Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Overheard

Frankie: (singing) I am a child of God, and He has sent me here; Has given me an earthly home with parents kind and dear. Lead me, guide me, walk beside me, help me find the way. Teach me all that I LOVE YOU...

Asher: No! Teach me all that I'M A STEW...

Frankie: (skeptically) No...

Asher: Yeah, stew. It's like a soup.

Frankie: (shrugs) Teach me all that I'm a stew, to live with Him someday.
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Actual lyrics: Teach me all that I MUST DO, to live with Him someday.

Iraq-Iran

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Isn't he handsome?

Thursday, March 25, 2010

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Frankie has Celiac Disease.

Now how 'bout that, pictures and words. It's been a while, huh? I've been really busy throwing myself a formidable pity party. I hate to be a Debbie Downer (except I really don't, just ask Miss Gen) so I've thought long and hard about how to put a positive spin on all of this.

This nice old guy in Sunday School told me I have "End of the World Syndrome" (after I started bawling in response to his "hello, how are you?"). He was right of course. Sure, life without wheat, barley, oats, and rye takes some getting used to, but that's all. Just some getting used to.

And lucky for us I've got a few tricks up my sleeve! Like this one:

*Thai Noodles
(Serves 6-8)

8 oz Rice Vermicelli
1 cup Baby Corn Cobs
1 1/2 cups Carrots, shredded
1 Zucchini, coarsely shredded
1 1/2 cups Mung Bean Sprouts
2 cups Napa Cabbage, chopped
1/2 cup Cilantro, chopped
3-4 Green Onions, chopped
1-2 Tbs Fresh Garlic, minced
1 inch French Ginger Root, peeled and finely chopped
1/2 cup Vegetable Broth
1/3 cup Natural Peanut Butter
1/3 cup Honey
1/2 tsp Sesame Oil
1/4 cup Organic Tamari (wheat-free Soy Sauce)
2 Tbs Rice Vinegar
2 tsp Chili-Garlic Sauce (I LOVE Thai Kitchens Sweet Red Chili Sauce)

Cook noodles in boiling water for 2-3 minutes, drain, and set aside. Combine green onions, garlic, ginger, and vegetable broth in a non-stick skillet. Saute for 2-3 minutes, then add peanut butter, honey, sesame oil, soy sauce, rice vinegar, and chili garlic sauce. Whisk until smooth and heath thoroughly. Add noodles and remaining ingredients to the sauce and mix well. (I like to top it all off with a little more sweet chili sauce, 'cause it's just that good!)

These noodles are CRAZY delicious. See?

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a saucy post-op Asher doing well

*I didn't invent this.  I had the recipe scribbled in pencil in a notebook, but don't know its source.  If this is your recipe, thanks.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

What Shall We Name 'im?

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I love St. Patrick's Day. After all, Ireland itself is my namesake.

We write letters to friends (to celebrate the written word), go on a treasure hunt in search of the new shoes a sneaky leprechaun has cobbled for us, and I make corned beef with cabbage, colcannon, and Irish soda bread.

But not this year!

I dropped the ball. We even forgot to watch Darby O'Gill! Setting this creepy, albeit completely awesome, leprechaun on the kitchen window sill was about as far as I got in preparing for this year's festivities. He needs a name. Any ideas?

After dinner the kids played "hide the leprechaun" with Aunt Nat before going to bed because I had an appointment and left them mid-meal.

This morning I sent Asher to school with a Lunchables in his backpack. Yesterday it was a strawberry Uncrustables.

Lord help me keep my head above water until me-husband returns. (I totally typed that in my best Irish accent)

Monday, March 15, 2010

Literary Gangstas

Saw this guy,
sagging pants, shaved head, gold tooth,
checking out a fat copy of a book called HOMEBOYZ.

And that, my friends, is why I love the public library.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

That's My Girl

Opened my e-mail a few minutes ago to find this note from Jensie's teacher in my inbox:
Hi Erin!
I just wanted to share such a sweet experience that happened today with Jensie and Cate. Cate was very distraught about her uncle's health. Several things had reminded her of his illness and caused her sadness. Jensie had her hand on Cate's back, just soothing her with "It's okay, Cate. I've felt that way before..." and sharing her own experiences with Cate. She continued to comfort Cate until Cate could calm down.
I just thought you'd be so proud of her. It was so touching to see her compassion! Great job, Mom! I know she's learned this at home.:)
Have a great week!
Lisa

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Or Better Still

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I think what I love most about this one is that the only thing pictured that might actually be a part of the party is the 3rd ID patch. Everything else is just wishful thinking. Really wishful thinking.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Who's Up For a Little Pillow Fight?

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Your tax dollars hard at work, folks! 

Thursday, March 4, 2010

A Word of Advice

to everyone getting on my nerves:
Kindly refrain from insisting that I can't ride a bike everywhere. I can, and I will. If you actually think me incapable, you don't know me at all. I am not stupid. I know it will be hard. I know it will take some planning. I know it will be exhausting. I'm looking forward to it.

to that guy at the mall selling Dead Sea salt scrubs:
BACK OFF.

to Asher:
Grow. I am tired of buying wimpy baby clothes. Did you know that once you wear a size 5 T-Rex actually has pointy teeth? Seriously buddy, think about it.

That is all.

Looking Forward

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to a sweet Georgia summer.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

A Trace Williamson Original

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My brother, he makes me laugh.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

A Pinch to Grow an Inch

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turning 28 at the One World Cafe

I am twenty-eight. It's the end of an era. I've lived my first adult decade, and I've learned a thing or two. Take it from me:

Do travel the world.
Don't hire a travel guide.

Do learn a new language.
Don't be afraid to sound stupid (you totally do, no one cares).

Do spend money on decent hair cuts.
Don't spend money on designer clothing.

Do call.
Don't send an e-mail.

Do buy these.
Don't buy these.

Do wear makeup.
Don't cover up your freckles.

Do eat farm-raised fish.
Don't eat wild-caught fish.

Don't hire a contractor.
Do learn to use power tools.

Don't run red lights.
Should you run a red light...do wear new dress pants to court.

Do wear a mask to sleep (look like a diva but feel well rested)
Don't waste time with expensive eye creams.

Do kiss on the first date.
Don't play footsies (maybe, ever).

Monday, February 22, 2010

Happy Birthday Hijack

(LEGGNET.com photo)


Erin I love you like I love the mountains. The way I love you is hard to describe but also tangible and magnificent.

After our first date, we talked all night about everything, including our love of being outside. My first impression of you was so striking that I was hooked. Our saga started that night and holds too many tales to tell here.


Our story includes snow caves, home birth, 100 yr eggs, and war. Don't forget our Central America adventure together. You have endured being a single mom for about three of the eight years we have been married because of Army service. You amaze me with your solo-pregnant construction projects, your intelligence, and your activism.


When I think about why I love you and why our marriage is great, I think of your sense of adventure, your ambition, your values, and your dedication to me and to our kids. You are amazing and have been inspiring and challenging me for years and life keeps getting better.


Happy Birthday Erin. I love you. Nate.


Packing

The last time Nate was deployed I had the luxury of living in my own home, and could thus make improvements whenever it occurred to me to do so.

The other night a friend mentioned on Facebook that she was bored for the first time in a long time. Weird. Mind numbing boredom hits me like a brick every night just after the kids have fallen asleep. It's too early for me to go to bed myself, which also means it's too early to hope that I'll catch Nate online. He usually doesn't pop up until I'm about ready to pass out. So convenient, right? It's ok, I don't mind.

To stave off my boredom the last time around I painted my kitchen. Twelve times. Ceiling, trim, walls, cabinets, the whole shebang. Twelve times.

This time though, giving the cupboards a fancy face-lift isn't the answer. So instead, I am packing. Yes, re-packing the same boxes I only finished unpacking a month ago. There are lots of things I enjoy more than packing boxes, but I miss Georgia. Packing makes me feel like it's almost time to go back.

So many of our things are in storage at the moment that the house doesn't feel like home anyway. What good are a couple of throw pillows on the couch, when there are no pictures on the walls, rugs on the floor, or Nathans in your bed? By the time I'm through we should be down to just a couch, a few chairs, some dishes, and our clothes.

Am I crazy? Maybe. Am I busy? Absolutely.

Mission accomplished.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Me, I'm a Mormon

For the past four years I've slowly been making my way back to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. That is to say, the Mormons. Why I left in the first place is a long story, perhaps one for another day. This is a story of faith.

I hadn't set foot in a church house for several years when we moved to Columbus, GA and I found myself in a foreign land without a friend.

Just after we arrived I announced, "I'm going to church."

When Nate asked why, I told him simply, "Because I need a friend and I know someone there will be nice to me."


The people of the Bradley Park Branch did not disappoint. My first week there I was greeted by a gaggle of friendly Southern folk--warm hellos and an invitation to lunch from Amelia Hoggan (Frankie's namesake) dispelled all worries I'd had of being far from home.

So as not to mislead I was quick to inform those I met that I was "in-active" (our church's term for members that do not attend meetings regularly, makes sense right?) and not interested in doctrinal discussion or the bearing of my testimony. After all, honesty is the best policy.

"I only need a friend" I said. They rose to the challenge. Certainly they were being used, but as they'd been fore-warned I did not lose sleep over it.


Because they were kind, I kept showing up. I guess that's the way most friendships work, but it seems particularly key in the telling of my story, because while I attended meetings week after week I began to realize that many of the talks (our equivalent to sermons) left a lasting impression on my mind. Particularly those given on the subject of eternal families.

I love my family. More than anything. Mormons believe that families can be together forever. Isn't that great? I'd desperately like to keep mine. I decided that if all it took to get to "forever" was some good clean-living and a pair of magic underwear*, you could sign me up. A life without coffee is a small price to pay for eternal exaltation with your hubby by your side.

As eager as I was to jump on that glory wagon, a few nagging questions, held me back again and again. Many were answered quickly and reasonably--even those pertaining to polygamy and priesthood authority, but the question of why we (as a church) don't support same-sex marriage was not such a one.

"The Family: A Proclamation to the World" was first introduced to the members of the church by President Gordon B Hinckley in 1995. Since then, it has served as our creed. In clear concise language the proclamation spells out exactly what it is we believe about Eternal families. Members are encouraged to to "hold fast to this great proclamation, to make it a banner... and to commit ourselves to live by its precepts."

The proclamation states:
"Husband and wife have a solemn responsibility to love and care for each other and for their children. “Children are an heritage of the Lord” (Psalm 127:3). Parents have a sacred duty to rear their children in love and righteousness, to provide for their physical and spiritual needs, and to teach them to love and serve one another, observe the commandments of God, and be law-abiding citizens wherever they live. Husbands and wives—mothers and fathers—will be held accountable before God for the discharge of these obligations."
Do I agree? Yes, I do.

"All human beings—male and female—are created in the image of God. Each is a beloved spirit son or daughter of heavenly parents, and, as such, each has a divine nature and destiny. Gender is an essential characteristic of individual premortal, mortal, and eternal identity and purpose."

Right? Of course right.

"The family is ordained of God. Marriage between man and woman is essential to His eternal plan. Children are entitled to birth within the bonds of matrimony, and to be reared by a father and a mother who honor marital vows with complete fidelity. Happiness in family life is most likely to be achieved when founded upon the teachings of the Lord Jesus Christ. Successful marriages and families are established and maintained on principles of faith, prayer, repentance, forgiveness, respect, love, compassion, work, and wholesome recreational activities. By divine design, fathers are to preside over their families in love and righteousness and are responsible to provide the necessities of life and protection for their families. Mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children. In these sacred responsibilities, fathers and mothers are obligated to help one another as equal partners. Disability, death, or other circumstances may necessitate individual adaptation. Extended families should lend support when needed."
Fidelity? Check.

Providing fathers? Check.

Nurturing mothers? Check.

But "Marriage between man and woman"...only? This is where things get a little if-fy for me.

Christ told us to love everyone. It's pretty cut and dried, and definitely all-inclusive, which is why I've had a hard time wrapping my head around the idea of any exclusive clauses. We love you, but...no.

Growing up, I lived next door to a girl named Sarah**. She was anything but pretty and struggled in school because of severe learning disabilities. About a year after Nate and I were married, Sarah was engaged to a really nice guy. He committed suicide the day before their wedding.

Last summer, I called my dad in tears, demanding that he drop everything and explain to me how God could make someone gay (yes, I believe you can be born gay) and then refuse to let them be a part of His true church. (Says me.) My dad gave some standard Sunday School answer about how we don't know everything God intends for us to experience in this life, and how some people suffer trials that others don't.

He accused me of judging God.

"Because it's not fair." I wailed.

And my dad, my patient intelligent dad, replied. "You tell me how it's fair that you get to be six feet tall and beautiful with a man who loves you, and Sarah gets to be dumb and ugly her whole life."

You know dads, they don't mince words.

It has taken me a year, a whole year, to admit that my dad was absolutely right.

I don't know what's going on inside our Heavenly Father's head. I hate the idea that love might not be just love, and that all love is not created equal. Life's not fair and I don't know why.

When I left the church I decided that if I didn't believe the church was true, there probably wasn't a God either. After Jensie was born though, as I laid her down into her crib for the night I would often think to myself Watch over her. Keep her safe while I sleep.

I began to wonder Who am I talking to? I realized then that even if I didn't really know there was a God, I hoped more than anything that He was out there somewhere.

Several times, often through music and during sweet still moments with my beautiful children, I've felt impressed that there really is a God, who loves me and is indeed watching over my sweet babes as I've asked.

And so, as I type this, I put the last of my fears and questions behind me. I trust that God knows the things which I can't yet hope to understand. I apologize for my hypocrisies and shortcomings, but I can no more apologize for my faith, than I can deny it.

I'm back. And I believe.

*Magic Underwear- to my knowledge, not actually magic.
**I changed her name. You know why.