Our Little Family

I repeat: peach

2012-02-07T20:47:00.000-08:00

Just realized that I referred to Theo as a peach around this time last year...then called Margot one, too. At least I'm consistent.

Hello my name is: stranger

2012-02-07T18:13:00.000-08:00

Oh. My. Word. Now coming to you live from- my new phone! Still no computer here at 14852 (hopefully that will soon follow), but with my handy dandy space phone I can access my blog. Can I get a woot!

Since my last post- nearly a year ago!- a few things have changed in our family. As in-- I had a baby. Yay! Sweet little Margot Meg came in a fast and furious fashion on October 22, 2011.

The day's events, taken from my journal:

Saturday, October 22, 2011

8am- wake up, annoyed I'm still pregnant

9am- breakfast

10-11am- Andrew works on MTB trail with Oliver while I prep the house laundry for [dreaming of] having a baby. Bruce + Bonnie here.

12pm- lunch

1-2pm- Megan comes over to keep me company/commiserate with me (Mike broke up with her last week. What a JERK).

3pm- take a Tbs. of castor oil, walk the driveway, poop. [sorry about that last part]

4:30pm- [after working in the garden] first HARD contraction.

5:30pm- arrive @ hospital after leaving the kids with B + B.

6:30- resting comfortably with epidural.

7:45- feeling need to push intensify.

8:00pm- dr. has room prepped, I push.

8:02- we welcome MARGOT MEG TOFTNESS :)

She's a regular peach...uh, do most peaches cry a lot? This one does. But there's still that fuzzy sweetness. We're all crazy about her. This does not exclude Georgi, who loves to beep M's nose, poke her eyes, and burp her head. Yikes. I spend a lot of my hours each day just protecting the poor little lamb from her foxy sister. I won't lie and say it's all strawberries and sunshine, but we have our happy moments in the midst of chaos. :) I'm thankful for God's daily grace.

That's all for now...and probably for a while. This little hand gadget is a bit frustrating to navigate with its small smudged screen and touch-keys. I'm just thrilled to not have allowed an entire year to slip away without record. Eleven months sounds so much better.

And p. s. I can't figure out how to post a picture. Margot's really cute, so imagine a cute baby while you're waiting for my PC.

Teddy Jess

2011-03-04T08:52:00.000-08:00

It is my delight to introduce my nephew, Theodore Jeshua Gaalswyk, adopted into the family of Luke and Anna 2.19.11.
Mom and I had the privilege of welcoming the new lil trio home to their sweet abode in Dayton, OH. My two wee-uns were there, as well. Oliver and George are smitten with this round little bundle of cousin joy. As well they should be. He's a peach...practically literally. Theo's little peachy, fuzzy head is a downy orange patch of gloriousness.
On the subject of adoption: I grew up thinking it was as natural a means of growing a family as birthing a baby. Now as an adult, I am more aware of that truth. Did you know that when a child is adopted, the birth certificate is re-written? In the eyes of the law it is as if they were always part of this family. It brings tears of joy to my eyes. Then I consider the parallel of entering into God's family...tissue, please. Ephesians 1:4-5 says 'He chose us in Him before the creation of the world...adopted as His sons through Jesus Christ...'

Wait...QUIETLY?!

2011-01-12T06:55:00.000-08:00

"Yet this I call to mind
and therefore I have hope:

Because of the Lord's great love we are
not consumed,
for His compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is Your faithfulness.

I say to myself, "The Lord is my portion;
therefore I will wait for Him.

The Lord is good to those whose hope is
in Him, to the one who seeks Him;
it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord."
Lamentations 3:21-26

Oh goodness. I need these words today. I cling to the hope promised.
There has been a false accusation slammed on one of my dear siblings, and it's sucking the life out of our family. I want to stand on the roof and shout the truth... but I wonder if that's what God would call me to do? Yes, truth should be known. But am I in too compulsive a state to convey said truth clearly? Probably. Do I have a hard time waiting quietly? Absolutely.
Waiting= feeling like I'm sitting around doing nothing. I think there's something deeper to this message, though. The SALVATION OF THE LORD comes when I give everything to Him. I need to pour out my heart to Him, calling on Him for justice and mercy. It's so hard. I'm not a waiter. But even more...I'm not QUIET.
QUIETLY= holding my thoughts in 'til I could burst. But quietly in this context would probably mean simply not spewing every ill thought I have, infecting everyone else involved.
The salvation of the Lord is a powerful thing. Scratch that. THE most powerful thing. So, if you need me you'll find me quiet and waiting... struggling on both accounts, but expecting something huge.

Disguised

2010-10-30T13:34:00.000-07:00

Pea in a pod and stinky skunk.

I remember going trick or treating one time when I was little. My family tried to stay away from the ghoulish side of Halloween, and by doing that, we skipped dressing-up altogether. So this year, since Oliver is old enough to notice other kids celebrating big, we had a decision to make.

The origin of Halloween is unclear. Some say it's an evil celebration dating back to the Druids and Celts in the fifth century, B. C. Other studies link it to a Christian/Catholic fete. The research that I did (not deep, by any means), usually began with, "Legend says..." Conclusion? There is no evidence to back anything up. We've concluded on our own that it isn't condoning the evil of that surrounds the holiday by dressing our kids up and taking them out and about. There's fun to be had in dress-up. Some of my fondest childhood memories were made wearing Mom's old bridesmaid dresses playing make-believe with my sister and cousins. Imagination is lost on most children in this age of videos and video games. God has designed us to learn and grow as we imagine who we could be or how we could accomplish the seemingly impossible. Does that correlation make sense?

That being said, happy Halloween from the Toftnesses!

WEDDING!

2010-10-29T10:08:00.000-07:00

Georgi and cousin Lori, my 2 PA assistants.

Sisters.

Jess wearing a t-shirt of Scott at the dance. Hilarious.

Sisters.

2010-10-29T09:56:00.000-07:00

Mr. ring bearer

Have you ever seen a more radiant bride?! The groom is looking rather dapper, as well.

Uncle Jimmy and Auntie Susie with Oliver after mass.

Anna's bridesmaid hair. I think it's my favorite ever.

Mom, Cocoa and Scott, Life

2010-10-29T08:08:00.000-07:00

I'll start this post with a side note: when you tell your mom your password, she takes liberties in adding pictures to your posts. This advice is given with the voice of experience. I'll add that not all mothers are as slick as mine, so you may get something offensive on your blog. I've been fortunate to be only pleasantly surprised to find my blog has been blogging without me.

Next subject: Cocoa and Scott's wedding. The photo Mom put up was from Friday, October 22 - a day of joyful celebration for my dear cousin, Nicole, and my new cousin, Scott. God gave glorious weather for a most glowing bride and beaming groom. I am so happy for these two lovely people - and they are so happy, too! Oliver and I had the opportunity to have a front row seat at the festivities by way of personal attendant/stylist and ring bearer. What an honor! The morning went swimmingly, with only a few minor glitches in the hair-doing. Pictures went well (even though Olives insisted on carrying a puppy around for most of the morning IN HIS WEDDING ATTIRE...he was never even peed on. Whew.). The more gory excitement started after pictures, before the ceremony. Forty minutes before 'Here Comes the Bride,' I was in the church doing my personal attendant duties, while the wedding party was chilling outside. A groomsman calmly came in to report that Oliver fell down and his head was bleeding. I had just told him to calm down and not scratch his face. An uncle of the bride rushed in, holding my bloody boy at arms length, swiftly hauling him to the bathroom. My dear Anna, nurse on-site, said, "Elizabeth, remember, head wounds bleed profusely even when they're not profuse. The cut isn't very big, but it's deep. He probably will need stitches, but he'll be fine." My first thought was so selfish it's embarrassing. *Nuts, no one is going to see my beautiful son walk down the aisle, and I'm going to spend the rest of the day at home with a crying kid.* Isn't that awful?! However, the next few minutes were an amazing display of think-on-your-feet action. Someone called for the clinic number (the clinic being a block from the church!), while another person punched the numbers. A call was also made to my cousin for another shirt (as Oliver's was dripping red), but the mother-of-the-bride said nah, she could wash that out in the sink (what?!). Mom came to drive us (me holding my three year old in the front seat...shhhh), while my cousin held Georgi in the back. On the way Oliver was crying, not because of the injury, but because he didn't get to carry up the rings yet. Ha! Upon arriving at the clinic, Mom did paperwork with the receptionist and I followed the nurse with my whimpering victim. He had two shots to numb, two pieces of hair cut to clear, and one staple to mend. Done and done. We flew back to the church to find Oliver's CLEAN, dry, ironed shirt waiting for him to slip into and he walked down the aisle. There was of course some funny fidgeting that went on during mass, but for the most part the rest of the afternoon was non-eventful (other than, "I now present Mr. and Mrs. Scott Wacker." YAY!). We celebrated long into the night and even the wee hours of the morning. What a day. Beautiful, fun, crazy, unpredictable, blessed. Tired.

Life continues to take us by surprise at every turn. I guess that's what happens when you have children...well, more so, anyway. But in my humanity I want everything to be expected. I want to control my environment and the influence it has on my family. This was a convicting realization when a friend asked me if I had said a prayer of grace for the day Friday. I hadn't, but God - in His mercy - gave grace when it was needed. I think I spend too much time wishing and hoping things will go well, instead of going to the One who is in control of circumstances. I have a cross-your-fingers, hold-your-breath kind of mentality, thinking I'll jinx the situation if I pre-pray it. Why wouldn't I just give things to God? I can't change His mind or plans anyway, why not just align my thoughts with His will through prayer? I'm learning this more and more as I consider the world I live in. Things will happen to my family that I don't see coming. MOST things are out of my realm of control. Don't fear the future, trust God with it.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord.
"Plans to prosper you and not to harm you,
plans to give you hope and a future."
Jeremiah 29:11

our little family t

2010-10-27T11:02:00.000-07:00

Rolling Stones audition

2010-10-20T05:56:00.000-07:00

So, who else thinks I look like Keith Richards in my 'Blessings for Beth' bandanna? Mom kindly put this photo as my thumbnail for blogging. Woof. At least Josie and Georgi look good!

O oliver

2010-10-16T18:28:00.000-07:00

Now, let me tell you first-- Georgi is doing plenty of fine things, too, such as giggling, cooing, playing. Those stories usually merit only yawns from all others who aren't the babe's mother. Though, if you could see her today you would want to squish her even tighter than usual. Olive, George and I participated in a 5k benefit for one of my brother Jess' friends (little Beth who has cancer) this morning. The wind left Sissy's cheeks so rosy she looks like one of Santa's elves. Squish. Oliver had me running most of the 2 miles, which I was planning on strolling casually through. Squish him, too.

Here's the reason for this post: After Bible study Thursday Oliver said to me, "Mom, wanna know what we learned in class?" I was excited about some insight my boy was going to reveal. "What?" "We learned not to touch our neighbor. But there aren't any of our neighbors in my class." Trying to suppress a giant hoot, I explained to him that I thought the teacher probably meant the person sitting next to you in class, not our neighbors at home.

Back to the subject of Beth. I just ask that all who read this would say a prayer for this precious 15 year old fighting to beat cancer down. I got emotional today thinking of all those people (over 900) who showed up to support this sweet little girl. Pray for God's peace, comfort and strength.

The photo above is of Jess and Oliver with Beth at the benefit run for her on Saturday.

One more

2010-10-05T13:02:00.000-07:00

This story involves a green rubber golf ball, a pair of bib overalls, and an Olive who is a boy.
The Olive brought the ball to his nana's for a morning of play. When it was time to go, this silly boy thought a good location for the ball was his back pocket. His mom told him that was not a great idea and that he would feel that lump under his bum the whole way home. As the car backed out of Nana's driveway, Boy Olive says, "We have to pull over, I'm sitting on a lump."
His mom's reply, "I told you that would happen, but you made the choice to put it there anyway. We're going to drive home."
"Drive fast."

Oliver-isms

2010-10-01T13:41:00.000-07:00

*This is a redeeming photo hoping to set your heart aflutter before you read this post*

As we strive to raise the smartest, God-fearing, respectful children (not to mention most attractive), we are finding ourselves suppressing chuckles and hiding grins and pure shock at the things our son comes up with.

1. "Grandma, where are all the frickin' airplanes?" This was during a trip Oliver and Mom took to the airport this spring when Isaac came home for a visit. The rest of the conversation...
Grandma: *shock* We don't say 'frickin',' Bud.
Olives: Mommy says it. [I do not. I say freaken. There's a difference...isn't there?]
Grandma: Maybe we could say 'funny' instead.
Later on...Oliver: Look at those funny airplanes. *Pause* Hey, Grandma! I didn't say 'frickin'!'

2. Andrew had cut the top off a milk jug to scoop the dog food. Oliver found it and a toad, and put the toad in the jug. He brought it in the house, but promptly went back outside as I shooed the two of them out- boy and his toad. I told him he probably shouldn't pick it up because they pee on you. I know that's a dumb thing to tell a little guy - to not touch something gross - but I couldn't help it. My mommy instinct came out and I said something that couldn't be obeyed. Sorry. Anyway, a little while later Oliver shows his daddy the toad...on the end of a stick. He had shishkabobbed it. "I like it so much, and I didn't want it to get out, so I killed it."

3. While staying at Mom and Dad's, Oliver took a bathroom break, during which my brothers, Jess and Jonny, had a little scuffle. Jonny was just complaining to Mom about how Jess (who weighs upwards of 75 pounds more than little Jon), was pounding on him, when Oliver walks out of the bathroom and says, "You're a pansy, Jonny."

4. Again, at Mom and Dad's...
*Oliver drawing at the kitchen table*
Jonny: You pickin' up the Legos, Oliver?
Olives: Does it LOOK like I'm picking up the Legos?

So how do you think we're doing with our parenting? Oh brother.

Crazies

2010-08-23T13:10:00.000-07:00

I am crazy about these people in this picture (minus myself...me, I'm just plain crazy). Oliver Boliver, Georgi Porgy, and Anj. Here we are at a delightful little pizzaria in Dayton, Ohio - one of the destinations on our roadtrip this summer. Oh the joy of family.

Christmas spirit?

2010-07-10T13:17:00.000-07:00

As most of us are celebrating our country's freedom, Georgi is looking like the Grinch Who Stole Christmas - I think it's the way she wears her hair...

Fourth of July week - happy Independence Day!

2010-07-10T13:02:00.000-07:00

Bright Eyes

2010-06-10T20:22:00.000-07:00

A Baby Story

2010-06-04T13:42:00.000-07:00

Here's what happened:

Thursday, May 13 my dear doctor left for CA for the weekend. I tried to hold real still until Monday so I wouldn't go into labor without her (esp. Thursday, when my old employer, Dr. Westin was on call! Awkward.). On Monday, May 17 I went in for an appointment, at which Dr. Maucieri 'stripped my membranes.' TMI? I don't even know what that means really, except that there was a slight chance it would induce labor. After my visit to the clinic, I found Oliver and Andrew at the wood shop and we went walking around town...FOREVER, as I was determined to do anything to get this babe out. Oliver rode his bike, actually, and I can't believe he has legs left on his little body after that day. While walking I had consistent contractions 3-4 min. apart. Exciting, right? Well, when I stopped, so did the contractions. Aw rats. After covering upwards of 20 city blocks, I brought Olives home, he took a nap, I mowed lawn, we went back to town and walked/biked some more. Although I felt like I could possibly deliver this baby while walking, as soon as I stopped I felt fine as frog's hair. At 9:30pm I got the wild hair to go to Wal-Mart for some Castor oil. Anna's sister-in-law drank some at the end of her pregnancy and it sent her into labor. We packed up a tired little Olive, drove across town, got the gunk, and I choked down 2 tsp. You can imagine my acute disappointment going to bed Mon. night without the faintest cramp...only to pop awake at 1:45 with an intense CONTRACTION! I timed them for 45 min. or so, woke Andrew up, he called his mom to come be with our sleeping boy, and by 3:10 we were on our way to the hospital! I was excited and yet somewhat fearful, thinking this could possibly be a false alarm. Not so. When we got to our room, I told the charge nurse I wanted an epidural ASAP, which in anesthesiologist world must mean there's no rush, patient is comfortable...after the nurse finally found my vein (ouch!), and got the I.V. of plain fluid going, I was ready to wring a neck while waiting for pain relief. I had heard a little about 'hypno baby,' which is basically telling yourself, "My body was made for this. I don't feel pain. Etc.," so I tried it. Bologna. The gal doing the epidural had a STUDENT WITH HER! Are you kidding me?! Most painful forever of my life, plus by this time I felt like I should be PUSHING, not holding as still as possible while having an 8 inch needle sent through my spine. As soon as they got that medicine pumping I said, "Okay, I think I should push now." Dr. Maucieri just happened to come into the delivery room, not expecting to be needed for a while longer (considering I had been there just under two hours and my history of delivery was more like 14 hours of labor before pushing). The nurses scurried around prepping the room while I panicked, knowing what I had to do next. I was really hoping I would be able to lay there comfortably basking in the glory of this God-given medicine for a few minutes at least, but no. I gave a few good pushes, may have even screamed and cried, and she was out! With my sweet little Oliver I pushed for a solid 3 hrs. before he finally came. The duration of this push was 5 min. MAX. The doctor said, "She's not very big!" I said, "It's a girl?!" I was completely shocked! I had myself so convinced it was going to be a girl, I thought there was no way it could be. So there you go, labor and delivery - 1:45 to 5:30. Result: Georgianna Lynn, a sweet blessing from Jesus, now wearing so many of our kisses and so much pink...except when she's wearing Oliver's caterpillar jammies. She's already showing signs of silliness in her character by way of her crossed eyes and her hair -it's hysterical. After we gave her her first bath she looked like a spring chick, all fuzzed out. Speaking of yellow, she was quite jaundice by Sat., so had to be on a bili blanket for a few days. She's looking rosy now, though. And just as pretty as a picture. God is so GRACIOUS.

"He has made all things beautiful..." Ecclesiastes 3:11

Georgi Girl

2010-05-31T19:05:00.000-07:00

Here is our little bambino! Georgianna Lynn, 5.18.10, 6# 9oz. She's so precious. As I have more time/sleep I will elaborate. For now - we're praising Jesus that she's here (I'm particularly thrilled to not be great with child anymore), and finding a rhythm with our new foursome.

Whoa Baby

2010-03-01T13:56:00.000-08:00

Should I be concerned that it seems this baby in my belly becomes more active at bedtime? Is that a foreshadowing of life outside the womb for this one? Oh dear. A bit of good news concerning the baby - we did break it to Oliver that 'Blackie' would probably be just a nickname and not something we call the poor dear all the time. He took the news rather well.
Speaking of bedtime, Oliver has graduated to a big boy bed! I know it's about time - he's 3. But the crib was still working so we thought what the heck? Was working. A few weeks ago, shortly after putting the Olive to bed, we heard a crash, like Santa just landed his team... inside. I thought surely our boy Ollie jumped ship. No. He was jumping alright...IN his bed. The platform for the mattress let go in one corner and there you go. Big boy bed. I'll post pictures soon -- his room is really coming together with his little train car beds and books and animals. Fun!
Okay, on the note of Santa Claus: Oliver informed me the other day he wants a chimney for 'Sanda'. That's what happens when you watch Winnie the Pooh's Christmas in the off-season.
News from the wood shop: Andrew, due to a swiftly approaching deadline, worked 82 hours IN ONE WEEK a couple weeks ago, which I didn't know was humanly possible. Oliver and I spent some late nights working with him which is kind of fun. We all have our little niche there at the shop. Things we're good at. For me it's monotony (sanding, planing, sanding), Oliver - movies (like Pooh's Christmas while he's perched atop a mountain of moving-blankets), Andrew making it all come together. And boy does he.
Oh, one more hilarity. My parents are gluttons for punishment, particularly in the grandparenting department. They invite Oliver to spend the night and SLEEP WITH THEM every time we're together. On the rare occasion that this comes to pass, there's actually not much sleeping taking place, especially for Grandma and Grandpa. They subjected themselves to the torture of Oliver's elbows and knees one night last week. After the three stooges were all snug for the night - at eleven bells! - Grandma says, "Goodnight sweetheart." Grandpa replies, "Goodnight." Oliver says, "She was talkin to me."
Whoa baby.

Disaster [entirely] averted

2010-02-15T16:21:00.000-08:00

Boring. Mrs. Hack called Anna this afternoon to cancel their lunch date for tomorrow at 1:00 because it was snowing today at 4:00. Welcome to Ohio.

Disaster [nearly] averted

2010-02-14T07:29:00.000-08:00

"Hi, Anna. This is MRS. Hack."
Gulp.
Ruby - ahem - Mrs. Hack, stated her status straight away. Remember Mrs. Hack? She was the crescendo in Anna's Christmas luncheon saga. True to her word, she called my sister up last week to 'do lunch.' After asking Anna where she'd like to go (to Anna's mortification and abundant hesitation), Mrs. Hack was persistent enough to pull an answer out of Ann. Ruby could pull a tooth out of a tiger. She's very persuasive and persevering. Though Anna's initial response was panic, she knew she had to say something -Mrs. Hack wasn't giving her anything. "Panera's always good." Mrs. Hack's reply: Oo, that's true. The only problem with Panera is that their bread is quite hard.
Nice try, Ann.
They eventually did decide on Panera as their rendezvous point despite their hard bread. They set the date and time and...Anna discovered she had class all day that day. What a bummer. No matter, they just rescheduled. This Tuesday is when our story will get colorful - Ruby red, I'm sure. I can't wait to hear the full report!
So after she thought she had an excuse -class is even legitimate- Anna came to realize there is no excuse for Mrs. Hack, she'll find a way. She makes things happen.

Confession:

2010-02-05T08:53:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I feel trapped in my mind. What I mean is, I get so caught up in my thoughts (frets, really), that I become overwhelmed with all there is to worry about. This seems wrong, considering the God of the universe has promised peace and safety, provision and strength.

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything,

by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving,
present your requests to God. And the peace of God,
which transcends all understanding, will guard your
hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble,
whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely,
whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy -
think about such things." Philippians 4:6-8

Interesting how Paul makes the transition from anxiety to rectifying our thoughts, detecting the origin. Our enemy, the Devil, wants to devour us. He's tricky in using a very personal, God-given tool, our own minds, to manipulate and confuse. Sometimes I feel like he's eating me from the inside out. Though this sounds morbid, there's hope! In Ephesians God gives us a list of tools and armor to combat this most destructive pattern Satan has wound us in. The belt of TRUTH, breastplate of righteousness, sandals of the gospel of peace, shield of faith, helmet of salvation, sword of the Spirit--the word of God. The trouble comes when we don't use these defenses, when our guard is down, when our thoughts aren't fixed on Him. Now, I'm a very practical person, so I know it's not possible to be actually praying all the time. However, I know I can be in constant communion with God, having a prayerful heart.
Here's where it gets tricky again... my sin blocks my communication with Christ. Yesterday at Bible study a new thought came from an old reminder - unconfessed sin is a barrier in our relationship with the Lord. I usually pile this up (sin), until it's looming over me like an impossible mountain to climb... a mountain of sin is a dreadful thing, to be sure. But I don't have to climb it. With the resurrection power of Jesus, I can shatter it! Until I call on the power of Jesus, I am joyless, faithless. Doom and gloom. This is a very real problem I've been experiencing. I've lost my moxy... only to take it up again upon this grand discovery! It can feel like a bleak uphill battle, but when I carry my burdens and blunders to the cross and lay them at the feet of Jesus Christ, I find that the ground is level there. No one is better than me, no one is worse. We all go before Him equally, stained by our choices and washed by His blood. The key is in the confession.

{You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast,
because he trusts in you. Isaiah 26:3}

SariAnn Elizabeth

2010-01-22T08:16:00.000-08:00

Andrew is one of two boys in his family, so after his brother Micah and sister-in-law Heather had three boys and we had Olives, we were beginning to lose hope of ever seeing a wee one in pink. Until Monday, January 18th when Micah and Heather welcomed little miss SariAnn. Oliver and I got to visit with them in the hospital - he was delighted to hold the baby. It gets us even more excited to have ours - maybe a playmate for this princess?

Hail the conquering toilet trainee!

2010-01-21T18:09:00.000-08:00

Oliver decided it's time to grow up. Since he's going to be the big brother, diapers are no longer acceptable. I tried to get this point across for many months, but to no avail. Then he comes along and makes his mind up. Just marching to the beat of his own drum, as usual.
That's the greatest of the latest from our house. Andrew is busy at work crafting customers' cabinets, ensuring that we will have a new baby before a new kitchen in our own home. I'm thankful for his work and annoyed.
We had our twenty-week ultrasound last week (at 21 weeks), and resisted the acute temptation to find out the sex of the babe. We brought Olives along, so that was quite something. All is well, we're expecting our little bundle around May 27th. Come quickly, May Twenty-seventh!

Christmas album

2010-01-21T12:53:00.000-08:00

2010-01-21T12:48:00.000-08:00

Comic relief

2010-01-14T15:15:00.000-08:00

Over Christmas I had the joy of spending time with my entire family. It was so very merry indeed. We all laughed and had good talks. The most I've laughed, possibly ever, was at Anna. I would say with Anna, but she wasn't laughing. Here's the story...
It begins with Anna having the -ahem- privilege of going out for a Christmas luncheon with Luke and all of his coworkers (superiors - scientists, PHDs, colonels, etc.), and their wives. Oh joy, thought Anna.
Now, you know when you have something dreadful to do and you're just getting yourself so worked into a tizzy? You hang onto a thread of hope that things won't be as bad as your imagination has led you to fear. If only that were the case with Anna.
See, she just started digging into her food with gusto, hoping no one one would notice her, and certainly to avoid -the death wish - eye contact. Wouldn't you know it, the general didn't get the body language, and struck up conversation with my sorry sister.
General: So Anna, Luke tells me you're getting your Masters in nursing.
Anna: *GUFFAW*
The poor dear. She just found it so ironic that someone with such a stack of education under his feet, would assume she's already onto her Masters.
After recovering slightly from the shock of her own response, but still looking red in the face, Anna wanted to say she was going to get her Bachelors then Masters, but she put the two together. What do you get when you combine Bachelors and Masters? Well, Anna told the general she was getting her bastards in nursing. Wow, that's something new.
Luke momentarily takes over the story here. He said he stared at his plate for a second, then swooped in and saved his mortified bride. "What Anna means is that she'll get her Bachelors degree, then her Masters..."
Okay, two moments of embarrassment behind her, Anna forges on, hoping to be a most forgettable person amongst this crowd of dignitaries. But did I mention there are three irksome degrees to this saga? The third being the piece de resistance.
I now introduce Luke's boss' wife, Ruby Hack. She had gotten Anna's number from Luke at a prior meeting, wanting to take Anna out for coffee and a chat. So as Ruby's leaving this luncheon she reaches out her hand to give Anna a little wave and say, "I'll call you," when my overeager sister reaches out and attempts to shake it. Ruby's left hand, out there limp just for a friendly gesture, has just turned my poor Annabelle into the most distressed creature. Confounded. Disconcerting. Vexing. Perplexing. Needless to say, Anna's not exactly waiting by the phone for Ruby's call to go out to lunch. Not that again.

'tis the Season...

2009-12-18T05:33:00.000-08:00

...for Christmas cookies at breakfast? Don't monster cookies qualify as breakfast food? There's a ton of oatmeal, close to a dozen eggs, peanut butter. Never mind all the sugar and m&ms and chocolate chips...and high fructose corn syrup (just kidding, it's light corn syrup).
We're getting so excited for Christmas!!
In the midst of the hustling and bustling I'm trying to be still and know that He is God. However, my mind is always racing even if I'm not. I have so much Christmas shopping to do and other things that I would like to get done, that I have a hard time focusing. My pondering has been during the Bethlehem stories Olives has me read to him. Particularly a book called the Legend of the Candy Cane which goes through the birth, death, and resurrection of Jesus. The explanation of the colors is given - red for Jesus' blood and white for his cleansing of our sins. There's an illustration of Jesus bleeding and a guard holding a whip, and Oliver always wants me to 'talk about that mean guy and that blood.' I didn't know what to do with this situation at first, but as he pauses on those pages and asks every time, I pray that it becomes more clear with each narrative. Oli gets a little teary eyed when I tell him that Jesus had to die for our sins (precious). We've had to talk about forgiveness regarding the kids we nanny - you know, when there's hitting and pushing and whatnot. Oh the responsibility of raising this boy is overwhelming. How thankful I am that God is in control and will guide Andrew and me through the process of bringing this little one up. And then we'll have another one to start on.
Suffice it to say, Christmas is a glorious opportunity to convene all wandering thoughts on our Savior,

"Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God
something to be grasped,
but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself
and became obedient to death - even death on a cross!
Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
and gave him the name that is above every name,
that at the name of Jesus
every knee should bow in heaven and on earth
and under the earth, and every tongue confess that
Jesus Christ is Lord
to the glory of God the Father."
Philippians 2:6-11

Now that's Christmas!

All things old and new

2009-12-17T16:48:00.000-08:00

As the year draws to a close, I consider our family's experiences and it seems we're accidentally going green. This term gets me a little riled because it's become such a buzzword. A trend. My dad has never not been green, so it's something I grew up with (usually dragging my feet in protest of the inconvenience). It's not a new, clever, innovative idea, but a habit some have been in since the cold war. I agree that being good stewards of our resources is smart, reinventing used items..it's good. The terminology is what gets me. "Going green." It's a celebrity band wagon. Regardless... this is what we've recycled this year, some with a chuckle:
-our basement (what used to be a dirty, dirt floor dungeon was transformed into temporary living quarters for our family of three)
-the 1997 Mazda 626 that was my sister-in-law, Jessica's (during whose ownership the car weathered hurricane Katrina), then my dad's, now ours
-our house
-about a million and a half aluminum and tin cans, glass jars, milk jugs
-all of the appliances in our make-shift kitchen (in the laundry room)
-the leaves in our yard... ah...I guess we'll be composting them right where they fell
-Oliver's garage sale wardrobe
-so many old things in our house
The thing I'm hoping to add to this list in the new year is my attitude. Not exactly recycle it, but renew it.
Romans 12:2 Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is - his good, pleasing and perfect will.
So I'm hoping that Jesus will be my motivation to do what's right, not pop-culture.
Here's a picture of our home away from home...in our home.

O oliver I.

2009-12-17T16:43:00.000-08:00

Looking and sounding so disappointed in himself, Oliver says regretfully, "I can't even read."
Oh buddy, you are two whole years old, so it's about time you learned.

Bossy big brother-isms

2009-11-20T07:25:00.000-08:00

Oliver has a new one. When asked, "Is your baby going to be a baby sister or a baby brother?" if he doesn't say sister/Blackie, he may say, "A baby brother. We're gonna name him Popsicle Icicle." I have no idea where this came from, as it is with most of what comes out of his mouth. There's an extensive list of words we can't say - the words that I've heard roll off his tongue and make me wince. The problem with me telling him we don't say 'stupid'... now I'm not allowed to say it either. The preschool police will have you eating your words if 'shut up' crosses your lips. "We don't say shut up, Mom." Thanks Olives. Another good one: Dad called Oliver a big brother. Oliver responded, "Good job, Grampa."

iPhone

2009-11-12T10:00:00.000-08:00

I loath technology. This may come as a surprise since it's the catalyst to Blogging, but I would give up my computer if only we could go back to the times of pen and paper (this wouldn't be difficult since I haven't had a computer in my home for a year and a half). The written word. I would love to sit down at a computerless desk and draft a personal note. That concept is out of date. Life is too busy to spend time being personal. I feel like Cathleen Kelly's boyfriend, Frank, on You've Got Mail.
Frank: Name one good thing that has come from technology.
Cathleen's reply, ripe with whit: Electricity.
That's one.
Anyway, at the top of my hate list has been, since it's $500 premier in 2007, the iPhone. I make fun of people who have them. I say they're unnecessary and dull. I'm thinking people don't need to be THAT connected ALL THE TIME. Imagine my lack of integrity when, upon going to AT&T for a plan renewal and new phone, I walked out with none other than...the iPhone of my nightmares. Even as the salesman was showing Andrew and me all the features, I kept saying I hated touch screen and I really didn't want one.
Three days later I'm still feasting on humble pie.
I will stand by my conviction about personal contact, however. There is a time and a place for everything - texting and talking, emailing and snail-mailing.
We've been studying the Gospel of John this year in Bible study and I am amazed at how deliberate Jesus in coming in contact with people. He never avoided a Divine appointment, but engaged in thought provoking conversation, displaying love and care to the 'least of these.' Even though taking the long way around Samaria would have saved him the trouble of talking to the troubled woman at the well, he went through Samaria for just that reason. Because He took the time, not only the woman, but also the majority of the town, were saved. Wow. Since I don't thrive on communication with the outside world (outside my world of Andrew, Olives, and our families), I only hope that I can be aware of the opportunities God gives me to brighten a day, change a life.
One thing's bothering me about my phone still, though. I can't get the silly thing to Blog. Any help?

photos...

2009-10-30T12:56:00.000-07:00

this is carol, elizabeth asked me to post a few photos. here they are...it's all still in the "installing" stage...
enjoy!
this is the main floor vanity and cupboard above the toilet...

this is the upstairs vanity and linen closet...made with old barn wood and sink that was on the property already.

2009-10-20T14:24:00.000-07:00

Congratulations to my cousin Angie and her husband Dave on the arrival of Quinn Michael!! I'm hoping that the excitement will distract Auntie Jolene from the fact that I've no pictures to post today...

Speaking of family excitement, Oliver has something to say--

"I'm gonna be a big brudder!"

Yeah, 'mommy has a baby growing in her's belly.' All three of us are filled with enthusiasm at the thought of this new babe!...though I'm not sure telling Oliver so early on was a good idea. He keeps wondering when's it gonna be here? Not till May, Bud. The snow will come, stay for what seems like forever, then melt, then it might snow again... then we'll have a baby. Andrew and I ask him whether it'll be a brother or a sister. Sister. What should we name her? "BLACKY!!" So far he's named a kitty Meow Meow and another Basketball. Ironically enough, Blacky is the name of a family friend's cat, so we're loosely keeping with a theme. 'Theme: Cat' is not very enduring. His vote is likely to be lost in the final count...

Other than that, we're just, you know, 'plugging away' at the house. (What does that even mean?) Working hard. Trying to get outside painting and trimming and building wrapped up. Not exactly the most construction-friendly fall we're experiencing here what with mud up to our eyeballs. Thankfully we've had some amazing helpers lately. Who would assist someone in the unkindest chore of all - outdoor painting - if they weren't forced? My mother-in-law, Bonnie, father-in-law, Bruce, and cousin Megan, that's who.

Andrew has been working on and is nearly done with both bathroom vanities. We're actually having a little competition, as I designed one vanity, and Andrew the other. If you've ever seen Design Star on HGTV, that's sort of the idea. By the way, I am the next Design Star. We're going to have a vote on whose cabinets are cooler. Andrew is building them both, but I have gotten in on the mindless work of sending ALL the wood through the plainer and sander, then sanding by hand with the orbital. Andrew's piece, for Oliver's bathroom upstairs, is made of old wood I tore out of our barn. When we started machining the boards the whole shop smelled like cow pies. Miraculous... I don't think a cow has lived in that barn for 20 years. That's rich. My pieces (a vanity and stool topper) were inspired by an antique bar my cousin Kelly found under mountains of oil in her garage - emerald green with a wood top. Rich...in a different way than the cow trough episode.

I hope to have pictures ready and running soon.

A long time comin

2009-09-04T07:07:00.000-07:00

Approximately two weeks ago the Toftnesses spent the first official night in the new house. As I've mentioned, we'd spent the night there before, but since that was more along the lines of boundary waters camping rather than civilized living, that night was very unofficial. Our lifestyle is still quite primative, as we live in the basement out of cardboard boxes and suitcases - doing dishes in the laundry tub - but it's such a sweet feeling to know we won't be moving again. Thank the Lord, we're home.

Alive and ..welllll....

2009-08-17T21:20:00.000-07:00

Still living. Yes. It's hard to enjoy life when it's racing by so fast and working a person so hard, but we're managing.
Just today I prayed out loud, "Lord please come back. NOW." That extreme reaction was triggered by my insensibility: I brought Oliver into a second hand store that was quite literally stacked from floor to ceiling with mystery for his little sparkling eyes. Imagine being a miniature person - there he is, all three feet of him, thinking surely the Lord did come back and now here's heaven. Pretending is his favorite passtime, so I can only guess what was going on in his wild head. I made him fold his hands so he wouldn't touch anything - I had to think quickly of an alternative to putting his grubby paws in his pockets as he had none. He told me, "But Mom, we're not praying." We left after some attempted browsing without breaking or buying anything...surprisingly..we're a wicked combination. Whatever was I thinking?..
Progression on the house is happening, it just seems like a turtle slowly plodding. We're hoping to move in soon, waiting to have a working bathroom. It may seem petty, but earlier this spring, in our excitement that we may actually live in this house someday, we rushed in. Fools do that. We had the brilliant idea of staying the night at the house. There's insulation, what more could you need? Hm, let's think. A TOILET. Since that sleepless, frigid night that involved a flat air mattress and a trip to the old fashioned outhouse at 3 in the morning, I put my foot down. No more slumberless parties until there's no flashlight or purell required in the wee hours.
We've also been busy on a much lighter remodel at my parents' house in Deerwood. It's turned out fantastically. When I readapt to the blogging way of life, I'll post a link - the house is for sale, so tell all your friends.
Lots more happening, but I should catch some Zzs while they're still floating by. I'll post pictures soon.

Mused and amused

2009-03-27T14:44:00.000-07:00

One blog a month = wicked boring, but reality.
This morning at 6:30 I smashed up my car. Still waiting on word of whether or not it's totalled. A little about this car: it's been a thorn in my side since I drove it off the lot. It's a grand car- attractive, fast, loaded... just unnecessary for a car of mine to have all these attributes. When buying the car, as we were talking with the salesman (stereotypical used car dealer, btw), God was speaking to my spirit telling me this wasn't a wise choice. It was too late for me by that point though. My heart was lost to it. I had been dreaming of this charcoal 2000 Passat wagon since the first time I clamped eyes on it a few weeks earlier. My heart wasn't open to truth and wisdom, it was open to greed. I love cars. My brother Ise had me playing car-naming games since I was a tot, but the best thing I had owned until last June was a '96 Jeep Cherokee (a '90 Geo Prism preceding that. Jealous?). Wasn't it time for me to live the dream? Here's the thing about the dream -- the summer of 2008 was a high rolling summer for us with buying a house and a car... but looking back it was the most miserable time in my life. I had mono, which was more burdensome than anything I have ever experienced, twisting my body and my emotions into a mess. A major piece to the misery puzzle was trading in a perfectly functional, reliable, faithful old Jeepster for a newer, more attractive model...fully equipped with a 6 disk changer, leather/heated seats, and a monthly payment. Oh the foolishness of me.
Andrew and I are currently involved in a Bible study that's teaching us what the Bible says about money. "Everything in the heavens and earth is yours, O Lord, and this is your kingdom. We adore you as being in control of everything. Riches and honor come from you alone, and you are the Ruler of all mankind; your hand controls power and might and it is at your discretion that men are made great and given strength." 1 Chronicles 27:11, 12
So as we learn God's principles in handling money, we're seeing how doorknobbish some of our choices have been.
In brainstorming about how to humbly get ourselves out of this vehicle pickle with as little humiliation as possible, we thought the best way would be to total it and use in insurance money to buy something smaller and cheaper - a Geo, perhaps? So, this morning as we were driving into town, we made up this whole scenario of how our car could get totalled without any injury. It involved a grocery store parking lot, an old guy who didn't know the difference between 'D' and 'R', said old guy backing into our parked, passenger-less car, and an explosion. *The old man in this story was not harmed in any way. Ironically enough, just minutes after relating this story to my sister Anna via cell phone, I'm suddenly in and out of a major washout on a gravel road, not sure what just happened, wondering where the airbag shot my phone off to. Mission: accomplished...accidentally.

SOOO 2.

2009-02-27T16:14:00.000-08:00

Oliver has successfully reached another milestone. Aside from turning two last month, he's now entered the world of "Why?" As he asks me, I ask anyone who will listen - WHY? Why does he throw fits at church? Why does he obey me nicely (if not surprisingly) all day, until we get to the checkout in the grocery store, where he refuses to look at the cashier smiling down nicely at him, and instead grunts, screams, and tries to flip out of the cart? Why does he still wake me up in the middle of the night? asking me to find his nuk? Why can't I find the guts to take away his nuk? Why do I love him so much? The answer to all of these questions is: because.
"Because God demonstrates His own love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." Romans 5:8
So even though Olives makes me feel like I'm losing my mind, I love him.

Progress!

2009-01-22T20:18:00.000-08:00

Here's forward motion- two days of installing windows, and Andrew and Chris have it just about licked!

2009-01-22T18:27:00.000-08:00

tree

treats

toftnesses

kaspers

Merry Christmas!...uh...my record keeping skills via blog are disappointingly belated. I miss having my computer at home. (I'm even easily forgetting how slow and tired that machine was, only having fond memories of my time punching away at its keys.) But here I am, online at last, though momentarily.

Short, sweet update: our Christmas was great, New Years, too. Next week Oliver will be two. Our house is coming along swimmingly - not speedily, but swimmingly. We're loving the snow and ice, but there would be little chagrin if summer came tomorrow!

Vocab word for the day -- 'skulduggery'. It means mean trickery. I found it while searching my dictionary for a word that I've learned doesn't exist. What a score!

Merry Christmas to All!

2008-12-21T04:41:00.000-08:00

'Twas 3 days before Christmas and all through the house...everyone's snoozing but me. I'm thinking of all the things I could - no, should - be doing at home, as I sleep the air out of an inflatable bed at Mom and Dad's.
Anna and Luke got in last night amidst the blizzarding blizzard, so Oliver, Andrew, and I joined the welcoming/slumbering committee.
Oliver has been at Bubba (my dad) and Mama's (my mom) since Friday night. It was due to this fact that Andrew and I went to the most amazing movie ever Friday - Fireproof. Now, I'll give the disclaimer that it's not the most professional acting (makes sense since they were all amateurs with the exception of Kirk Cameron). And the videography isn't going to win any awards. HOWEVER, the message of marriage is so beautifully conveyed I cried. I don't tear up easily, but I became a reincarnation of Old Faithful, gushing at least five times throughout the film. This doesn't have much to do with the season of Christmas which is so heavily upon us, and that's highly unusual for me to blog about something not acutely Christmas this time of year. It was that good people. I interrupt my regularly scheduled Cheermeister writings to bring you good news of great joy - marriage is a wonderful covenant designed by God and sometimes we just need to be reminded of its goodness. That sounded pretty Christmassy, right?
Let's get to the real issue of today, though (I know you thought marriage was a real issue..). Anna, Sally, Megan, Josie, Hannah -and I!- are singing in church this morning at Mom and Dad's church in Pierz. You know that Carole of the Bells performed by animals? The chickens and goats clucking and bucking their hearts out for Jesus...? I can't help imagining myself as one of the barnyard carolers. The rest of the girls could qualify for an angel choir if the angels were holding try-outs, but I'm more on track with what's on the ground with the shepherds, not in the air above. Moo, Baa, La La La... I'll let you know how it goes...

The Finer Things

2008-11-07T12:18:00.000-08:00

Andrew, a cabinetmaker to the core, is a creative genius. I've had the good fortune of working with him in his wood shop lately, and what a treat it is. His current engagement is a houseful of cabinets for a beautiful new farmhouse.

I used to get impatient with Andrew's perfectionism in his work, but the more I work along side him, the more I realize how important - prodigious - it is to get everything just right. If people knew how much foresight - preliminary drawing, meeting, thinking - and talent was involved in their 'heart of the home,' they'd wonder at how a cabinet maker could part with a piece he's invested such thought and soul in. I'm always in such a rush, wanting to see the end product. The pretty part. No one's going to see what's under it all, so why does it matter if we sand the inside? Why do we only plane a thirty-second of an inch off, when our goal is to make it a half an inch thinner? Can't we just burn 'em all through once and get it over with? These are a few of the questions I plague Andrew with. Sending those 100+ pieces through the sander multiple times bores me. By the way, are all those screws really necessary?

And then I recognize the parallel -- this is just like my life. I spend so much time in front of the mirror primping and curling and crimping and pulling...but what about the inside? I know I don't want to walk out of the house looking like I just rolled out of bed (there's nothing scarier, just ask anyone who's seen my bed head), so I prioritize LOOKING good before I head off to wherever it is I'm going. But what about BEING good? The condition of my heart will outweigh the condition of my wardrobe if I meet a homeless person who doesn't track current trends (my bed head being the exception here. I'm pretty sure anyone would turn tail and run if they were exposed to that).

Yesterday at Bible Study Fellowship the teaching leader spoke on contentment. We're studying the life of Moses this year, and we've arrived at the point where the Israelites begin their complaining. Bitter water, no food, no water again... It hit me with the hammer of conviction. The whining of these former slaves started a mere three days after God had PARTED THE RED SEA, and it's so easy for me to mock them. But my faith in God is usually that conditional, too. As long as I can see His hand, I'm fine. But as soon as He allows trials in my life, I panic. I become discontented. I grumble. I doubt.

The advice I was given - a grand piece in the puzzle of our contentment - is to list five things you're thankful for each morning while you spend time with God. Today I'm thankful for:

1) Coffee in the morning
2) Andrew's work
3) My buddy, Oliver
4) Jesus
5) My sister, Anna, who's home for the weekend!

"The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart." I Samuel 16:7

Lions and Tigers and Other Cats

2008-10-31T10:03:00.000-07:00

There once was a girl who had a big orange cat. The girl loved her cat and treated it like a baby human. In the small umbrella stroller outgrown by her little sister, you wouldn't find a doll. You would find a cat wearing clothes, sitting up, buckled in. The cat had more life (and patience) than any dull doll, and even purred on occasion...when it wasn't being affectionately squished by a most devoted owner.
Well, the cat died, the little girl grew up, and life was feline free.
Until one day, when the girl needed some mousers at her new farm. Her father informed her, "You need two, so no one's lonely." The perfect two were found. But a third cat was soon acquired.
The poor girl, now having memories stirred by all the meowing and purring, couldn't get her mind off that faithful childhood friend - the orange, amiable old soul. So what would she do? Find an orange cat, of course.
She made a visit to her aunt's farm where there was always a cat to be spared. You must know the danger of saying "Here, kitty," in a calf shed filled with cats. The girl was not as brilliant as I'd like to report, and made the mistake of saying those very words in that very place. Cats came from everywhere. To the girl's delight, two of them were orange! Here's where things get tricky - along with the oranges, came a tabby, a grey, and a black kitten. They looked up at the girl with those pleading blue kitty eyes, and what could she do? In a box no bigger than size 10 shoes, this girl stuffed all five cats.
On the way back to her own farm, the girl had to stop twice to round up little escapees that had clawed their way out of the 'sardine can.' She began to think, "What have I done?"
The five new cats joined the veterans - Meow Meow, Amelia, and Moxie.
Yes, I am that girl. And the owner of eight cats. We just finished naming them all:
Wilberforce - the pig
Whiskers - who was singed while sitting too close to the fire
Shmeckles - named after my dad's childhood cat
Jess, Jr. (a.k.a. J. R.) - the little black one we're caring for until my brother's ready for him
Old Grey Mare - cranky little thing
I'm embarrassed, but also quite fond of our kitties. Please don't call me the 'cat lady.'

"You have got a lot of moxie."

2008-10-21T06:01:00.000-07:00

I heard this phrase on a movie recently and, being intrigued, decided to consult my good friend, Webster. Thumbing through the pages I found:
Moxie 1. slang energy; 2. slang courage
This is my new favorite expression.
It's also the name of my new kitten.
Yes, we got another cat. Moxie, a boy, was to replace Amelia, who has a suspicious case of dysentery. But do you think I could part with her? Absolutely not. Where there were none, now there are three. What's wrong with me?
The new kitty, black and white, was named for his energy. While Meow Meow or Amelia could lay contentedly in my lap forever, this one climbs and jumps and rolls until you're ready to fling him on the floor.
--Oh don't worry, I'm sure he'd land on his feet.

Caprice

2008-10-18T09:05:00.000-07:00

Poor, unfortunate Oliver was subjected to girls day out, but my new shoes renewed his joy...mine, too. Fancy that.

Autumn in the City

2008-10-18T08:46:00.000-07:00

We spent some time in Maple Grove yesterday with Grandma and Auntie Sal (stimulating the economy). Oliver was worn from a day slouched in a stroller observing crazed shoppers. After meeting our friend, Beth, in Minneapolis, she and Oli had a little leaf fight on Summit Avenue...our boy's exhaustion was flung aside for the more appealing past time of running and throwing leaves. Oh, Beth. We had such fun with you!
Speaking of worn -- Oliver's small quilted vest was a hand-me-down from his uncle, Isaac, handmade by Mom. It adds to the whimsy, don't you think?

crazy little Olives

2008-10-01T09:59:00.000-07:00

auntie sally's flip flops...mostly flopslooking surprised with daddy

attempting to join cousin wes in the exersaucer

being a messy boy

Animal Farm

2008-10-01T09:52:00.000-07:00

Meet the cats: Amelia Earhart and Meow Meow Bye-bye, pictured respectively.
The first was named for her sense of fearless adventure.
The second was predestined by Oliver to be named something so complicated. I'll explain. We were at a friend's house where there was a cat. Oliver practically devoured the poor tabby - out of love and one year old energy. When we got home Andrew asked Oliver if he wanted a cat. How interesting is the dialogue between a daddy and his boy...
Oliver: Yeah. (Which is his response to nearly everything.)
Andrew: What are you going to name the kitty?
Oliver, obviously confused by the question: Meow meow bye-bye.
Who lets toddlers name pets anyway? Judging from the noise he makes for pigs, I don't think we'll be getting piglets anytime soon. We'd go hoarse trying to grunt out their names.
By the way, our little farm is starting to feel like George Orwell's fictitious world of 'Animal Farm' already, even without pigs. The story, dripping with satire, tells of a barnyard animal uprising. It's actually an allegory about totalitarianism, but at our house, I fear it's coming true. In my nightmare the cute little kittens pull Hector into this revolution. I didn't think we were lunatic pet owners who succumb to the droopy, pleading eyes of furry creatures. After all --
So God created people in his own image...and told them,"Be masters over the fish and birds and all the animals." Genesis 1:27, 28
Lord help us.

mononucleosis

2008-09-19T09:53:00.000-07:00

I've been doctoring for many ailments since an end of June migraine that had me incapacitated, propped up in a hospital bed mumbling something about amnesia.
What's ailing me? My stomach, my head, my neck, my mouth, my mind. As a result, I've had an x-ray, a CT scan, an MRI/MRA, and an ultrasound. (I should be beaming with radio activity by now.) It was thought by the medical community that I may have gall stones. Great. This, following the kidney stones last year, and the overweight-with-high-blood-pressure the year before (hey, it was during pregnancy!). I am the oldest living 24 year old.
Anyway, it was a surprising relief to be diagnosed with a young person's illness - turns out Andrew and Oliver have been the beneficiaries of too many smooches from me - I have the 'kissing disease.'
O Mono, leave me alone; why must you drone on and on?

Good, Charlotte

2008-09-17T09:15:00.000-07:00

Mom and Dad are renting a farmhouse, and right out the front door you're likely to encounter a few pigs, some cattle, a pup named Lily, and a kitty or two, along with the kind farmers/owners - the Froelichs.

With so many things to explore around the barnyard, our most recent discovery was fascinating...right off the pages of a children's storybook!

In the upper left corner of the barn door, you'll spot a crafty little spider who's been busy spinning webs above the Froelich's famous pigs. Dear Charlotte is fuzzy in texture, orange in color, and the most peculiar looking arachnid I've ever seen.

A curious Fern..ahem, Oliver.. appears to be in conversation with the two survivors of an original trio of hams. Their names were Jess, Jonny and Joey after my brothers and their friend Joey Froelich. Perfect.

'Jess' has already met his fate, but if our eight-legged friend has anything to do with it, Jonny and Joey will be safe this harvest season.

The hard workers hard at work

2008-09-10T17:14:00.000-07:00

Chad

Dad

Anj

Heck

2008-09-10T17:07:00.000-07:00

Uncles Al & Teddy

Uncle Onion

Bucky

Bruce, David, Brandon

Life as we know it...

2008-09-10T14:47:00.000-07:00

My absence here at my blog is bogging me down. So much happens in life it's hard to pick the greatest things, then write about them.
Right now our family is in a time of transition. We're living in Deerwood, working in Brainerd, spending time in Pierz and Emily. Needless to say, my car looks like it belongs to a group of vagabonds. I know I'll look back on this time with an element of fondness...but right now, as I'm in the midst of the chaos, I sit dazed and confused. The horizon is bleak.
Wow, how's that for morose?
It's actually been a period of growth for me personally, so that's good, right? I've been able to more fully rely on God, as He's the only steady, unchanging part of my life. (Andrew's typically a rock, as well, but making house decisions has him rather wishy washy these days.) Encouraging other people to trust God through confounded circumstances is easier than applying faith in my own life, but I'm learning...I don't have much choice.
So as we continue to plod on in the reconstruction of our house, we're trying to focus on the Giver, rather than the gift. After all, the second cannot exist without the first.
"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. " James 1:17

Two whole miles?!

2008-08-26T13:59:00.000-07:00

Remember when I wrote about my brave, victorious sister Anna and our cousin Nicole running a marathon? That's 26.2 miles. Just wanted to let the world know that Andrew, some of our cousins, and I ran two miles on Sunday morning in the Pierz Oktoberfest Fun Run... at 8AM! Things wrapped up in about 19 minutes for me... Yeah, I've been training for this event. Andrew finished in 13 and some change. The last time he trained was at least two years ago. Sick.

Attached are some before and after shots. Enjoy.

A long short story "Houses and God"

2008-08-26T11:25:00.001-07:00

I have a few moments at Mom's to write, so I thought I would paint a more vivid picture of God's gracious timing and hand in our house buying experience...
Ever since Andrew and I bought our first house (on Little Pine Road) we knew it was a great start for us, but our dream was to have an old farm in the country - a place brimming with character just waiting to be dusted off and appreciated again. Not knowing the imaginary ideal would or could actually exist, we talked about instead, renovating our small rambler and growing a glorious garden. Then we would wonder how much of ourselves we should pour into a house that could only handle so much of our creativity before it started looking like something from Hansel and Gretel.
We thought we received our answer from God around Christmas time in 2005. We decided we needed a little adventure in our lives, so we were going to move to Colorado. "Shake the dust of this crummy little town and see the world," as George Bailey would say. But, while we were out in Colorado Springs checking on apartments and jobs in June that year, we found out God had a much bigger adventure in store for us - name: Oliver Isaac. So, we turned around and started settling back into our lives in Brainerd.
A year and a half went by with little or no action in our house saga. Our time was spent expecting, then experiencing our baby boy. Then in November last year, our neighbor called Andrew. His daughter was interested in buying our house. When Andrew told me we should sell I started crying, but in the end we knew it had to be God - we probably couldn't have sold if we tried, instead a buyer was sent right to us. We signed a purchase agreement in December, and started exploring the countryside for our new house...farm.
The search turned up one place we put an offer in on. It was good, not great. I'm now thankful that someone else snatched it up instead. We also came across a beautiful old farm that was abandoned, but quaking with potential. After hunting down the owners by way of the platte book and world wide web, we met with them, but they weren't willing to sell. We're also praising God that that didn't work out.
Then we found it. It was just about a month until closing on Little Pine, and we were getting discouraged. We even came to the conclusion that we were going to have to settle for just anything, because our dream didn't exist in reality. We were scheduled to look at two farms with our realtor, Joel. The first was a total bust. I tried not to get too hopeful as we drove the few miles to the second prospect. We passed a couple 'for sale' signs on 5 Mile that said "I'll be on the market forever." As we came to a clearing, there it was - pristine in the early summer greenery surrounding it. The house, the outbuildings (minus the barn), the towering white oaks...everything was just as we'd imagined.
Two days later we put an offer in. The farm had only been on the market a few days, but the owners and listing agent were reviewing six offers by the time we got ours in. We waited anxiously all that day... Andrew came home from work with the news that we were first runner up, but ultimately someone else got it. I bawled.
Then later that week Joel called us back to say that the deal fell through. The buyers, on the final walk-through before closing, found two inches of water in the basement. So, 'what Satan intended for evil [wet basement], God intended for good.' We had to reduce our offer because of the extra repairs we would have to make on the basement. We waited a weekend, which in its entirety felt like an eternity. Joel called. We got it. God is good.
And that's how we came upon our new little farm, a dusty one indeed.

Messy mushes...and Olives with his Grandbobby

2008-07-27T14:40:00.000-07:00

2008-07-27T14:34:00.000-07:00

2008-07-27T14:31:00.000-07:00

Kasper Olympics

2008-07-27T14:27:00.000-07:00

Very serious. Very determined. Very athletic. Very pathetic.

Summertime

2008-07-27T14:18:00.000-07:00

Independence day fun

2008-07-27T14:10:00.000-07:00

Olives fell off a cement something or other in the back yard and gave himself a good scrape on the little goose beak.

Daddy and Oliver watching the 100,000 firetrucks in the 4th of July parade. (That's a slight exaggeration, but there were plenty.)

The gang at the Brainerd football field for the fireworks. What a show! -Andrew, me, Oli, cousins Megan and Canole, boyfriend Scott Wacker.

Oliver was entranced.

Hilarity on 5 Mile

2008-07-27T14:00:00.000-07:00

The toilet on the landing, very conveniently located right inside the lower entry door... so it's no longer a problem if you're gardening and suddenly gotta go. Sadly Andrew dispatched the toilet, which I scolded him for.

Olives enjoying watermelon in his new yard.

Some clothes left from the former owner. Thanks, Gladys.

Dear Gladys had enough scarves to outfit the world... or at least every female at the next Kasper garden party.

2008-07-13T11:45:00.000-07:00

Oliver's day...

Peek-a-boo with Uncle Jonny.

Chillin'.

Cryin'.

--I have more pictures of the house that shout 'renovate me!' in a fairly hilarious way which I'll post sometime. I hope to be near this machine of Mom's again soon keeping everyone up to speed on the [de]construction!

2008-07-13T11:34:00.000-07:00

Bruce taking a break. What hard workers we've had at the house!

The view of both stairways. Someone had quite the vision for color...

The kitchen is pretty adorable, but Andrew is excited to raise the cabinet standard.

Through the kitchen and dining room into the living room. Bonnie worked on tearing out years of linoleum (how many layers before your head would touch the ceiling? Someone was on a quest to find out...we stopped em).

2008-07-13T11:17:00.000-07:00

Our house! You can see Hector dashing through the picture. He had fun yesterday as he familiarized himself with the landscape (10 acres!).

The cute little sofa and chair left by the former owners. Also giving you a glimpse of my favorite out building - it's lined in beaded board and equipped with a wooden refrigerator. Very fun!

Excuses excuses

2008-06-27T08:52:00.000-07:00

People people please! Hear me out - our computer contracted a virus (apologies going out to anyone who got the mysterious email from Andrew that was riddled with tech-wrecking virus nasties. We have no idea how it happened because our computer had already been down for a while before it went through Andrew's contacts and diseased them. Sorry!), therefore is no more. There you go. That's my excuse for my absence.

Things that have happened since last I posted?

I turned 24, which Sally teases me for, saying it's so old.

We made an offer on a house, found out we were first runner up, but didn't get the spot. I bawled like a baby. Two days later the other deal fell through and we were back in...but there were several other offers on the property so we got nervous. After finding out how much work would truly be involved we had to lower our offer and hold our breath and pray and wait...and we got it! The sweetest little farm with the most beautiful yard and out buildings. Our dream. Thank you Jesus. I'll take pictures once it's officially ours (next week).

Got a car.

Read Leif Enger's new book ' So Brave, Young, and Handsome.' After reading the title Andrew asked if it was written about him. He would. Anyway, I highly recommend this for your summer reading list. It's a captivating twist on the wild west. Absolutely brilliant.

Had a garage sale. Sure I made $33.25. Jealous?

Moved to Mom and Dad's house in Deerwood. The lake is a lovely place to spend a summer.

Had a little baby Toftness nephew come into the world - Elijah Carl, the most beautiful baby.

Cheered my sister on through a marathon (hard work, Andrew and I are still recovering).
Got to hang out with so many wonderful friends while Anna, Luke and their friend Jonathan were up for a week.
Went water skiing at Anna's precious in-law's and almost learned to slalom (every time I dropped a ski I quickly encountered Davey Jone's locker, aka the bottom of the sea).
Met a labradoodle named Cody who is adorable, along with his owners. I think Cody has already passed me up in the amount of kisses and hugs he has bestowed on Oliver.

Chased Oliver through all of this.

My stress levels are high and my bank account is low, but I'm just hoping that I'll be able to rest long enough to appreciate the goodness of God and the beauty of His creation this summer season. I hope to keep you 'posted'! (pardon the pun, I couldn't resist.)

William's wisdom & wit

2008-05-21T13:16:00.001-07:00

"The home that really impresses everybody is the one that is suitable. A 'knock-'em-dead' interior, which has no bearing on the lives of people who live there, is like wearing an evening dress to lunch. It may be a beautiful dress, but it looks ridiculous at high noon."
No surprise that Pahlmann continues to explain the practical side of creativity in the most entertaining and obvious terms.
About flair:
"Flair is akin to 'taste,' but people who have excellent taste can lack flair, and people can have flair whose taste is open to question. Flair is bred of the imagination - the extra fillip, that something-beyond-the-usual-pattern, which contributes to distinction and raises the individual above the mean average... Flair is something to do with the love of living and the talent for living. But too much of the rambunctious sort can ruin everything."
Thanks, buddy.

OH Dayton OH

2008-05-20T15:10:00.000-07:00

Let me start by saying - I love flying. I love it. The people you meet boost the excitement (plus there are those you don't actually meet but just SEE...one of whom was a crazy punk with an orange Mohawk, tattoos on his head and everywhere, and ears gaged out to the size of a pop can top...Oliver couldn't stop staring. The guy was really nice, though. He told me Oliver was 'adorable.' Imagine a spectacle like that using such a kind word. When will I learn not to judge a book by its cover?).
But the true exhilaration is takeoff. There is no feeling like jetting down that runway as fast as it takes to get something as monstrous as an airplane + passengers off the ground. IN THE AIR.
I will admit that traveling with a one year old makes things slightly less jovial. Okay, by the time we actually found our gate, which was roughly three miles of walking with a back pack, satchel, and baby on the hip to the very end of everywhere, I wanted to call Andrew and demand he accompany me from here on out. I was sweating before I even had to try to contain a toddler on a cramped plane next to an old bachelor who didn't seem to know what a kid was and certainly had no idea what to do with him. Then we boarded. We found our seat by the window along with our traveling companion for the next 2 hours - the man I just described. Now, don't think it was as hellish as you first suspect, for worse things could have happened than did on that ride over country and through clouds. The flight was over before any of us (Oliver, our unknown seatmate, or I) started crying.
Fortunately, navigating the Dayton airport was much simpler than Minneapolis. We found our luggage and -- OUR FAMILY -- with hardly a blink. What a joyous reunion! It had only been a little over a month since Olives and I had been to see the Gaalswyks, but when I saw Anna and Luke I realized just how much I had missed them (mostly Anna...kidding!) and my heart sang.
I won't go into detail about everything we did or saw or talked about because it would take a year to retell every splendid moment. I will say that we made up for all the giggles, talks, and shopping adventures we would have otherwise missed since the last time we were together. Some highlights were reading aloud Leif Enger's new book "So Brave, Young, and Handsome"(MUST READ!), garage saling, getting lost to and from the outlet mall we went to while Luke watched Oliver (for 4 whole hours! thanks Luke!), hearing their pastor at Apex speak, visiting with the Turkish and Korean women where Anna goes weekly for 'conversation time,' arranging and rearranging furniture/accessories, coffee talk, and oh so much more.
After a tearful goodbye Oliver and I made our way through security to our gate, where, while waiting, we met some other rambunctious little boys who watched airplanes and ran around with us.
On our return flight we had the privilege of sitting next to the sweetest family from Montana. The dad, Mark, who's a real life cowboy, gave Oliver high fives for a good portion of the trip, while the 13 yr old daughter, Courtney, played peek-a-boo with Oliver. I didn't get the wife/mom's name because she was next to us just telling about the other two the whole time. She also held Oliver for most of the flight, making his interaction with the rest of her family easier. She almost got the little goose to sleep. It's a strange thing being that geographically close to someone for 2 hrs of uninterrupted time, and yet know you'll never see them again. Hm.
When we got back to MN I was so very travel weary. Thankfully the moving sidewalks took a little strain off the 3 mile hike we tramped to our baggage claim.
And there was Anj, just waiting by the carousel, smiling expectantly. Another joyous reunion.

Ready or not...

2008-05-20T15:03:00.000-07:00

At the airport.

It's a SWEAT BAND.

Oliver was introduced to the amazingness of the 'cookies and cream' milk shake at Chic Fillet. Love at first taste.

Out and about

2008-05-20T14:49:00.000-07:00

Reading at Books & Co.
At a great little bar + eatery- the Pub - in the Greene outdoor shopping mall.
The classiest and most quaint coffee shop. Never mind me looking like a Sneech, check out the brick wall and the beautiful desserts in the background!
Luke coaches a baseball team of 11 and 12 yr olds. We got to see them play an exciting game! (I think Oliver's on the edge of his seat...I mean stroller.)

Buds

2008-05-20T14:31:00.000-07:00

Oliver and Uncle Luke had a great time bonding. There was a puddle in Luke & Anna's backyard, so naturally the boys had to play in it, Oli was tuckered out after the outdoor adventure, then the two shared a laugh at the coffee shop.

It's a date!

2008-05-12T10:55:00.000-07:00

Andrew and I actually went on a date the other night! This was the first Oliver-less date since Valentine's Day, so it was pretty exciting. And so much fun! Mom watched the babe, so she took a few pictures of us when we got back to the house.
The first picture is Andrew proposing to me with his ring on my right hand. Very -ahem- special. He could be a photographer with creative ideas like that rolling around in his head. Imagine what else could be up there.
Next we have a shot of the two of us again, this time Andrew's cooperating. It's a moment where I'd say, 'take a picture,' because it doesn't happen often...but since it is a picture, we're very fortunate that it is in fact documented.
We obviously couldn't take many snaps without getting Oliver involved. Here is another crazy Kodak moment where the three of us all have our eyes open and real smiles on our faces.
Oliver was looking so darn great in this picture, but this time - I must confess - I was looking quite ridiculous. Thank goodness for the ability to crop.
I don't remember if I wrote about our glorious Valentine meal at the Black & White in Little Falls, but that's where we went for our Friday night date as well. We were not disappointed -- the best steak I've ever had, plus bread pudding that was TDF (to die for, Mom).
The romantic evening left me feeling so blessed to have Andrew as my husband. I get to go through life with my best friend by my side. In the busyness of life it's so easy to get distracted by my own selfishness, forgetting God's design. But in the garden of Eden, at the very beginning, He took a rib from Adam and created Eve, symbolizing that we're dependant on each other- incomplete without the other. I pray that I would never lose sight of that significance.

O William

2008-05-07T08:58:00.000-07:00

My dear Mr. Pahlmann has done it again! I was reading this morning, wanting someone else to share in my joy and entertainment. Please do.
After he talks about the unnecessary frills of formal decorating (i. e. forbidden passage to parlors and guest rooms), he then cautions against being too careless with the casual side:
"I cannot refrain from interpolating here that I think casualness can be carried too far. The overstressing of easy living has resulted in some houses I have had the misfortune to visit being scarcely distinguishable from a pigsty. I think it is a mistake to reduce surroundings, in favor of casualness or easy living or anything else, to such a low common denominator that there is no pride or dignity left.
"Children who are brought up in such houses will have to learn about order and respect for property somewhere else. A certain amount of discipline is necessary in life. A child who is reared in a concrete cell, with furnishings he can and does take the hammer or the hose to, has every opportunity of becoming a barbarian. I am aware that I may be treading on the toes of progressive theorists in child psychology, but I base my contentions on horse sense."
It cracks me up! He tells the truth with such sarcastic flair, wearing his passionate conviction on his sleeve. I'm only on chapter 4 of 34, so I can't wait to see the next of many revelations I'll receive from my new friend.

"NO"

2008-05-06T05:52:00.000-07:00

Yes, that's Oliver's new word. He just started saying it yesterday, but so far I don't think he understands exactly how or where to apply it in life. It's only a matter of time before he begins telling me whether or not he'll obey, instead of just physically defying me (which he is in the habit of doing). He's been quite the stinker - looking at me after I tell him 'no' (irony?), and doing whatever it was that he got in trouble for with so much rebellion in his face. Perhaps I'm being a little extreme. My one year old may not be rebellious, but when he shoots me that look of ' what ya gonna do about it?' I'm quickly brought back to reality. My child is not the cherub he pretends to be, but a descendant of Adam - which makes him heir to natural sin. I'm always annoyed by moms who act like their child can do no wrong. Like when their kid pushes another over, they go to the other person's innocent child and accuse them. Though I can feel myself doing that, or at least considering it, it's denial. I want to believe that little Olive is an angel. -My son is the perfect kid we've all been waiting for!- But even now, as he cries in the background wanting me to help him down the stairs (which he can maneuver just fine on his own but simply needs me to stop doing what I'm doing), I'm hit with the truth: no body's perfect, including my precious baby. He's making that quite clear.
In other news, Oliver got new sippy cups. He is so proud of himself, carrying his cup of water around like it's a prize. Oh the simple joys in life.
Also, backtracking to a post where I quoted 'Sheep in a Jeep' - I credited Margot Apple with the writing, but she's the illustrator (the pictures are amazing). Nancy Shaw wrote the beloved book. Way to go ladies.

Our Sunday afternoon

2008-05-05T14:17:00.000-07:00

Oliver is signing that he wants more chocolate chip cookies. Who would give their one year old a choc chip cook while in a car seat?!

Our newest baby carting contraption - a baby back seat bike seat. Andrew's old Trek? Now a bicycle built for two.

2008-05-05T14:10:00.000-07:00

Trying to take a family picture...

Still trying...

Oliver playing in the garage in his church clothes.

Spring 2008 arrives! - for the 3rd or 4th time.

2008-04-29T16:23:00.000-07:00

Here's the little Olive out for a springy stroll. Things are starting to dry up again, so we ventured outside to see what we could see. The discoveries? Hector, sticks, rocks that taste bad, a dead birdie, snow that tastes bad, the neighbors, and everything that could be scooped with a little plastic shovel.

roundup

2008-04-29T16:06:00.000-07:00

Saturday we braved the blizzard and went up to Breezy Point for little Levi Toftness' birthday party - the big 2! The cowboy theme was a riot. We didn't do a very good job taking pictures, but here are few keepers.

Micah and Andrew - one word: hooligans.

Micah - moonshine?

The birthday boy licking green frosting off his thumb - so precious.

2008-04-26T05:25:00.000-07:00

Who knew putting a mum out mid-April would be premature?

seriously

2008-04-26T04:53:00.000-07:00

Alright - yesterday when I wrote that piece about winter/spring intermingling, I wasn't exactly prepared to stand my ground if by chance, say, an April 26th snow storm should hit. Taking the forecast into consideration would have been a good choice for me. I'm trying to hold myself together and admire God's creativity...and humor.
"There is a time for everything, a season for every activity under heaven." Ecclesiastes 3:1
I guess this year's snowboarding season is extended.
And may this also console our hearts, once again -- "No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn." Thanks, Hal. Promise?

O Spring, where art thou?

2008-04-25T10:45:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I remembered that my Country Home magazine should be coming in the mail any day now, so I've been keeping one eye on the mailbox as I wait expectantly. This afternoon I noticed it was a wet mess outside as I considered the trek to the end of the driveway (at least 50 yds round trip!), so I donned a rain jacket and set sail. I didn't realize that the chill of winter was also making a temporary, yet determined comeback, and was nearly a popsicle when I finally (yes, added drama) got back inside - safe, sound, and slightly soggy.
Here's the thing: even though I don't exactly relish the regression of our current weather pattern, I've also made the brilliant discovery that -- it's God's weather. It's God's earth. He's in control. Not that I didn't know that before, but I'm trying to remain conscious of it - especially when it's oh so un-balmy outside. Hopefully now that I'm so enlightened I won't complain about the rain and cold. If someone openly criticized my artwork I would be very sad. God hears everything we say, so it's an insult to the artist when we gripe about the elements. As I continue to pray for warm, cheery weather, I will contentedly bask in the glory of God's creativity...or at least try.

We are here! We are here! We are here!

2008-04-23T06:30:00.001-07:00

A note from Whoville (or at least what feels like one of Dr. Suess' lands of craziness and irony):
My sister's saying I don't blog enough. I'm just trying to keep up with my precious toddling noodleheimer, so forgive my scattered thoughts.
Lately the basic format of a day is wake up, eat, go outside, take a nap, eat, go outside, take a nap, and so forth. (Along with some other un-pleasantries that come with a diapered babe.)
Let me take a moment to further explain the photos.
I pushed Oli around the yard on the tricycle for quite some time yesterday. It was like pushing a chalkboard being scraped by fingernails - the wheels could use a little oil.
Do I need to explain the dancing street urchin? I was in a hurry.
The reason I sepia'd the 'old man' picture, is because Oliver was the pinnacle of fashion faux pas, wearing navy, black, and brown all at once. Not his fault, mine. I didn't want anyone to know, so I changed the color...
Oliver's teeth are amazing.
I'm happy to announce the breakthrough to sign language that Oliver has recently made. He can sign 'more,' 'all done,' and as you can see 'please.' I didn't want to teach him to sign at first because I thought it was just a silly thing that over achieving mothers made their children do. Once again I am humbled, put in my place by the discovery that I know nothing and have nothing but judgemental thoughts most of the time. In an act of desperation, I resorted to 'try' sign language to prevent Olives from grunting and whining about everything he wanted. Thank you, moms, for the brilliancy of baby signs. Along with the encouragement from my dear speech-pathology master Megan, I succumbed to the wonderful world of silence, which is truly golden.
Next allow me to point out another mommy blunder - letting a one year old feed himself spaghetti. I thought I would never be that stupid. My brains have officially left my head and gone somewhere unbeknownst to me. Yesterday I had the rare privilege of going to the salon to get my hair done. There is a dear friend and miracle worker who transforms me from beast to beauty ( my hair anyway), Aubry. What they say of stylists is true - they...ahem, we... are also counselors. Aubry has the divine blessing of a little daughter, Adison, who inspires her in every way. Are you wondering why this subject is not a new paragraph? It'll tie together, here: Aubry said she thought all her clutziness and absentmindedness was a result of being pregnant, and after she had the baby she would return to her normal intelligent self. But after Addy arrived, she discovered that 'normal' becomes a new state of mind, and that 'back to normal' will never exist. Isn't she wise? Oh Aub, I love you. All this to say - spaghetti is everywhere and I'm to blame.
And now the real kicker, not pictured -- my parents and sneaky little sis went behind Oliver's and my back and last night surprised us with the early birthday gift (for Anna and me) of a plane ride to Dayton, OH, where Oliver and I will spend a long weekend over Ann's birthday. This is a dream come true. I'm always wanting to surprise people with this or that, then my own family (Andrew was in on it, too), pulls a fast one on me. Oh dear. I'm overwhelmed with shock, awe, and gratitude. I love you, family!

2008-04-23T06:25:00.000-07:00

Me and my bike

Olives and Daddy dancing - note Oliver's outfit. I had him all ready for bed, then Andrew decided the fam should go for a walk, so I had to make sure he was toasty warm. I hope none of the neighbors saw us out.

2008-04-23T06:20:00.000-07:00

Oliver looking quite like an old man in his sweats, crocs, and skinny little ankles

Looking quite like a little hippo in his teeth

Signing 'please' (you're supposed to rub your chest with one hand, he rubs his tummy with two)

The effects of spaghetti

sticks and stones and silly boys

2008-04-17T19:34:00.000-07:00

2008-04-17T19:31:00.000-07:00

what separates us from the animals:

2008-04-16T10:47:00.000-07:00

Did you ever think you could communicate with animals when you were a kid? I remember I used to hear a bird tweet, then I would whistle back, then the bird, then me. It went on for a while like that, until I grew weary of 'entertaining' the chickadee or what have you. To my chagrin, the little birdie always continued his song long after I tired, reminding me that he was talking to himself, not me. Anyway, this was brought back to mind today when I began to have a little chat with a spring chick, hoping Oliver would be so impressed with my mythical skills. Turns out he didn't care and neither did the bird, they both just kept on rocking their own worlds. Humph.

Our little buddy

2008-04-11T12:09:00.000-07:00

Some pictures Andrew took the other day while the little goose was out helping Daddy grill; also Oliver holding his two favorite toys.

Installment II: A day in the life...

2008-04-11T11:33:00.000-07:00

The first photo here shows Oliver looking rather tough. The story behind the carpet burn on his forhead? I was at the computer, Oliver was playing with every ball in the house -basket, volley, ping-pong, exercise, e&.- near my crafting desk. (I use the word 'craft' loosely to mean creating and inventing, not painting little wooden cut-outs. Just thought I'd clear up any questioning of my character). So there he was playing so vigorously with balls, when suddenly I heard him saying, 'ba ba,' in a panicked voice, then start to whimper. I looked over and all I could see were two little feet kicking away, the rest of his frame burrowed under my desk. Stuck. What choice did I have other than to pull him, by the wiggling foot, out of there?
Hopefully Oli and I both learned a lesson from this misadventure - he, not to crawl under my desk in search of a lost ball; and I, a better understanding of how parenting is a glimps at the way God feels about us.
Last weekend Andrew, Oliver and I had the privilege of worshipping with Mom, Dad and the fam at their church. The pastor talked about Samson and his deadly desire that essentially got him killed. He wanted something so badly, that he couldn't see the danger in pursuing it, just like Oliver went after the ball even though he knew the space was too tight for him. I feel bad about the pain I caused in dislodging him, but the pain of being stuck in that place would have been far worse. Imagine how God must feel when he has to pull us out of our messes. I'm sure his heart aches seeing us so blinded by our excitement that we can't foresee disaster, but he loves us enough that he doesn't want us to stay in that place. If we cry for help, he'll rescue us. He's always there, waiting to pull us out by the kicking foot. Those are my theological thoughts for today.
The second photo is the view out Olive's bedroom window this morning. Remarkable.
P. S. Oliver doesn't know how to smile without the involvement of his nose.

The place we call home...

2008-04-09T16:54:00.000-07:00

Almost everything made of wood in my house was crafted by my dear husband (besides the old garage sale and flea market finds). The irony? All the building was done while going to school for cabinetry, and now that he's a hard working professional, he spends all time and energy creating for paying customers. What the heck?! Example: whenever I see a cunning little shelf or any piece made of wood that I could put to use, I tell Andrew I want to buy it. He comes back with, "I can make that, don't buy it!" What do I say? "Prove it." Apparently I don't pay him enough... So you see, it would be easier for you to get a new piece than it would be for me.

These are for you, Jolene. I'll get some outside photos when we've got some vegetation. Right now it's looking quite homely.

Oli's bedroom.
Also the Olive's room. I wrote a verse on the wall, but it's pretty light... "I am like an Olive tree, thriving in the house of God." Psalm 54:8
Our room. Andrew built all the furniture for a school project. Hard to really see what's going on here...
This is kind of a rough shot of the living room...but I was trying to fit as much as possible in one picture. Impossibly ridiculous.

As you can see, I pretty much put anything to use I find laying around. Half a dining room table? Sure, I'll screw it to the wall (it actually was whole, I had Anj take it apart. He's so patient with me!). I am teased tirelessly for having empty frames on the wall, but I say they make enough of a statement on their own, they don't need pictures (plus they're a wacky size that's not so accommodating). I just got new white curtains for the bedroom, which I'm pleasantly surprised about. I like them and didn't know I would. I also reupholstered the living room chairs two summers ago, so good thing you can only see half of one. Not my finest work, but it was a fun learning experience. I fashioned some pillows and a quilt for Oliver's room, too. O my cousin Kelly and aunt Hopper would be severely disappointed if ever they got a close view of anything I sew. Ever heard of winging it? That's my motto when I'm at my machine. My pictures of the family and guest rooms wouldn't fit in this post, plus Oliver scurried into those pictures and started tearing things apart while I was snapping the shot. Good grief.
Anyway, our home in a few pics and a lot of words.

Curious

2008-04-07T20:15:00.000-07:00

holy ba

2008-04-07T14:57:00.000-07:00

The other night my little pumpkin said 'ba' in his sleep. Twice. It means ball, not to be confused with 'baa' (what the sheepy says). Oliver loves balls and he won't let me forget it. He could spot something round (no pun intended) anywhere we go, think it's a ball, then animatedly say the word over and over and over. You should see him at Jess and Jonny's basketball games... Yes, he's a little sports fanatic at this young age. When we watch the Twins he sits attentively, clapping at all the right times. I'm convinced he'll be a star athlete - the next Joe Mauer. Though, judging by the size of his parents, he'll probably be a basketball mvp.

Note from Andrew

2008-04-02T20:33:00.000-07:00

This seems a bit morbid for my blog, but Andrew insisted that I post it. Here it goes...
Though I didn't witness this myself, Anj says shortly after he lit the first bonfire, it looked like things were about to get messy. As he was unwinding the yards of garden hose to tame the blaze, he suddenly spotted a ball of fire coming from the pile. A flaming rabbit shot right out! Peter cottontail scurried past him (on his way to a snowdrift I hope). Messy indeed! Silly rabbit. Tricks are for kids.

Spring cleanup

2008-04-02T14:07:00.000-07:00

Two of the best smells? Wood smoke and spring air. Last night we experienced both.

Andrew is a lumberjack. He has a passion for chainsaws and cutting trees, resulting in brush piles that could challenge sky scrapers. Though lawn mowing isn't quite in season, we've prepared for it by extending the yard another ten feet west - by way of fallen trees and blazing brush piles. I'm not a fan of monstrous yards ( I don't mind mowing, but I like the privacy a canopy of oaks offers). However, the moment my husband spies even a single dead leaf, I can kiss that particular tree good-bye.

We had two of these giant stacks out back until last night when the yard expansion project began. Andrew & I hauled sticks while Oliver helped cut down on the load by eating his share. It was actually quite pleasant to get out in the fresh spring breeze and do some hard work. I love togetherness.

And when the piles were loaded high, they were ignited. A beautiful sight - Olives was mesmerized. So was I.

The work didn't stop there, though. Next came the poking and the pushing and the watching and the sweating. Glorious. The pay off? Today we smell like well roasted marshmallows and our eyebrows are singed. Our cheeks are still rosy from catching the glow of the fire, and we're one step closer to connecting yards with our neighbor.

Here it is!

2008-03-31T10:21:00.000-07:00

My new favorite reading material. I want to blog the entire book, which doesn't seem legal, but it's so well written I long to share it with everyone - as I'm reading I feel like Scout and Jem are going to come bounding around the corner and start telling me about Atticus' way of making their little house feel like home (To Kill A Mockingbird).

Anyway: "We can all have happy, comfortable, pleasant homes if we care enough. It is necessary to care. You can transform unprepossessing materials into a happy home if you care, think and plan... Interior decoration begins with a study of the people who are going to live with it. This is not only necessary for the best results but often turns out to be loads of fun. It also costs nothing, which lends enchantment. Know thyself!" Are you inspired? Oh I hope so.

This has been my bedtime reading, which doesn't seem like a good idea. It's like consuming an energy drink before hopping on an airplane - not smart! Andrew is so patient with me as we sit there with our books. He'll be quietly reading some melancholy mystery, and I'll interrupt him with interjections like, "Get this-!" and, "Oh my! That's exactly right!" My poor darling. He is also an artist, though, so my excitement is sometimes met with mutuality when it comes to new ideas.

This morning while doing my BSF I was enlightened further as they directed me to Deuteronomy 6 & 7, where it talks about loving the Lord with all your heart, soul, mind and strength. God tells the people to talk about this and the rest of the Ten Commandments all the time, "Impress them on your children... Write them on the door frames of your houses and on your gates." How awesome to be deliberate about making Christ the center of your home. Pahlmann doesn't mention God in his design theories - I'm not sure where he stood with Him. I know I'm passionate about the Lord and I'm passionate about design, so naturally enthusiasm is mine as I consider the two together.

Oh, I've forgotten to cite that Oliver is often subjected to my design woes as well. He's my little sidekick as we meet with our clients (my mom and my sister's mother-in-law so far). He's going to really love it when we get into some projects that require demolition...

2008-03-28T09:40:00.000-07:00

They never give me enough room for all of the pictures I want to share... My baby looking very thoughful at the hope of spring - when he won't have to wear silly old mittens!

Last hurrah

2008-03-28T09:14:00.000-07:00

the joy and thrill of being pulled in a sled!

snowboard stance - we're teaching him early

meeting mr. miniature snowman

chillin with ma

Interior Design

2008-03-27T15:36:00.000-07:00

I picked up a book by the late William Pahlmann while rummaging - ahem - through some boxes at Goodwill last week. "Pahlmann's Book of Interior Design" is surprising me. First of all, its copyright is 1955, so the design itself is sort of old school (especially when all pictures are in black and white). But after I poked around a little online, I found that Pahlmann's design was quite revolutionary to the industry. 'Eclectic' is the word used most frequently in all writings I've found on him, which is my favorite design style, as it combines a little of everything to make a space uniquely yours. The fact that he seems to be a brilliant artist, from what I can tell, is actually secondary to the real reason for this post. Though I still don't know much about who he was as a person, I want to share a little from the book which makes him seem like a pretty classy, down-to-earth kind of guy...
"I am aware that to make an original comment on the word home, either in its generic or specific sense, is licked from the start. Not only has the subject been enshrined by everybody from Shakespeare to Robert Burns...but also the feeling for it is instinctual to the human heart... Personally, I have strong and shameless sentiments on the subject. I believe that the home - that setting for the basic family unit - is not only the measure of individuals but of nations. Home is the place where all the battles will be won or lost."
Brill. Plus, he starts the book off with a quote from Charles Dickens: "In love of home, the love of country has its rise." How sweet. Timeless. Classic.
Pahlmann goes on to say that having a fancy dancy house means nothing if you can't actually live in it or if none of it is really you.
from me: Your home should be a reflection of things that make you smile, give you joy, bring you peace. Home is a sanctuary from the outside world. Since it's one of the only places in life you can control, why not make it the best it can be? Write Bible verses on the walls, splash your favorite color everywhere, mix old with new. There's also a balance of too much going on and that can actually evoke feelings of tension, so be smart about it. Be organized. Have built-in storage units (I know a guy who could hook you up). Then use your things for better living. Display favorite books or plates or that quilt from great-grandma. Nothing says 'you' like your home. May it be a reflection of all the unique and beautiful character qualities of your heart. Don't let anybody sway you otherwise.

Easter Crocs

2008-03-26T12:27:00.000-07:00