched the fireworks?" Um, yes, that was last summer.

If I tell the girls we're going to Grandma's house, but we take a different route, Ella pipes up in the back seat "Where are we going??? This isn't the way to Grandma's!" She also remembers how to get to church, Target and Sharon's (where she gets her hair cut).

Here's the kicker. Last night Natalie (2, remember?) says to Daddy, "Daddy, remember I was scared of Chacha the frog, and the big snake, and we saw Sharkey the Shark?" It took us a second to figure out what she'd said it was so random. And yes, that was a trip we took to the very big mall, last July, when we went to Underwater World and Rainforest Cafe. We haven't talked about Sharkey or Chacha since. Six months later the 2 yr old is talking about it again. I don't even think there'd been anything frog, snake or shark related to jog her memory.

There's just no easy outs with these girls. They'll remember if you say "we'll do ____ later." I hope all of this memory work translates to school. I can see it now, "Remember, the Magna Carta was originally issued in 1215 by the English and influenced the development of common law. Remember that it was written because of disagreements between Pope Innocent III, King John and the English barons regarding the rights of the king? Remember that???"

An update on that procrastinating issue.

I'm sure I've mentioned, but Ella's in dance. And I maybe mentioned when she performed for the first time (two dances for the grandmas & grandpas at a nursing home), I was at my mother's cutting her no-hem pants with an hour to showtime.

Tonight, weather permitting, Ella will dance at halftime of the high school basketball game. She is to wear her poodle skirt. The one that's too big. The one I need to somehow fix so it's not so big. It's 1 p.m. We need to be there at 7. I need to give her a bath in order to do her hair. I have some work to get done as well. I'm just pointing out that I don't seem to be heading down a better path than last time.

Of course, living in the frozen tundra of Minnesota, it's possible there won't be a game. It was -10 when I checked at 9 this morning, and -34 with windchill. The opposing team is coming from 1 1/2 hrs away. Perhaps they'll decide they'd rather not come. I'm not sure what to wish for at this point. Their dance class is so cute, it'd be fun to watch. But it's also going to be insanely cold, and staying home under blankets with tea in hand holds some allure.

In any case, I'd best do something about that skirt because if it falls down around her ankles it may be the end of dance class. She has already asked if everyone watching the game is going to laugh at them. I think I managed to explain that yes, people might laugh a little -- but just because they think they're so cute. Did I mention home ec was not my strongest class?

Home vs. Away

There are two types of people living in this house. The travelers (Ella and I) and the homebodies (Brennan and Natalie). I'm not sure if Natalie will stay a homebody. Right now it seems like she just doesn't really care if she stays home or goes somewhere. All summer long Ella's first words every morning were "Mom, where are we going today?" And if I replied "Today you get to stay home and play with your toys," I would get "But, Mom, I'm not sick," in response.

I can understand Brennan's point of view. He's gone all day. Lately he's been gone some long hours. He's out amongst grown ups all day. Even when he gets home he's had to pull out the laptop after the girls go to bed, and reply to emails or work on documents. So I can see wanting to come home and relax. If you're on the move all day, you probably don't feel like taking a spontaneous road trip.

The travelers in the house are getting a trip itch. It's winter in Minnesota, and however mild it has been, we're still getting a little stir crazy. Case in point, yesterday Ella says, "Mom, remember when we stayed at the hotel, and brought our floaties, and swam in the pool? That was fun." This morning she says to Grandma as I'm dropping them off for my much needed Thursday, "Grandma, we stayed in a hotel, and swam in the pool, and it had a twisty slide, and I went down it with Mommy." Natalie announces she was too scared to go down the twisty slide. All true. And the trip she speaks of was one to the Dells. In October of 2006. Over a year ago. Then she says, "And one time, we stayed in bunk beds." Yup. That was this past July. She'll also still occasionally bring up driving to Florida with Grandma, Mom and Natalie. That was over Natalie's first birthday. Ella wasn't even 3 yet.

Growing up my parents owned a weekly newspaper, and they couldn't travel together. Someone had to stay to make sure the paper got out every week. Which meant I often got double the vacations. Out to Boston with Mom. Skiing with Dad. Drive out to Wyoming with mom, and on the weekend Dad would come and Mom would go back. I almost wonder if this is in our future. If the homebodies will stay home, and the travelers will travel. Maybe once the girls are a little older, and Brennan's work isn't so demanding, we'll settle in to a few more trips. Or maybe, Ella and I will road trip to an ocean. It's not that we need to go to Europe, or see anything in particular. Sometimes we just need to get out of Dodge, and get a change of scenery for a bit.

For now we'll look for some balance. Take an extra trip to Target or the mall. I'll look at ticket prices for Seattle, and research hotel prices in Duluth or the Dells. It's like window shopping. Look forward to a trip to Wyoming in June with my family (which Brennan is hopefully able to break away for, not sure yet). We'll get there.

It's all in the attitude

Luke 1

Lately I've been wondering about Zechariah and Mary. With a quick read, it seems like they're both questioning the angel Gabriel. But Zechariah is rendered unable to speak, and Mary is called blessed. I'm sure this is something everyone else has noticed, but there is a difference in their attitudes. What Zechariah essentially says is, "Seriously? Prove it." But Mary says, "How does that work? Ok, I will trust God." It's not the question of how that gets Zechariah in a little trouble, it's the doubt. Before I can even work on having Mary's attitude, I need to get to the place where I'm really listening to God. I need to be able to hear His voice.

I am absolutely in awe of Mary. I haven't seen her the same way since I became a mother. I can't imagine if God sent an angel to me, promising to bring me a scandal, changing everyone's view of me, and turning the life I thought I would have upside down, that I would respond the same way. She is able to focus on God's will, and what will bring Him glory. Historically I understand that Mary was probably much younger than me, but must have also been much more mature in her faith. I pray that in whatever God would have me do, I am able to say, "I am the Lord's servant. May it be to me as you have said."

Merry Christmas -- and may you find Christ at the center of it all.

Not surprised

Brennan showed me this story this morning, and it's too good not to share. First, look at the front page photos. The top photo is a cheery decorating for Christmas pic. Below it is a man caught on surveillance. Notice anything odd? Then click the link for the story below.





http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2007/12/13/ap/strange/main3617688.shtml

That will be one chicken and a bag of corn please...

Natalie had her 2 yr appointment today. Yes, I am aware of the fact that she is 2+8 months old. Thank you for the gentle reminder. She was the ultimate patient. She headed straight for the scale, kicked off her boots and climbed on. She let the nurse get her height. She sat still as could be while the nurse took her temp and listened to her heart. I was so relieved.

Then Dr. S came in (FYI, Dr. S was my pediatrician as well), and I was reminded why I live in a small town. As he's running down the list of potential "environmental risks", he sort of skips over and answers for himself the "does anyone smoke" and "are there any guns in the house." He gets to lead, and I say I don't think so. "Well, I don't think there would be in your house." Because he knows where I live, and around what time the houses here were built. Then I tell Natalie we'll have to drive by Dr.S's fabulous Christmas lights soon. "Actually, I didn't have time to put them up this year." "What???" I say. For as many years as I can remember his house has been on our personal drive-by light tour. "I know. I've heard about it. Someone complained to Wife at the grocery store."

At this point, Dr. S starts asking about her developmental progress. Does she string 2 or 3 words together? "You mean like 'Ella's being so fwustwating?', yes." So I'm all proud of my brilliant child. He asks Natalie if she likes to talk. And my perfect patient gets down on the floor and starts hopping like a bunny. Then a frog. Then she starts crawling and barks like a puppy. I guess I'll hold off on Mensa testing for now. But perhaps it's time for acting classes.

The nurse came back then and gave Natalie a flu shot in her thigh. It was over before she knew what hit her, and she just whimpered a little -- sort of in shock. The nurse chuckled as Natalie limped out of the room. Yes, perhaps acting classes are in order.

I'm already sort of dreading Ella's 4 yr appointment next week. And yes, I'm aware she is 4 1/2. I'm doing my best here. She has already announced that she will not be having any shots like Natalie.

A post worth sharing

This concept seems a little foreign to me, but I have started reading the blogs of people I don't even know. It seems really weird, because I think of my blog as sharing with people who know me. But a good writer is a good writer, and worth reading. This was a link shared by one of those blogs, and it just seemed to good not to share in this season of excess.