As Much as We Can Hand-le

What’s been going on? About as much as we can, ahem, handle. Since we last left our heroes…

• Exams happened. Post-exam bonfires happened. Graduation happened. We are trying not to think about the friends we’ve made who are seniors moving away…
• Aaron has completed one year of seminary. One third done already. That had to be one of the fastest 9-month periods of our lives, especially the blur that was April. Did we even have an April? (Hard to be sure–the weather was playing February far too long.)
• We got to have Chatterbox with us through exam week because her college got out earlier and she didn’t leave for Oregon until this past week. It was actually great timing because we could make her do dishes and watch Anna and generally be our indentured paid-in-cell-service nanny enough to keep the house functioning through the busy exam week.
• We enjoyed some of the Tulip Time festivities, such as eating elephant ears, shivering through a parade, watching the Dutch Klompen Dancers klomp, and pitying that poor basset hound wearing Dutch garb.
• My cousin Laura came through town in time for the parade, and the next day for Mother’s Day we gathered at my parents’ with my Grandma and Papa B., Grandma H., and Aunt Barb as well. I got zero rest that day but did score the iTouch I’d been coveting! The commuter’s sanity saver.
• I was then brutally attacked by allergies and spent last week in a snot and Sudafed based fog. I also generally felt like my house and life were an out of control mess, which is not unusual but can get me feeling out of sorts when combined with not feeling great and not getting a chance to catch up, let alone look ahead. Even this weekend, although we had no big plans (except Aaron had a Classis retreat Saturday–part of the denominational ordination process is that and an exam he has Tuesday), I felt like I never unwound yet also never got anything caught up. Today I never really stopped either, but at least we have groceries and the dishes got done.
• Last week, his first Monday of summer vacation, Aaron went to the hand doctor to score some more Vicodin see how his thumb is healing. The bone, okay. The ligaments, etc.,…not so good. So he had a CT scan Tuesday, another consult Wednesday, a visit to his regular doctor Friday. I should have gone so I could understand this better, but the ligaments are messed up and pulling his finger wrong and bottom line, there will be surgery involving pins and I presume some kind of Ligament Gorilla Glue. The surgery is Thursday morning.
• Almost worse than the surgery is that for a week before and after, he has to be on even more hard core blood thinners than he’s usually on, so he has to give himself shots twice a day. What a cruel thing to tell a person to do. I feel bad that I can’t help, but it’s common knowledge that I faint at the sight, nay, even the thought of . . . hey, I just had the weirdest dream . . . Oh, right, as I was saying: at the thought of shots. So I’m useless as he’s being tortured.
• But hey, at least we have group insurance now! (Seriously, I would be SO freaked out by now if we didn’t. And so bankrupt and living off the dole. On the dole? Is it on the wagon or off the wagon?)

That’s that. Please pray for Aaron with the shots and for the surgery to be even more successful than anticipated–it is the kind of thing where the doctor says it’ll probably need to repaired again someday (because of Marfan? I’m not positive).

Note for our Smallport friends: We are trying to get our Oregon visit nailed down but this kind of stuff keeps making it hard to get it done. We are thinking around June 3 or 4 to 14-ish.

A Word from Your Local Vicodin Dealer

It’s about three weeks from the end of Aaron’s semester. Hey, remember last fall, when Aaron’s first semester was coming to a close and exams loomed, and he slammed his finger in the truck door? Something just reminded me of that . . .

With tons of schoolwork looming, Aaron was in the library just about every night last week, and then he had a church men’s retreat scheduled for overnight Friday. Seriously impeding our progress catching up on LOST (we’re early in season 6–don’t say a word!). We were hoping to get some in on Thursday night after he got home from church, but he got home really late. And the first words out of his mouth?

“Don’t freak out.”

That is never good.

He’d fallen playing basketball with kids at church. Scraped up his knee as well as his hands but didn’t think it was anything more than that. But he was up all night with pain getting worse despite ice until finally at 4:00 a.m. I told him to go to the ER since he clearly needed an x-ray and wasn’t sleeping anyway. They put a splint on it but said it was not broken. He went to sleep at 6:30 and I went to work. Then around noon they called him and said, “Hey, remember how we said your hand wasn’t broken? It’s kind of the opposite of that, so please come back to the ER for a better cast.” He has a hairline fracture near the bottom of his thumb, apparently a bone which is important for circulation.

Tomorrow he goes to a specialist for a more permanent cast. Meanwhile he is still in pain and either unable to concentrate because he’s doped up on Vicodin or unable to think because he’s let it wear off (so he can think) and his hand hurts even more. And he’s frustrated because he has so many papers and tests due and it’s so hard to think and type.

So many fluke medical things this year–so frustrating we don’t know whether to laugh or cry or take turns. The end result is that (1) I am probably on some kind of “possible Vicodin dealer” watch list at the pharmacy and (2) next year he will not be allowed to leave the house without full helmet and pads for the last four weeks of any semester.

Oregon vs. West Michigan Coffee Shops

Last week I worked at home midweek since I had to have blood drawn for the doctor in the morning. Vegas had the odds of me passing out at 45:1, but I stood strong. How do ya like me now, phlebotomists!

I actually then went to a nearby coffeeshop/restaurant to work and began to notice a curious thing: half the people around me seemed to be talking or reading about Jesus. An older lady near me seemed to be studying about prayer. A young lady with a diamond ring the size of Delaware was telling an older lady about working at a food pantry ministry. I thought one old guy was converting another but then I determined they were both Jesus-y already. And when a coworker later joined me, we were discussing Bible passages for our project energetically enough that the prayer-study lady asked us if we knew where a certain passage was and a businessman waiting for someone felt compelled to comment on what we were discussing. (He first asked us if we went to the local college, so he was all right by us–the phlebotomist had asked me too, so double score! for inheriting my mom’s mistaken-for-younger-ness).

Obviously I don’t have anything against people talking about Jesus. So I suppose I should I should have felt glad–or “blessed”–to have so many people talking about Jesus all around me. But I have to say, I mostly found it odd. It’s not bad, it’s just so very West Michigan. People in Oregon do not talk about Jesus in restaurants all that often, in my experience (with the clear exception of my pizza-joint-inhabiting youth pastor husband). Typical eavesdropping in an Oregon coffeeshop might be how the softball tournament went or how the fishing has been or if the spaghetti dinner raised enough for Herman’s cancer treatment. Rarely did I hear people speaking of their personal faith, let alone getting down to naming names like Jesus.

Does that make Oregon a less “blessed” place? I remember a conversation with someone at our old church the first time we visited after moving to Oregon. We tried to describe how it’s a different culture and he went on about how when he visited he could “feel the darkness.” I was borderline offended and I hadn’t even fallen in love with our town yet. I just wouldn’t put it that way. Yes, we encountered a lot of sad, difficult, and even dark things, and I believe Jesus can shine a light of hope and truth into those things. In terms of history and churchgoing, and maybe coffeeshop conversations, Oregon has “less Jesus” and West Michigan has “more Jesus.”

But is the whole earth filled with his glory or isn’t it?

There’s not more Jesus here than in Oregon. There’s just not. Because he’s everywhere, even if his people aren’t, or haven’t recognized him there yet.

So while there are a lot of good things about West Michigan, I wouldn’t say it is more blessed. It’s not some kind of Promised Land. It’s not free of deep, painful brokenness (believe me, life has not let us forget that this week). I don’t see this as necessarily a better place to live or raise a family just because if you talk about the Bible in a coffeeshop people around you will already know what you’re talking about. I think I’d rather have that conversation where it’s one small act of bright, rebellious light-shedding.

I’d rather hold one bright candle in a dark room than fall asleep under dull florescents.

Sometimes I miss the pagans.

Wordless Wednesday: Gangsta Ballerina

Weekend Whatever

Time marches staggers on, which warrants a bullet point post:

• Work is good but busy.
• Commuting is much better when it’s not snowing and now that it’s getting light out earlier. That said, we’re getting a snowstorm tonight. Again.
• Our weekends tend to be lazy yet fly by. They often sneak up on us before we can make any plans, but it is so, so nice to not have to work (I have worked a little a few weekends but swore it off completely for Lent). Two weeks ago we went out and brunched hard, just the three of us, just because we could.
• We have started watching Lost. We cannot stop watching Lost. We are addicted to watching Lost. We are just about to start season 2, so we have only 50 or 60 hours of television to catch up on before the series finale. We are confident in our ability to be this lazy (see above re: weekends) so NO SPOILERS, people.
• I have started getting together with the other wives of Aaron’s “Jedi Council” seminary posse. We are the Sacred Sisters…of the Traveling…Husbands…or something. We just hang out one night a week with no agenda other than to find out what’s going on with each other, pray, and breathe in the sweet sweet air of a quiet, comfy home that’s not littered with plastic kid junk, sippy cups, and wet mittens. I think it has been just what we all needed. Why should our husbands have all the fun–and all the support? I am getting to know people at work at church, but it’s hard to get involved in anything with them or coordinate much to see old friends, even though in theory we are not that far from GR. So it’s good to have these friends who are going through a lot of the same things and who live right here by us.
• Aaron preached at our church for the first time today and he did great! He didn’t even seem nervous (you’ll have to ask him if he secretly was). He preached a number of times at our church in Oregon and has given countless Young Life and youth group talks, but it’s always more pressure the first time in a new place, I think, and our church here is bigger. He didn’t shy from the challenge, though, but took on a crazy hard passage and brought it home strong. Even if he did skip an entire page of his notes! Must be the power of the fauxhawk.

Survivor: January

We have been having trouble with our Internet connection at home, and since it’s the school’s, not our own, there’s not much we can do about it. That hasn’t helped my blogging and keeping up on email, but I suppose the bigger problem is that it seems 8, 9, 10 hours a day are just gone out of my day now and by 9:00 p.m. I’m in a catatonic state. Can’t imagine why.

Kidding aside, I really figured I’d be happy with basic survival skills this month–if I got to work every day and everybody in the house found something to eat three times at least once a day, we’d be doing pretty good. I guess I’m exceeding my low expectations since I’ve yet to oversleep or resort to takeout for dinner and I did get the Christmas decorations down today before the clock ran out on January.

This complete change in routine has forced me to be more organized as far as meals and to go back to getting shopping, laundry, hair braiding, and the like done on weekends instead of whenever I felt like it. I’m actually pretty proud of myself for doing as well as I have so far. And now that I’ve said this, I’m set me up for a major domestic fail of some sort, I’m sure.

And now that I’ve been satisfied by discovering Bon Jovi gracing my TV to make up for the Pro Bowl (football nerd alert!) being mysteriously absent, I need to get my getting-up-early booty to bed. Livin’ on a prayer . . . and coffee.

Workin’ for the Man Every Night and Day

I think I’m getting the hang of this working thing.

Go figure, I think I like it too. Yes, the days start early and the drive is long, and sometimes I sit at my desk in my cold office for so long that my pulse slows to roughly 40 bpm and I have to take coffee via IV to get going again. But on the other hand, I don’t have to repeat simple requests seventeen times in a row seven thousand times a day or help wipe any part of any other person’s body.

At work my office has a door and a huge stash of snacks and no Mr. Potato Head parts on the floor. Sometimes there are coffee runs or people stopping to say hi. And I get to have LIVE, INTELLIGENT CONVERSATIONS with actual, mature, ADULT HUMAN BEINGS.

For example, last week I got to spend an hour with two others comparing ideas and opinions on designs for a major project. I love that kind of thing. People think that editors must be quiet, shy introverts, but I am a collaborative person and I think actually an extrovert. Those conversations and connections to the bigger picture give me the energy to go back and do the focused solo work. I did miss that sometimes as a freelancer. (Of course, there is also the imposing wall of deadlines looming over me to keep me focused. Yikes!)

I have my morning routine down pretty well and was just able to simplify our daycare/grandmacare schedule. AJ is doing great with the new routine, although she was happy to spend Saturday at home just lazing around in her pajamas and then ballerina outfit. Me too. (Well, minus the tutu.) I did feel like I should have been working on the weekend, since that was when I got a lot of my freelance work done, but it is nice that now when I’m off, I’m really off–no choice, no guilt.

Today was the first day of Aaron’s new semester, so we’ll soon see how his weeks flow and how all this goes with him juggling a ton as well.

Time to go juggle some chili into my crock pot.

Workweek 1 / Prayer Request

First week down. I commuted to work four days and the weather was only nasty three of them. Today I was able to work at home, which probably saved me the embarrassment of falling asleep at my desk. The mornings came very, very early this week.

Aaron ended up not going on his retreat because of some doctor’s appointments and things he needed to deal with. So he could stay with AJ some of the days I worked and get dinner going before I finally got home. Thank goodness! AJ did great with letting me drag her out of bed, bundle her up, and drag her out in the dark (baffling to her) to head to Miss J’s day care or to meet my mom. I don’t think she gets yet that we’ll be doing this all the time.

Going back to work at the same place I worked six years ago is strange in the way our whole life has been since moving back to Michigan from Oregon: The same, only different. Familiar, but it’s changed. Old friends nearby but lots of new people too. Really it was like being in one of my crazy dreams: I dreamed I went back to work, and you, and you, and you were there . . . and they gave me your old office but stole all the furniture except one of the crappy brown chairs and a pile of screws.

The first day was a lot of meeting new people and chatting with those I’d worked with before, getting set up on the computer, and regretting those shoes as I toured the building which is now much bigger than it was. I’ve also been gradually recalling the terminology and processes I didn’t use as a freelancer–how to set project schedules, how to do pre-production tasks, technical terms like cast-off and loose lines and Green Envelope. It’s like dusting off all that German I learned back in school (Kennst du Ingo? Ingo ist mein Freund.). But I was pretty much able to get right to work.

If it wasn’t clear enough that this is a good place to be, Wednesday we all got a reminder: someone from editorial was in a severe car accident on the way to work. We waited to hear anything at all, then heard he was in surgery and did one of the remarkable things about working at a Christian company: those who wanted to gathered in a conference room to pray for Jeff, his family, the doctors, the other person in the accident.

Like they prayed for me eight years ago when Aaron’s brother died.

Like they have prayed for so many.

I stepped in the room as they were already praying, and this struck me so hard I was immediately in tears. But many eyes glistened as we agreed For Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory and the company president reminded us, “This is why we’re here. This is so much more important than what’s on your desk any given day.”

Please join the many praying for Jeff. They did surgery on his heart that day and are now most concerned about pressure in his head. Family has come from out of state to be with his wife and young daughters. Miracles have happened but he needs more.

.

More blogging soon–after I go catch up on my sleep. Ah, Saturday sweet Saturday . . . suddenly I love you so much more.

New Year, New JOB!

Sha-na-na-na, sha-na-na-na-na . . . I got a job!

Or rather, the job got me. I wasn’t really looking for it, but some opportunities you just don’t pass up. Especially when you really need benefits like insurance you can afford. I just had to get my ducks in a row (hence the photo) and find some blogging time amidst it all before I said anything here (the “40″ hint was for 40 hours a week).

This came about a couple weeks ago and I start Monday (when, most inconveniently, Aaron leaves for a week-long retreat). I’ll be a trade books editor at a publishing house. Let’s call it Family Religious Publishers for now, although some of you know its real name because I used to work there before we moved to Oregon and have been freelancing for them for the last six years. So they know me, I know them–heck, I even have my old office nameplate ready to slap back on the wall.

So I’m not really nervous about it, but I have had my freak-out moments over the last couple weeks because it is a total life organization makeover: Who will take care of our child? How will I get to work? How late will I get home and when am I going to cook, eat, shop, braid hair? I’m going to have to get up how early?

The job is about 45 minutes away from home, although I will be able to work from home one day a week. We couldn’t make that work with only one vehicle, so we had to find a second car. Obviously we needed day care for the Joygirl. Clearly my wardrobe has atrophied significantly over the last six years.

Day care: One of our neighbors has been extremely pleased with the in-home day care person she started using this fall. And my daughter has declared that she is marrying their son, so shouldn’t they spend some quality time together? Unfortunately Aaron’s schedule for this semester is terrible–more afternoon classes to work his internship and study time around–and the day care lady couldn’t take AJ late enough a couple days I would have preferred . . . but eventually we figured out how to make it work. I think. Thank goodness for my mom, who is helping out a couple days a week. AJ has spent a few days at day care already to get used to it and she seems to have enjoyed it and had no trouble at all saying goodbye to us, so I feel good about it.

Transportation: We couldn’t possibly pull off this schedule with one vehicle, and I wouldn’t want to commute in a giant gas-sucking truck anyway (except on snowy days). We needed to find a car that gets good gas mileage but is still comfortable for my 6’5″ husband and our budget. We tried various wagons and ended up with a 2005 Scion xB–the box car people seem to either love or hate (Aaron thinks it looks “badass”). It’s small but it’s funky, the interior is surprisingly big, and it gets 30+ mpg. (I’ll post a photo when I locate it under all the snow we just got.)

I wasn’t really ready to be excited about the job until I had those two major things under control–more like Good Lord, what have I done?–but now I’m ready to actually think about the working part. Freelancing definitely has some great advantages as far as flexibility. But it was hard to work at home with a three-year-old and honestly, I think I will appreciate her more and be a more patient parent when I’m not with her 24/7. I will enjoy working with people again and having a clear line between work at home. And after a month I will have paid vacation/sick time and the all-important health insurance. WILL WORK FOR INSURANCE.

Ready or not, publishing here I come!

Christmas Gatherings Roundup

Those not interested in holiday recaps may wish to skip this post–but check back soon for an announcement about these ducks.

For those who have not yet overdosed on holiday cuteness . . .

Our Christmas celebrations were spread out this year, starting two weekends ago when we all gathered at The Farm: the three of us, my parents, my brother, my sister-in-law, and my nephew “Tobo.” AJ and I went up early to get out of Aaron’s hair during his exam week of doom, so he missed some of the frolicking in the snow and the traditional turning of the house into a cookie decorating factory. Tobo and AJ together are a blast!

Saturday we did stockings and other gifts. AJ and Grandma have matching flannel nighties. AJ got a sweet ride for her Fisher Price Happy Family people. Ever attentive Grandma bought families of different colors and rearranged them so they look like ours (well, the mom and baby look like me and AJ; the daddy we call Denzel)!

Sunday my aunt and grandma were able to come over from the other side of the state, although for some reason I have no photographic proof of this (family members, help!).

Christmas Eve our college friend Chatterbox came to stay with us through this week. We slid over the ice to a nearby church service so we could light candles and raise our voices with the four-year-old standing on a chair next to me shouting, “REJOIIIIICE! REJOIIIIIICE! E-MA-A-AN-U-EL!” (which is the only proper response to the Good News of the Incarnation).

Then came the three Christmas Eve traditions: opening an ornament, opening new pajamas, and reading Twas the Night Before Christmas.

Christmas Day Santa brought all that had been expected (plus two light sabers, go figure): a sled, a new puppy backpack, Muppet Show DVDs, cheapo kid camera, and the long awaited and greatly anticipated–so much so that she was telling strangers in restaurants about how you get it when you learn to spit when you brush–big kid Dora the Explorer toothpaste. Best opened sitting in your sled.

Then we trekked to Aaron’s parents’ house to gather with them and his brothers and their families. Family pictures were only semi-successful but it is always nice to see the brothers together, AJ loved teasing the cat with a feather for hours, and the food was good and plentiful. Just enough fullness for one day.

Saturday night: annual party Aaron’s friend Gus has been throwing for we think 14 years. Fun times with old friends, plus white elephant gift wrapping prize win! Ain’t she pretty? (The contents were even better–who doesn’t want some ugly 1970s coasters and 2 giant bags of lettuce?)

And . . . if you’ve made it this far you deserve a hint about what has been filling my mind and days between gatherings. Ready?

Hint: 40.

More soon!

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