Tiny Earthquakes

Soundtrack: "Thank You" by Alanis Morrisette and "The Valley Song" by Jars of Clay

People may wonder why I suddenly found the ability to update my blog, after a 4 month hiatus. Truth is, I can't sleep - and it's not for the primary reason that one would think. Yes, I do have a 3 1/2 week old daughter who is up every 3 hours. And, I certainly realize that I should be taking every free moment that's given to me and hit any horizontal surface that is within falling distance, but I feel compelled to blog in a way that I haven't in a long time and, well...well, see point above about not being able to sleep.

Is there such a thing as a tiny earthquake? I mean, is that possible? Is there such a thing? (Hang with me here for a bit...it will make sense in a bit, I hope.) Is there an event that, upon happening, is so mundane and miniscule that you don't recognize its impact until much later, when it's revealed that that one small change - that one small weft in the weave of our life - has ultimately, in its seemingly unimportant impact, shattered everything that we've believed up to that point to be true, and set us on a completely different path than we envisioned?

Yes. There is such a thing. And boy, as someone who's experienced such a thing, do they ever stink. All the way around.

Years ago, I used to hate late nights when the house was quiet. Usually, those quiet late nights were spent wondering, worrying and doubting. But now, it's a different story. There is a sense of peace in the middle of the night for me now. And here I sit tonight: one Bear-dog at the foot of our bed, feet twitching as he dream-chases God-knows-what; one curly, blonde-haired 23 month old sprawled out in her oh-so-big toddler bed - paci being chewed and Baxter bunny dutifully under her arm; and, one husband snoring fitfully beside me - with our newest daughter asleep on his chest.

As I write this, and stare at her little cupid mouth and grin with amazement that his snoring hasn't woken her in an hour, my heart is in conflict. I am thankful for what I now have, but feel guilty for making comparisons of what I didn't have before. In my mind, it's almost like blasphemy for me to even think about the past - probably because it makes me feel like I'm tainting my new life just by acknowledging that my past existed.

But, I've been thrown back into memories of my own tiny earthquakes by being pulled into the aftershocks of someone I love dearly's own realization of how devastating tiny earthquakes are.

My heart is broken by association. Yes, it's possible. I doubted that is was before, but now I am certain it is possible.

I am torn. I cry for what is happening, but want to fast forward, (like a really bad Ghost of Christmas Future) and show this person how, despite the pain I endured to get here, I wouldn't change one thing about how things played out. Because all of those tiny earthquakes - they all led me here: to this beautiful quiet middle of the night, where I can finally - finally - smile with true happiness and a fullness that only contentment can bring - instead of feeling alone and left with questions and doubt.

:::Thanks for hanging with me this far - I am coming full circle, I promise:::

Here's my message in the stillness: regardless of how wrong it feels now, I promise you that it is part of His plan, and the future will be more than you ever imagined it could be. It is His ring of fire, and to walk through it...it's worth it.

Believe me.

Speaking of getting old...

(Soundtrack: "Yeah" - Usher)

:::Note - turn off the Playlist for this one - Video with sound below:::

So, I mentioned in my last post that my dearest hubby didn't have such a good time in the snow. Well, the poor man went out Tuesday evening, tripod and 'good' camera in hand, to try and get some nice pictures of our house in the evening light, blanketed in snow (cue movie-like music here for mood). Unfortunately, he ended up slipping on the newly-formed ice in the driveway, and fell right on his back. Yuk. You know how this story ends. So he is now nursing a bruised back, and quite frankly (just the outside 'wifely' opinion, of course) his ego, too. If a young'un slips and falls onto his back, usually it's a bruise, and nothing that one Icy-Hot patch and a dose of Tylenol won't cure. ::Ahem:: Well, I guess that's a definitive sign of getting older: start looking into Long-Term Care Insurance when the Icy-Hot and dose of Tylenol don't work for the 3rd or 4th time, and you start walking with a slight limp.

I bring all of this up because, in the midst of this defining moment in our aging process, and the realization that the "old gray mare ain't what he used to be", my husband still has a sense of humor that reminds me that growing old with him by my side is going to be hysterical.

So picture this: we're driving along in the car yesterday on the way back from lunch. Getting into his car was a bit of a task for Christian, given the back situation and all, and he's talking - scratch that - moaning about his back hurting. And, at that moment, "Yeah" by Usher comes on the radio.

Christian immediately reaches to turn the song up full-blast. (Sidenote: this is why we are so perfect for each other - we both love to listen to songs at high decibel levels, and our hearing loss down the road will probably be the reason for our continued union through the years - HA!) He turns to me, shimmy-ing in his seat and doing the white-man head bob as he says "I used to rock this out in the clubs. The ladies LOVED me." He turned and grinned at me - I swear, he practically gave me the Carlton "Wink & The Gun".

And all of a sudden, this is what popped into my mind, and I laughed hysterically along with him:


I was crying I was laughing so hard by the time I got out of the car. He was sheepishly grinning and going "What? What?? I'm serious!!"

Oh yeah, getting old with Christian by my side is going to be fun - I am certain that there will never be a dull moment. We are SO going to be 'those people' - and I'm looking forward to EVERY minute of it!

Lots of love,
Kristen

Snow Day!

(Soundtrack: "Snow" - Red Hot Chili Peppers)

Yesterday was fantastic! It snowed here, and as anyone who has lived in NC can attest, it's a miracle when we get what is considered one Good Snow a year ("Good Snow" def: no work, no school, enough snow to safely make SnowCream and a full-on 3-ball snowman without twigs scattered throughout; usually occurs once every 5-7 years in Raleigh).

Brennan had an absolute blast after we finally convinced her that going outside would be fun. The morning hours went something along the lines of this:

Me: Brenn, honey! Look at the snow!!

Brennan: Snnnoooooowwwww :::pointing feverishly out the window:::

Me: That's right! It's snow! Don't you want to go outside and play in the snow?

Brennan: :::snapping head around with one eyebrow raised like Christian and I have totally lost our minds::: No!

Christian: But, Munchkin, it's fun! Look how much fun the other children are having :::pointing out window to the neighborhood kids sledding down the street past our window:::

Brennan: :::shaking head::: No! No! No!

So, being the 'good' parent that I am, and realizing that my picture-taking-window-of -opportunity to capture our first-born's first 'playable' snow moment EVER was quickly diminshing, I did what every rational mom would do: I bundled her up and took her outside anyway, reasoning with myself that she just didn't know what she was missing. And gosh darnit! I needed pictures for her baby book. (I mean, c'mon - how would I have answered that question 13 years down the road: "Mom? Why are MY first ever snow pictures from last year?" Again, work with me people! Oh for pete's sake - see above's aforementioned definition of Good Snow. Anyway...)

And, the first 'intuitive-parenting-child-decision-override' was a success. (Yay, me!) She absolutely loved it, and when I had to force her to come back in, I got the wailing tantrum, complete with the Gator Death Roll. I'm such a mean mommy. ; ) But hey, I got my pictures, and our little munchkin learned that snow isn't such a bad thing.

Buuutttt...I wish I could same the same for my darling hubby. But that's another story for another time. Stay tuned. ; )

Lots of love, Kristen

We interrupt your normally scheduled programming...

(Soundtrack: "Closer" - Ne-Yo)

I'm going to divert from the typical family newsy-blog theme for a bit.

Lately, I've been feeling old. Very old. Yep, I said it. OLD. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I'm starting to 'creak' every morning as I roll out of bed (yes, at 5 months pregnant, I am required to roll now). Or maybe it has something to do with reuniting with people of Facebook and seeing pictures of people that I drank, laughed, partied and generally "acted a fool" with proudly displaying the most tame-looking husbands, children, houses, etc. and all I can think is "I'm too young to be this responsible." (I mean, there's not a single beer-raised, open-mouthed 'woo-hoo' scream on anyone in any of those FB pics...). Or perhaps it has something to do with the exercise I go through every morning to try and find something on the radio, and I find myself having to tune to "80s on 8", "90s on 9" or "Hair Nation" on my XM, because I don't recognize any songs on the Top 20 stations anymore; and, if I do, all I can think about is how my daughter can't listen to THAT! (Supa-man, anyone??)

I admit. I've tried to stay sassy. But lately, I've been wondering if I was starting to look like the women that I used to make fun of in high school. You know the ones - they were the ones who would show up to the football games to cheer on their kids wearing clothes that were just a day shy of Contempo Casual's latest best-seller (admit it, girls - you remember Contempo!), driving up with the radio blaring the latest Motley Crue hit, and all you could think was..."Give it up, lady. Let it go. Embrace Lionel Richie and your Dockers. For the love of God, please stop making a fool of yourself and just act your age."

And I, for awhile, had believed that I had permanently crossed over that rainbow bridge that was my youth.

But, just as soon as I felt the doom of middle age begin to set in, and as I was resigningly tuning my XM towards my old standby stations, I found a song that stopped me in my tracks. A song that, in spite of its new-fangled hip-hop rhythm, made me feel 17 again (and no, it wasn't Depeche Mode or Duran Duran). And I rolled down my windows and turned up the heat (just like I used to in high school) and turned up the radio as loud as my aging ears would allow. And poof! I was wrinkle-free and fearless again. And I'm sharing it with you on my playlist -
rock out if you will, my friends, then, to "Closer".

What's so special about it? I have no clue. In fact, I'm not quite sure I have even figured out half the words. But there's a beat in it that pulls me back from the brink of a permanent wardrobe from Lands End and Coldwater Creek, makes me smile and makes me look forward to the days ahead in the 'twilight' of my 30s. So I creak a little. (Eh.) So I get totally tipsy after 2 beers now. (So what? I'm a cheap date.) So I can listen to the Dr. Feelgood CD on repeat and still sing every word. (At least I know my memory isn't failing- yet!)

Hmmm...maybe the 30s ARE the new 20s. Look for me on the road - I'll be the one flipping between Ne-Yo and New Order. Holla! ;)

Luv,
Kristen