zip zip zip ho ho ho

That's a dumb name. I know . . . you don't have to tell me.

We've moved.

From Wichita to Chanute Kansas.

I know . . . you've never heard of it and don't know where it is. You are uncultured and ignorant. You've not visited the world famous Safari Museum. You don't know the story of the 3 men who conspired to move their families and communities into one so the train would make a stop here. You are unaware of the 7600 people that live in this bustling metropolis.

I will not record my initial response to the proposal of living here. Well . . . yes I will. (My husband says I overuse the 3 dots. I might start believing him if I don't knock it off). After the initial blow up argument, when my husband incorrectly assumed I was overreacting, he said, "let's be rational and list out our pros and cons for living in Chanute."

My eyebrows reached to my hairline as I stared at him in disbelief. "You want to know the single thing on my pros list? IT's NOT HELL."

Two things real quick. Don't stop reading if you live in Chanute and are a new friend of mine. 1. My heart has changed very much about this place. 2. I can see now, that it's possible I may have been overreacting.

:)

Anyway, I realize my blogging is far behind. I have written two lovely posts since my last one here, however, I accidentally recorded them onto the wrong blog that I DON'T use and cannot for the life of me figure out how to switch it over to here. I was very upset about this.

Here's the explanation of the title. We've moved and our property has 9 acres of not very flat and not very open land. Lots of trees, and hills and two ponds. Except one might not be on our property because there is no indication of where one property ends and the other begins. There is a zip line over one of our ponds. The one we know is ours. You would think that the winter would be a bad time to test it out. You would especially think the winter would be a bad time to let your 3 year old son test it out, but my husband would disagree. During the initial testing of small children, Warrick did get stuck hanging before he reached the far side, but he was carefully strapped into a Little Tikes blue swing - the ones with the yellow straps and the red deal that comes up between their legs. I'm sure this is not how Little Tikes intended their infant swing to be used. BUT, carribiners (caribeaners, kara bean hers. I don't know how to spell this.) are fabulous inventions and I actually felt more or less okay about letting Warrick do this. Don't turn me in to SRS. You were not there and did not witness the safety precautions.

And if that's not over the top, tonight my cousin Lisa and family came by. It was well after dark, but Brett managed to drive his beater truck down into the woods so the headlights shone the length of the zip line. And, you guessed it - the big boys all rode it across while all the little kids sat in the truck wondering if the other members of their family would be riding home with them.

So far, human beings and buckets ranging from 25 to 250 lbs have all safely travelled from one side to the other.

You are welcome to come visit Chanute and try it for yourself.

And the ho ho ho. We hosted a holiday gathering for the first time and it was simply splendid. However, I will say that I just think I might not love turkey however it is prepared. I think too much about animals walking around making noises and then about gnawing their muscle tissue and I kind of get grossed out. So . . . if we have to season and prepare meat with such painstaking care in order for it to taste remarkable, maybe we should just eat things that taste yummy without all the hoopla? Like broccoli and grapefruit and chocolate (dark, of course). These are yummy in their own rite and don't need any prodding to be convincing. My opinion, obviously.

Back to Christmas - I am grateful for the family I married into and enjoy their laughing and silliness and willingness to be helpful and serve each other. I feel ever so lucky and sincerely enjoy their company.

I like the family I was born into too. That I can have heart to hearts with my brother about Jesus and how He changes people - especially us. That my sister and family have left everything familiar to give hope and tangible help to the poor in India. That my parents are so skilled at making people feel special and cared for - to the extent that they will travel to India right after Christmas in order to celebrate His amazingly humble birth with my sister and family.

And now, in closing . . . I do need the 3 dots. The dash isn't a proper substitute. It makes me feel rushed.

Inspiring the drag queen

I know . . . . weird post title, but it's true.

I mentioned before that I had the supreme privilege of getting my sister to myself (sort-of) for three days. I had a weekend road trip with her during her one week stay in the States, to the lovely town of Fayetteville. Oh, that I could live there someday and hike and bike and like like like. Anyway, on Monday morning Mel had 3 meetings starting at 6:30am. ( I was still asleep . . . but please, let me tell you this one mortifying detail. AJ and Sarah - dear friends and super easy to be with - let Mel and I stay in their house. They gave me the master bedroom with my little Vera. They slept in their son's room. Sons's. they have 3. Seriously . . . so nice. In an effort to keep my daughter from waking the whole house, I nursed her at some odd hour and she still wouldn't keep quiet so I cuddled with her and we both fell back to sleep. When I DID wake in the morning, I realized I had forgotten to cover the milk source. The door was open enough that someone passing would have seen much more than they wanted. Oops.)

Back to Monday morning. I, instead, had one lovely long meeting with my dear old friend Erin. We went to little Bread Company, I think it's called. Also one of my sister's favorites. As I was getting out of the car, this unusually thin, swanky man, with a long cigarette between his spindly fingers and a very very serious swagger says, (and forgive me, but you have to read this with your best gay man voice), "Oh my, sister. LOVE the hair. WORK IT GIRL!" Reminder. I'm not at a bar, it's 9:30 am on Monday morning and I'm with my friend and small children at a bakery.

Moments later, when little ones are in hand, he loudly says this as he squares up to us in the middle of the street, "You've inspired me. Tonight, I'm going to be YOU." I wait for the explanation. " I'm a drag queen. You know what a drag queen is?" I smile, he continues. "I have all sorts of wigs. REAL hair. I get them at this place up north of town." He gestures with his whole skinny self. "You ever been there?" Do I look like I need a wig? At one point in my life, my hair was the widest part of me. "Anyway, tonight I'm going to be you. I have a BIG wig that looks just like your hair . . . . " etc... etc.... "21 inch waste, working real hard on it." etc..... etc..... something about silicone injections. Lord thank you that my child doesn't understand that kind of English. I didn't know about all this stuff until college.

Anyway. An unusual encounter. Noteworthy. He also thanked both of us for loving our kids cause he lost his mom when he was 6. I was sad for him. And thankful for my hair at the same time.

Another shorter noteworthy incident. I nearly seriously injured myself last night trying to rescue a baby bunny from my mother-in-law's cat. I have no idea what possessed me, but I was unwilling to watch it, or to let my son watch "Mookie" eat this sweet baby bunny. I literally was tackling and diving all over the yard and yelling with fury at this animal. You would have thought it was trying to eat MY baby. I didn't rescue it the first round. Warrick started screaming crying out of fear. Probably because he'd never seen me move like that. I almost started crying. My sister-in-law, Val, also never having seen me move like that, probably thought it was the most ridiculous display of violence . . . . maybe it was.

BUT, I did make the rescue and took the bunny, after several little pets from Warrick and Whitley, to a more remote part of the neighborhood and let him go. Definitely had some surface wounds, but all four tiny legs were definitely hopping strong.

Okay . . . . last thing. I mentioned this before on Facebook, but someone told me to document it a little more permanently. I guess that's what this is . . . .

Warrick and I are in the baby food aisle at the grocery store and I'm counting 6 carrots and 6 green beans and so on (I made all Warrick's food. Sorry Vera) For whatever reason, I thought it logical to let Warrick get out of the cart and "walk". Really??? Brilliant, Bets.

Up ahead, Warrick and I see, at the same time, some downed items in the middle of the aisle. He goes to inspect and I wait and watch. For the record, moms with boys, never say to your son when you clearly visualize what he will do next, "Warrick, don't kick the maxi pad packages." Also for the record, I DID NOT say this before he actually did it. I have a vivid imagination and don't need to pass on all of my great ideas to my children. Unfortunately, they can think up enough silly things on their own. Bless 'em.

So, one kick. Giggles and turning to look at me. "You saw that I did, Mom?" "Don't do that again, son." I'm getting up, but not fast enough to prevent the second kick . . . . .. or the third. All the while coaxing him unsuccessfully to obey. I was kind of laughing until I realized he was actually going to kick it into the highly trafficked area right in front of the check out lanes. Which of course, he did, effortlessly landing it right in front of an employee coming in from break, looking the other way, and then nearly tripping on the maxi pad package. Quizzically looking at the package, then the child, then the mother who cannot hide her smile.

It's funny, right? You can't control your kids half the time either, so . . . . lighten up. . . .

And the pictures.

4 days later

Our lives have been so so so very full in the last month. Brett graduated from P.A. school from Wichita State. (With the highest academic/clinical performance honor of his class, I will add). Vera turned one (but still barely weighs more than Warrick did at 3 months . . . . little squirm). We threw a big big party at our house - close to 50 people came - neighbors, friends from church, old friends. It was super. I made really super cute cake balls (which we also ate at my mom's retirement party).

But there are some difficult things too. We moved away from a town that, honestly, kind of surprisingly stole my heart. We lived in Riverside, 5 doors from the park and the Arkansas River, one door south from a housemate that LOVED my son (and kept buying him loud firetrucks) and grew to become a good friend, who was over-the-top gracious about our noise level at odd hours (note above firetrucks . . . obviously not the sole noise maker . . . enter two small but vocal children). We lived across the street from some music loving, hippy-ish fun friends who also had small children and a rockin' trampoline in the back. We lived 4 blocks from the Wichita Art Museum (don't ask me if I went, and don't ask me if I used to be an art teacher). We lived super close to Exploration place, the Keeper of the Plains, Botanica, Riverside Park, The Riverside Perk (fun little cafe and music venue). We lived a stone's throw from the finish line of the regatta's that Wichita State hosted several times a year and could see rowers on the water almost daily during the warmer months. We had the world's best YMCA's. Seriously. Imagine LifeTime Fitness without being pretentious, expensive or meat market-ish. An incredible place for families to be active. I LOVED my YMCA. And, truthfully, it was often the only time I had during the week to get help with my kids (except in the evenings from my wonderful husband).

So, yeah . . . . I already miss it.

But here's where I was originally going with this post. Last Thursday we were scheduled to move to Joplin MO, where Brett would do his final rotation before starting his job in CHanute. We paid the last week's rent for the college girls who were in our apt, so they would move out a week early. Saturday and Sunday, the 21st and 22nd. Now . . . we all know what horrible event took place in Joplin last Sunday. Unbelievable. After watching footage and then hearing that the tornado touched down at 20th and Connecticut, we realized that this might actually affect our future a little. Certainly not at all like those who lost family and friends and home in such a brutal, undignified finish, but I think because we were to move there, we felt a little more of an investment in it.

We confirmed on Tuesday that our apt. had in fact been completely obliterated. My conversation with the office manager was sobering, heavy, surreal. Watching her tenants carry their dead children out of the rubbish. Hearing stories of other children being sucked out windows. Climbing through precarious ruins in search of emergency contacts in an effort to locate her tenants . . . were they with family? Hopefully? Nightmarish walks into the unrecognizable neighborhood to see the dead strewn about like trash in the parking lot. How horrible. We cried and prayed together, and I could tell from her response that she knew Jesus. I'm so glad she does . . . what hope would you have if you didn't have Jesus?

At week's end, we are settled generously and comfortably in Brett's mom's house in Independence KS. She has cleared the entire upstairs so we can live with her for the summer, with closets and drawers and a king sized bed and two full bathrooms. Things we've never had as a family. A dish washer! A huge backyard! A wonderful pool and park and zoo across the street. Access to a health and fitness facility. And on and on. So grateful. So very very grateful that the Lord chose to spare us from the tragedy that Joplin is still enduring.

Anyway, that's us up to date. Didn't even get into how cute our kids are right now. Or how Vera chipped 3 of her 6 teeth in Fayetteville on AJ and Sarah's bathtub. Or my mom's retirement party. OR MY SISTER GETTING TO COME HOME FOR A WEEK!!!!!!!!! Hallelujah. That was amazing. We got our noses pierced together and got to spend serious quality time during our weekend trip to Fayetteville. I love her. It's pretty incredible to have her for my sister - for her challenging life to make me re-evaluate. Her easy laugh, her generosity, her goofiness that just won't go away, darnit!... her loving my kids, her support and interest in my life and in the things that matter most. Being known well and still loved well. What a gift....... I am honored. And then getting to see my dear old friend Erin. Another one who knows me well and still loves me well. A woman about to give birth to her 3rd son. Wowee.

So, four days later, was when we were to move to Joplin. I realize that isn't really a close call, compared to the people who crawled out from under their flattened and torn homes to realize
if nothing else, they still had LIFE. That's close calling. But still . . . . makes me grateful.

Clay Center visual

"Well hello there! You wanna be my friend too?" Dinosaur Emu. I actually saw one in the wild when we lived in AU You wouldn't believe how challenging it was to get him to stand under the sign and look at me. Love my daddy Teresa let us come by and look at her animals And the cool old dam, no longer used. What a rockin' building. leftover panera sandwiches from drug rep. picnic in a tunnel us Daddy's workout

the girls

weekend getaway

We've never stayed in a hotel room as a family. With kids, I mean. I've heard it can be really tricky and I'm sure those parents are no liars. It's tricky sometimes to get our whole family to sleep in our own cozy little beds. So . . . . here's the closest thing to us staying in a hotel. Brett's doing a 4 week rotation in Clay Center ks. We went out for a visit this past weekend and had a grand old time there. Just for the record, there are 4500 people residing in the sweet little town. No McDonalds . . . not that I frequent the place, but hotcakes did sound better than the nutrient void breakfast I got at Sonic. What a bad decision. Anyway, here's the skinny on our funny sleeping situation. The student apt. is located at the back corner of a partially finished basement under the hospital. That alone is funny to me. One minute, you are in the clinic . . . unlock a door and go down lots and lots of concrete stairs and you meet . . . Some kind lisping lady in a cage surrounded by taller than normal shelves full of colorful files and files and files. And I'm serious. It was a cage. Studded for sheetrock and then instead, covered with chicken wire stuff. Smaller squares though. Small enough holes for Warrick to get his finger stuck in and cry about it. Then to top off the weird cage file lady . . . they had hung small stuffed animals all over the chicken wire. So odd. And ironic. The animals are on the outside and kind lisping lady is inside. Raw cement floors, ceiling, walls and fluorescent lights. So, one minute you're in the clinic and the next you're stuck in a weirdo movie. I thought it would be unfortunate to work in these conditions, but, of course, there are worse things. Pass through the "lunchroom", complete with brainstorming posters about creating a better workplace and lots of leftover good food from the drug reps (thank you kindly for the free panera and pizza hut pasta) and we come to Brett's apt. door. Inside, looks like a mostly regular hotel room but with hodge podge towels and sheets that some one, no doubt, kindly donated. Furnished with small fridge, sink with disposal and microwave. One very nice feature was the small room shelved full of insurance claims to Blue Cross Blue Shield and every other insurance company, and oxygen masks or something I'm not familiar with. In our case,this small room was the nursery. Vera slept like a queen in her pack and play in this little room smelling of paper and envelope sticky. Perfect. It was on the other side of the bathroom. With the exhaust fan going, we were set. Warrick slept comfortably on a blow up mattress (don't tell me kids aren't supposed to sleep on them, I already know.) Here's another funny thing. You open the "closet" door of your "hotel" to find the secret land of record keepers. SHOCKING. One is always alarmed to find another human in their closet, but here are 5 more kind ladies, none of these lisping, but all working away in the little basement office room you thought was your closet. The records team. With quick access to your hotel room. Awkward. Awkward. Awkward. Try to stop your 2 1/2 year old from opening that door when you're changing clothes . . . since of course, he's made friends with these lovely women and they all think he's charming. But am I charming in my underwear? I guess it depends on who you are. And yet, another funny thing. What do you do when you are on vacation and the weather is worse than expected and your husband is working away and you have no where to go, but to play in a hospital basement? You bring matchbox cars, for one. You utilize your resources and unload the "lunchroom" drawers of their utensils and make up games with them, you push your son around on a wheely office chair. And then you let him push you. And then he pushes you so fast that you break the chair. Oops. Well . . . Brett pulled a wheel from another broken one and fixed it anyway. Then you drive to the grocery store in town, then to the John Deere and tour the machinery. We actually went the night prior when Brett was with us and climbed up into several large something or others. Sprayers, combines, big big somethings. I'm sorry, I'm not entirely ignorant about farm equipment, but mostly. And get this, the keys were in one of them. But we opted not to drive it around. Very tempting though . . . . very tempting. Utility park is a really lovely place. The Pipeliner's Wives, whoever you may be, chose a wonderful community service project by repainting the park swings and merri-go-round, everything parkish, by the way. Beautiful. Utility park also is home to the Clay Center Zoo. Interpretation: Cement and chain link cages housing wild animals smelling of urine. Now, while this sounds incredibly negative (it would be, if you were made to run in grass and climb trees and interact violently with other animals). But the positive side, is that you get to view very wild animals up very close and very personal. Arctic foxes. Deer. A bizarre assortment of birds. Wolves. Bunnies. Emu, which make the weirdest dinosaur noises, if you didn't already know. A black bear. Tiny twin goats that made friends with Warrick and let him pet them for a long time. And the highlight . . . . the monkeys. They entertained us well, and even inspired Warrick to climb fences. But, here was the grown up funny highlight. The guy that feeds the animals in the morning says, "Yeah, the mommy is the mommy of the daddy, and the daddy got one of his babies pregnant. So, we're a little worried about what this one's gonna look like - maybe five legs or some kind of deformity. " Draw that family tree. I guess it's funny, but kind of sad and gross too. So . . . a funny substitute for a vacation, but Brett and I both agreed that it was memorable and that the people of Clay Center, with great consistency are very kind and generous of spirit.

tonight

Don't tell me I'm pathetic. I already know. It doesn't matter. But . . . whatever. Here I am again.

I was reading one of my old posts tonight and realized there are some precious and funny memories I need to record before they vanish from my hazy mind.

We have become quite good friends with some neighbors, Kent and Tiffany. Our children adore them, particularly Warrick, as he is of age to really communicate and connect with people. Recently, they were over in the evening and Kent was relaxing and icing his knee, I believe, when Warrick began the go to bed routine with Mr. Kent. Piling pillows and quietly referring to him as "Kenty", he imitated what Brett does for him every night. He tucked him in and Kent played the part so very well as he lay on the heaps of pillows, two of them were pillow pet lady bugs. But then things took an interesting turn. First, Warrick carefully placed a plastic praying mantis on Kent's chest, "Here you go Kenty." So quietly, so sweetly. Then a felt pancake from their kitchen set, then he gently placed a tiger puzzle piece on Kent's forehead (all the while Kent's eyes are closed as he is sleeping for Warrick) and moved in so very close to Kent's face.

"You're a tiger." He whispers. His nose an inch from Kent's. "You're a tiger. You're a tiger." over and over and over.

It's funny as it is, but when Kent is thinking that W is just doing the nighttime routine, imitating what Brett does, he's begun to wonder now if we're subliminally training our child to become some fighting animal. We laughed really really hard.

We're in the process of keeping heads above water. Barely . . . anyone with 2 children under 3 would understand, I would think. But we really like our kids, and we still like each other. Brett will finish school in a few short weeks and we'll begin the transition again . . . . starting over, again . . . making new friends, finding a good church, getting our bearings, grieving over what's left behind . . . again. It's hard.

And it's harder still when you're not exactly excited about where you're headed. Mostly because it's not what you originally imagined, but also because we like what we know and I don't know this new town. So . . . I have lots of days where I need to vent and be upset and then try to get some perspective and correct my attitude.

I'll try to get some pictures up soon. My daughter is turning into a beautiful, sweet little thing. And her brother is still a chatty, sturdy, silly and emotional charmer. Still doesn't know a stranger. Still doesn't understand being quiet. "LOUD MUSIC MOMMA!" It's been so precious to watch them love each other and make each other laugh. "hold her momma" while Vera giggles and tries to grab whatever she can get her hands on of him.

And my husband . . . don't even get me started. He's incredibly helpful, an expert on our son, so supportive of my endeavors, so level and steady, such a hard worker and so kind and careful with his words. Even though the dishes aren't altogether "clean" per se, after he's done the dishes, he still does help sometimes. He's brilliant and is excelling in school. He wakes up at 5:30 in the morning so he can study for at least an hour before anyone else is awake, and so he can spend time with us in the evening. And he's really nice to me and he still likes me, even though I'm tired a lot of the time and stressed because our lives are so full and unsettled right now. I'm really proud of him, and so lucky to have him.

That's all I've got right now. Should be in the shower or packing or asleep. But will try to be here more.

2 quick dumb funny things

1. I wrote about this on my facebook status. Do not try to flick dog poop out of your yard and into the street with a stick while your trunk (however far away) is open and full of groceries. You may have to spend some time searching through the bags to find the flying poop that came from a dog that IS NOT YOURS. Thank you neighbors and neighbor's dog. Please note, NEIGHBORS, that dog poop in yards with small children's toys will get poked, while said small child says, "Poop! Don't touch it. Yucky." Still poking it. Grrrrrrrr.

2. Do not try to multi-task and put your hoodie on while you are walking at the YMCA. The probability of you running into a stranger while your head is still in the sweatshirt as you round a blind corner are very high. (Seriously . . . did I really do this today? I did. I have no idea what the other guy's excuse was. But ironically it was the same guy who nervously introduced himself to us at church last Sunday. I don't know if he remembered me from Sunday, but he will now.)

Just a couple of helpful life tips. Since I'm so successful at it. :)

Now

Now we are in 2011. Now we are all having trouble with sleeping at night. Now our fingers are splitting and our lips are peeling and our noses are boogering with 1930-our-house-is-too-old-to-have-humidity-when-it's-cold-outside. Now, for the first time in 7 months, Brett and I are the only two people attempting to sleep at night in our room. Our own room. Now, we are recovering from travelling and amazing Christmas and a New Year's Eve that ended at 10 pm. (We did a countdown at 8:15, probably with some strays somewhere in the Atlantic).

Now we wait, to see where we will live starting in June. Now, after all the hustle and hugs and food and friends of Christmastime, we settle back in and actually attempt this skill, this discipline that once came so easily . . . this thing called REFLECTION.

My cousin Mark, so dear to me, mentioned today that he kept up with us via the blog. And his sweet wife, Christine (any woman who has 4 young sons and still laughs easily and sparkles when she tells stories is of heroic sorts) reminded me that my last post was sometime in November.

So . . . even though I did not even intend to write tonight, here is what I've been reflecting about. Not deeply and not conclusively and still scattered, but . . . whatever.

1. What do I feel I did well this past year?
2. What was I ridiculously horrible about?
3. How do I need to change?
4. How am I going to do it?
5. Who am I going to employ for help as I attempt to change?

One area I am going to try to grow in, with God's sweet and gracious help, is self-control. I do not have heaping measures of it, but my magnificent husband does . . . so I am daily reminded, as he, for the 700+ day in a row abstains from eating sweet things, that I am lacking in my ability to regulate myself in the "say-no-and-walk-away".

Some other qualities I've been chewing on.
TRUST
SURRENDER
We sang "It is well with my soul" this morning at church. Acapella. It wrecked me. Lord get me there, to a place where I can say this if You choose for us to live in a town I would never choose to live in. Lord, please teach me to release my life, my expectations, my fears and to enjoy Your direction in my life, because I haven't been and it's sort of miserable.

Mark asked if I have some good days, after getting most of the information about our family from the blog. I laughed and said, "yes. If I had the guts to write about it, it means that I laughed about it even then. All tongue in cheek and for my entertainment and yours if you're reading."

So, yes, I have lots of good days but so much need more of Jesus. Need more trusting of Him. More enjoying Him. Less weird expectations of myself. Less dishes and laundry. :) Anyone? I'll pay you.

Happy New Year. Joyful New Year. Trusting New Year. Growing New Year. Restful New Year to you.