Heels and Camo

“Mom, do these heels go with my camo?”

Upon waking up from their nap, Duncan and Owen raid the closet and put on my shoes. I grabbed my camera (of course) and they even went and stood by each other for this shot. They must know what the camera means, at this point!

More Than Enough

“Look at all this stuff I got!” I said with a self-satisfied smile while displaying the clothes and shoes I’d bought from T. J. Maxx to my husband. I was excited about all the great deals I’d scored.

A few days went by. I found myself obsessing about clothes I’d seen at that store and still wanted to buy. I’d restrained myself the first time. They were things I liked for myself, but not necessarily needed. If I’d purchased everything I wanted, my bill would have been too big for our budget! But every item was such a great deal! Wouldn’t it be prudent to make the purchases now? What if I waited and then they weren’t around anymore?

Driving back to that same store a week later, I was almost relieved when I could no longer find the things that had caught my eye earlier. Relieved that the temptation to make a choice was gone. Relieved to discover that by not finding these items, I was suddenly free from thinking about them anymore.

The fact is I always want more: more books, music, clothes, camera lenses, and Starbucks. The more I get the more I want. Sometimes what I want isn’t just material items but better circumstances, like perfect kids and a comfortable life. I know intellectually that material items and perfect circumstances are not ultimately satisfying, but part of me always wants something that I don’t have—like an iPhone—for instance. And this part of me wars against the other side of me that longs to be content in simple daily living, happy with what I have.

I have to ask myself, How much is enough? Will I ever be satisfied, free from the never-ending longing for more?

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How do you find contentment?

(Image: Ungrind.org)

D.C. Day

I try to wrestle the boys into posing in a picture with me. Doesn't really happen.

Maybe we should have just turned around when we saw the dump truck smashed on the side of the road, which had backed up traffic. Or maybe when we saw the guy being taken out of the metro station in hand-cuffs. But we didn’t, we kept going.

Libby and I decided to take our kids to D.C. for the day and go to the Freer + Sackler Galleries. I’ve always wanted to see the Peacock Room by Whistler there. I was last in D.C. for my birthday and we’d gone down on a Saturday. It only took an hour down and less than an hour back. Nice. I knew it would take longer on a week day, but hoped if we left at 9:00 a.m. most of the traffic would be over.

Not so. The dump truck accident put us an hour or more behind schedule. Despite leaving at 8:55 a.m. we didn’t actually arrive in D.C. until around 11:30. Then we both had to use the bathroom. We found the Freer + Sackler and couldn’t figure out how to get in with our strollers. We had to go in and ask. They told us how (different entrance) but we decided just to take turns staying with the kids while we each made a bathroom run.

Now, close to noon, we just head straight to the mall to eat our packed lunch and let my boys play ball and get their energy out. I start thinking to myself, “If all we did was come to D.C. to play in the mall grass, I’m going to be mad.” An hour later we pack up and head to the Freer + Sackler. We hope to be there for the next hour and a half until needing to leave at 3:00 p.m.

Unfortunately, my boys were not ready to fall asleep, despite it being near their normal naptime. They’d fallen asleep on the way in on the metro. Duncan and Owen discover that it echos in the galleries if they shout. Great. I get them calm and try to get them interested in the pictures.

The Peacock Room was neat and the boys like the pictures of the birds. It was very ornate and amazing to think it had been a person’s private dining room at one time.

I’m not exceptionally interested in the Asian art and we seem to have exhausted the American collection. The museum is actually two buildings that have been connected so for the Freer you have to go up all the levels to see the art, then back down to the basement to connect to the Sackler, then go up all the Sackler levels to see the art there. Tad confusing and all. All the kids start losing it.

We find a courtyard with shade and a fountain and take a break. We’ve been in the museum an hour. Snacks, diaper changes, nursing. Everyone’s happy again. Hang out for a half an hour chatting. That was pleasant. I didn’t have to worry about the boys running away since it was enclosed. Now it’s 3:00 p.m., time to go!

Back into the metro. It’s of course crowded with commuters now, as we expected. We have a hard time finding those the elevators! We finally do and have to travel a very convoluted path to get to where we can catch our train.

On the train at last! At each of the stops the train waits 10-15 minutes, just sitting there for some reason. Who knows why? It takes about an hour on the metro to get to our stop.

We joyfully make our way to Libby’s Pilot. Yay! We can leave! Or can we?

We can’t get out of the parking lot! Are you kidding me? The sign says “Smart Cards only, no cash accepted” or something like that. What? No signs were posted when we entered that this was some sort of special pass lot. You can only get out with a special card, it won’t accept cash or credit cards. Of course there’s no one manning the thing, so we don’t know what to do. We have to back up while tons of people are trying to exit and enter. Maybe there’s another exit that accepts cash? No there isn’t.

We find a lady that seems to work there and ask her. We can’t really understand her accent.

So Libby makes a dash back into the metro station to buy a pass. The pass is $10 and apparently could have been used on the metro too. Of course there’s no signs saying any of this.

Free at last! It’s probably been a half an hour trying to figure how to get out of the parking lot. We really aren’t morons. Really.

Traffic’s not bad about half of the way home but around Baltimore it gets rough. I feed the boys a whole bag of goldfish. Duncan keeps trying to steal Isabel’s paci.

Al long last, Lib drops me off and gets down the road herself. She’s still got another half an hour drive to get home.

That was our D.C. day. I think we spent about 9 hours (more for Lib) out and about but only 3 or 3 1/2 hours actually in D.C. The rest were spent in transit. Never again will I go to D.C. during the week. Never. If I try, hold me down, people!

But seriously, it was fun to catch up and chat and make memories. Only I want to make different memories next time!

Journaling: A Holy Experience

Twitter, Facebook, blogs, text messages. There’s lots of options for communicating these days. But there’s one I still like best: journaling.

Pen on paper. A beautiful book, blank and waiting to be filled with thoughts and memories. I love the anticipation of picking a new book to be my journal and wondering what moments I’ll choose to record in it. I love the texture of the paper, the meditative process of writing by hand.

I guess I’ve always been obsessed with journals because I’ve always been obsessed with writing. I remember when I was young sitting on a porch swing in Tennessee at the end of the day, dictating to my mom as she wrote my words down in my “journal.” My mom had me do that as a way to help me learn how to write for myself.

My first journal was a Little House on the Prairie journal with quotes and pictures from the books interspersed throughout it’s pages. I remember the thrill of having my first real journal. Over the years I’ve had some journals designated for quotes I discovered, devotions, or my daily life. Now I just keep one that holds everything: any recording of daily life, plus my time spent with the Lord in the morning.

Over at Holy Experience there’s been a fabulous series on journaling. What the author describes as her process of spiritual journaling is pretty much the same that I do each morning, curled up on the couch, coffee on the table nearby.

Do you journal? If so, what do you record in yours? Why don’t you take a photo of your journal and come back here and leave a comment telling us where to find it . . .

Fabulously Fun and Free

Want something fun to do that’s both fabulous and free? For all you local folks out there, check out the following activities and links. For those who aren’t local, I’m sure there’s many similar activities in your own town or local area!

Summer Reading Program
I’ve enrolled my boys in the summer reading program at our local library. No, they can’t read yet, but they have a program for those who can be read to! They got book bags to fill with their library books and coupons for free treats like ice cream at McDonalds! Plus, once I read them 25 books, they get a free book when we turn the list in! For children who are readers, the required amount of books to read is 10.

Long’s Park
For those in driving distance to Lancaster, PA, check out the Summer Music Series at Long’s Park. Nothing like spending a splendid summer evening eating a picnic supper and listening to a concert. From blues to celtic, there’s sure to be a style for everybody.

Outdoor Movie Nights
One of my favorite things to do each summer is to watch a movie under the stars. And my favorite venue is Little Italy in Baltimore. Nothing like an Italian meal and enjoying a film in a community that makes you feel like you belong. But there’s lots of venues for outdoor movie viewing in Maryland, so make sure you check out the ones closest to you!

What fabulously fun and free activities will you be doing this summer? Do share!

The Best Dad . . .

in the world is my husband! I knew he would be, when I married him. But that doesn’t compare to the reality of just how wonderful he is! I could go on and on about him, but it would never do him justice.

I never could have survived–in any sane sort of way–giving birth and caring for Duncan and Owen if it wasn’t for Josh. He got up with me during the night when they were first born, bringing me each little swaddled form to be nursed. From those early days on, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him complain, but embraces each day of being a father with joy and gratitude. He’s an example to me of what I hope to someday be. Love you babe! Here’s a few shots of our day . . .

A Father’s Day hug.

Lovin’ their sunglasses!

What an adorable face! What was going on in that little head?

A ride on daddy’s back.

An Evening of Cookies

Last week we ate some Oreo cookies . . .

Mmmm, were they good!

Took some pictures . . .

of my pretty boys.

A Hollow of Silence

This quote has been sitting on my sidebar and I thought it was time to take it off. But before I let it go, I thought I’d post this little print I did of it. The photograph was one Josh took at my mom’s house some time ago. She loves bird nests and collects them. I discovered the quote in Country Home magazine (if I remember correctly) and fell in love with it. I combined the two and had it printed and framed: one for me, one for my mom. She cried when I gave it to her (I knew she would). Mine’s in my bedroom, the place where I find a “hollow of silence” and a “nest of stillness” at the beginning and end of each day.

Is there a special room or place where you find stillness and quiet each day?

A Walk with Jane Austen

A Walk with Jane Austen was not the book I expected it to be. I expected it to be a travel log. And it was, of sorts. But it was really more like reading a journal that recorded a very personal emotional and spiritual journey.

The author, Lori Smith, is starting over. After years of experiencing fatigue from a virus with mono-like symptoms and working at a difficult job, she finds she needs to start fresh. Having quit her job to write full time, she goes on a trip to England to visit Jane Austen country. The story is a journey of what she finds along the way: an experience in love and a renewal of faith.

Smith weaves biographical Austen bits into her travel through England. She reflects on Austen’s life and novels, relating them to her own experiences and ponderings. She especially reflects on love and relationships both in Austen’s day and modern life. As a single woman who desires to find her own Mr. Darcy, Smith contemplates what makes relationships work.

Smith is very real about her feelings. The only downside is it can be a bit much at times. Sometimes the “woe is me” attitude can become tiresome. This was what was most complained about on Amazon’s customer reviews. I admit Smith at times depressed me with her insecurities, illness, and her own despair over not yet finding her soul mate. However, the book is meant to be about a very dark time in the author’s life. The thing is you’re not quite prepared for that when you pick up the book, so I think it comes as a bit of a surprise. One doesn’t associate Austen with melancholy. Maybe if it was called “A Walk with Charlotte Bronte” it would be more expected. However, I kept in mind that Smith’s personality is far more emotional than mine. Or at least she lives in that place longer than I do. Plus, she was suffering from physical ailments like I’ve never had so suffer, so keeping that in mind was helpful. And I realize that suffering physically heightens emotions and often makes us more easily swept away by them, especially the despairing kind. But I didn’t find that it made me want to put down the book.

Overall, however, I found the tone of the book hopeful. Her illness is finally diagnosed. She discovers the grace of God in simply being, not striving. And what does all this have to do with Jane Austen? At the end she tells us:

Jane taught me something about the value of an ordinary life–things I’m not sure I could understand before I was stripped of being able to do even the ordinary [due to her illness]. She did not want to be famous. She wanted to love her family and her friends, to live her faith rather than talk about it, to do good work and tell stories. . . . And this is the paradox, because this life–this loving your family and friends and doing good work and telling good stories life–may feel small, but it is far from ordinary.

It is the best life, the extraordinary life.

It was Jane’s, and I hope it will be mine.

I really enjoyed this book and found it honest and engaging. For those who enjoy memoirs and Jane Austen, I think you might like it too.

Honey and Lemon Marinated Chicken

I’ve posted this recipe before, but thought I’d do so again since it’s grilling season. This is one of my favorite marinades because it’s so versatile. It’s great on chicken, salmon, or pork. I got this from Everyday with Rachael Ray a few years ago.

Ingredients:

• Juice and zest of 1 large lemon (3 tablespoons juice)
• 3 tablespoons honey
• 2 teaspoons finely chopped garlic
• 1-1/2 teaspoons ground cumin
• 1 teaspoon dried oregano
• 1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 4 bone-in chicken breast halves, skin on (about 2-1/4 pounds) (I’ve used boneless skinless chicken, pork chops, or salmon)
• Salt and freshly ground pepper

Directions:

1. Preheat the oven to 400°. Line a baking sheet with foil. In a medium bowl, whisk together the lemon juice and zest, honey, garlic, cumin, oregano and 1/2 cup of the olive oil. Place the chicken breasts in a glass dish that holds them snugly in a single layer and add the marinade. Cover with plastic wrap and marinate for at least 30 minutes or up to 2 hours in the refrigerator, turning over the chicken occasionally.
2. Heat the remaining 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a large skillet over medium-low heat. Pat the chicken dry, season with salt and pepper and place, skin side down, in the skillet. Cook until the skin is browned and crisp, about 5 minutes. Transfer the chicken, skin side up, to the prepared baking sheet. Bake until cooked through and the juices run clear, about 20 minutes. (I usually grill it instead of cooking it on the stove.)

What’s your favorite marinade?