milk talk

I've never purchased so much milk in my life. Lately, we've been going through about 2 gallons a week. Chad and I are not big milk drinkers. We used to have a hard time finishing half a gallon before the date expired. Now I don't even look at the date because it's gone in less than three days! I give Melody soy milk half the time and cow milk the other half. As a child I had problems with cows milk, so I'm nervous about flooding her system with it. When Melody started drinking milk a few weeks ago, I began to buy organic. I do not want her ingesting unnecessary hormones, namely estrogen. Excess estrogen is linked to many health problems, like endometriosis. Also, the organic milk tastes so much better! I've begun buying it for Chad and myself as well. So Melody gets the whole milk and we get the skim milk. In theory, that is. I find myself sneaking whole milk for coffee, mashed potatoes, oreo snacks, and many other "just this once" instances. I have a feeling Chad is doing the same since the skim milk container remains heavy days longer than the other. There is just something about the consistency and taste of the creamy, heavy, smooth, cold, whole milk. I sound like a commercial.

inspired

I've been reviewing some design stuff this week as I prepare for my next class. While looking through some old issues of Communication Arts, I found inspiration in articles about Paul Rand and Herb Lubalin. I stared at their logos and posters with fascination. Then I perused Michael Schwab's website as well as a few Charles S Anderson sites. I love the simple work of these designers. I like the bold, flat color used in Michael Schwab's stuff. He's the one who did the series of posters for Northern California sites.

Today my mom and I walked on the trail in Siloam. The day was bright and clear, the air cool and crisp; perfect weather for a brisk walk. Melody loved it. By the end of the walk she was jabbering excitedly. She moved her arms around as if she were a queen commanding the grass and the trees from her stroller throne.

One the way home she feel asleep and is still napping. I need to take her outside more often.

feeling good

This morning I feel good. Melody's napping. I'm wrapped up in my warm baby blue robe. I'm in the middle of a mug of hot chocolate made of Ghirardelli mocha chocolate powder. I didn't feel like coffee this morning.

Last night I taught my first class of the semester. I introduced the students to Illustrator. I was pleased to discover only a couple of them have worked in the program before. I think the kids will learn well though as they kept up well with the basics. Teaching them to use the Pen Tool is the most challenging. Those bezier control handles are just counter-intuitive. I didn't know how to explain it to them. I had them practice by trying to write their name in cursive with it. They did pretty good.

I have assignments lined up for the next four weeks, but I'm not happy with them. The idea is to give them a pdf or a jpeg file of an Illustrator document and have them recreate the artwork on their own. The current ones are outdated logos and illustrations. I think they'd be more motivated about learning the software techniques if I were having them create something more exciting. I plan to go to Barnes and Noble today. I will skim the new design publications, looking for inspiration.

I felt good after the class. Of course there are things I wish I'd done a little differently, but overall I was pleased. I slept really good last night, having it behind me.

Melody is so much fun these days. She shows us affection by leaning toward us with her head down. She touches us with her forehead this way. It is so sweet. She calls everyone, including me, daa-dee. She only says ma-ma when she's hurt, scared, or tired. She also says doggie and bear. While in San Francisco, we saw a huge horse in the street. She pointed and said excitedly, "Doggie!"

Her hair is long and wispy around her ears and at the nape of her neck. She has six teeth -- four on top and two on bottom. The front two are very large with a big space inbetween them. Her eyes continue to mystify us. The best way to describe them is dark green... almost hunter. She looks very much like her daddy, who also has green eyes.

I'm feeling good these days. I often forget to take my antidepressant. I don't know how much longer I'll stay on it. I think springtime would be a good time to try going off it. I am curious to see if I'm "better."

I'd better go use the rest of Melody's nap time to take a quick shower.

finally finally finally

Hi everyone! I'm blogging from HOME. Today we finally got our internet connection up and running. It's been an insane process as slow as dial-up itself. Turns out, we're 400 feet outside of the telephone service for the town we live in. This means we have our phone service through a itty bitty town that is 25 minutes away, making calls to all our friends and businesses long distance.

But let me stop boring you with that right now!

It's going to take some time to get back in the swing of things with blogging. Before the move I was doing so well... it was in a groove. Now I'm kinda stuck again. What do people wanna hear? Here is a rundown of recent and present stuff in my life:


• Melody turned one a couple weeks ago. (!) It's weird to say that I have a one-year-old. She is close to walking, but does not seem to want it very badly.

• We spent a week in northern California for the holidays. Chad and I were in a wedding. Melody did awesome on the flights, but it wore us all out.

• I start teaching a software class at JBU tonight. It will be every Monday evening from 6:30 to 9:00. I taught the same class a couple years ago. I'm nervous and barely prepared, which I hate. I think I could really enjoy this teaching stuff if I'd stop putting prep off to the last minute.

• I've been doing more freelance work for DaySpring lately. It is also a love-hate thing. I love the challenge, the interaction and the money. The stress and the juggling of everything makes is hard to enjoy though.

• I found a babysitter! She is a JBU student and has taken care of Melody twice so far. Both times I've been working in the house simotaneously. She plays with Melody well. Today Melody was laughing hysterically as she learned how to kick a plastic walmart bag.

• Living in the country is nice. Now it is strange to drive through neighborhoods. After only three months, the country feels normal. (Although I'm still bitter about dialup and I'm still freaked about ticks.)

• Our house is still very unfinished. Chad tries, but is not able to make fast progress because of his work, lack of evening daylight, and general busyness. It does not help that I'm usually beckoning him to watch a tv with me when he gets off work.

• I'm happy to report that I am now two pounds BELOW my pre-pregnancy weight. Yayyyyyy.


That's all for now. I will try come up with something fun to read tomorrow.

the midwest and the sisters

Our week vacation with the inlaws is coming to a close. Later today we'll head back to Arkansas. Spending time in the midwest is always strange for me. The flat wavy land. The crop fields. The lone farmhouses. Barns and silos. Straight highways. These characteristics are different from the places I've lived in Texas, California, and Arkansas. The thing that gets to me the most is the feeling of isolation. Some people find solice in this midwestern landscape, but for me is it is strange.

I've had a good time with Chad's sisters. Holly, the younger one, and I have spent the most time together. We've been to Starbucks several times. She always get a white chocolate mocha. I've discovered lattes; I like how simple and smooth they are. With all the holiday pie and cookies, I've been in the mood for coffee without chocolate, thus I tried something besides my usual cafe mocha.

Chelsea is engaged. She and her man are trying to figure out when to get married. Short engagment or long engagement? I always vote for short, but maybe in their case a long one is okay. Chad and I had a 3 month engagement and if we were to do it again, we'd make it even shorter. My philosophy is if you know you're going to get married, just do it. But circumstances make things different sometimes.

I'm starting to understand that my own life experiences are not always applicable to others. For instance, Holly has decided to go to a community college and live at home next semester instead of continuing on at the four year liberal arts Christian university where she's been. My heart sunk when I heard her plan. I had such a wonderful time at JBU and I wanted her to experience the same. She is leary of acquiring so much debt and she can get a nursing degree both ways, so she's coming home. After seeing the situation close up, I feel she's making a good decision, even though it's very different from my own.

Once we get home I will not be able to blog for awhile longer. I'm looking forward to the day when I can email and blog from my home office while sitting next to a window viewing trees and birds. Country living is wearing off on me. I'm looking forward to going home today.

turkey day

Happy Thanksgiving! The day is winding up. Everyone is awake now. (Typically, this is a family of sleeper-inners.) Monkey bread is baking and coffee is brewing. Large homemade apple and pumpkin pies are on the counter; evidence of late night work. Later we'll have the full fledged meal including turkey, dressing, mashed potatos, green bean casserole, rolls, gravy, etc. You get the picture.

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday. This could have something to do with the fact that we did not celebrate Christmas when I was a child, leaving T-Day alone in the holiday season. (More on that another time.) Thanksgiving is such a straight-forward celebration. There are no presents, which makes it less stressful. I love the whole idea of simply being grateful, too. Whether the graditude is for country, family, loved ones, a home, community, or just a hot meal... it's good to give thanks.

Have a great day!

pms talk & more on country living

The new house is coming along. Each week Chad checks things off his unending To-Do List. We now have towel racks, closet rods, doorknobs, light fixtures, and windows. Yes, when we moved in these things were not complete. (!) Having the inside of the house complete makes me very happy. I've adjusted to being in country. I enjoy it each day now.

I think my difficulty in adjusting had more to do with PMS than with the actual move. The old familiar symptoms hit me like a ton of bricks. Restlessness, desperation, irritability, and discontentment rolled in like fog, surrounding everything I did. I struggled to understand and then, Voila... the sun broke through. Cramps, backache, and numb legs replaced the end-of-the-world state of mind.

I was surprisingly delighted as my body kicked back into fertile mode. I guess I was worried it would take years instead of months, making it impossible to have another baby. This surprised me because I don't even want another baby yet. But knowing that it is possible is a good thing.

Melody is 11 months old now! In less than a month she'll be eating her first birthday cake. I can't wait to see her pointer finger discover frosting and crumbs for the first time. Her wispy hair is getting long around the nap of her neck, making her look more like a toddler than a baby. She has four large teeth now; all different lengths. Her new nickname is Snaggle Tooth.

We are still without a phone line and internet access. It seems we're on the border of two tiny podunk towns and they can't figure out who is responsible to provide our phone service. Lovely. Maybe by 2007 they will figure out how to give us the oldest, slowest dial-up service in the country. An old man actually knocked on our door last week to talk to me about the situation. I would have been ticked off about it except, I have this thing for old men. They absolutely melt my heart because I think they're so cute. This old guy had a bright smile and twinkling eyes. He reminded me of Clint Eastwood. How can I get mad at that?

One of my life goals is to compile a photo album with snapshots of old men.

adjusting

I have differing reactions to being in the country at our new home. First, I have to say, I love the house. Although it isn't complete, I love it. The colors turned out great. The butter yellow kitchen is the best room of the house with stainless steel appliances, granite countertops, and can lighting. I like the galley layout and the attached breakfast area is small and cozy. It is the perfect size for our little family.

The living room is also great. The walls are a muted blue creating a restful and soothing atmosphere. (The name of the blue is actually, Atmosphere!) The simple vaulted ceiling leads one's eyes to the Mission Style fan at the peak of the room. Our furniture works in the new house much better than it did in the previous one. The orange and khaki slipcovers blend into the color scheme with ease.

Even though I love the house, I don't feel at home yet. We've moved multiple times and this is the first time I haven't been able to settle into the new surrounding with ease. I have not slept well yet, and during the day I wander around the house as if it isn't my own. I am happy in the mornings, but by early afternoon, I begin to feel closed in and isolated. We're located 15 minutes from tiny Siloam and 25 minutes from beloved Fayetteville. Chad and I went to college in Siloam. I worked there for 4 years before Melody was born. To return now feels like taking a step backward. I often read magazines like Real Simple and daydream about big city living. Being in the country reinforces the fact that I'm far away from this big city dream.

I thought I was doing well hiding my slight misgivings about the country until yesterday when Chad said, "I feel like you don't want to be out here with me." He has intentionally included me in the house-building process. He said multiple times, "The inside of the house is yours. You can do whatever you want." He's given me this freedom so I will be happy living on his 22 acre dreamland. I am trying, but it is a fight.

There are things I love, though. The area surrounding the house is beautiful. Trees are all around, creating scattered sunlight and shade. Leaves continually fall in the autumn breeze. Am I crazy for feeling strange in such a pefect setting? I hope this new place feels like home soon.

duvet insanity solved

A couple days ago Laura walked into the house through the garage. She had a large, square, white item in her arms. I eyed her curiously with a question on my face. She smiled and said, "For you, Loca."

"What...huh?" My mind was occupied with moving plans.

"I read your blog. This was a wedding gift, but it's too hot for us so we can't use it. It's 86 x 86, just the size you need! It's yours."

How cool is that!!? The down comforter is fluffy, new, white, cloud-like, and the PERFECT size for my duvet cover. The first room I put together at our new house was the guest bedroom, because I was so excited to assemble the bed coverings. It looks awesome!

The walls are yellow. Two windows allow light to pour in, making the room bright and happy. Two bright blue-turquoise chair pads are tied to wooden chairs in the corner. On the bed, the fluffy comforter is smooth and inviting, with orange accent pillows piled atop the shams. The duvet is light blue with a mod orange pin-wheel pattern. A tan run sits askew on the rust concrete floor. It could be a beach house room.

Thanks Laura!

the move

We are in our new house. The move went remarkably smooth; we ended up with TONS of help. Three friends came from out of town and about 12 others from the area were present for the occasion. I was astounded at the turnout. Not only did they move all our boxes and furniture, they also cleaned the entire old house and unpacked most of the new one!

Laura and Sarah worked tirelessly on the new kitchen, unloading plates, appliances, cans, fridge food, etc. Brian put the crib and bed frames together. Todd packed and drove the Uhaul. Heather arranged the slipcovers superbly (a job I abhore). Liz put Melody's room together. (She is baby crazy these days.) Lauren dusted doors, mop board, and light fixtures at the old house. Traci cleaned the showers. Charlie moved the heavy, 20+ year old, orange, hide-a-bed for the 6th time. (He has helped us move every single time since we got married five years ago. This time he drove 7 hours from Nebraska!) Vance, Chris, Josh, Matt, Jared, Casey and Neil delivered boxes to assigned rooms until the truck was EMPTY.

Needless to say, I was dumbfounded by the help we received. I couldn't believe it. It was easy and fun with all of us together. By the end of the day we were exhausted. We sank onto couches, chairs, floor space and ate Eureka Pizza and drank Pale Ale and October Fest beer. I think I said Thank You over a hundred times. I had no idea it was even possible to accomplish so much in one day.

hello, my name is rebekah. i am a nag.

Being in a marriage relationship gets tricky sometimes. Recently, I saw myself in a new light. I am a nag. (Gasp.) This is something I have desperately tried NOT to be. Growing up, there was nagging in my home. I entered marriage thinking it an unnecessary form of communication. I likened it to yelling. If one resorts to yelling in order to get attention, then the opposing party will wait for yelling before he/she responds. Yada, yada, yada. This all made total sense in theory.

Chad and I started our relationship on strictly no nagging terms. I was careful to let him do what he pleased. This pertained to facial hair, clothing style, driving techniques, eating habits, and a myriad of other personal things. If we were talking in the car and his favorite song came on the radio, I'd carefully stop talking so he could listen to his song. Once it was over, we'd resume. He didn't require this behavior; but showed appreciation for it. I took pride in the fact that I was not one of "those" girlfriends. You know, the kind that are controlling and clingy. Looking back, I think much of this was a facade.

I was trying hard to be the right type of girlfriend. Maybe because I was insecure? Maybe because I hadn't dated anyone else? I think I just really really liked him, and I wanted him to like me, too.

Fastforward five years. We're married with a baby, building a house, and about to move. It's a Saturday morning. I'm running a garage sale in our driveway. Chad is bustling around, trying to get things together for a day of work at the new house. I remind Chad that he needs to put a For Rent sign in the front yard. He stops what he's doing and spends 15 or 20 minutes on the task. I am mildly aware of his actions. The next thing I know, there is a sign in the yard. Sticking out from underneath the small For Rent sign is a long narrow section of signage from a previous sign. It shows on either side of the Rent sign. It is visually distracting and ugly (to me).

"Baaabe... that's not going to work. It looks horrible. It's not readable. LOOK at it."

He squints at me from across garage, the morning sun in his eyes. Locals are rummaging through our junk in the driveway. He replies, "Well, that is the only way it'll stay stuck to the stake. Sorry." His tone indicates that he's finished working on it, despite my verdict of unacceptability. I push harder:

"Usually you come up with better solutions than that."

He remains silent and disappears into the house as I deal with a yard sale customer. The next thing I know, he briskly walks to his truck, which is parked at the curb. He gets in and speeds away. He's obviously angry. He never leaves without saying goodbye. I walk to the end of the driveway, watching in disbelief, wondering if he'll really leave the neighborhood. He's gone. I had no idea my words would have that kind of an effect. I began to replay them in my head. Oh no. I was horrible.

Less than five minutes later, Chad's black Tundra reappeard on our street. As he got our of the truck, I stood up from my camping chair station and took two little steps toward him. He walked the rest of the way to me, his eyes steady on mine. As he neared he said, "I don't want to be like that." I apologized for my harsh words. In the five minutes of his absense I had fixed the sign with a creative solution: I taped white index cards over the offending extra signage and drew large bold arrows pointing in toward the sign. It looked like a cute little custom sign.

After making up, we said goodbye and he left again. A few minutes later I came inside the house. My mom was here; I told her we had had a tiff. I said it was due to my nagging him. She paused and chose her words carefully. "Bekah, I've noticed that you nag Chad often. He takes it and says nothing." I gulped and asked for more details. She could not give me an example. She tried to be sweet and sensitive, but honest. My phone rang and I stumbled out of the half packed bedroom to get away, tears brimming in my eyes.

Once alone, I cried. I felt so blind. Why couldn't I see myself the way others did? I hated myself and the blindness. I closed the garage sale with tears spilling down my cheeks. Neighboors eyed me with curiousity. I shut the garage door, and went to my bathroom. As I stepped into the hot shower, I wondered, "Is Chad as happy as I am in our marriage?"

I spent the rest of the day thinking about us. I remembered the way I intentionally tried not to nag him in the early days of our relationship. What changed? Was it that I was secure and comfortable with us? Maybe. But I still want him to enjoy being around me. If we're going to spend the rest of our lives together, it should be pleasant for both of us.

By the end of the day, I was exhuasted from self-introspection. The following morning the three of us went out to breakfast. Melody was an angel and we were able to talk one-on-one. I told him about the day before. I apologized for being a Nag. We discussed how we felt. He told me that I'm unpleasant when in a bad mood. Other than that, he didn't have anything to complain about. Whew. I was relieved to hear he is still happy with us.

I want to be a good wife. I want to make him happy. I want to make him smile on a daily basis. In our wedding vows we spoke of making our home a place of refuge. A place of safety, warmth, and comfort. I want with all my heart for this to be the case. I am trying to remember to ask God for strength, sensitivity, grace, and self control. It is when I try to do these things myself that I fail. I need help.

duvet insanity

What's the deal with Duvet Covers? I recently bought one at Target. It is labeled as a size full/queen. It was on clearance for $15, so I purchased it for our guest room. After arriving home with it, I realized I don't have a comforter to put inside it. Argh. For the past few weeks I've been searching for an inexpensive comforter to use with the blasted duvet cover. Here's the catch... full/queen sizes differ! The duvet I have is 86 x 86. I have yet to find a comforter this exact size. What am I suppose to do?? Who thought of duvet covers anyway? It's like the equivalant to a slipcover. Everyone knows that for a slipcover to look GOOD, it costs as much as an actual couch. What's the point in that? Why not just buy a new couch?

Here's my question... can I make my own filler for this new duvet cover I have? If so, what should I use? The thing with going this route is, I know I'll end up spending more money on the insides than I did on the cover! Not to mention my time. Simple projects never turn out simple.

For instance, when I was pregnant I made a ribbon mobile for Melody's room. I saw the idea in a Martha Stewart Kids magazine (very cool publication, by the way). I bought a medium size embroidery hoop and tons of ribbon. I cut the ribbon into 20" strips. Then I draped the strips over the hoop, creating a ring of dangling colorful ribbon. I used double stick tape and glue to make it all stick together. I had to return to Hobby Lobby three times to buy more ribbon in order to make the thing look right. I ended up spending over $20 on it. Looking back, I don't regret it because it turned out really cool and Melody loves it. But when I started the project I thought it would be a fun way to make an inexpensive mobile. (My parents ended up getting her a Winnie the Pooh mobile, so the ribbon creation hangs over the changing table.)

With that said, are there any duvet suggestions for me? Thanks!

catch all

The move is looming. Six days. We have a rent sign in the front yard. So far, we've received two inquiring calls. We're nervous because we've never rented to anyone before. We thought about having a Property Management Service take care of it for the first year. They charge 10% of the rent price. We had two services come look at the house. Neither of them impressed us. After their visits we were left with the feeling, "We can do this ourselves." We hope to have the house occupied by November. Any advice?

The garage has turned into Box Land. One side is piled high with heavy, labeled, sealed boxes. The other side has lopsided stacks of empty boxes, waiting for me to get busy. Today I'm tackling the Laundry. We usually have a steady basket of dirties waiting. I am the type who does a load here and there, never getting to the bottom of the basket. (Proof that we have too many clothes.) Today I decided it would be nice to have everything clean for the move. That way I can forget about laundry for a couple weeks and focus on unpacking the new house. Do you see why the house is a backsliding scenerio for me?

In other news I'm now five little pounds away from my pre-pregnancy weight. For me, the saying will be more like, "Nine months on, 11 months off." I'm wearing my old clothes, which is awesome. They don't fit quite like they used to, but I'm happy nonetheless. I am delighted to not be wearing the DD bomb bras anymore.

Melody is nine and a half months old. She scurries around the house, crawling army-style. She proudly cruises alongside the couch and coffee table. I see lots of bumps and bruises in the immediate future. Each day she is stronger and more coordinated. She grabs handfulls of cheerios (3) with vigor instead of apprehension. I think she tries to say "bear" when holding her stuffed animals. Is sounds like, "Baaa." I've been video-taping her more lately.

thoughts on moving

We plan to move in 9 days. I am feeling overwhelmed. I'm at the point with packing where I've boxed up the easy stuff. Now I keep turning in circles, eyeing different objects, wondering if they should be boxed up yet. Linen closet? What about the people coming from out of town to help us move? They'll need towels. I've done about 3/4 of the kitchen.

Melody's room is untouched because I want to take pictures of it before dismantling everything. Her walls, furniture, and decor are the most intentional and finished of the whole house. Right now I have black and white film in my camera. I need to finish this roll before I'm able to take color photos of her bedroom. Such are the things on my mind.

I had planned to host playgroup at my house tomorrow. It felt nostalgic about this being the last opportunity to have Playgroup here. Turns out, there's just too much going on. I bailed and will skip the get-together. I'm desperately hoping my friends will make the 30+ minute drive to the now house. Perhaps the posibility of these friendships waning is the reason for my melancoly today.

I'm also a bit sad about leaving this house. We've been here for three years -- the longest place of residence in our 5 year marriage. Chad and I walked these sidewalks often during my pregnancy. Melody was born in this house. I always have trouble leaving things behind.

kitchen woes

We are moving in 12 short days and I'm feeling pressure to be organized. I've packed the spare bedroom (camping gear, books, computer stuff) and most of the kitchen. A fraction of our dishes, spices, canned food, and baking items is left. It feels good to have bare cabinets. Clean and simple. Usually I have to move multiple items to get to the flour or sugar.

Our new kitchen will be smaller than the current one. But it will have a pantry, which we don't have right now. So maybe it will even out? I would love to have completely bare countertops. I think that would look so nice. But I use the blender almost every day to make fruit smoothies for breakfast. The toaster oven is used once or twice a week. A utensil holder sits next to the stove, holding everyday spatulas, spoons, and such. Then there's the salt, pepper, jar of clothspins (used for keeping opened packages tightly closed), multi vitamin (that I won't take unless I SEE it everyday), coffee maker (used everyday), and two colorful fire king mugs (holding the silverware).

I use these things all the time. So how can I avoid keeping them on the countertop? I love pictures of Ikea kitchens; sparse with lots of flat shiny surfaces. Lately I've been reading quite a bit of the magazine, Real Simple. I like the photography in the publication; it puts a fire in me to have clean and simple rooms.

There is one thing on the kitchen counter that I love... that's my cobalt blue Kitchen Aid mixer. It's one of my favorite possessions. Chad surprised me with it for my birthday about a year ago. I like having it out in the open, because it reminds me that Chad loves me. Also, because it's so pretty.

Does anyone have any kitchen tips for me?

my brother, part 4

Back to my brother's story.

Christoper always excelled in school. He liked being in competition with the smart kids. He quickly outgrew the high school environment and decided to do his junior and senior year together, enabling him to graduate a year early. He impressed us all with his perseverance and hard work. He took two english classes, several hard science classes, and a speech class at a local university. He studied late into the night more than a couple times a week. By the time May arrived, he had earned the right to say goodbye to Clarksville High early. We were all very proud of him. At the graduation ceremony the principle had each student stand to be recognized for college scholarships received. My chest swelled with pride as the principle said, "Chris Kotter. John Brown University. Excellence in Engineering Scholarship." I felt like standing up and saying, "That's MY brother!"

He decided to attend John Brown University after considering many state schools. This decision made us all happy. Chad and I had awesome experiences at the small Christian school. I can't help but think that our positive stories impacted his decision to go there.

About a month ago, he moved into the dorm. He was giddy, a little self conscious, and all smiles. His roomate is a missionary kid from Brazil. So far, they get along. Once a week or so, I call Christopher to see if he needs anything. He's without a car, and Walmart is not in walking distance from the campus. He usually turns down my offer for Walmart runs, but he always receives invitations for meals out or a weekend afternoon at our house.

When I see him, I can't help but smile inside. He's so grown up. His chest, neck and arms are filling in. (He lifts weights with a buddy.) His voice seems more mature. He laughs like a man -- deeply and with light in his eyes. He is more alive than ever before. His major is Construction Management, which is the same thing Chad studied. They compare stories of profs, projects, and classes. By the time Chris graduates they'll have a lot more in common.

I guess this is the end of my series on my little bro. As I write Part 4, I think of many stories I've left out. In the future I'll revisit the topic and tell stories of him taking a rental car for a hush-hush 100 mph spin around town, band camp girlfriends and other typical little brother stuff.

clothes talk

I am tired of all my clothes. I keep buying the same stuff over and over again. I have this desire to dress funky and unique. Something between skater-chick, hippie, and prep. I know; those are opposites. That is one of my problems.

Another problem is that I like simplicity too much. I am drawn to the Favorite-Ts at the Gap. If they are on sale, I buy them every time. My closet has various colors of the long-sleeve and short-sleeve versions. Sometimes I layer them with the short-sleeved ones on top. That is about the extent of my "style."

I see girls wearing layered lacy tanks with sparkly shoes. I like that look, but I'd feel like an alien if I wore it. Which leads to another one of my problems. Confidence. I second guess myself when I try new things. One time in aerobics I tried to be cool and wore something out of the ordinary. I could barely do the steps right, because I was so self-consious with all the mirrors. After that I stuck to grey shorts and big white t-shirts. Borrrrring.

Maybe another one of my problems is that I live in Arkansas. This might be a cop-out, but really... we only have a few places to get stuff. Yeah, yeah, I could order from the internet, but that just isn't the same as REALLY shopping.

Today I ventured to the mall and made myself go into a store other than the Gap. I entered Express, determined to find something different. A nice clerk began talking to me. She was five months pregnanct. We exchanged baby pleasantries and then I began the search. I found several shirts with cute sleeves, a little sparkle and slinky material. Fun stuff. Each time I found an item to consider, there were only Smalls and X-Smalls available. What the hell?! Here I am, excited that my boobs are finally on their way down from a DD. I'm feeling good because MIGHT be able to fit into a Large instead of an XL. Good grief. Are there really THAT MANY tiny people out there? Obviously not, because all the big sizes are gone. Errr. (This is a different subject for a different post... sorry.)

I ended up buying a long-sleeve black v-neck. (50% off for $12.50. Not bad.) Along the neckline are understated sparklies and lace. I plan to wear a black tank underneath for added support and coverage. Soon, when I can fit my wide bootie into my date jeans, I'll have a fun, new outfit to show off. If only there were a store in the mall where we could buy Confidence to finish off the new look.

garage sale tidbits

Today I participated in a garage sale with two friends. All three of us are moving within the next three weeks. We each have babies. We wanted to get rid of junk, make some cash, and hang out. I dragged myself from bed at 6am and managed to stumble out the door with a blurry-eyed baby at 6:35. I got a dozen Krispy Kremes on the way (as well as coffee for myself) and arrived just at 7:00. Buyers steadily came and went until 1:00. During these six hours we juggled babies, bartered dollars, and told stories about our rejected possesions. We laughed at people (nicely) and made sure the kids didn't get too close to the street.

By noon, I was zonked. Melody had taken two naps in a $1 leopard print umbrella stroller. I sold two video game chairs, Chad's metal weights, an array of kitchen glassware, full size duvet cover with shams, and two little girl play strollers. I also sold an anitque high chair that I purchased a few weeks ago at a flea market. I snatched it up with high hopes of having a CUTE high chair instead of the monster ones on the market these days. It ended up being ricketty with slick chipped paint and no straps. I'm still looking for the right solution.

Items I was not sucessful at getting rid of where my husband's weight bench and one of those monster high chairs I mentioned already. It came from a neighbor several months ago. It had a cracked vinyl seat. By the end of the sale I had a $1 sticker on it. One lady did consider it for awhile. She said her brother needed a high chair for his restaurant. The girls and I laughed like banchees after she left. I could picture it in a dingy corner of some greasy waffle joint. Just the kind of public chair I'd love to use for my baby!

All in all, I made $65. (Of course if you subtract money from the donuts, coffee, lunch, poster board, huge black marker, and gas, I probably only made about $45. It was worth it for the social time.) Now it's early afternoon. Melody is sleeping and I'm heading to Nap Land myself. Chad is working on the house until dark, so I have the rest of the afternoon to rest, pack a little, clean up things, and perhaps make some banana bread.

update -- the house & melody

We have a lot going on right now. For one, we're building a house. That in itself is a lot. The house will be ready for interior paint in about a week. We've been busy picking colors, facets, lights, countertops, appliances, tubs, etc, etc, etc. The list is long! Now that I can see the house taking shape, I'm excited. Chad has been excited since before the footings were poured. It was hard for me to invision things until recently. Now I'm excited too.

Chad works for a residential construction company, so he knows about this stuff already. His job involves buying materials and scheduling. Thus, he's in his element when it comes to building our own house. He has scheduled things out to the day; of course there have been bumps and mishaps, but for the most part it has been a successful project. They say the devil is in the details, so we'll see how things pan out in the end. Chad plans on doing the trim himself as well as the cedar siding on the exterior of the house. I fear these two projects will take months. The other day I asked, "Have you estimated how much time your projects are going to take?" His facial expression showed me the answer. No. I try not to nag.

I took Melody to the doctor a couple days ago. She's been acting strange this week. Nights have been rough for 5 days in a row. She was sleeping 10 hour stretches with no problem until this week. It has been hard to be up with her again; it reminds me of the newborn days. I remember those first weeks with awe. How did I do it? I remember taking a 10 minute walk and then returning to the house and sleeping for two solid hours...

But back to the doctor visit... her ears, throat, and breathing checked out fine. At the end of the visit the doctor weighed her. She is 15 pounds / 9 ounces. She has gained only one pound in the past two months. (!) Her rank has slipped to the 5th percentile (from the 15th).

Of course I'm worried. I've talked to many people -- other moms, my mom, Chad, friends. They say nice things to ease my mind.

"You feed her often. She's fine."
"She's just petite. It's okay for girls to be little."
"Her motor skills and cognitive development are on track."
"Don't worry about it."

I've been trying to be brave; to not think about it; not let it get to me. But I'm distracted and tired and my mind keeps returning to the issue of her size. I love the way she looks. She has soft, round legs and a little ball tummy. When she's naked I squeal at the sight of her tiny proportions. I'm not alarmed by her appearance. I only worry after we've visited the doctor.

I make ongoing mental lists of high calorie baby food she can eat -- avocado, egg yolk, yogurt, flaxseed oil, banana. She eats all these foods without resisting. However, she only eats a tiny bit of each... maybe a 10th of an avocado or one ounce of yogurt at a time.

We've stopped breastfeeding. For awhile I nursed her at night and in the mornings. Then last week she began refusing. She still cuddles up to me as we lay side by side, in our nursing position. She holds onto my shirt, drawing it close to her face. With her other hand she sucks her fingers. This is the way she falls asleep now. I'm thankful we can still be so close even though she won't nurse. I have mixed feeling on her weaning. Part of me is sad because I planned to nurse until December. I am sad she won't get the nutrition of breastmilk anymore. Another part of me is relieved and happy. I'm feel free! My body belongs to ME again.

my brother, part 3

Back to the story of my little bro...

When my brother was three months old we moved from Texas to California. On the seven day drive he took up most of the car. In the backseat we had a baby car bed which occupied two-thirds of the bench seat. In the front seat a large rear facing carseat sat inbetween my parents. These items symbolized his presence in our family; he was the focus. I remember staring at him as he slept next to me in the back seat. He wore only his diaper as we drove through the desert on Hwy 10. He slept on his stomach; I traced lightly on his soft back, hoping he enjoyed my touch.

We lived in California for 4 years. They were heart-wrenching years of loneliness, isolation, adolescence, and bad clothes. I took comfort in my toddler companion who didn't see lack of style, bad hair, or dorky conversation. During the earthquake of 1989, I was the one who grabbed him as we fled to the hallway of the shaking house.

Christopher had a special way with old people. When we visited my grandpa in the nursing home I crumbled into my dad's arms at the sights and sounds of the ailing, bed-ridden elderly. My brother was three years old and he didn't see these things. He was oblivious to the smells and sadness. He walked the halls with my grandpa; small new hand wrapped in strong old wrinkled fingers. He hummed along in his high-little-boy-voice as my grandpa sang old hymns with his rummbling crackly deep voice. It was an endearing sight.

When Christopher was 4 and I was 15, we moved to Arkansas. A year later he started kindergarden and I made sure my mom bought him cute clothes so he'd fit in. We had more money at this point, so getting him nice things was easier. He named our black stray cat, Apple. He loved to ride in the front seat of the mini-van. Usually I made him sit in the backseat though. He was great at Monopoly at a young age. He had a coin collection. He loved doing outside projects with my dad and saving his money.

When he was eight years old I left for college. While moving into my female-only dorm, men had to yell "Man on the hall" when they entered. We all laughed when his high squeaky voice proclaimed, "Man on the hall!" On my visits home from college I would take Christopher to school in the mornings. On the way, we'd get donuts and eat them quickly as to finish before arriving at the school.

When he was ten I brought lots of friends home from college. We'd spend weekends eating real food, sleeping on floors all over the house, and playing video games, legos, and outside games. He joined in with the big kids and had a blast. My friend Matt told him about cool bands and Christopher immediately spent his money on their CDs.

He was twelve when I graduated from college. Fourteen when I got married. And 18 when Melody came along. Shortly after her birth he called our dear Uncle Jerry and said, "Tell me how to be a good uncle." Jerry's response, "Take her to 7-11 and buy her candy." So far Christopher has been an awesome uncle.