"it"

This weekend has been a great weekend. I have had time to simply be with my husband and daughter. We’ve taken long walks, snuggled together, watched sort of pointless movies, eaten our favorite foods, socialized with friends at numerous graduation parties, and even found time for a nap here and there and a trip to Hobby Lobby.

Life, as we’ve known it, has become much, much different. In no small degree, Sydney’s advent into our lives has actually given us the permission that we needed to just slow down a bit and take it all in … it being the proverbial “moment.”

Missing the moment is a hazard of living I guess. Certainly life as a teacher followed by life working at the YMO contributed to a sense of rather frantic living – constantly pressing, planning and preparing for the next momentous occasion. As a child and as a student, I was forever waiting for the next big project, holiday, class outing or special event. As a teacher, I lived life bell-to-bell, break-to-break, and lesson plan-to-lesson plan. My professional life over the last six years has been gears up toward the enormity of the National Youth Gathering. So, in my new context of parenthood and professional life, it is a pretty novel experience to being living life recognizing that (and I don’t mean for this to sound pitiful) this is pretty much “it.” Waking and living and working and playing and caring and cooking and laughing and … this is LIFE.

And, is it wrong to say this so boldly, I like it very much.

There are moments when I am giving Syd her evening bath, or chopping veggies for some yummy dinner concoction, or simply enjoying the evening (like I am now, clicking away on my keyboard while Leon stretches out and watches ESPN) and I stop – breathe – and take “it” all in. This living of life in ordinary moments. And I think, “Wow. I like it very much.”

And so as a new week begins and our first real holiday weekend as a young family (and yes, I know that Easter was tucked in there … but we were still too foggy headed and sleep deprived to appreciate it much) draws to its close, I think Leon and I would say: it is indeed a wonderful life and we like it, very, very much indeed.

“Safety Clown Says” … or, today was just a great day!

A few years ago, as the ice cream truck circled our neighborhood, Leon and I had a conversation about how slightly creepy and sort of Hameln-esque we found ice cream trucks.

Sure, back when we were kids the ice cream truck was exciting enough. Deep in the heat of summer, you would hear that alluring bell; run to your room to scrounge your pocket change together and then indulge in a syrupy sweet bomb pop, or an orange dreamsicle, or those really tasty strawberry shortcake bars and – if you were like most kids – you enjoyed every sticky faced moment of sugary bliss; but then you grew up and moved on to more sophisticated ice cream treats. And the neighborhood ice cream truck with its clanging bell and music-box soundtrack was forgotten.

Well, like so many other things these days, Leon and I have reevaluated our “oh-so-grown-up” attitudes toward the neighborhood ice cream truck.

Before I get to that, let me just say that today was an absolutely show-stopping day. I woke up with the birds at 5AM, but was content to dose with a sleepy smile on my face until I heard Miss Sydney at 6:45AM. (Actually, truth be told, I was waiting to hear her. Saturday mornings have become family snuggle time, and I honestly just could not wait for her to wake up. I know, I know – someday SHE will be the one waking us up at 6AM for cartoons and cereal, but now it’s my eagerness that wakes me up early!)

Finally, I heard it – just the hint of a nerfing around sound – and we were able to enjoy snuggle time, smile time , genuine happy, babbling, let’s-bother-daddy time.

And the day began.

The best part of the morning was packing up our gear and heading to our local nursery, Daniel’s Farm. We love Daniel’s. We buy all of our plants there: our herbs, our hanging baskets, and in the wintertime – our Christmas tree. It’s a family run farm with 15 greenhouses and we enjoy the owners, who always work the counter and are generous and willing to put up with me and the lists of odd plants that I bring with me, most usually discovered from garden plots I find in MidWest Living.

Sydney and I went to Daniel’s together. She “rode” in her snazzy front carrier. Sydney is very much into smells and colors these days – so the herb house was awesome fun, and she also proved a great help in selecting the pansies we took home. Hauling our treasures out to the truck, a kind older woman took pity on me with my pull-cart, infant, bag of soil, car seat, full-tray of herbs, diaper bag … etc. Her help put a smile on my face and convinced me yet again that people are often far kinder than we dare to imagine.

We headed home. Sydney napped. I gardened.

The day progressed, one content moment after another; nothing fancy or spectacular, just peaceful, calm and infinitely memorable.

Early evening found us enjoying a family walk at Laurel Park. We stopped and watched a family flying a kite and listened to the laughter of the man and his daughter. We caught up on our feelings, worries, concerns and joys … and when we heard the clang, clang of our younger years, Leon dashed for the truck to find his baggie of spare coins and we hailed the ice cream truck, picked out our familiar favorites (wow, prices have certainly gone up!) and our walk became this awesome combination of new family centeredness combined with yesteryear memories. It was pure bliss – those sticky fingers, I even managed (no surprise here) to drip orange dreamsicle all over my shorts! We laughed our heads off and discussed the finer merits of the modest offerings of the ice cream man (the menu hasn’t changed much in 20 years) and considered what a completely terrific Saturday evening we were having: ourselves, our baby, a beautiful park, our new stroller and the ice cream man.

Talk about enjoying the simple life.

Worry.

Worry.

Worry is a powerful thing.

Anxiety is probably my worst enemy in life. Sure, I worry about things that normal people worry about, but most often, I worry about things I fully recognize I absolutely cannot control, which is more than disturbingly neurotic. I even worry about how much I worry. And this worry seeps into my down time, my resting time, my prayer time, and my commuting time. In fact, just about the only time I am able to shut out worry and anxiety is when I work.

So, I work … a lot.

In college, I would take more courses, read more books, study more hours and write extra papers. As a “grown-up”, I do more emailing, write more strategies, develop more angles to projects already on the docket … etc. etc. etc.

Things always look better in the morning light, and most of my worrying starts at night. So, since it’s 8:38 on a Saturday night, bear with me.

Currently, I have been worrying a great deal about my vocational life. Making the big move from Youth Ministry (a place I loved and a mission about which I was passionate) to my new role at the Publishing House (where – although yes, I have a passion for the mission, I haven’t been working long enough to know if I love it or not) has been a bit of a sleep-depriver for the last three weeks.

But, today, all that worry was well and truly trounced by a new, monster anxiety – for our little Sydney.

Today, Sydney was officially diagnosed with a condition called positional plagiocephaly. In addition to learning to spell plagiocephaly without requiring a spell check – the past few days have been fraught with mind-numbing moments of concern followed by mind buzzing moments where I generate more questions than any Mommy should be allowed to ask. We have come to learn that plagiocephaly is especially common in babies who are born breech (which, as faithful readers know, was very much our reality with Miss Sydney Grace, starting back at 24 weeks of pregnancy and lasting until her surprise early arrival at the end). After x-rays and consultations at Children’s Hospital, we have learned that Sydney’s condition is not the more serious condition, craniosynostosis, that would require surgery, and we have learned that we have an array of treatment options to consider.

We have learned that we are not bad parents (though I am having a really tough time not blaming myself entirely) and that even though we have done tummy time, and repositioned her sleeping positions, etc. etc., this condition is very common given her early birth and her “I like to hang out breech” reality. Overall, we should be (and really are) really thankful. After all, today as I sat there in the radiology department at Children’s, I saw many, many Mommies and Daddies with many more reasons to be worried than our little family.

The thing I am worrying about is this: am I doing the “right” things for Sydney? I work. Is that a good decision? I’m not home to watch her 24-hours each day. I can’t guarantee that her head isn’t turned left too many hours (we have EXCELLENT women watching our precious baby …). Have I spent enough time playing and holding her? Am I to blame? And what if the treatment option we decide to use doesn’t correct the problem? I don’t want to fail her.

That’s the root of it all. I don’t want to fail Sydney. Not now. Not ever.

And the reality, as we all know it, is that I will. Actually, the reality is that I already have. And at some point, the Gretchen-who-hates-to-let-people-down is going to have to get over the fact that she is less than perfect. It’s not that I don’t “get” this. But it’s time to really, really get it, or else I have this sneaking suspicion that I am going to miss a whole lot of genuine, authentic opportunities to be comfortable with being the Mom I Just Am, as opposed to the Mom I Am Obsessed with Trying to Be.

And, maybe I am wrong about this, I think that Mom I Just Am is going to enjoy life a whole, heck of a lot more.

My friend, Lori is forever telling me to give myself some permission to go easy on myself. And you know what, she’s right. If I have any hope of being the “best” kind of Mom for Sydney, I need to whole-heartedly embrace that I am often going to be the worst and – rather than dwelling in that and rolling around in my own absurd and ridiculous pity party – LET IT GO!

So. Depending on what we decide, you all might see some fun photos of our little Miss Syd wearing her super cool new ‘DOCband’ helmet … and I hope that you’ll all cheer along with us as our little bug gets her noggin back in shape. Hers is external; here’s to hoping that Mom gets her internal noggin back in shape right along with her.

Do they make that helmet in the adult size?

Remembrances of Chet and Irene ...

When I was a girl, few things thrilled like a visit from our out-of-town relatives, especially a visit from Grandma and Grandpa Staude. Perhaps it was because it happened so rarely ~ they far preferred staying home on the farm in Saint Joe, MI, and we were more than happy to visit them there. But a few times, usually in the early fall after the grape harvest was complete, Grandma and Grandpa made the drive to Saint Louis to see us. We would be excited for days before their visit. When "the day" would finally arrive, my sister and I were overwhelmed with anticipation! The school day simply crawled by as we grew more and more excited (and pity our poor parents who had to answer again and again, "What time will they be here?!").

Finally, we would be home ~ waiting at the front window, watching ... watching ... and then! we would see them! Now that I am a grown-up, and recognize how strangely tiring it is drive across the country, I simply can't imagine how my grandparents managed to keep pace with us as we hurtled ourselves out of the front door and down the lawn to meet them before they had more than one foot out of the car!

Grandparents coming to visit were a very big deal, indeed!

This weekend, Sydney's Nanny Jameson is here to visit. Watching her tenderly love on and coo over her baby granddaughter, I am coming to understand how my Grandparents found the energy to love on us even after long hours of travel. Her gasp of joy, mingled with just a little wistfulness as she saw her little Sydney (who was taking a nap, of course!) for the first time in 2-months, touched my heart. And Sydney, even as young as she is, seems keenly aware that she has the undivided attention of our house guest. Nanny played and held and fed and rocked and bathed and snuggled with Sydney ~ and she's only been here since 2:30 this afternoon! She came bearing gifts in a suitcase bigger than the MINI and probably wants to stay forever! Sydney is blessed indeed, even only 15-weeks old, to have Nanny come to visit. (Grandad Jameson, we know you are reading this and are here in spirit! Next time!)

I feel thankful that my daughter has the blessing of something I did not have (and isn't that the sort of thing so many of us want for our children?). She has doting grandparents here in town, who are part of her "every day" moments, which is a relationship I never knew. And she also has the blessing of "far away" grandparents, whose special visits become a source of such excitement and "spoiling" and fun that you just can't wait and you never want them to end.

Sydney has both and as hard as it is for Nanny and Grandad Jameson to live so far away, we want them to know that they have a special role in Sydney's life and we love it when they are here!

What a weekend lies ahead!

The Simple Things

Who would ever have thought that a 30-minute excursion to the local market would be cause for much musing and reflection? I certainly never did. However, this week, after almost 4-months of fairly restricted home life, I went to the grocery store. More to the point, I went to the grocery store all by myself. I drove there and everything. The trip, from getting ready to pushing the cart to reading the headlines of gossip mags in line at the checkout to driving there and back, was completely exhilarating. I drank it all in ~ the new location of cilantro in the produce aisle; the new assortment of energy water (a need for Daddy Leon in our house these days since he remains bound and determined not to drink coffee, silly man!); the new “soup of the day” in the deli. For some reason, being able to successfully navigate such a mundane trip, after so many weeks of restrictions on even the most basic functions of life, gave me renewed energy.

Right now, life centers on Sydney’s needs. Her waking, sleeping, eating and … other functions ;-) are a source of great focus. Life is definitely defined anew. It's different and that's okay. In the midst of all this newness, I am also taking a graduate class – Media Law, if you can believe it. So last week found me entirely focused on baby and cramming in a few minutes of writing here and there to complete a paper covering First Amendment case law. This week, it’s a case study on tort law, specifically building a case for a libel suit that proves actual malice. Good stuff. And certainly interesting in between feedings, naps, diapering and tummy time (yes, we attempt just a bit each day already … it’s fun, not so much because Syd is terribly proficient at it yet, but because Bailey gets in on the action and she is fascinated by him!) Oh, and we have become newly addicted to Hannah Montana. Yep. That’s right. Late night wakeful periods at the Jameson Ranch might just find us with the T.V. tuned low to an episode with Billy Ray and all the crazy Hannah gang. … In light of all of this excitement ;-), maybe you can see why a solo-flight to the market was truly inspiring.

I don’t know about any of you, but my life has always been intensely driven. I love pushing my mind and talents and whole self in pursuit of good things, whether those things be experiences on the home front, the work front or just personal, “inside” things. It’s incredible to be experiencing these first few weeks as a new, young family. Leon and I love navigating challenges and this is no exception. We are being pushed in entirely new ways; what an awesome thing.

I love being intentional and reflective during any new experience. When I take the time to sit and “ponder” (to borrow from that most famous of mothers) all that is happening in my life, in our life and even already in Sydney’s life ~ I am so encouraged and inspired. Thus far, and I don’t want to paint too rosy a picture because there have been late night tears (ours included with Sydney’s) and mid-day melt-downs and early morning frustrations; but thus far, the pursuit of this good thing, this family life, this existence that eclipses “just” Leon and I, this new, weird adventure of our household with a baby, this life with Sydney is just the most incredible “thing” we can imagine!

And it’s only been three weeks ….

Wow. There’s plenty of trips to the market to come, plenty of simple life moments in which to revel and we can't wait.

"Hey, Kid! Go play with sticks."

Recently, my parents, our good friends, Doug and Carol, and Leon and I had a conversation about today's overly parented child.

You know the type ~ the poor child whose parent obsesses over every tiny detail; calls the teacher with insane worries and requests; actually watches their high school student's class-by-class attendance online via Power School and calls the teacher immediately if Junior is late to class, demanding an explanation; the early childhood parent more worried about Sally being gently disciplined (because it will most likely damage her fragile sense of emerging self) than by the fact that Sally can't recognize her alphabet letters; Helicopter Parents.

That bane of childhood who have taken all the fun out of growing up: no more home-baked birthday treats (somebody might have a peanut allergy or somebody’s parent might use fatty oils and real sugar); no more bicycles without helmets (though we still have school buses without seatbelts, go figure); no more climbing trees and playing sword fight with sticks or eating dirt or exhausting oneself playing with the neighborhood kids till all hours; no more hopping fences. We want a well-packaged childhood; after all that’s what’s safest for the children (plus, they don’t ruin their baby UGG boots and Ralph Lauren, monogrammed backpacks).

When I look at the rules and regulations of today's pre-middle school set and the obsessive tendencies of parents even on the high school level, I wonder how my generation escaped childhood alive. I mean, for crying out loud, didn't my parents love me?! They let me carry a backpack loaded with books and didn't give me a wheeled suitcase to haul my things! I could be crippled or maimed! Are they going to pay my chiropractic bills? They didn't feed me organic everything ~ I actually ate Mac and Cheese made with (gulp) powdered cheese PRODUCT! I ate cookie dough batter made with (brace yourselves here) RAW EGGS! I could have high cholesterol or worse! Dangerous hoydens.

Lest you think we intend to raise Sydney with no rules or sense of safety ~ let me be clear to say that Leon and I fully own that the world is a "dangerous" place. We also appreciate the opportunity to make smart choices and protect our child in a world that largely feigns deep care for the young, but consistently creates systems that threaten them. (And I do love baby UGG boots … come on, seriously cute!) The point is not to be typically-American and pendulum swing 100% the other direction (I mean, after all we seem to live in a culture that absolutely refuses a moderate position on anything from politics to how I feed my baby) ... The point is, all this perfectionist parenting scares me just a little because I have a tendency to ... (I'm sure this will SHOCK most of you) people-please and push for perfection.

Seriously. The other day Leon and I got into a discussion about which language to introduce Syd to (in addition to English of course) from the start. I don't want a million toys, books and games with 15-different languages, so I want to pick just one. You know: Mandarin is all the rage but Spanish is so practical ... oh dear. Here we go ... Gen X parenting! STOP the madness.

I am slowly developing this theory about my generation as parents; we who graced TIME magazine as the apathetic generation; whose Boomer parents were criticized for leaving us to fend for ourselves as latchkey kids and ATARI addicts (and who, true to form really didn’t care all that much about the criticism). The result is … I think we are truly overcompensating.

You can almost hear the inner mantra: “WE won't raise our kids that way. WE will be involved parents. WE will make SURE people know how completely in tune we are with our child's every need. BE GONE peanut butter; BE GONE getting to know neighbor kids whose parents I don't know (and don't care to walk down the street to get to know ...); BE GONE childhood wildness!”

We'll see how Leon and I do once our little girl is here. Truth is; I was raised to be inventive and imaginative. Super-sized plastic Fischer Price kitchen that (as a friend recently wrote me) is larger than my living room? Who needs it! I loved building a clubhouse (and one very inventive time, a house boat!) out of large moving boxes. Crazy bike-like toy that attaches to my television so that my child can peddle like a mad gerbil in a cage and get some exercise? Go ride your bike outside! (Oh, wait … our neighborhood eschewed sidewalks for larger lawns … )

But maybe Sydney will want these things? Maybe she won't appreciate a mom and dad who tell her to play with sticks? Maybe she won’t want to lick the cake batter bowl because she learned about salmonella at school? Will we be able to provide our child with a sense of old-fashioned play and adventure and risk in a 2008 world of risk management, helmets and home-baking free classrooms?

I think we owe it to her to try ...

Then again ...

Maybe I am just inviting disaster. How does one say, "It's all fun and games ..." in Madarin anyway?

For more on this topic, check out Chris Mercogliano’s new book, In Defense of Childhood: Protecting Kids' Inner Wildness. [Click here] to read an interview.

28 Weeks! Huzzah!

Yesterday, we officialy made it to 28 weeks. [Insert raucous cheers here] This is excellent news. At our follow-up appointment this week, Dr. Keisler stressed the vital importance of the next four weeks. We continue to covet prayers.

We had a chance to ask Sydney for an update. This latest ultrasound photo gives a clear indication that, from Syd's vantage point, "It's all good in here, Mommy and Daddy!" So we are trusting that she's comfy and growing and developing just as she needs to:


We will be seeing the obstetric specialist at St. Joseph's hospital each week for an ultrasound and to be on the monitor to gauge the level of contractions. Every other week, we will additionally visit Dr. Keisler. At this point and time, we could completely go full-term, or Syd could be here tomorrow. It's a lesson in waiting ... a lesson in letting go ... a lesson in simply enjoying each day and relying on God's total provision ... some days we really struggle with those lessons. Other days, we feel unstoppable. We suppose that's natural and are already appreciating how this experience is shaping our marriage and our relationship as we prepare for parenting together.

Now to life on the Homefront here at Hospital Camp ...

Many of you have made veiled [okay, less than veiled in most cases] comments related to Gret's ability to lay low ... remain calm and rested ... it's as if we all think Gret can't sit still.

But she can! And she will, especially once this play is over (that's right, for those who didn't know ~ this week was not only Gret and Leon's first week of modified bed rest life, but also tech week for the fall play at Lutheran High, which Gret is directing ...) Many continued thanks to Gret's parents, who jumped in along with Leon and parents of the students to manage all of the "active" details. Gret literally sits in a big comfy chair at rehearsals and (now) at performance and directs. It's been a new way to direct, but maybe she could get used to this!

The good news is that Gret is able to work from home ~ so watch out Youth Ministry Office because with all this time on her hands she has plenty of energy for new ideas, writing projects, updating, planning, etc. It's rather fun, actually! And with co-workers making time to come visit regularly, not as lonely as one might worry!

Leon continues to excel in creating soup-based dinners, yummy snacks and more. The wonderful Immanuel family is taking care of us as well, which is such a blessing. We are so thankful for our Church. And Gret is allowed to prepare small meals and move in a "low key" sort of way. She led Leon through the steps of making her infamous chocolate chip cookies yesterday afternoon, which was fun and broke up the "supine time" Gret needs to do each day.

Every day that goes by is a good thing. And honestly, it's rather exciting to think that Syd could be here "any time." We know that's true of any pregnancy, but there is something about having the doctor quite literally say, "we just don't know" that is slightly nerve-wracking. Our prayer is simply that whenever Sydney arrives, she is healthy, happy and hale.

We're sure life here at Hospital Camp will get a little dicey ;-) We'll keep you posted. And the door, phone line and Web access is always open to you! We love hearing from friends and family!

Home Improvement ~ Jameson Style

I am not handy.

Leon is handy.

Working together, we have started remodeling our "old office" and turning it into a brilliant baby space for Sydney! It's an adventure.

Here is the opening progress ...

I was inspired by photos in my Pottery Barn kids magazines, which means that I needed Leon to do more than paint (and for those of you who know us well, you know Leon brings new meaning to the idea of being fastidious). We decided to add wainscoting to two walls, add trim around the windows, upgrade the lighting and paint. Armed with visions of the room, we headed off for the local Home Depot to begin our work.

The paint department was no problem. Leon being expert at paint; he made sure we selected a satin finish kitchen and bath quality paint so that we can keep it all really clean ... I have a feeling Leon and clean and Sydney and clean may mean two different things ... but we shall see!

Then, we headed for the lumber department, where a Dad of one of Leon's youth works. He connected us with an expert and we were set to select wainscoting, trim, chair rails, filials (see ~ we now know what rosette filials are!) liquid nails, etc. etc. etc.

And of course, we needed a miter saw to accomplish all of this. Leon detoured to the tools and we took advantage of Labor Day sales and added a really manly, really cool big ol' saw to the cart. After a few hours, we headed home.

With great enthusiasm, we started projecting. Thankfully, Leon is more patient and prescribed than I am, and so our efforts really paid off. I am too eager and would just as soon slap it all together (and then would, of course, be super bummed because the end result didn't match the vision in my mind). Leon keeps us focused ~ almost painfully precise! I mean, he makes us wait DAYS for paint to dry before we add the second color, etc. ARGH! But worth it!

And, I got to work the saw! I felt totally like one of those cool chicks on Extreme Home MakeOver!

This weekend we are picking up the nursery furniture and adding the pink color to the walls. Yeah! Then, as MeeMaw (HAHAHA, MOM!) Staude shared this morning, the real fun starts as we pick out wall hangings and rugs and dress the room. Of course, I am not really allowed to hang those items either ... I have sort of a problem producing anything but extremely large holes in the wall when I try to wield a tool ... ah well!

What a Dining Room Table Means to Me - An Essay by Gretchen

We have been married nine years this June. In that time, we have been burdened with a fantastic quest; in truth in recent years, the quest seemed rather endless and we really despaired of ever seeing it through.

What was this Holy Grail of ours?

To find the perfect dining room table.

Not something that would "pass" or with which we could just "make do" until, magically like manna from the sky I suppose, some other table would drop in front of us ~ but a table that was at once perfect and useable, upscale and family friendly, modern and traditional ... something we want until we are 95, something that our kids can crayon all over and our family can gather around for holidays and feasts and Tuesday night soup. The kind of table that makes you want to sit a little longer; drink another glass of wine, and never, ever say "Let's go sit on comfortable chairs, eh?"

We found it. And on Saturday it was delivered.

A dining room table (and of course matching buffet, hutch, arm chairs, etc.) is one of those pieces of furniture that can make you feel pretty elderly. Truthfully. We danced around the living room singing, "We're so old!"

I mean really, the things are so solid ~ and you never really get rid of a great dining room table. Like family at the holidays, it's there to stay and its residence can be obnoxious or endearing and beloved.

We think we've got a winner.

Now, this is not to suggest that we have eaten on the floor or at a card table for nine years. The table we have used lo' these many years belonged to the Grandmother of Jack Fish. And it has a story that illustrates the point; if a table can set a bar - Grandma Fish's table came with an excellent pedigree ~ our new table has much to live up to.

I taught with Jack at Milwaukee Lutheran. He was in his late forties when he decided to return to Seminary, and he and his wonderful wife packed up their home and headed for a small apartment in St. Louis. Grandma's table went to a pair of newlyweds (along with the Fish's washer/dryer) and the Fish's went on to a new life. We were so thrilled. It came with chairs and everything. It was enormous and in need of refinishing (who has time, I cried ~ let's paint it to match our funky earthy dining room!) and the chairs were in quite a state. But it's served us well.

I love Grandma's table. I never knew this woman, but having gathered around her family table for nines years I feel a bit of an affinity towards her. And really ~ what a table. For starters, it is absolutely enormous. It has this fantastic leaf that actually folds right into the table (a neat trick our new table doesn't do ~ and we now have a leaf in our front closet). The pedestal underneath is large enough for a toddler to sit on comfortably (and most of you know this is important because there is nothing quite as cool as a fort under a solid, fortress like dining table). There's a story with this table, it has a sense of history. Apparantly, Grandma wasn't this table's first owner, either. And the insane thing is, the table doesn't shimmy or shake, it's as solid as the day it was constructed. Amazing.

I wanted a new table that was as enduring as Grandma Fish's table. I want a table that has potential to have a story.

And now we have one. And it's extremely exciting.

I suppose this makes me ancient, or just really, really odd. Getting all jazzed about a dining room set (well, that and I just voluntarily used the word "jazzed") but it's so much bigger than a table. It's about permanence and family ties and communal times to come.

So, we'll get back with you in a few years to let you know how she's holding up. In the meantime, I'm headed for the crayons ...

A New Year for Us ...

It's the New Year. I guess we don't often post to our blog because we don't have tons of photos or exciting elements to share ;-)

I can say that when the clock struck midnight, I took a deep breath and rather "plunged" into the year. It's the year of the Gathering (which sounds like some odd zodiac sign or something). In 2004, the Gathering consumed life. And while I have a feeling that the same will happen in 2007, my hope is that it doesn't consume "me" as much as it consumes my time.

[Gret in Norway - at the site of The Scream painting!]

As ever, we are looking forward to a new year. More than that, we are hopeful that this year will bring some serious changes to our family life. How many more Christmas letters will we have to write with the same topics - Gret: work, travel, directing, etc. and Leon: church, youth group, tennis, etc. We really hope that this is THE year for kids - we'll see!

I don't really know that anyone is reading this post ;-) But we pray God's blessings on you if you are. Enjoy your evening!