Misunderstood

Pictures speak louder than words.

Save the drama for your mama!

Oh . . . she did.

Kitchen sink friends

Sometimes I am jealous of people who have the gift of musical ability (Pam). At other times I covet the gifts of the financially focused (April) or those who seem to exercise EVERY single time they say they will (Lori).

But lately, I have dreamed of being a dishwasher.

Do you have dishwashing friends? You know, those friends who are content to clean up the mess in the back while you relish in the company of visitors.

I am a little embarrassed to admit that I have never been this friend. I quite enjoy being right in the middle of the activity. In fact, I hate to leave the room until everyone else has departed.

What if something exciting or fun happened after I left?

Lately I have realized just how grateful I am to my dishwashing friends. There's Laura and Melanie at church, Carrie at Book Club, Brenda at work, Ingrid, Paul, and Thora in Norway,

and then there's Cindy throughout it all.

These people are the spine of the Body of Christ.

I am praying that even though I'm not a dishwasher, I will raise a part-timer at least.

**Please don't misinterpret this email. God blessed me with other gifts for which I am very grateful. But I will never need a pair of yellow rubber gloves.

Um, Daddy. . .

do you think I'm growing up too fast?

Edit: For those of you who dig the shoes . . . www.shopplasticland.com. They were on sale!!!

Letting go . . .

Butterbean has been napping at daycare without a pacifier for about three months now. I had casually mentioned to her teacher, Jenni, that I was going to wean her from the "paci" before she turned two in September. Two days later, Jenni informed me that Annika no longer used it at school. I told myself that I would follow suit at home.

First it was that Annika said she "needed" it. Then it was the excuse of her staying at my mom's house and being in a different environment. Next it was Geoff and I discussing that we needed the comfort of the paci on the cross-Atlantic flight to Norway.

Today, when I picked up my precious baby girl from school. She informed me that she went tee-tee on the potty after her nap.

As I praised her, hugged her, and let her call the grandparents, I realized the true reason I haven't weaned her from her paci . . .

I wasn't ready to let go of my baby.

Tonight after our normal bedtime routine, I placed her in her crib and told her I loved her. She said, "I need my paci, Mommy."

I replied, "No you don't. We don't have any more pacis, but this cute pink moose can sleep with you!"

She whispered, "Night, night. I love you, Mommy."

And she's been asleep ever since.