That's what it's like to believe. . .

I am a creature of habit.

I always order the veggie and tofu wrap with fried okra at the EARL.

I always check my alarm clock before falling asleep.

I always leave the coffee grinds in the coffee maker when I leave for work.

(Much to Geoff's chagrin.)

And on Saturday mornings, I get up, make coffee, and eat breakfast with Annika while watching a Nick Jr., Sprout, or PBS kids' show.

Except this morning, we ate breakfast in the living room in a tent.

It was awesome.

Afterward, I went for a run. While huffing my way through four miles, I realized that I used to dread change. Now, I actually crave it.

Maybe it was the forced change that I've experienced over the last month. My job position was cut, my grandmother was diagnosed with advanced lymphoma, our house has had zero showings over the last thirty days, the pastor that we adore announced his departure, and our hopes to grow our family are dwindling.

All changes that I wasn't asking for, but God brought them on anyway.

These changes are just a few weeks old, but I've already come to total peace with all of them.

I'll enjoy twenty more days with my Butterbean next summer, now that I'm a 200 day employee. I'll treasure my Mimi even more than I did.( And she's a real fighter according to her latest CAT scan!) I love my backyard, so why not stay where we are? Pastor David needs a change, and Pastor Heather already intrigues me. I'm up to the challenge of raising a single child.

There's this fantastic song on my iPod shuffle by Francesca Battistelli called, "I'm Letting Go". One of the lyrics says, "It feels like I'm falling, and that's what it's like to believe."

I can honestly say that at this point of my life, I can do just that. . . believe.

So bring on the changes, God.

Experiencing faith

I've been thinking about hope and faith a lot over the last few weeks.

I'm not sure that you can fully experience either one without some "free fall" moments sprinkled in your life. I remember being in middle school and going to Six Flags with my friend, Stacy. We waited in a line for 30-45 minutes to ride one of the newer attractions- "Free Fall". We sat on the bench, buckled up, and held our breath as the contraption climbed higher and higher. Then the machine launched us into nothingness, and we fell suddenly and quickly. I was sick to my stomach and thrilled at the same time. I remember that although I was terrified during those few short seconds, I had faith that I would be okay when I reached the bottom of the ride.

Since then, I've had some of these moments in my real life. God has taken me and launched me into nothingness.

Thrilling and sickening all at once, every single time. I've always come out of it with a better sense of who I am and who He has called me to be.

A few weeks ago my grandmother, affectionately called Mimi, was diagnosed with advanced lymphoma. The very next day she began chemotherapy.

Mimi with Annika-Easter 2009

One day, she's a generally healthy woman who volunteers, attends church, walks daily, and enjoys life and the curves it throws her. The next day, she's a cancer patient.

She was shocked, as were we all.

But she's fighting, and she's having faith that she will conquer this.

And. . . she's rocking her wig.

Sprung!

This past weekend was the first nice one, and we took full advantage! My gardeners and I bought tulips, irises, dahlias, and marigolds to plant in our favorite space. With our house on the market, we decided not to plant any long term items this year. I'm already fighting the urge to dig up all of my favorites if we get a contract on the house!

Do you still have yours?

Loveys.

You've seen the fear in the eyes of a mom who just realized that Lovey is at home when she desperately needs it for her screaming child in the middle of aisle four, right?

Annika adores her Lovey. It is soft, pink, fluffy, and very well-loved.

(Thanks to my wonderful gift-giving friend Anna for the gift of Lovey when Butterbean arrived!)

In fact, when I realized that Annika loved her Lovey as much as I did, I ordered two more so that I would never experience the above-mentioned fear.

[ By the way the three Lovey trick fails once your all knowledgeable toddler realizes that you have two more (TWO MORE, MOMMY?!?) in her sock drawer.]

Anyway, recently Annika found my Lovey, otherwise known as a very loved Raggedy Ann doll. My mom received Raggedy Ann as a gift the Christmas before I was born. She planned my nursery, clothing, and dishes (still have these too!) around the theme. Raggedy Ann slept with me throughout my childhood, then to college, and she even moved with me to my first apartment. I've never been without her for long.

She's wounded and falling apart, but aren't we all?

I completely broke into tears when Annika saw Raggedy Ann on her shelf and asked, "Who's that, Mommy?" She immediately wanted to hold her, mend her many boo-boos, and has slept with her every night since.



I know that Raggedy Ann will fall apart before Annika passes her to her own children, but a mom can hope, right?

Who can I turn to? 867-5309

I suppose that every working mother has a fear of missing out on something in her child's life due to her career. I know that I do. It was much worse in the beginning . . . believe it or not it gets better once your child can actually communicate what happened during her day.

i.e. Me: Annika how was your day at school?

Butterbean: Atticus screamed at me, and I pushed Atticus down because I had the Weeble Wobbles first! We went to library too, Mommy.

Nice summarizing skills, huh?

These days, the biggest reason that I feel less guilt about leaving my precious little girl every Monday through Friday is Jenni.

Jenni is the owner of Urban Explorers Preschool, and we are fortunate that she is also Annika's teacher. I first met Jenni at a community parent event. She was there advertising her soon-to-be-opened daycare in a bordering neighborhood. She was passionate, fun, and excited about her new endeavor. It just so happened that I had just received a new job and had three weeks to find a new daycare. We reserved the second to last spot the next week!

Why do I adore Jenni? She does this every single day:

(This is one of her 2008 journal entries.)

And she documented when my toddler made a pattern on her own a couple of weeks ago...

. . . and last week she saved this for me. Annika's first drawing of a person is in the top right corner.

Do I often wish I could spend every day playing, creating, imagining, drawing, singing, reading, and dancing with my sweet little Butterbean?

Of course!

But in the meantime, I'm sure glad that we have Jenni.

Will I ever earn that letter?

Several months ago after completing my first marathon, an old rival high school friend sent me a message via Facebook. His message was a nice congratulatory statement punctuated by the phrase, "I never knew you were a runner." I had to remind my old pal that the reason we met was because we both ran cross-country for our respective high schools. He was slightly embarrassed for not remembering, but it actually summed up my early running career rather nicely.

Sure, I ran in high school. But only because my friend Korie signed up for the team and needed a sidekick for comic relief.

Poor Coach Blankenship! It was all he could do to coax one to two miles out of us at weekly practice. I had bird legs, was notoriously clumsy (and have the knee scars to prove it), and carried/puffed on my inhaler during every single run. I ran a very slow three mile race, and I only lettered because you had to earn a letter as a senior. (I'm sorry, but even then I was against participation awards-letters should be earned, just like trophies!)

And to top it all off, apparently I ran in a pair of my mom's old tennis shoes!?!

In hindsight, it's really kind of humiliating.

Running is now one of my favorite things to do. I tend to obsess over my training schedule and revel in my mileage sums (however low they may be). Running is my time to think, huff and puff (minus the inhaler these days), refocus my energy, and reflect on my life.

Coach (and Korie) would be proud.

While attempting to push Annika up a hill in the jogging stroller yesterday, she said, "Mommy, why are you breathing like a tiger?"

Apparently, the humiliating runs aren't competely over. . .

Blind Dating 101

I am so thankful that at the age of 29 I went out on my 20th blind date.
Believe me, I had enough horrible dates (both blind and not) that my friends and family would have completely understood if I refused to go on any more.
I continued to put myself out there.
My motto was, "If I don't have a good time, at least I'll have a good story."
My 20th blind date turned out to be both.