My consolidation of blogs is now complete. To continue reading my blog, please refer to: http://raisingdinah.blogspot.com/
I will no longer be posting at this address.
Thanks for reading!!
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Friday, November 5, 2010
Good News
Good news! I haven't fallen off the face of the earth. Not yet, anyway. The combination of a new baby, and very spotty internet service have made it quite difficult to keep up with a blog. I am considering a blog overhaul, including a consolidation of this blog and the one I used for documenting my pregnancy.
Oh pregnancy, how I'm glad you're no longer a part of my life!
I'm currently working it over in my head, so once that is done and I have some time...I'll be about 40 years old. Well, either way, I'm still considering it. Consider yourself warned.
Oh pregnancy, how I'm glad you're no longer a part of my life!
I'm currently working it over in my head, so once that is done and I have some time...I'll be about 40 years old. Well, either way, I'm still considering it. Consider yourself warned.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Things I've Learned...
In light of the fact that tomorrow is my baby's 3 Week birthday, here are some things I've learned about her...well, I'm going to call it a birthday, but don't worry I don't give her cake to celebrate. In fact, I don't even give myself cake to celebrate...but now that the idea has crossed my mind, I'm going to make myself some cookies for the occasion. That is, if I ever get the chance in the midst of caring for a 3-week-old baby.
Anyway, here are some things I've learned about my precious child:
1. She has a new hobby. It involves being perfectly content with life, until I decide to eat lunch. She likes to see how long she can postpone my nourishment, and she is quite proficient at it.
2. I love her. I suppose I knew this would happen, but I didn't entirely understand it. I mean, I love everything about her. I love her pitiful little whimper, her facial expressoins (especially when she raises one eyebrow), her little fingers and toes, her soft head, how much she looks like her daddy...you get the idea.
3. When she hiccups, it sounds like a squeak toy.
4. She sometimes curls up on my lap and goes to sleep with her head resting on her hand and on her foot at the same time.
5. She LOVES her Daddy. More than anything. Seriously. Not fair.
Anyway, here are some things I've learned about my precious child:
1. She has a new hobby. It involves being perfectly content with life, until I decide to eat lunch. She likes to see how long she can postpone my nourishment, and she is quite proficient at it.
2. I love her. I suppose I knew this would happen, but I didn't entirely understand it. I mean, I love everything about her. I love her pitiful little whimper, her facial expressoins (especially when she raises one eyebrow), her little fingers and toes, her soft head, how much she looks like her daddy...you get the idea.
3. When she hiccups, it sounds like a squeak toy.
4. She sometimes curls up on my lap and goes to sleep with her head resting on her hand and on her foot at the same time.
5. She LOVES her Daddy. More than anything. Seriously. Not fair.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Ma Familia: Daddy Dearest
Last week, I had all intentions of continuing with my spotlights on family, and writing about my dad. It didn’t happen. I started to a few times, but couldn’t quite find the right words. It’s a hard topic for me. I love my dad, but talking about him is a source of great hurt for me. I’ve always thought he was one of the best people I’ve ever known. I still think that. I was daddy’s little girl, and that relationship has helped shape the person I am today. I have some great memories of my Dad. What’s the problem then, right?
The problem is that he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease when I was very young. The problem is that I was stuck watching one of the most important people in my life to suffer, unable to do a thing about it. It’s heartbreaking. It’s something I’ve struggled with talking about for a very long time. Even now, I’ve been married for three years, and have a friend that I can share absolutely anything and everything with, and I find it hard to talk about that topic. In a way, his health has changed the way I think of him. Sure, I remember the good things, the great times, the things he taught me. But, then I remember what it’s done to my family, and how it’s shaped my life, and what I’ve missed out on, and what I used to have. So often, I think of something I wish I could call and ask my dad about, or I wish he could come visit me or help with our house. And now, I think about my relationship with my grandpas, how wonderful a grandpa my dad would’ve made, and how much my daughter will miss out on. I find a little comfort in knowing that she will at least have one Grandpa who loves her as much as we do, who plays with her, who supports her, and who encourages her.
Just like I wish my husband could’ve known my Dad when he was well. I know I’ll wish the same for my daughter. She would’ve stood on his feet as they danced in the living room. He would’ve told her jokes, taught her to whistle, teased her and made her laugh. He would have taught her about honesty, and love, and family. He would’ve told her how pretty she was, how talented she was, and how much worth she had, to God and to us. He would’ve helped shape her in the ways he helped shape me.
The problem is that he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease when I was very young. The problem is that I was stuck watching one of the most important people in my life to suffer, unable to do a thing about it. It’s heartbreaking. It’s something I’ve struggled with talking about for a very long time. Even now, I’ve been married for three years, and have a friend that I can share absolutely anything and everything with, and I find it hard to talk about that topic. In a way, his health has changed the way I think of him. Sure, I remember the good things, the great times, the things he taught me. But, then I remember what it’s done to my family, and how it’s shaped my life, and what I’ve missed out on, and what I used to have. So often, I think of something I wish I could call and ask my dad about, or I wish he could come visit me or help with our house. And now, I think about my relationship with my grandpas, how wonderful a grandpa my dad would’ve made, and how much my daughter will miss out on. I find a little comfort in knowing that she will at least have one Grandpa who loves her as much as we do, who plays with her, who supports her, and who encourages her.
Just like I wish my husband could’ve known my Dad when he was well. I know I’ll wish the same for my daughter. She would’ve stood on his feet as they danced in the living room. He would’ve told her jokes, taught her to whistle, teased her and made her laugh. He would have taught her about honesty, and love, and family. He would’ve told her how pretty she was, how talented she was, and how much worth she had, to God and to us. He would’ve helped shape her in the ways he helped shape me.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Heads Up!
Ever have trouble getting your kids/husband to eat their veggies? I just may have a solution.
Check out Three Meals & a Baby for a chance to win Jessica Seinfeld's cookbook, Deceptively Delicious.
While you're at it, stick around and read about life as a preacher's wife, with one adorable & clever toddler.
Check out Three Meals & a Baby for a chance to win Jessica Seinfeld's cookbook, Deceptively Delicious.
While you're at it, stick around and read about life as a preacher's wife, with one adorable & clever toddler.
Happy Birthday, Grandma!
I’ve spotlighted several of my family members over the past several months. I didn’t really plan it that way, but once I started; I felt it had to be continued. It all started with my Grandpa last October around his 90th birthday. Since then, I’ve talked about my Mother, my older brother, my younger brother, my other Grandpa, and one of my Grandmothers. Today, because I haven’t honored her yet, and because it’s her birthday, I feel it appropriate to mention my Grandma, Jane. She is my youngest grandparent (at age 82 as of today), married to my oldest Grandpa at nine years his junior, and is the mother of four daughters, including, of course, my own mother. I fully expect this description to be a gross understatement and underestimate of the great qualities my grandmother possesses, simply because the preceding family spotlights have all been such. It seems I just don’t have the time, or the space, and probably not the words to adequately describe the character of these people.
My Grandmother grew up in the country, in the midst of the Great Depression, with the stock market crash occurring around her first birthday. Her family taught her to work hard, and it’s a lesson she learned well. She went from working on her family’s farm on an Oklahoma river bottom, to getting married at age 17, to raising four little girls in a tiny, drafty house. Her later life, in which I’ve known her, has looked much different. I am the seventh of ten grandchildren. In my lifetime, she has been a school cook, home gardener, bait shop co-owner, daughter, sister, mother, aunt, wife, grandmother, and great-grandmother. As a cook, she worked tirelessly to make sure the kids she served were fed nutritious, well-balanced meals while they were at school. School lunches have changed dramatically since her career as head-cook, but that’s another story.
As a mother, she kept her children clothed, fed, clean and safe. As a grandmother, she has done everything possible to keep me clothed, fed, and safe. She didn’t play games with me, like my other Grandma. Instead, she carved out cucumbers to make me a sailboat, provided old sheets for me to make tents in her living room, and she took me fishing. She has worked tirelessly her entire life to care for her family, and she still does so today. Today, she’s 82 and has a husband who is almost 91, children ranging from 57-62, grandchildren ranging from 22-41, and great-grandchildren ranging from 0-16. And she still, to this day, in some way, on any given day, does something to take care of one of them. I’m thankful for my grandma. I could never convey the extent to which she’s shaped my life, and I pray that I will love my children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren the way she has loved hers.
My Grandmother grew up in the country, in the midst of the Great Depression, with the stock market crash occurring around her first birthday. Her family taught her to work hard, and it’s a lesson she learned well. She went from working on her family’s farm on an Oklahoma river bottom, to getting married at age 17, to raising four little girls in a tiny, drafty house. Her later life, in which I’ve known her, has looked much different. I am the seventh of ten grandchildren. In my lifetime, she has been a school cook, home gardener, bait shop co-owner, daughter, sister, mother, aunt, wife, grandmother, and great-grandmother. As a cook, she worked tirelessly to make sure the kids she served were fed nutritious, well-balanced meals while they were at school. School lunches have changed dramatically since her career as head-cook, but that’s another story.
As a mother, she kept her children clothed, fed, clean and safe. As a grandmother, she has done everything possible to keep me clothed, fed, and safe. She didn’t play games with me, like my other Grandma. Instead, she carved out cucumbers to make me a sailboat, provided old sheets for me to make tents in her living room, and she took me fishing. She has worked tirelessly her entire life to care for her family, and she still does so today. Today, she’s 82 and has a husband who is almost 91, children ranging from 57-62, grandchildren ranging from 22-41, and great-grandchildren ranging from 0-16. And she still, to this day, in some way, on any given day, does something to take care of one of them. I’m thankful for my grandma. I could never convey the extent to which she’s shaped my life, and I pray that I will love my children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren the way she has loved hers.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Countdown...T-minus 23 days...or LESS
Can I ask you a very important question? WHERE did the month of August go? I’ve noticed the older I get, the faster time seems to go. This is getting ridiculous, though. I have this sneaky suspicion that a baby is only going to speed things up even more. The merry-go-round just keeps spinning faster. It’s only a matter of time until the dizziness gets to be too much, and I throw up all over any innocent bystanders. There’s also a distinct possibility that I have too much imagination for my own good.
I’ve spent the past eight and a half months going back and forth between excitement and panic. I’ve really enjoyed the past three years of married life, just the two of us. What have we gotten ourselves into? By now, my mind has started to calm and I’m getting anxious for the next step. I keep thinking about the day when I’ll call into work, and say I’m not coming. God has really changed my heart. I’m finally ready. I’m not ready in the sense that we still have no kitchen sink, and the living room is still a construction zone. But, in my heart, I’m ready for what lies ahead. It’s a good thing too, because it’s all going to break loose in the next three weeks.
I’ve spent the past eight and a half months going back and forth between excitement and panic. I’ve really enjoyed the past three years of married life, just the two of us. What have we gotten ourselves into? By now, my mind has started to calm and I’m getting anxious for the next step. I keep thinking about the day when I’ll call into work, and say I’m not coming. God has really changed my heart. I’m finally ready. I’m not ready in the sense that we still have no kitchen sink, and the living room is still a construction zone. But, in my heart, I’m ready for what lies ahead. It’s a good thing too, because it’s all going to break loose in the next three weeks.
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