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thoughts for a wednesday. (73)

Today was busy and full. My thoughts took shape in every possible direction, and I soaked in all of the details, amazed and relieved that my ability to keep numerous things straight has seemingly returned. Naturally, I’m still letting some things simmer at this hour of the day, as I often do. But instead of being overly tired or overwhelmed by twelve hours away from the house in one stretch, I’m just content. There were plenty of random moments to laugh about, several to be grateful for and a few more that brought a sense of accomplishment. Tonight, I’m simply left with a smattering of random bits and pieces that I think are worth sharing for sharing’s sake:

-This morning, in an effort to get to our business phone before I missed a call, I nearly hurdled over the 25-ish lb. golden doodle puppy who hangs out where I work. Watching me attempt this particular feat at 7 months pregnant would probably have been comical on its own, but I scared the dog enough that he made a mad dash for the open exit to boot. His owner swept him up just in time to prevent a chaotic parking lot scene…it’s good to be kept on one’s toes at all hours of the day, and let’s face it–I like to keep things interesting.

-While checking out at Staples today, I turned to my right to see a middle-aged woman walking down the aisle wearing sweatpants with the word “PINK” printed in obnoxiously large letters across the behind. I’ve always thought these made good pajama or “around the house” type pants, but I’m not a terribly big fan of words printed like a bulletin board across someone’s bottom. Perhaps I’m too conservative or traditional. Still, if they look kind of tacky on a fifteen year old, then they don’t look better on someone pushing fifty. I’m just saying. These, tucked into cheetah print winter boots, made for a winning combination in the computer accessories aisle. I thought maybe Stacy and Cliton from What Not to Wear were lurking around the corner somewhere, but sadly, they were nowhere to be found. Is it just me? Or do we think we could retire the whole “PINK” across the tush in public trend before my daughter wants to wear it or my son wants to ogle it? I digress…

-In the next day or two, I’m going to attempt a mock-up of a necklace that I couldn’t help but fawn over on a favorite fashion website. Imagine my delight, when at lunch today I found all of the supplies I’ll need to craft my own–for less than a third of the price of the original! Not only do I have a great little project waiting for me now, but also the satisfaction of saving precious dollars and still getting to wear a fun new accessory. If it turns out the way I hope it will, I’ll post pics of the final product sometime soon.

-On a quick trip home to let the dog out between work and a meeting late this afternoon, I drove past a man building multiple snow-creatures in his yard. I don’t know why this delighted me so much, but I think I was grinning ear to ear at the sight. There’s something about the fact that he seemed so content with himself and what he was doing, even if the snow IS melting at a brilliant pace in this unseasonably amazing weather. It gave cause for me to stop reflect on the way that childlike joy knows no bounds when given the opportunity to flourish (and by this, I mean in a building-snowmen-by-oneself-at-the-age-of-fifty-something kind of way, and not so much a go-ahead-and-buy-the-attention-grabbing-sweatpants-despite-your-age kind of way). It was a highlight for sure. Made me want to build a snow-person myself. Seriously.

Oh, and did I mention that we met with a doula today and are highly considering the possibility for Baby K’s arrival? More on that in future posts, I’m sure! And one last thing…

…our family/belly pics arrived in the mail from the photographer yesterday, and I definitely have a few favorites. I promise to share them this week at some point, and possibly even tomorrow if time permits 🙂 I love this little baby and the belly it’s forming and the family it’s joining. Great things for an otherwise random day, no?

One last, last thing. Promise. We put our new bed frame together tonight, and I’m excited to give it a whirl. Points to IKEA for making it super-easy to assemble and exactly the kind of thing we were looking for to dress up the head and foot of our recently relocated bed.

chandelier. robin. postcard. constellation. because random words seem an appropriate end to such a random post.

mm

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honestly. (74)

I’m just over a quarter of the way through this 100 day challenge, and aside from being grateful to have regular documentation of my thought process and feelings on this journey toward motherhood, I’m also really thankful for the ways that it has caused me to be more introspective. I want to articulate real, honest sentiments here. And even if that makes me more vulnerable to the world than I’ve been in times past, I’m challenged (in a good way) to really share from my heart. On certain days, this means that I give significant thought to how I can best convey deep emotion or personal revelation, without jeopardizing confidentiality, integrity or relationships. It’s one thing to put myself out there for others to see, but it’s another entirely to bring supporting characters onto the stage.

There are days when it would be easier to just indulge and share everything I’m thinking–anecdotes and conversations and names and all. And I suppose I could do that. But there is a careful and cautious measure that comes with putting things in writing here–especially when the people and interactions in my daily life are naturally a part of what and how I process. I think I come here as much to digest as I do to hopefully inspire, motivate or resonate with an audience; it seems a delicate dance sometimes…

All of this “honest” thinking (and simultaneous blogging) tonight comes out of a day that poises me to consider where I really land. By this, I mean where I draw lines and boundaries for myself in friendship and as a person. What am I willing to compromise for the sake of being agreeable, or for the sake of not stepping on toes? Ruffling feathers?

If you know me personally, you know that I’m comfortable speaking up approximately 95% of the time. The other 5%? I reserve that for days like today, where I’m left feeling torn and just wanting to be honest and knowing exactly what I would say if I were to be blatantly, uncompromisingly truthful. The debate begins in my head and does a carousel-like spin around and around for a while, until I come to a point of decision, or I leave things as is–only to arrive back in the same place a few days or weeks or months later. And I’m starting to think that while it’s best not to just blurt out what I’m thinking in the moment, it might be healthier if I revisited conversations and still took the opportunity to be candidly (albeit, graciously) honest at some point. You know, after I’ve cooled off or vented to a trustworthy source or slept on it for a night or two.

The verdict is still out tonight.

So while I’m struggling with a few things that I won’t likely resolve in an evening (or even by the time I wake up to a new day), I’m going to make my best effort at continuing down an integrity-driven path. I don’t anticipate it will be easy or altogether without blemish. Still, I’ll try. In the meantime, I’ll be thankful today for the reminder that lifelong friendships are the 100%- honest-without-any-reservation kind. The kind where you can say what you feel, and you can do so without worry about what it will sound like across the table. The kind that pick up wherever they leave off, that are full of grace, that make you feel more like yourself when you encounter them. The kind that defend you and have your very best interest at heart–the ones that ache for you when you ache, as you do for them.

Today I’ll hold onto the feeling I had walking away from lunch, when I crossed the street and recalled a quote I’ve appreciated for a long time: “Ah, how good it feels! The hand of an old friend.” –Longfellow

I hope to fill my life with interactions that elicit such a joyful reflection. I hope to be the kind of friend who fills up others with the same.

And that’s me, just being honest.

mm

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confession. (81)

A number of months ago, I bought a brand new moleskine journal. I purchased it with the intent of unwrapping and filling it up without reservation. (For years, this brand and style has been my medium of choice for writing, and I love having a collection of uniform volumes to contain my more personal thoughts, notes, prayers, memories and ideas.) My previous moleskine wasn’t quite full, but at the time, it felt like life was entering a new chapter and it seemed like a good time to start fresh. So I carried the book around with me for a collection of weeks, moving it from bag to bag, and fully expected to need it at any given moment to capture an inspired word or a necessary prayer. While there have been plenty of times since then that I should have put pen to paper, the journal went unblemished. For far, far too long. I finally cracked it open today and inked it up for the first time.

A writer is hardly a writer if she doesn’t write.

I’ve been thinking about this very thing these days, and while I blog regularly now, there’s so much more that I don’t say–and that perhaps I should say, somewhere, before it gets lost in the abyss. When I finally started writing today, I felt a twinge of guilt and a little more, even, of disappointment. I know that there are sentiments I’d love to remember but will always forget because I didn’t write them down. I’d like to do a much better job of capturing life and emotion and memory than I’ve been doing, and I think that there’s value in it…so I’m going to try.

I don’t know what this will look like when the baby comes, or how I’ll stay motivated to write and blog daily when work and meetings and planning and exhaustion all stack themselves up together during the week, but I think it’s important. I’m telling you, because then I feel like there’s actually some accountability to the whole thing…a world of people out there who read once that I was going to write more. And somehow that matters to me.

I’ve been an irresponsible writer. I can do better. I want to do better. I love to write more than so many other things, and there’s nothing like a blank moleskine page to inspire. Pen and paper. I’m kind of old-fashioned like that.

between the lines,

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trusty companion. (85)

It’s been a long few days around here, but after Wednesday’s events, Jason’s being sick until this morning and my getting sick last night, one thing is certain–Kruger is a trusty and concerned companion for the journey. Even as I write this, he is at my feet by the couch and waiting for me to head to bed in a short bit. Normally, he puts himself to bed between 9 and 10pm each night; he gives us one last look and then heads upstairs to call it a day. But when we’re sick? Wandering around the house with a glazed over look and napping more than usual? Kruger checks in every so often to make sure everything’s kosher. I’m convinced he’s even less needy when we’re under the weather.

What is it about a dog’s uncanny sense that something is out of sorts, I wonder? I’m convinced that Kruger has known for a long time that “mom’s pregnant,” with his ever increasing attentiveness to me and his determination to follow me wherever I go. He models our behavior and mood, glancing over with a gloomy look on his face as if to say, “I hope this passes soon, Mom. This makes me uneasy. Are you ok?”

Some people are dog people, others prefer cats, and some, absolutely no animal at all. I know I gripe sometimes about our frequent need for a vacuum around here, or the fact that Kruger just tracked snow all over a clean kitchen floor, but really…the upkeep factor seems a small price to pay for a dog who certainly “has our backs,” so-to-speak.

Tomorrow, when I’m feeling better (I hope) and things are bit more back to normal around here, I can guarantee that Kruger will be back to his usual self as well. His tail will come wagging on my side of the bed in the morning, the familiar thump-thump-thump waking me from a comfortable sleep or saving me from getting up too late. He’ll string us along as can be expected, come running when he hears the sound of the ice maker and look longingly at the back door when he’d like to play in the snow. I love the “little” guy (who happens to turn two on Monday:).

We’re looking forward to introducing him to the baby in a few more months, and we know that he’ll be just as trusty a companion then as he’s ever been.

kruger with jason. floor time!

telling kruger he's going to be a big brother 🙂

at the tulip time parade, one month after we brought him home. love.

the fam at dogarama in downtown zeeland this past august. makes me smile!

definitely a dog person,

mm

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movement. (90)

While painting today, I asked Jason what he thought we might be doing with all of our wintry weekends if we weren’t getting ready for baby. Neither one of us could decide, which got me thinking. It’s amazing how our lives move fluidly from one season into the next, finding room for the latest event or preparations, without edging out everything else we would otherwise have going on. I suppose this isn’t always the case, but it sure feels like we suddenly have very carved out time to get ready for this next big adventure. Don’t get me wrong; there’s still stress about decisions, and days we’d rather be lounging or visiting with friends (or sledding!) when instead we’re inside painting and pouring ourselves over nursery websites. Still, I’m grateful that things just work out the way they do. I’m grateful that we originally planned to have the nursery painted at the end of December, so that we were able to prioritize and shift things around and still get it all done long before the kiddo needs a place to sleep outside my belly.

As much as “grow” is my word for the year and I’m trying to order myself around the concept, “movement” would be another very appropriate term to add to the mix. It certainly seems that everything is moving these days. We’ve moved beds and other furniture, moved items out of closets, moved baby things into the house and moved poor Kruger out of his cozy nook and into our new room. We’ve moved dates around on the calendar to see what fits best, paint cans and boxes in the basement and, in Jason’s case, LOTS of snow.

I’d be remiss not to note the most present addition of movement in our daily lives over the past 14 weeks since the first flutter–Baby K is moving around at all hours, reminding and delighting me of his or her presence and assuring us that there is growth and life abundant within me. It’s been intriguing to observe patterns and watch-setting punctuality on the baby’s part; we can always count on a little belly wave first thing in the morning, mid-afternoon between 2:30 and 3p, and at night, like clockwork, just before 8:30pm (and until the wee hours). Baby either likes or dislikes very cold water and very much likes music, the sound of our pastor’s voice and when I talk to Kruger and tell him he’s being good. I think this is fabulous.

Kicks and tiny punches have turned into rolls and more flutters over the past week–I am so full of baby and my belly is taking its time growing. I feel like I’ve just eaten a big meal after a few bites and can no longer belt out songs to the radio without feeling like I just got in a good run. I can’t imagine the little one likes this very much at (according to babycenter.com anyway) around two pounds and the size of a head of cauliflower. The fruit and vegetable comparisons each week crack me up, but I will need my belly to give a little bit more to manage the pumpkin and watermelon I’ve read are in my future. Ah, the joys!

As we move towards lots of great things in the next few months–our fourth anniversary, Jason’s birthday and the peanut’s arrival, it seems like everything in our paths will just kind of jump on the bandwagon along the way. I pray that the necessary and beautiful things get swept up to come along for the ride, and that the minutia, inevitable worries and unimportant details will all find their own river to skate away on. In the meantime, we’re moving in a positive direction, with all of the growth that we can manage well on the journey.

Life is kind of like a pregnant belly in that way–adapting and changing and taking shape to make room for the important things, and adjusting back when the timing is just right. It’s not always comfortable, or even the most natural feeling thing, but it sure can be beautiful and celebrated. We carry it daily, and depending on our perspective, we determine it glorious or prohibitive or both. I hope I always feel about life as I do this belly. I carry it with me so full of joy and hope and inspiration, and I can’t wait to meet what it holds.

moving and growing,

mm