baby gear goodbyes

Today I gave away several baby items. A lady at church sent an email to the congregation, asking if anyone had baby gear. I guess she's expecting a grandson in a month or so, and they don't have much yet. I gave Melody's swing, bouncy seat and infant car seat. I found the swing at a garage sale, and the other items were given to us. I figured we might as well give it away if someone else needs it, and we can find good deals again when we have another baby someday. (The car seat is already four years old, so it will "expire" in one year.)

As I loaded my station wagon with the stuff, a wave of sentimental memories came over me. I thought back to three hour swing naps, showers with the bouncy seat nearby, and miles and miles of car time with the red & black used car seat. I ran inside the house, grabbed the phone, and called Chad.

"All of the sudden I'm not sure if we should give this stuff away. Do you think we should keep it? Or am I just being sentimental?"

"You didn't like the bouncy seat, remember? Next time we'll buy one that bounces better." With sweet reasoning, Chad suggested we give it away because others need it right now and we won't use it again anytime soon. At least that's the plan.

It seems like everyone around me is having their second baby. I posted about this a few days ago. Since that post, two more people have popped up pregnant. Part of me worries that I'll get left in the dust and be the only mama with just one baby. This is silly, I know... maybe it has do with fear of being left out? But when I truly consider having another baby, I'm not ready. I am enjoying this time with Melody so much. I don't want anything to distract from it. Of course, if we turned up surprise pregnant again, I'd be ecstatic. There's something really different about planning out an event and God just handing it to you unexpectedly.

laptop and headboard

My coffee turned out weak today. I'm drinking from a fun striped starbucks mug from my sister-in-law. She is a good gift-giver. She recently got a job at Starbucks, so we'll be getting free coffee every now and then. (Starbucks employees get a pound of free coffee a week.)

Last week was one of big purchases for me. First I ordered a new Mac!! For months we've been ready to buy a new laptop. When we moved in October we decided to keep our other house as a rental. It took four long months to find a renter. (Lesson: don't put a house on the market in October.) Paying two mortgages was not fun. We waited until we had renters to buy the computer, just to be safe. (Sidenote: our tenants are expecting their first baby. It was hard for me to leave Melody's first nursery, so this news made me happy. I hope they enjoy her aqua blue room.)

I decided to get a 14" iBook. I wanted a laptop because we are limited to dialup internet access at our house. This way, if I have to do heavy duty web photo searching or something like that, I can take the laptop to a wireless place and go crazy. It's also just so fun to have a laptop. For travel, for convenience, and for feeling cool. (Like Carrie Bradshaw.)

The other big purchase was a queen size headboard!!! Chad and I have been very slow in aquiring furniture. It's a foreign world to him. We have a bed. What's the purpose of a headboard? Well, on Saturday we decided to move our bed to a different spot in the room. (He likes to mix things up every few months. I prefer to find the right placement and keep it there, but whatever.) As we were deciding which wall to put the bed on, I sighed and said, "It doesn't matter. Let's just keep it away from the doorway so people in the hallway don't see it. It's ugly."

This is the point when he changed into a different person than my husband. He said, "We can get a headboard if you want."

"Really...?"

"Yea, why don't you go buy one today?"

"Really?!"

Less than five minutes later I was in my car, on the highway, heading toward Pier 1, with a huge smile plastered to my face. In the midst of my happy dancing thoughts came a question, "What happened to my husband?" I'd never seen this impulsive, nonchalant side of him before. I embraced it, obviously. (It's a good thing he doesn't tell me to buy things more often, because you can see that we'd be in trouble.)

At Pier 1 I picked a dark wood, asain inspired, queen size headboard. It was on sale for $229. It took us over five years to drop $229 on a headboard when we spend that kind of money on other things all the time. For instance, traveling. Three years ago we spent $1200 EACH on plane tickets to Africa. (That was actually a really good deal too.) It's also easy for us to spend money to help others. It feels good and right to send monthly help to the orphans we met in Africa. I'm glad we have deep pockets when it comes to giving.

It was such a different thrill to buy something for myself. As we set up the bed in our room last night I felt like a little girl. Afterward, I spent 2 hours folding laundry, vacuuming dust bunnies, putting away piles of random things, and hanging things on the walls. Typically, our room the one that goes unnoticed. This morning, it was fun to wake up to a clean, happy, furnished room. I made the bed right after I got up. (Unheard of.)

Back to the shopping day. On my drive home from the store, the question returned, "What happened to my husband?" I called him to say I was on my way. He said, "You'll need to use your 5% from the next few freelance jobs to pay for the headboard." Upon hearing his words a smile danced on my lips and contentedly thought, "Ah-ha. There's my husband."

(I use 5% of my freelance income for ME, whether that be toward furniture, decor, clothes, or mochas. It's a great incentive to get more work.)

about being home

We moved four months ago. I'm finally feeling settled in our new house. It takes me forever to get established in a new place. I am not one of those people who has stuff on the walls three days after moving. Try more like a year. It's bad, and I don't know why I'm this way. My mom and her mom are the same though. Those darn genes!

Awhile back I read an article in Real Simple magazine about organization and cleaning. I was mesmerized. The article made so much sense; I don't know why I can't think that way on my own. For instance, it said to keep things in the room where you will use them. So if I'm going to iron in my bedroom, store the iron in that room. Duh. As I unpacked, I followed this rule. Now the packaging tape, craft paper, wrapping paper, gift bags, are all together in the office. I put things together on my desk. It works like a charm.

I'm also figuring out a way to keep things tidy. I realized that Mondays are a good day for me to clean. I've had social interaction all weekend because Chad is home and we hang out with our friends. This makes me content to be home all day on Mondays. (Most weekdays I get stir crazy around 12:30, and I bolt outta the house like it's on fire. It's the curse of being an extrovert.)

So, last Monday I stayed home all day, cleaning, cleaning, cleaning. It felt so good. The rest of the week I simply tidied up each day. I love the way the kitchen/breakfast area looks when everything is put away. I have a lone square candle on the round kitchen table. When the room clean, I like the light the candle and enjoy the ambiance. I know, I know... what a thrill. I'm not positive I've found the secret to a clean home, but I think I'm on the right track, and I'm excited about it. When things are clean I have more creative ideas for life in general.

Another thing I'm excited about these days is my new babysitter. She's a college student and she comes over for two hours on Mondays and Wednesdays. I am paying her $6 a hour, plus $3 per trip, because we live about 20 minutes from the campus.

I look forward to this four hours of solace with all my heart. So far, I've been home each time she has been here. I go into the office, close the french doors, and get busy. I pay bills. prepare for my class, email, and get a grip on non-mom stuff. Even paying bills is fun when I can focus. My next huge task is to organize all the papers that have mounded up since 2004. I might have to have a babysitting marathon to get a handle on that project.

Aftering becoming a stay at home mom, I didn't have many problems adjusting to the mom part of the task. I love taking care of Melody's needs. The home part of the job has been harder for me to master. It's been 13 months and I'm finding my groove. It feels good.

my first rainbow

Three of my friends had babies recently. All of them gave birth to their second-borns. Seeing these newbies reminds me of so much. Memories of Melody's first year blur together, forming a colorful timeline in my mind.

When she was brand new I'd panic at the end of each day. Being up with her in the night was tedious. I dreaded the solitary task. The minutes clicked by so slowly as her needs kept my heavy eyelids from rest. Those difficult nights are the blue and purple memories.

Complementing them are brighter colors. These times are numerous and hold angelic hues of yellow and orange. Each day around 10:00am I'd marvel at how wonderful it was to be at home with my baby instead of at work. After working full time for 6 years, being home each day was a surreal change. We would lay side-by-side on the queen size bed. She nursed and I stared at her tiny body so close and warm and light. Occasionally I'd wake up to realize we'd both been asleep for hours, perhaps after one of the hard nights mentioned above. We shared baths, read Jane Austen, went for walks, danced slowly to Sinead O'Connor's, Thank You For Hearing Me, and stared at each other all the time.

I cannot leave out the vague grey memories. These come from foggy, tearful hours of confusion and unrest. It took four months for me to fully accept and realize I was depressed. The magnitude didn't dawn on me until an antidepressant began working. Here is where the greenest, happiest memory lies. Melody was late in her fourth month. One morning I bathed and dressed her. Then, as I held my clean fresh baby close, I sang to her. Somewhere in the middle of the song it came to me; it was the first time I'd ever sung to her. It was in that bright green moment that I knew taking the antidepressant was the right thing to do.

When Melody was nine months, we stopped breast feeding. Although I had misgivings about weaning before 12 months, it was a relief to stop wondering if my milk was enough for her. With this relief, came times of red and pink. I had new energy. My cycle returned and I lost the rest of the pregnancy weight. Melody and I played together more as she grew into an active infant. She loved the bucket swings at the park. String cheese became her favorite snack. She learned to say, "boo!" just like I did. It was also in during this time that I began to rock her to sleep each night. I'd sing and she'd nuzzle close, her head under my chin and her fingers in her mouth. I'd sing, Were You There. At the end of the song I'd add a stanza and sing,

Were you there when He gave me Melody?
Were you there when He gave me Melody?
Oh-oh-oh-oh, sometimes...
It causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when He gave me Melody?

Now she is 13 months old. The other day I started putting sparkly clips in her wispy hair. She wears regular shirts instead of onsies. She shows us news personality traits everyday. Sometimes sneaky. Other times shy. She's even been known to flirt on occasion!

As I am introduced to my friends' newborns, something inside me stirs. I think, "Ahh, so tiny and amazing and perfect," and I wonder if I'm ready for another. I remember the rainbow of Melody's first year. Part of me wants to remain with only one child for another year; to spend each day fully with her. Another part longs and hopes for a new baby to come and bring a new rainbow to my life.

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.