Well, poop!

I just got home after spending a great afternoon catching up with a friend to find a very unjoyful smell in my house.

I don't want to embarrass her, but Mocha's been having some behavioral issues the past few weeks, manifesting through finding items to chew up. So far the casualties have been; two rolls of ribbon, a roll of painter's tape, tissue from a gift bag, the little box of candy I brought home from a baby shower, a paint stick, several pens, a piece of the neighbor's mail and last night, a CD liner and case. At least she's honest about it and always leaves her doings in the middle of the living room carpet. We think she must be getting anxious about the impending addition to our lives and other big changes coming, because she hasn't done this sort of thing at all until about two months ago. Anyway, after cleaning up the shattered CD case last night, we were talking about how at least she's not using the bathroom inside as we've heard some anxious dogs do.

Well, I take that back now. She's very fortunate I love my husband, that's all I'm going to say. Anyway, this is the month I'm posting about choosing joy, so onward we go with the previously scheduled joy finds.

We took our childbirth class on Saturday, choosing to go with a six-hour "express" class rather than drag it out over a few weeks. I think the instructor did a great job covering a massive amount of material. In a class of 10 couples, we were due the soonest and also the only ones who were waiting to find out the gender. Except for us (but maybe including us?), the class fell right into the statistic of this being the year of the boy. The instructor said 2010 was the highest rate (by a big margin, like 80:20) of boy conception that she'd ever seen and the trend had been consistent all year. She told the 2 couples expecting girls to go ahead and get the shotguns now, because there might be a shortage in a few years!


There was a stack of little footstools on the materials table, which she explained were available for us and our swollen ankles (fortunately, I haven't experienced this yet, but I still partook!). The joy here was in watching the daddies get up one by one throughout the first hour and grab the stools for their baby mammas. (And yes, those are my charity:water TOMS, which I love and are no longer available this time around.)

Since we're on the topic of shoes, here's the next joy. John got on a shoe-polishing kick this weekend, during which I learned something new about him. He told me he used to earn extra money in boot camp by polishing the other soldier's boots. This didn't surprise me, as he used to polish my black boots back when the Air Force uniform included them, and they always received compliments on their shine. I knew I married well, but come on, I got a guy who can shine shoes AND is super cute to boot! I'm so blessed!

 These are the socks my sister and I wait all year to wear. (We're half Jewish, you know) She's showing her's off with her Christmas tree, and I was trying to get a shot of the Cowboys winning in the background of mine, but it didn't turn out well. (I mean, they won, but the picture wasn't good.)

Now, this was a really joyful find. See the little metal stick with the ring on top? That is a cake tester from Pampered Chef that I thought I'd lost. Pampered Chef makes a lot of great tools, but some are really unnecessary. Most people test their baked goods by sticking a knife or a toothpick in them, and that works just fine. But I just love this little tool because it doesn't leave a gaping hole in the item and is easy to just wipe off and have ready for the next use. I was looking for a replacement tester and found out Pampered Chef doesn't make them anymore. Sadness. Then, I found mine. Joy!

Here's what I was baking that I needed the tester for. I was excited to use this recipe for Chai Latte Cupcakes posted by my high school best friend, Sommer, for a sweet treat at the Women's Advent service at my church. It was so fun to bring these cute, unique and tasty treats, and plug my Pampered Chef items as well (I sell Pampered Chef, so I like to talk about it!). For these, I used the mini-muffin tin to bake them (in the above picture), easy accent decorator to, um, decorate them, and the rectangle cranberry platter to serve them. Joy is easy to share when it looks this good!

Speaking of the Advent service, that was an AMAZING time of blessing and joy. After enjoying the delicious spread of savory and sweet items, we gathered in the candlelit sanctuary for a service of songs, Scripture and poetic readings, dance and a testimony. Can you guess the theme this year? Joy. Of course.

I was asked to do one of the poetic readings, and while practicing at home, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be able to get through the whole thing without a few breaks for drying tears. Here's the poem I was assigned (and Joy #14):

Participating in the service was another joy!

The First Coming

by Madeleine L’Engle

He came

            Throwing off glory

            Like fiery suns

            Leaving power behind

            Leaving the storms of hydrogen clouds,

            The still-forming galaxies,

            Totally vulnerable

            As he emptied himself

She took him in-

            Into the deepest part of her being;

            She contained the tiny Word

            Smaller than the smallest

            Subatomic particle

            Growing slowly

            From immortality into mortality,

            Mother and child

            Together in the greatest act of love

            The Maker could give the made

Together they created

            Immortality from mortality

            How? His father was Who?

He looked like any child

            From the vulnerable top

            Of his tiny skull

            To the little curling toes

This whispered Word made

            The sun and stars,

            Wind and water,

            Planets and moons, and all of us

            But he left this joy

            To be

God With Us!

            Understanding lowly shepherds

            And two old people in the Temple.

            Later three wise men-

            One from each human race-

            Came, pondering.

            Most of the powerful people

            Were skeptical at best

            God become Son of Man? Nonsense.

Christ will come,

            Expected or unexpected,

            When God is ready,

            Even while we are loudly demanding

            Signs and proofs

            Which close our hearts and minds

            To the Wildness of Love

Word of Love,

            Enter our hearts

            As you entered the virgin’s womb.

            Come, Lord Jesus!

I actually made it through the actual reading with only a little throat clenching on my part, but got some tears out of some others! Oh, to be able to write poetry like that!

Tonight we're working on what I hope will be Joy #16. Stay tuned!

Mocha's big move

My dog is moving to another country next year. She doesn't know it yet, so if you promise not to spoil the surprise, I'll tell you how this big move came about.

A few months ago, we learned that John's job was going transfer him overseas for a year. A year that would start a month or so after our baby was due.

We'd known since he took this job, he would be eligible for world-wide reassignment. It's a big world that includes where we live now, hundreds of countries, and a few places where people go for a year without their families.

Before we were pregnant, it was always my plan that if he ever got one of those "solo" assignments, I'd find a way to go "with" him, or at least go somewhere at the same time, whether in a military deployment or working for an NGO.

As it turns out, he will be going to one of those few places I can't go with him. Or "with" him.

Since I'm not trying to have my blog show up in any crazy internet searches, I'll tell you this way. It starts with P and ends with tan. Let's call it P-tan.

Honestly, I was jealous before I was sad, because I can't go. I'm the one who read the Greg Mortenson books first and wanted to jump on a plane and go help over there. I have a genetically inherited wanderlust and have wanted to live in that region since I was 17, when I first visited (a different country) and fell in love with it.

But he's going and I'm not. I'm having a baby. A much prayed-for, long-awaited, precious, miraculous baby. And that baby's first year is going to be way different that our dreams of it would have determined.

Of course, we've had time to process this and we're dealing with it pretty well. We've cried a lot. (Mostly me). We've questioned our decisions, we've questioned "God's timing," we've sought wise counsel, we've prayed and cried some more. We've talked to people who have done this. (Lots of people have done this, like thousands of troops deployed for the past several years. What a proud company of sacrifice for us to be joining!) We've gotten amazing support from our families and friends.

Remember my blog about our bed? This is what I was setting you up to tell you. We believe God has been preparing us for this since before we met. He gave us a thirst for adventure, a love for travel and a desire to live in and raise our kids in awareness and appreciation for foreign cultures. He wove something into the DNA of our relationship that has enabled us to endure, thrive and grow as a couple during our separations.

When we started dating two months before I left the country for a year, we knew that something in the separation was necessary for us to be the couple God intended us to be. And even through many tears and questions now, I believe the same thing. There is some reason, a good purpose, that our family will be shaped in this unique way.

We know it's going to be tough, but here are some of the perks we're focusing on now:
-We'll be together for the birth and the first 6 weeks afterwards. Huge perk considering how many dads in uniform watch their children's births over the internet or not at all.

-He will get three 3-week vacations during the year. That, plus the 6 weeks he's taking off after the baby is born, is almost four months off! He wouldn't get that much time off if we were staying here or going somewhere together.

-He would probably have to do an assignment like this at some point in his career. To be able to get it done in the year Blueberry won't even know he's gone is really a blessing. I can't imagine how much harder it would be a few years down the road with older/more kids.

-In my mind, P-tan is by far the best of the few of the places he could go by himself. The U.S. has had a presence there since 1947, and where he'll be working is huge, safe and well-equipped. Plus, he's super excited about the work he gets to do.

-He will have an advantage for his next assignment, which will of course include me and Blueberry!

-He gets to take Mocha! This is going to be great for all of us. I can't imagine trying to care for a new baby and a very active, needy dog in the winter, by myself. He will have a piece of home with him and his second biggest fan greeting him every day when he's done with work. He even met someone who's going there soon and is taking their lab and they've already agreed to take turns dog-sitting while the other is on vacations. And since Mocha's life revolves around John and food, she'll be as happy as a dog can be.

As for me, I'll be ok. I'll have a baby. I'll spend some time with my families in Texas and Oklahoma. I'll do some traveling. I'll get three 3-week vacations with my husband. I'll cry. I'll write. I'll take hundreds of pictures. I'll get comfortable on video chats. I'll learn and be stretched and grow (and hope to shrink a little bit, too!) in ways I never could've imagined.

I'm counting this a joy, not because it makes me happy and not because it will be so much fun, but because James 1:2-4 tells me to count trials (which I'm pretty sure this counts as) as joy because the testing of my faith produces patience, and patience has a perfect work to do, which will leave me lacking nothing. I think I'm going to need all of that for this next year!

(Oh, and you know I love comments, but please remember comments are searchable too!)

Joy Patrol

If you saw yesterday's post, you know that I'm finding and writing about 100 Joys this month. Here's what I found today.


My church has a women's group that meets on Thursday mornings. It's called Generation to Generation (G2G), and it's awesome. We have a number of moms that attend, but it's not a moms' group. It's exactly what it sounds like - an opportunity for women at different stages in their journey to mentor, encourage, pray for, ask questions, get wisdom from another, etc..., as we study the Bible. 


Usually someone brings a baked good or snack, but we don't have assigned days to do it. It's just pretty much if someone feels like it or has something left over. I really wanted to bring something, so today I brought banana bread. It was a new recipe I got from my friend Heather, so I was excited to try it out. And to my great joy, nobody else brought food, so it was great timing for my bananas to go "bad"!

We're fortunate to have childcare provided during the study, but sometimes the youngest kids stay with their moms. Today, one of the moms decided it was time for her 9-month-old to go in the nursery. Alas, it was not to be. Not 5 minutes in, Abigail was brought back in tears, and for good reason. One of the other dear, sweet, precious little girls had decided Abigail was so sweet, she wanted to taste her finger. So she bit her. (I don't really know what her motive was, but I will give her the benefit of the doubt!)    

     

Soon, there were many more tears, from Abigail's mom and the other little girl and her mom. After lots of soothing and nursing and snacks and cuddling, Abigail (which means "source of joy" or "Father's joy" by the way) was back to her 4-teeth-smiling-self. The rest of us were smiling, too, as the other girl's mom had snuck out and brought back flowers, and had her daughter give them to the baby. I loved watching these mothers model repentance and forgiveness for their daughters. I wonder if Jesus saying we're to be like a child to enter the Kingdom of Heaven has a little to do with being able to quickly forget when someone else wrongs us.

You all might know that I'm not big on surprises. There are always exceptions, though. Today, on December 2, in near 40 degree weather, I found this growing outside my house.

I am not a great gardener, so we picked this type of rose bush because of its resilience. It blooms all summer and into the fall. But it hasn't bloomed in several weeks and this is the latest I've ever seen it pop one out. Roll your eyes and call me foolish if you want, but I think this is a special gift of my Father God's joy just for me!

Finally, I took great joy in the soup I made tonight. I've been taking a culinary skills class for the past few months, and even though I made a Walmart run today, I resisted satisfying my craving for soup with an easy-to-buy can and decided to make some. My mother-in-law (who was visiting last week) had saved and frozen the turkey carcass, suggesting I use it to make turkey soup. I'd never done that, but I figured with my newly acquired culinary skills, it shouldn't be too hard. And it wasn't. I boiled the bones to make stock, then I pulled all the good meat (4 cups worth!) off of the bones, roasted some veggies (to bring in an extra dose of flavor), threw in the noodles I made in pasta week, added some salt and pepper and voila! Turkey soup.

Why is this even significant? Three reasons (and three joys) as a matter of fact!

1) I have an awesome mother-in-law. Not because she saved the turkey bones, but because she is such an amazing person. She has one of the biggest servant's-hearts I've ever encountered and God is using her to teach me how to do that thing I'm not very good at: receiving. Plus, she raised the world's best man, which is a huge source of joy for me.

2) I got to experience the joy in the process. I usually want to skip the process and just get to the result, which is pretty impossible when it comes to cooking. And really everything else. 

3) The reason I had noodles left over from the pasta class is because the chef didn't have enough marinara sauce for everyone to make the lasagna we were assigned. At the time, this was a point of frustration for me, even to the point where I almost cried (totally blaming that one on pregnancy!).  But this is where my noodles were supposed to be used after all, so my mourning turned to joy!

Did you see, find, or remember any joys in your life today? 

One Hundred Joys

I'm joining one of my favorite bloggers, Sarah Markley, to find and report on 100 Joys this month.

Besides the obvious appropriateness with my middle name being Joy and all, and this being the season where we speak of good tidings of great joy, I have been challenged personally to choose joy lately.

I have pregnancy hormones running amuck, my body is betraying me, my mind is restless with the unknowns accompanying Blueberry's arrival, so yeah, some days I have to choose joy.

And, I might as well share that joy with you. It's kindof the point of my blog anyway.

To start  us out, here is one thing I have been waiting for ALL year.

This is a fund-raising calendar for the Down Syndrome Association of Tulsa, and my nephew Solo (I've mentioned him once or twice ;-)) is one of the Mr. Decembers. I'm so happy I get to look at his cuteness all month as I hang out in my kitchen.

Here's a larger shot of the one in the upper corner.

These pictures are now a year old, but if that doesn't say "Joy"
I don't know what does!
Photos by Jill Solomon www.jillsolomonphotography.com

If you want to join us in our 100 Joys month, head over to Sarah's blog to find out the details.

A Warning for Blueberry

Dear Blueberry,

You should know that your mommy is a goof. You are going to figure this out someday, but I just don't want it to come as a big shock to you, so I'm giving you fair warning.

Case in point: The way I get when I can't stop laughing (especially when your daddy is the cause).

Here's a tree I thought was beautiful, so I was taking pictures of it. (I will often do this when I see trees or flowers I like. You'll get used to it.)

Then I thought, this would be a great backdrop to get some pictures with some of my favorite friends (your Aunt Liz and Aunt Mary- you'll love them!)

Mary's baby boy is just 10 weeks younger than you!

Then Aunt Liz says, "You should get a picture of you and John in front of this tree," and proceeds to say to John "Can I take a picture with your wife in front of the tree?" To which he replies, "Sure, go ahead," and walks away.

So, I get really tickled that he thinks she's really asking permission to take my picture and by the time he is informed that the request was for him to be in it, I have lost it. (And I'm laughing again now, typing this)

And of course he takes full advantage of my inability to stop laughing and keeps telling me to be serious so we can take this picture in front of this tree.

He's a cruel, cruel man.

I'm finally able to keep a straight face, but it's not even worth it.

One day, you might also discover that your daddy is a nerd, but most likely you'll always think he's a superhero (which he is). But just remember, if you inherit his ability to make me laugh and enjoyment in egging me on, you have been warned!

The Problem with Mothers

I'm never going to be the mom I thought I wanted to be.

(Though to be fair, the kind of mom we want to be changes a bit from time to time.)

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be just like my mommy. She was beautiful, smart, comfortable and strong. She had jewelry and makeup and high-heeled shoes.

I remember her trying to tell me that she didn't know everything and that she made mistakes from time to time, but I just couldn't wrap my little mind around that.

As it so happens, I did get to a point as a snotty pubescent that I realized she was right. She didn't know everything. She didn't even know anything! I was going to be nothing like her when I was a mom.

Somehow, while I was in college, my mom got really smart again. I could appreciate how hard she worked. I saw her reaping some of the fruit she had planted years and years ago. I got to sing in her wedding to her high-school sweetheart (fulfilling a odd dream I had as a little girl to be in my mommy's wedding, even back when my parents were married). I thought that if I could ever be half as good a mom as she was, I'd do alright.

Then she went and got promoted to Grandma. (They still let her keep her old job as Mom, too.)

So then, I had not only my mom's example to follow, but also my sister and brother's parenting to emulate. And their babies were perfect, so that's a high standard, I'll have you know.

I wasn't a wife long before we started our own journey to become parents. It was a bit longer than we expected, but y'all know that story already.

Then a good chunk of my friends became mothers. My models of motherhood went from an observable sample to an overwhelming array of styles and options and methods. But for me, motherhood was still out of reach, a realm of mystery and wonder.

And then....

And now....

Now I'm within two months (two months!) of becoming what (what?!) I've dreamed of for so long. I'm going to be the one that my child needs, adores, idolizes, ignores, despises, rejects, returns to and (hopefully) ultimately befriends.

So I look to the mom I thought I had, the mom I thought I wanted to be like/not like, the grandma to my niece and nephews, my mother-in-law, my sisters/-in-law, my cousins, my friends, the blogs, the books, the classes, more books, and I've come to this conclusion.

I'm never going to be the mom I thought I wanted to be.

Because there is only one My Mommy. And as much as I am like her (SO like her!), I am not going to be a mom just like she was. She was exactly the kind of mom her kids need/ed her to be. As was my mother-in-law. And so on.

These mothers do the best they know to do. They love the most they can, then they choose to love even more. They make mistakes. They have grace for their kids' mistakes. They give roots, they give wings, they hope we dance. They pray without ceasing. They teach by example. They change, even as their children change. And not one of them is doing any of this like anybody else does it.

So the problem, the wonderful mysterious problem, is; there is not a mother in the world that I can be like. I can and will be the mother I am meant to be and the mother my child(ren) need.

And you know what? I think I'm ok with that!

(Happy Birthday to my amazing mommy! I'm so grateful I got the one and only you as mine.)

(This is from last Christmas. A good reminder to me to get a picture with just you every time we're together! We change our hair too much to be stuck this far in the past!)

Status Update

When I first joined the Air Force almost 10 years ago, I would half-seriously tell people it was for the $7 babies. My best childhood friend had been in the Air Force and, as part of her son's baby album, had a copy of the $7 check she wrote to the base hospital for the food she ate during her labor and delivery stay. At the time I was young, single and still planning to have eight kids, and I thought $7 was a great deal! (I think they don't even charge for the food anymore.)

Now, with a baby on the way at last, I must hang up the dream of only paying $7 for his/her birth.

I got an email yesterday notifying me that my request to be transferred from the Active Reserve to the Inactive Ready Reserve (IRR) was approved and effective Nov 1.

What this means is that I'm the most minimally (oxymoron?) attached to the Air Force as possible. I don't have any requirements (to drill, keep records updated, fitness, training, etc...), and most importantly, I am almost non-deployable. I say almost because they would have to non-voluntarily deploy a lot of people before getting to the IRR, which might happen, but probably won't.

I have mixed feelings about this change, but I know it's the best thing for our family right now. I have loved being in the Air Force, both as an active duty member and a Reservist. I have had amazing opportunities and worked with some of the best people in the world. My job in the Reserves is one of the best you can get. I've been an Individual Mobilized Augmentee (IMA), which means I wasn't assigned to a Reserve unit (one weekend a month/ two weeks a year), but to an active duty office with the same amount of requirements (35 days a year). My main job was to augment the active duty force by filling in a specific position when the active duty person wasn't able to be there, due to leave, training or deployments. So, I was much like a substitute teacher. This is what I did at Andrews Air Force Base, as well as augmenting the unit for special events such as the annual airshow.

Another perk of the job was the free agent aspect. If a unit had a special mission requirement, like a special event, they would put out a request for IMAs to come fill in. These temporary job opportunities popped up all over the world, and though I only took advantage of a few in the DC area, I enjoyed the possibilities available to me. This is how I got to work on the Armed Forces Inaugural Committee and help write an award package for Air Force Public Affairs to submit to the Public Relations Society of America (which we won, by the way!).

So, I've loved the flexibility and variety of being an IMA. I've loved to be a representative for Citizen Airmen, showing the active duty folks what Reservists can bring to the fight. I've loved to be a spokesperson for the Air Force, showing the American public what their amazing troops are doing.

I think this is part of the reason I'm not ready to resign my commission outright, cut the cord and be done with it all. For all the "costs" associated with military service, I've just had too much fun and have too much pride in what it means to totally quit. So, I'm just partially quitting. I'll still have one pinky toe in the door in case I ever need or want to return to a participating Reserve or even active duty status.

But for now, my status must change. I'm preparing for a new long-term (lifetime) assignment as Mommy, and for at least the first year, I don't want Captain or Airman to interfere with that. I totally admire the working moms and dads who handle both roles with success, but this is the right thing for my family for right now.

So, even though we'll pay a tad bit more than $7 for our baby, and even though I'll miss putting on my uniform and offering crisp salutes and service to my country, I'll turn the page with gratitude and excitement to see what is in the next chapter.