Halloween 2009

Despite the drizzling rain, we all enjoyed watching E's delight grow as she realized - for the first time ever - if you say "Trick or Treat" (on Halloween), people give you candy. To my dismay, she also figured out very quickly that if you let mama hold your candy, she eats the chocolate pieces when you aren't looking.

Posing with Indiana

Trick-or-Treating: Our Very First House

Downtown Halloween Candy Extravaganza

Enjoying our Spoils

Men Are From Mars

Yesterday was a tough day in our house. Through a long set of circumstances in which the details are irrelevant, I went to bed with the feeling that I was my husband's "second choice" that day - a feeling that topped off an otherwise already terrible day. During a long car ride together today, I opened up and tried to walk him through some choices that he made that I interpreted to mean that he was tired of hanging out with me and instead needed some "guy time" to kind of fill up.

I felt pretty dumb as I unpacked all of my insecurities in front of him. Though he probably knows me better than I even know myself, it still isn't all that fun to be gut-wrenchingly honest about my human insecurities. Worse still was the fact that all my assumptions were completely wrong. Once we started talking through it all, I soon found out that the choices that he made had nothing to do with how he felt about me and everything to do with the fact that he simply saw an opportunity to be a friend to one of his guys.

Oh, how different we women are from our men. And though it causes so much heartache sometimes, I always come back to something I read in a book by Gary Thomas (Sacred Marriage) a few years ago - something that sparked a revolution in the early years of our marriage. His question, in fact the entire premise of the book is this: "What if God intended marriage to make us holy more than to make us happy?" Or, in other words, what if marriage was more about finding our pleasure in God than finding our pleasure in each other or ourselves?

And what if, by some miracle, I were actually able to take a step back during the middle of marital conflict and see that - from God's holy and righteous perspective - all this conflict is actually for my good? That I am suffering for the sake of God's ultimate purpose of cultivating love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control in my heart?

The one who sows to please his sinful nature, from that nature will reap destruction; the one who sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life. Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will receive a harvest if we do not give up. (Galatians 6:8-9, NIV)

Grandparents and a Two-Year-Old

It's been a week full of grandparenting around here! We travelled over the weekend to see grandparents in South Carolina, then on to grandparents and great grandparents in North Carolina. Lots of fun, lots of sweet sweet memories, and lots of "2"-ish behavior. LOTS of it.

Thanks to access to TV (a luxury we don't offer at home), E has developed a crush on Blue, the canine star of the preschool show, Blue's Clues. I have to admit that I am encouraging it a little, as I am about to need some heavy incentives for potty training, and Blue is much more tolerable for this mama than Barney or Dora (and conveniently available via YouTube). I'm also working in a little Veggie Tales on the side, but since I'm guessing that Veggie Tales underwear is a little harder to come by than Blue's Clues, I'm hoping that the enjoyment of maybe both will stick around.

Words are beginning to morph into real phrases - not just the crazy jabber that we've heard up to this point. Some of my favorites from the weekend are most certainly, "Grandaddy, I want ice cream!" and "No way! Are you serious?" (a phrase she hears often from her daddy).

And, to my total embarrassment, she now points out the sign for Starbucks when we are driving down the road and says, "Coffee! Coffee, mama?" Yeah, that's nice...

A Seaman's Story

We spent some time on Monday morning with my husband's dad's dad (E's great-grandaddy Bost) and his wife, Jenny. When we went out for lunch, we somehow got on the topic of his history with the U.S. Navy during World War II, and I sat with a mouth open-wide as he told a story of how he - as an 18-year-old - not only survived a torpedo attack on the USS Donnell, a destroyer en route to Europe, but then also went on to join the forces in the attack on the beaches of Normandy.

At the time of the torpedo attack, he should have been asleep in his assigned bunk. Instead, he had traded bunks with another soldier that was on duty. If he had been in his assigned bunk, his life would have been taken along with the lives of the 29 other men that day. Instead, God had other plans.

He went back home after the war, back to his mom's house (who had signed a waiver for him to be able to join the Navy at the age of 17 at the time of the draft), back to his preacher to find out just why God had spared him his life that day. "I don't know why he chose to allow me to live that day," he said very candidly as we sat around the table.

Ohhhh...but I do Grandaddy Bost. I'm sure there's a million, but I've got living proof of one perfect little reason why God spared your life that day.

A Pumpkin Just My Size

Every year we carve pumpkins with the Bosts - L's dad, stepmom and brother, or now affectionately known as "Grandpa, Grandma, and Unca." E had a pumpkin that was just her size, and as it turned out, so did Indiana.

Time Flies By

I was thinking the other day that it just seems impossible how fast time has flown by this past year. Every time that E and I meet someone new, they always leave me with the same parting words: "Don't blink, because before you know it, she'll be headed off to college."

If the warp speed continues, I can easily see why they all say it.

I pull my video camera out every chance I get. I shoot pictures at every turn. I've even started blogging every little detail that I can manage to remember. And then I stumble across something like this, and I think...WAIT!!! That can't possibly be almost two years ago, can it?

A Traumatizing Event

I'm pretty sure I scarred my child for life today.

I picked her up from her sitter's house, with intentions of running a few errands with her that I thought she might enjoy. One of them, a first for her, was washing the car. I have fond memories of going through the car wash as a kid. I always thought it was pretty relaxing. I always wondered what it would be like to be standing outside of the car and feel the giant washcloths turn over you on both sides. I loved the scent of the car wax that always wafted through the air conditioning toward the end of the cycle. I remember thinking that the roof of the car would surely have permanent dents from the massive hair dryers at the end of the line. I assumed that E would feel the same way.

I assumed incorrectly. At the first sign of the huge, spinning brushes her face melted into a frown. When the giant washcloths appeared, the frown turned to anxiety. The sound of the jet-stream of water all around finally tipped her over into terror, and she started to cry. The only redeeming factor was the dryer at the end - she knows what a hair dryer is and was able to kind of equate the two, plus I think it also helped that she could finally see sunshine again.

I think we might stay away from the car wash for a while.