The Happiest Birthday

I kind of hate birthdays. Every year, I have a tendency to have a melt-down around my birthday. This year was no exception. I feel like I have had some really crummy ones, that sometimes people I love forget about it, or just generally awful events tend to coincide with the weeks/days before I turn a year older. And even when they don't, I still get so ornery and mopey around my birthday. It's been like this for at least the last several years, but I can trace the beginning of feeling this way back to when I was in high school. In the weeks or month before my birthday, I look forward to it. I like cake. I like presents. I like when my friends and family call. Birthdays are great!

Until four or five days before...and then I get gloomy and mean.

This year was no exception.

The day before my birthday, I melted down. I cried to Rob about how I hate my birthday, everything and every one that has anything to do with it, and I that I didn't even want people to wish me a happy birthday; I just wanted to crawl in a hole and forget the whole day.

And then I had a realization. It isn't my birthday. It's me.

Every year around my birthday, I get the birthday blues. I always thought I was feeling bad FOR myself, but I realized I feel bad ABOUT myself. Even though I don't struggle the rest of the year with this thought, there is something about being another year older that makes me feel like I have fallen short; I look at myself, at my life, and I basically feel...worthless. I feel like I am another year older and I haven't done anything meaningful or important. It's kind of hard to write it out like that, to realize that deep down, that's why I hate turning another year older, but really, I heard it in my head and I felt it in my heart, and I knew that the anger wasn't about what someone had done or about something that had happened. It was about me, and the fact that I didn't think I was worth celebrating.

That's kind of depressing, right? And maybe not normal (I don't know...do a lot of people feel this way?), but definitely not the type of person I want to be.

So I decided to change my mind. I think this has been a long time coming. The past few months, I have been thinking about doing something meaningful for my birthday, and finally came up with a plan. But I realized I could easily do more, and that when you feel bad for yourself, the best thing you can do is go out and do kind things for others.

So, I did register for that 5K, and even had a little extra to add to the donation.
(Look! Here's me, "running"!)

 But more significantly, I got done crying, wiped off the smeared mascara and walked into the kitchen and started making cookies and brainstorming. And I think I created a new tradition for myself and my family.

That night I made 4 dozen cookies. The next morning, we got up and we went to spread some love.

Our family delivered cookies to the police station, where we were invited to give them to the Chief of Police, who nearly came to tears, telling us that the day before had been one of the worst ever, and that he couldn't express how grateful it was to know that some people were actually appreciative of the work they do. (They gave the kids badge stickers and a ride in the display car.)

We went to fire station, where we handed cookies off to the fire fighters and the kids were given a tour of the station with a look/climb around the ladder truck.

We went to the library and gave them to the librarians.

We took people treats AND animal treats to the local animal shelter where the kids got to happily play with the dogs.

Then we went to Walmart to get a dozen balloons, where we left 3 plastic bags of quarters taped to the soda machines for people to find and enjoy a free soda.

We took the balloons to one of the local nursing homes, where we made some new friends and spread a little cheer. (It was so AMAZING to see my sweet daughter giving hugs, holding hands, and talking to the residents. I was so worried that she would be too shy or would be frightened, but she commented on how much she loved it and all the "nice grandmas and grandpas.")

I had to go to work after that, but after work, we went "camping." The kids have been asking to go camping for ages now, and with all they do to fill me with joy, I figured one awesome birthday present would be to return the favor. It was really cold, so I chickened out and we took the kids home once the fire died and we all got sleepy, but it was once of those moments I want to tuck away in some place for safe keeping and never, ever lose; a moment I wish I could freeze for all time and play back again and again and again.

We roasted hot dogs and marshmallows, and watched the colors of the fire. The kids told us campfire stories: Squirrel's was about a little princess who shared her name who went camping in the woods and was afraid of everything, so her mommy stayed with her. And THEN when a bear jumped out to scare them, they realized it was only DADDY! (Insert shrieks and giggles.)

Little Bird's was about a little monster (who also shared his name) and a little ghost that came to play with him everyday, until a big ghost came and put the little ghost in the garbage can! (Insert raucous laughter.) Luckily, his friend came and got the little ghost back out of the garbage can and they played more.

As I sat there by the fire, with Squirrel snuggled in my lap and Little Bird in Rob's, listening to my children weave tales (complete with conflict and character development), watching the purples, oranges, and yellows of the flames run into each other, I realized that these amazing children were another year older too. That every year, time will move on, and these beautiful little people are my accomplishment. These sweet hands delivering cookies, stroking the veins on the hands of the elderly, their darling mouths telling stories and filling the cold air with laughter, the eyes that shone at me with love and affection and pride for their work that day, those are the things that reflect my worth back to me.

And so, this is how I know that in the past year, I have accomplished something important and that I am not only someone myself, but I am creating beautiful little someones who can someday go on and do the same.

Pretty much the best birthday in the history of the world.

Peace and love,

Apple Pickin'

I mentioned last year that we have an apple orchard right here on campus. It has over 100 varieties of apples, all ripe (and cheap! fifty cents a pound!) for the picking.

So we made our annual trip to the apple orchard with some friends. This time around, the kids were less interested in playing and tasting apples and more interested in getting their bags as full as possible. Which meant they were far too busy to pose for photos. Which means there are more pictures of Rob than the kids. Lucky for you, he's pretty cute, too!

Next up: learn to make and can applesauce. Anyone have a delicious, no-sugar added recipe?
Have a delightful weekend!

Harvest Time!

 We have had a woeful garden experience this year. Like last year, we got a plot in the community garden. Unlike last year, someone has been seriously out to kill our plants. First, someone kept taking the sprinkler that fed our plot and several others and moving it over to their plot. Summer+lack of water= very sick plants. We did manage to bring them back from the brink (or in the case of the cucumbers, replant in time). After that, Rob got a drip hose, which he hooked up to a faucet that was unused by anyone else. We wove the drip hose through the garden and made sure it was watering everything, and we were set. Things looked fantastic for a couple of weeks. Until someone started randomly unscrewing our drip hose from the faucet, even though there was another completely empty faucet next to it. (Who DOES that?)

Though we managed to keep most of it alive, the damage had obviously been done on several of our plants. The onions are way small. The zucchini and yellow squash put out two and one specimens each (and for anyone who has ever attempted to grow zucchini, you know that is not only not a bumper crop, but simply unheard of). In fact, when I tried to cook the squash and a zucchini, they were both as tough and seedy as can be, even though they were just the right size for picking...I think that the water shortage must have stopped them from growing, but they were just getting tougher and tougher on the vine.

That said, we did have a few things that were hardy enough to survive a little water-sabotage.

The carrots did remarkably well, especially given their water shortage. Happily, I think they fell in the path of another plot's drain-off, and benefitted from it. We planted a typical carrot, as well as "Parisiennes," which I chose for their hardiness in tough soil and cold weather. They did well, and I am looking forward to throwing them in a pot roast. Carrots are among Squirrel's favorite foods, and so it was all I could do to get her to wash them before eating them. I am honestly really excited about the carrot situation.

Here are Squirrel and Little Bird washing the carrots and taters: 

And here they are, all shiny and clean. Along with a couple of taters (I forgot to get a picture of all the potatoes...but we should have another big harvest of these, and more carrots, in a couple weeks.) 

A few Roma tomatoes from our little plants. 

They didn't get too big (maybe the water issue?) but are still tasty! 

Honestly, our zucchini, squash and cucumbers were so sad, they aren't even worth showing you. 

I have better hopes for next year... *sigh*

We did, however, get some amazing ears of corn from a friend. We didn't have enough space to grow our own this year, so we were super glad to receive this oh-so-succulent batch. So far, my favorite flavor is when Rob grills them up with chili powder and other spices. Mmmm....

Did you grow a garden this year? What did well?

Happy Harvest, all! 

"I have always cultivated a garden..."

While the rest of the world has already started harvesting their summer garden goods, we are only just planting. (We aren't frost free until at least the end of May or early part of June, but even in June, there were a few nights I had to haul in my pots.) Here are some shots of our little garden, or at least part of it. We have a plot in the community garden, but somebody keeps stealing our water, so it's suffering. I think we have finally brought it back from the brink, but I'm still keeping my fingers crossed.

At any rate, I've been keeping several things potted here at the apartment, and I'm grateful, as my little potted garden is currently doing better than the larger plot in the community garden.

I've got onions, cherry tomatoes, larger tomatoes, bell peppers, and strawberries.

This is a makeshift strawberry jar Rob created for me. I wanted something with extra space for the strawberries that might give them the chance of surviving through winter, so we came up with this idea of a larger pot with drilled holes for the strawberries. So far, they are enjoying their little home! 

And even finally started sprouting. Keeping my fingers crossed that we see some 

scrumptious berries soon! 

Are you growing anything this year?

{Laying foundations}

"If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now, put the foundations under them."

February 4, 2011

12:43 AM

{Chemistry 105}

Happy Thanksgiving!

"I am thankful this pond was made deep and pure for a symbol." --H.D. Thoreau

The last year of our lives has been somewhat tumultuous, accentuated by intense change and great leaps of faith. All said and done, even with every bit of change, every terrifying leap, every loss, every challenge, it's all been worth it. When we look back over the year, all we see are blessings that have been heaped upon us. Every day begets a new challenge and because of it, our family is stronger, our hearts are more peaceful and our lives are simpler. We are still learning day-by-day to become what the Lord, and we, have in sight, but without the sacrifices, we'd never be any closer. 

We spent the week with the Mister's family in Utah, who have also all seen a great deal of change and sacrifice with the economy. But what a blessing, to stand and listen to my father-in-law discuss the blessings we all have had, the gratitude for the feast, and the joy in family.

Our pond is deep and pure indeed.

Happy Thanksgiving! I hope your family finds many reasons to be grateful.

{Digging Potatoes}

Well, we must really live in Idaho, because today I went out and dug up potatoes. This was a first for me, and I actually enjoyed being out in the co-op garden, alone in the sun and breeze, just me and my thoughts.

One thing about potato digging though: it is HARD work. When I left the garden with my little bucket of taters, I was covered in dirt and ready for a forty-year nap. I like picking lettuce, or tomatoes, or squash. I like picking berries or pulling beans. These things are easy work--you use your eyes, pull the prettiest, plumpest fruit, and stay relatively clean. Potatoes are different.

I don't know anything about potato growing other than what we've been told by some Idaho folk and what we've managed this season, but here's what I've got so far--when you plant potatoes, you plant them in mounds. (And here in the high desert, in our poorly funded student co-op garden, that mostly means planting them in a bed of sandy, rocky, dirt.) And then you let them grow. For the most part, you just kind of leave them alone. And then you wait. You wait until they shrivel up and die and you think the rot and the bugs are just around the corner and you're pretty sure you messed up and that God shouldn't trust you to tend to things when He's better at it anyway.

And then you stick your hands in that dry, rocky, hard-as-can-be dirt, you push aside the old dead plant, and you start digging for the roots.

Potatoes can grow deep, well below the mound you made for them, deeper into that thick, dense, desert sand. If you're lucky, and if you dig deep enough, you'll dig up some beautiful gems--small ones, big ones, all under that rotten, rocky mess, emerging a few at a time as proof that there is something bigger than you at work under the soil.

The Mister and I are often described as "poor as church mice." My father has used that phrase on us a few times, and our church leaders too. When we started this journey, we knew it wouldn't be easy. And to be honest, sometimes it is a little staggering to think of how far we still have to go. At times, it's easy to think of what we've given up, of the things (all that old STUFF) we could have if we were living the same lives we decided to abandon. If we let ourselves, it would be easy, after a long week of endless studying for him and nearly-single-parenting for me, to look at our lives and see the shriveled up plant of what we used to have. It would be easy to forget that we were led here and that there are greater forces at work. The trick is remembering that we're still digging; we're still reaching for what comes out of that pile of dirt and dead.

So we keep digging our potatoes. We may come out dirty as hell. We'll be tired and our muscles will ache, but after the ache we'll be stronger for our efforts. We'll have grime under our fingernails and dents in our knees from the rocks we knelt on, but we'll have what we came for. We'll leave behind a pile of rubble, but we'll know the love of God and hold it right in the palm of our grungy, weathered hands.