Teaching this morning was so FUN! A real school with real students, not like the college-in-a-box that hired me last fall. I was afraid I would run out of material and I barely got through everything I wanted to say about the chapter we were discussing. It was so fun to put on real grown-up clothes and lipstick(!) for a couple hours too (although I jumped right back in to the shorts/t-shirt ensemble when I got home.) I think this is going to be a great experience and I hope they hire me again next quarter. Doesn't hurt that this will pay for our medical insurance either!
I'm finally getting around to scheduling check-ups for Ainslie and I. I am overdue for my annual and Ainslie needs a shot sometime before she's 2 and a half. Yikes. She is almost 2 and a half. It's hard to pick a pediatrician here because we have the 'other' network, so even though we o know a handful of kids, nobody has a good recommendation. I will ask at our new gymnastics class tomorrow and see if anyone knows. Luckily, we don't have any special needs. Knocking on wood, since Ainslie has always been healthy and hearty.
Speaking of sick kids, my heart just aches for C and Z and all they are going through right now. I never want to be in the position of seeing my child suffer like that. It broke my parents. 10 years later, and they are still not who they used to be. That has been a major turning point in my life; the moment I realized something was so broken that mom and dad couldn't fix it. Of course they have happy times, and Ainslie is a brilliant bright spot--they have friends, they take trips, but I know that there is just this constant weight on their hearts that nothing will lighten.
Continuing on my stream of babble, mom and dad are coming through town tomorrow. Yay. I keep hoping that next time, they can stay at Our House! In the meantime, Ainslie likes going to see them in the hotels with indoor pools.
Enough babbling. Ainslie will be up from her nap soon. She had a big morning with Grandpa. I came home and she was eating a happy meal (with a really cool Ariel crown), had a new stuffed animal, and had ridden the merry-go-round. Twice.
Oh, speaking of Ariel, one more thing. I'm pretty sick of those princesses. They don't do anything. Blech. That said, I will probably purchase the Little Mermaid dvd in the next couple weeks because I do think Ainslie would enjoy it, and watching dvds is an effective bribe at the moment.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Static Status Quo
I'm really, really trying to Bloom Where I am Planted. I got a job. I've put Ainslie in activities, we have an offer in on a house; but you know, there is still that overwhelming feeling of Real Life being on hold. It's amazing how much being in your own space defines what you do and how you do it. Here we are, reticent to join certain organizations, even a church, because we don't know for sure where we will be living and when we will be living there.
Should we move forward even more? I really think that putting an offer in on a house was a good step--we're taking control of the things we can control, to some degree, but now what? We pray, we wait, we hope, we lower the price.
In some ways it's like waiting for Ainslie to be conceived. Ok, THAT was much harder and more agonizing, but it was always a question of, "when we have a baby..." Now, it's, "when we are in our new house..." There are hopes and dreams and decorating schemes we can't wait to get started on, yet we have to.
I have some friends who have been through similar situations (both with babies and houses) and I know it'll work out. I know it will. When I start to doubt our decision to move here, something always happens to reassure me, but still...how much longer?
Should we move forward even more? I really think that putting an offer in on a house was a good step--we're taking control of the things we can control, to some degree, but now what? We pray, we wait, we hope, we lower the price.
In some ways it's like waiting for Ainslie to be conceived. Ok, THAT was much harder and more agonizing, but it was always a question of, "when we have a baby..." Now, it's, "when we are in our new house..." There are hopes and dreams and decorating schemes we can't wait to get started on, yet we have to.
I have some friends who have been through similar situations (both with babies and houses) and I know it'll work out. I know it will. When I start to doubt our decision to move here, something always happens to reassure me, but still...how much longer?
Monday, September 18, 2006
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Dogs, Cats, and Vegetables
As if four adults, a toddler, and nine (yes, nine) animals were not enough, for the past couple weeks this house has also been home to two vegetables, namely Bob and Larry. For the uninitiated, that would be Bob the Tomato and Larry the Cucumber.
I love this toddler imagination. I love that Ainslie invented Mimi the cat and BagoBago the dog months ago. Today, in the vet's office, I told Ainslie that someday she could have her own cat, and she looked at me rather quizzically and said, "I have Mimi."
So anyway, I don't even remember what prompted Bob and Larry to come live with us, but they just pop up everywhere. The tend to travel on my elbow, so to amuse them, I spin around and give them rides. In the car, they ride in the cupholders. When Ainslie sets them down, they hop along wherever we are going. They like to sleep in Ainslie's pockets.
Honestly, I didn't come up with any of this--it's all Ainslie. I love this kid.
I love this toddler imagination. I love that Ainslie invented Mimi the cat and BagoBago the dog months ago. Today, in the vet's office, I told Ainslie that someday she could have her own cat, and she looked at me rather quizzically and said, "I have Mimi."
So anyway, I don't even remember what prompted Bob and Larry to come live with us, but they just pop up everywhere. The tend to travel on my elbow, so to amuse them, I spin around and give them rides. In the car, they ride in the cupholders. When Ainslie sets them down, they hop along wherever we are going. They like to sleep in Ainslie's pockets.
Honestly, I didn't come up with any of this--it's all Ainslie. I love this kid.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Carrie Jane Foresee June 1, 1980-September 3, 1996
Carrie-Bear,
I really can't believe it's been a decade today since you passed away from us. I remember thinking at the time that someday it would get easier to bear; at some point I wouldn't miss you so much. I realize now that is foolish, for although I carry you with me always, you are always too far away, and I miss you terribly.
I still believe you were there with me that night, in our old room at home. I can still remember so vividly the weight (your weight) on the bed as you told me that you would speak to me in dreams so we could remain close, and you have, although maybe not as much lately, when my mind is so full of other clutter.
I've never felt sorry for you; you are perfect, full of knowledge and with the Lord. I know Heaven is a much funnier place with you there. I do, however, feel sorry for myself almost daily, and I'm sorry if that is selfish, but there are so many things I wish we could share in this life. Of course I wish you were here to be a real, tangible part of Ainslie's life. Although she does still look primarily like Craig, she is looking more like me, and if you put pictures of all three of us at age 2 in a row, we all look like the same girl. She has your sense of humor. She thinks Booger is a hilarious word. She has some of your facial expressions, which is such a blessing, but also a constant reminder that you are not here with us. She almost has your birthday, and she was conceived on a cycle that began September 3rd. I wonder if you and she met before she came here.
I often wonder what you'd be doing in your life by now, at the ripe old age of 26. Your friends are getting married and having babies. Sometimes I think you'd be a globetrotting educator, like Heather, and other times I think maybe you would have been perfectly content to live in Slater like you talked about...but I think you'd be seeing more of the world.
I'm slowly turning into Mom, and you are not here to slap me like you always said you would.
You know, I learned so many lessons from you, the Much Littler Sister, and I am still learning from you and your exuberance. Somehow, at 16, you knew what was really important and what was just silly. Fortunately, we all learned that sometimes the silliness is what is really important.
Today really shouldn't be sadder than any other day; it's just such a milestone. 10 years. In 6 more years you will have been gone as long as you were here, yet your time here will always seem larger. Until Ainslie, you were the one person in the world genetically most similar to me, and even with our age difference, you know, we just had that connection. We get each other.
As much as I miss you, mostly I am terribly grateful that of all the sisters in the world, I got to be yours. I'll see you someday--I expect you to be right there to teach me some more.
Love You Always,
Sissy
I really can't believe it's been a decade today since you passed away from us. I remember thinking at the time that someday it would get easier to bear; at some point I wouldn't miss you so much. I realize now that is foolish, for although I carry you with me always, you are always too far away, and I miss you terribly.
I still believe you were there with me that night, in our old room at home. I can still remember so vividly the weight (your weight) on the bed as you told me that you would speak to me in dreams so we could remain close, and you have, although maybe not as much lately, when my mind is so full of other clutter.
I've never felt sorry for you; you are perfect, full of knowledge and with the Lord. I know Heaven is a much funnier place with you there. I do, however, feel sorry for myself almost daily, and I'm sorry if that is selfish, but there are so many things I wish we could share in this life. Of course I wish you were here to be a real, tangible part of Ainslie's life. Although she does still look primarily like Craig, she is looking more like me, and if you put pictures of all three of us at age 2 in a row, we all look like the same girl. She has your sense of humor. She thinks Booger is a hilarious word. She has some of your facial expressions, which is such a blessing, but also a constant reminder that you are not here with us. She almost has your birthday, and she was conceived on a cycle that began September 3rd. I wonder if you and she met before she came here.
I often wonder what you'd be doing in your life by now, at the ripe old age of 26. Your friends are getting married and having babies. Sometimes I think you'd be a globetrotting educator, like Heather, and other times I think maybe you would have been perfectly content to live in Slater like you talked about...but I think you'd be seeing more of the world.
I'm slowly turning into Mom, and you are not here to slap me like you always said you would.
You know, I learned so many lessons from you, the Much Littler Sister, and I am still learning from you and your exuberance. Somehow, at 16, you knew what was really important and what was just silly. Fortunately, we all learned that sometimes the silliness is what is really important.
Today really shouldn't be sadder than any other day; it's just such a milestone. 10 years. In 6 more years you will have been gone as long as you were here, yet your time here will always seem larger. Until Ainslie, you were the one person in the world genetically most similar to me, and even with our age difference, you know, we just had that connection. We get each other.
As much as I miss you, mostly I am terribly grateful that of all the sisters in the world, I got to be yours. I'll see you someday--I expect you to be right there to teach me some more.
Love You Always,
Sissy
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