Last spring, in the midst of remodeling and unpacking, I didn’t do the best job of updating this blog. Life was just a tad bit busy, so I didn’t get to tell you much about decorating and paint colors and picking nursery room art. I’m going to play a little catch up today. I think you’ll like the story ahead.

First I should mention we bought our house from the Gonzalez family who owned it since the late 1940s. For over 60 years, Mr. and Mrs. Gonzalez (Ramona), one of their mothers, and their three children (Joe, John and Marie) lived in this 1,100 square foot house.

My, how times have changed, right?

When Ramona passed away two years ago, her children listed the home for sale. We were lucky enough to buy the house in December 2010 right after I found out I was pregnant with Anna.

Last May when we began thinking about how to decorate the baby’s room, I was set on peach walls. Until all of a sudden, I wasn’t.

This is Anna’s nursery today:

Please note the color on the walls. Yellow. Lovely yellow. Stay with me…

A few weeks after we painted, our next door neighbors asked how the room was coming. “It’s great!” I said. “We just painted the walls yellow.”

Lori, our neighbor, just about fell over herself. Then she recounted a story that made me almost fall over. It went like this:

“We stay in touch with the sons who grew up in your house. We had Joe over for dinner recently and he told us he’d been having dreams about his mom. In one of his dreams, his mom Ramona came to him and said, ‘Joe! Joe! You’ll never believe it–a nice young couple bought our house and they remodeled the kitchen. Joe, it looks amazing!”

Now, this part of the story is neat and wonderful but the logical part of me thought it was entirely possible that our neighbors had told Joe about our remodel, and his dream was basically replaying facts that he already knew. Here’s where it gets creepy good…

“And Joe, you’ll never believe it. They painted the baby’s room yellow- just like we had it when Marie was a baby!”

Turns out, Anna’s room was the same room the family had used for their daughter Marie when she was young…and today it’s back to the yellow color it once was.

There is no way that Joe would have known what color we painted the walls.

Our neighbors asked if the story gave me the heebie-jeebies. I said it didn’t. Then Lori said, “Ramona was a woman of deep faith. I like to think that she’s a little angel now watching over your house.”

And honestly, I like to think that too.

Last fall, before we found out about The Big C, I was preparing for Thanksgiving by tweeting something I was thankful for every single day. Looking back, I believe God had put a spirit of gratitude on my heart in the days leading up to Jonathan’s cancer diagnosis because being thankful during that time helped to balance some of the rough stuff.

I subscribe to a blog by Micha Boyett that you should check out. She’s been posting a list every Tuesday containing things she’s thankful for. Today I’m joining her in the form of a prayer.

Dear God,

Today I am thankful for the ways you have slowed me down; for Anna’s growing hands that still tighten their grip around my finger, and how I must stop and giggle throughout the day at her antics…toes in mouth, mirror magic. I am thankful for the wafting smell of tiny white flowers on our fence. I am so glad they belong to the neighbors but I get to reap the benefits of their smell. I would have surely, accidently, killed them by now. Father, I am thankful for red ripe cherries and equally beautiful strawberries and a bouquet of sweet peas from the Farmer’s Market. I am thankful for a full refrigerator because I know there are so many who go hungry every day. I am thankful for open windows; not too hot and not too cold. I am thankful for Amy and the way she knows how to ask such good questions…and I am thankful that ALL THREE of her children nap at the same time so that she could talk to me today. I am thankful for Anna’s $5.99 hot pink baby pool and the hours we’ve already spent in the backyard using it. I am thankful for Jonathan’s drive and ability to work despite being sick, and how he has faced cancer without feeling sorry for himself. God, I am thankful for your plans and how you’ve taught me, over time, to trust you. I am thankful you know what you’re doing.

What are you thankful for today?

Last night as I lay in bed reading, Jonathan crawled in with me and said, “I want tomorrow to be wonderful for you but I don’t know if it can be. I’m just not sure how I’m going to watch Anna to give you time away. I know you’d love time away.”

I did want time away. But I understood. Things are different this year.

So when Anna woke up at 6:00 am this morning, this Mother’s Day, I got up and we journeyed out to buy pastries, leaving Jonathan asleep in bed. When she eventually went down for her nap, I ate alone and perused Facebook. Like most days, I couldn’t help but notice all the perfection to be found in my feed. Pictures of perfectly cute kids and perfectly cooked breakfasts in bed, and perfect Tiffany blue jewelry boxes.

I had a moment where I felt a little sorry for myself, eating breakfast alone on Mother’s Day.

When Jonathan woke up he surprised me. He did some conspiring, and with Shane’s help, I would get an afternoon away with Anna Q. We spent the afternoon laying out with a magazine, getting a pedicure, perusing Thriftown, and grabbing a burger and adult beverage.

It was everything I needed…sunshine, time to relax, and time to be listened to by a good friend.

And really that would have been the end of my day except that I came home and listened to Shauna’s Mother’s Day sermon at Willow Creek this morning, and now I have things to say about it.

By now you’ve probably figured out that I really like Shauna’s books. It’s starting to feel a little stalkerish so I hesitate to even admit this all…but…Shauna often says what I’m thinking but in a much clearer and tidier way. Today’s sermon was no exception. She spoke about Romans 12:15– “Rejoice with those who rejoice, mourn with those who mourn.” She talked about how important it is for women to have community with each other no matter if you’re going through a season of joy or a season of pain. Here are a few snippets of what she said:

“It’s better together…the experience of mothering is so much richer and deeper if you’re doing it with a little tribe who tells you the truth, helps you, prays for you, bails you out, gives you grace.”

“It’s important to tell the truth to other moms…it’s easy to pretend to have it all together…to only give people your fancy Facebook self.”

“Some of the relationships I have, the deep kind, didn’t get there because we had play dates together. They got there because one of us needed serious help.”

“I believe that telling my story will make someone feel less alone.”

I suppose that last quote is why I’m staying up late and writing a post that may or may not make any sense. I’m trying to tell an honest story right now on this blog, today and everyday. I’m trying to tell people when things are good, and when things are messy, and when I hurt, and when I rejoice. I’m trying to be honest about my expectations, and my guilt, and all the good and bad that comes when life is a bittersweet season. I don’t want to put on my fancy Facebook self everyday–only showing the pretty parts of life and none of the tough stuff. When we are honest with each other, when we share our pain, our experience as mothers, as women, life is so much deeper. It’s true! Shauna is so right!

Today Jonathan gave me time away for a little bit to be with a friend who let me talk about where I’m at right now. This really is one of the greatest gifts a husband can give his wife. After listening to Shauna’s sermon, I am even more grateful for his incredibly appropriate and necessary gift.

In the sermon, Shauna interviews a few women about their mothering experiences. One of them, referring to a hard time in her life, said, “God was my rock, but he brought people.”

I am grateful for you, my people, for letting me be honest in this place. And I hope that my stories make you feel less alone–whether you’re a mom or just someone who needs to feel understood. We’re in this together.

In honor of Mother’s Day, I wanted to share snipets from a book my mother-in-law gave me last weekend. (Thank you, Marlene! You are wonderful!)

The book is called “Prudent Advice: Lessons for My Baby Daughter (A Life List for Every Woman)” by Jaime Morrison Curtis.

The book is an easy read, and cute on a coffee table or nightstand. A lot of times I find that coffee table books can be cheesy, but this book actually made me think about ways I’d like to treat people better, new experiences I’d like to try, and values I want to model to Anna. If you need a last minute gift idea for a mom in your life, this is a good one. There are over 400 honest and funny lessons of advice…but here are some of my favorites:

Always send a thank you note.

Take yourself on dates.

Appreciate the weather.

Walking away from oil on the stove is a guaranteed disaster (found that out this week!)

Frequent your local merchants.

Talk to strangers.

Everyone is a hypocrite.

Advocate for the causes you believe in.

There’s no need to comment on anyone’s weight. (Whether overweight or thin, it just makes people uncomfortable when you discuss their bodies. It’s really none of your business anyway.)

If you want to leave a party and you don’t have a good excuse, spill something on yourself.

Expressing your individuality is important, but try not to become a caricature of yourself.

Fame is not something you should aspire to.

There are times when you need to listen to the same song over and over.

When you drop off someone at home, wait until he or she gets inside before driving away.

Teach your baby the word “yes.” They learn “no” on their own so quickly.

Righty tighty, lefty loosey.

Let it be.

Happy Mother’s Day to my own mama, Ann. I love you Mom! 

I’m behind on my Friday lists! Some of these links are a few weeks old because I meant to post them and never did. Oh well. You know how life can get in the way sometimes, right?

Do you brag about your kids?

How your life is like a tapestry. This post really speaks to me because I feel like we’ve gotten to watch our friends and neighbors weave a tapestry of love over us this year.

Wit and wisdom for moms, from the First Lady.

Rachel sent us some of Jonathan’s favorite coffee- Taylor Maid Farms.

Baby name rules: No dumb names, and 21 others worth following. Seriously, more people should follow this list.

This video made Jonathan and I tear up last night. Oh, cancer.

p.s. It’s Jonathan’s second-to-last chemo today. Please pray for his body to handle the chemo well, and for a quick return of appetite.

“Your worst days are never so bad that you’re beyond the reach of God’s grace. And your best days are never so good that you’re beyond the need of God’s grace.”

-Jerry Bridges, Holiness Day by Day

image from promesse you

We have a chalkboard in our kitchen and it’s titled “Chemo Countdown.” There are only two numbers that haven’t been crossed off. May 25 is less than four weeks away.

I wish I could say that four weeks seems like nothing. But it still seems so far away.

For Jonathan, those numbers represent 10+ days of no appetite, five more shots, burning pains in his nose and face, the taste of metal in his mouth, tired eyes and a foggy brain and eyebrows that continue to disappear.

For me, those numbers represent lonely mornings as he sleeps, and bitterness about how the baby or I am always  sick on those weekends; and then guilt because I feel bitter.

I am not running right now, which is kind of a big deal considering that even in pregnancy I got my butt out of bed to walk. But, something had to give. I need that precious half hour in bed with my little family, nursing Anna and watching him sleep. These days I need to ease into the day, because the days are so very long. But I miss my runs and the normalcy of it all.

We are doing our best to take care of ourselves emotionally. I think we’re doing an okay job. People like to tell us that he looks good, and that I seem to be managing so well. I suppose, in many ways, we are. But in some ways we are just as you’d expect us to be: tired. worried. beat down. over it.

He is trying to take care of himself by doing the following:

Sleeping a lot.

Eating sometimes.

Working.

Watching baseball.

I am taking care of myself by doing the following:

Planning a remission party/fundraiser in June. 

Dreaming about our weekend away in Monterey, also in June. 

Online shopping. Kidding. Kinda. 

Talking to girlfriends, writing, occasionally stomping my feet and making exasperated sighing noises (no really, I do this.) 

You are taking care of us by:

Being patient.

Continuing to show up.

Asking questions–oh–how good questions are exactly what we need.

Reading: The Language of Flowers, because I bought it for Anna Q and then borrowed it back because I’m classy like that.

Listening to: Carrie Underwood’s new album, Blown Away.

Thankful for: the women in my life who continue to show up. Gals, you know who you are.

Hoping that: Anna’s tummy troubles go away, and fast. This mama is tired of extra stinky diapers, and red bums, and 5:30am wake up calls. Why, oh why, does the baby or I get sick every time Jonathan has chemo? Sympathy pains?

Anticipating:  Sarah’s graduation from Azusa this weekend, and listening to Shauna give the commencement speech.

Cooking: Quiche…I need an entirely separate post about my love affair with this food.

Baking:  Strawberry rhubarb cobbler and sweet potato biscuits. Mmmmmm, good.

Watching: TV? Movies? Who needs ‘em? I’m too busy reading (!!!)

Excited about: Two things. 1. All the roses in my backyard. We did it! We pruned! And now, we reap the rewards of our labor. 2. I won two free books this week thanks to Twitter. This is one of them.

And, you, my friends? 

The title of this post pretty much sums up what happened on Saturday night.

Yes, I saw her eating the leaf.  And no, after taking out 15 previous leaves, I didn’t try to stop her. “I’m cool. I’m relaxed. She can eat a freakin’ leaf if she wants to” I said.

But when she started screaming at bedtime…well…I should have seen it coming. Barf, everywhere. Barf on the sheets. Barf on her lovey. Barf down my dress and in my bra.

I held her and said, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” while taking little silent shocked breaths because I had barf running down my newly showered skin.

This is life as a mom: trying not to care about barf down your dress because your kid is in pain, while really simultaneously thinking about how you can most efficiently clean her, the sheets, and yourself in as little time as humanely possible.

One key to a quick turnaround is having a sick husband who finds ways to pitch in. Despite his sensitive stomach, he threw the sheets in the wash and then began Googling “Camphor Trees.” He found out the trees can be toxic for children, so he called Kaiser’s Nurse hotline. He practically has that number memorized by now. They connected us to Poison Control, and after a series of questions it was determined that she wasn’t dying. I’m glad we got our inaugural call out of the way so early, and I sincerely hope we don’t need to ever call again.

We aren’t sure if the leaf poisoned her a little bit, or if it simply got stuck in her little pipes and needed a tummy explosion for dislodge–a common occurrence in babies younger than 12 months. Either way, you can bet I’ll be fishing the leaves out of her mouth from here on out. Oops.

Here’s the moral of the story:

If your kid is younger than 12 months, don’t let him/her eat leaves. And definitely make sure those leaves aren’t toxic.

Bam. Free advice. You knew you were subscribing to this blog for good reason. 

p.s. That pic above? Obviously, it’s not me or my baby. I just put it on this post to prove that I’m not the only mom who is oblivious to the dangers of leaves. Thank you, National Geographic.

It’s been a few years since our last gardening adventure. After several unsuccessful gardens on 39th Street, and the realization that our backyard sunlight wasn’t conducive to beautiful tomatoes, we opted for a farm box instead.

You might remember that after reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle I went on a homegrown/local kick. My parents probably thought I’d become a liberal hippie. I’ll admit, the idea of homegrown food, compositing and chickens make my heart beat a little faster. The only problem is I know NOTHING about ANYTHING when it comes to gardening and the like.

That’s why we’re starting small this summer. No chickens yet. No composting. Just a little veggie garden with three types of tomatoes, some zucchini, squash, basil and cucumber. I am hopeful that an abundance of sunshine will make up for our lack of experience.

I am also hopeful that come July or August, we’ll be feeding Anna big, ripe tomatoes. In the event she hates them, which is quite likely, I hope we have enough to donate to River City Food Bank’s Growing Circle. Jonathan thinks I’m dreaming big on that one, but we’ll see!

As of this afternoon, everything has been planted. My little helper stayed busy in her new playpen while I weeded yesterday. Today I put everything into the ground during her afternoon nap.

We’re on our way, people! We’re on our way!