Girl Talk

Our Hollywood Baby with her Nana on Christmas Eve.

From the moment I wanted children, I wanted a daughter. In fact, you could even say that I didn't particularly want children. I just wanted a daughter. I wanted the cute pink ballerina skirts, the giggles, the baking, and (yes) the shopping. I wanted tea parties and secrets. Finger painting in nothing but tights and warm summer softball games complete with the wind-up pitch.

But, let's face it, there are definitely aspects of parenting a daughter that parents of sons probably don't worry so much about. I suddenly find myself taking the time to read articles with such titles as "Kids Who Won't Eat." Did you know that the typical onset age of anorexia is now 9 years old? Or that the Eating Disorders Specialists of Illinois treat patients as young as 6?

The authors seem to think the nation's battle against obesity is to blame for the progressively younger patients suffering from eating disorders. Kids apparently sit through grade-school-level nutrition classes and start thinking food is bad. Never mind the fact that this article appeared in the very same issue as the article titled, "Get Your Pre-Baby Body Back."

Meanwhile, teenage pregnancies are also on the rise. Apparently, this is good old George W's fault. Not that he's traveling the country in a malicious scheme to knock up 13 year olds. No. Definitely not that. But he got some hair-brained idea that maybe instead of handing out condoms to 13 year olds we should advise them away from sex altogether. Of course this is insane. Where does he think he lives? This is 21st century America. Nobody even knows what self control and strong parenting even are. Hasn't he seen that new reality show "Teen Moms?" Doesn't he know what he's caused? All he has to do is look at magazine covers in the check-out line to see all those celebrity teen moms whose lives he's ruined. Unfortunately, I don't know which president to blame for those insidious nutrition classes that have led to 6 year old girls starving themselves.

And bullying. This is one parents of sons may be more interested in. We all know bullying has reached remarkable heights of cruelty. Some people blame the Internet for this one. Kids can't just go home to escape bullies because--guess what?--bullies are waiting for them online. And, of course, the Internet means that a public disgrace is just that much more public. A little less than a year ago I was reading Cosmo (don't get me started--it's a long story involving the mid-subscription end of a nice interior decorating magazine and Conde Nast's remarkably poor judgment in finding a "replacement" subscription) and stumbled onto an article discussing online "smack talk" sites. Cosmo had the good sense to condemn such sites and the people who contribute to them. Cosmo also had the hypocrisy to include their very own "Do's and Don'ts" section making fun of women's fashion sense. As if those black bars across the eyes will keep anyone from recognizing themselves. And just the other day, I decided to check out a website I'd been hearing about--People of WalMart. Big mistake. Rather than enjoying any part of that experience, I ended up crying for the poor people being made fun of: drag queens and hairy obese men in overalls and girls stuffed into too-short shorts. Maybe they shouldn't be dressed like that but we definitely shouldn't be saying some of the things I read on that site.

Bottom line: blame the nutritionists for your child's anorexia, blame George W for your daughter's teenage pregnancy, and blame the anonymous Internet (but not anyone you know who reads it) for any mean, bully-ish tendencies your child may develop.

So This Is Christmas

This is the first year Craig and I haven't made it back to Middle America to celebrate Christmas with snow, family, and starry skies. We've always gone back. Even on years when we couldn't really afford to and probably shouldn't have. The thought of staying put and celebrating Christmas on the beach with sun and sand and palm trees used to make me cry.

This year was different. We told family a year ago that we wouldn't be coming back for this Christmas, and I was prepared to be sad and lonely when the day finally arrived. Praise God I wasn't at all. Yes, I missed seeing Great Grandpa Joe dressed in a reindeer hat. Yes, I missed the snow (kind of). Yes, I missed playing Christmas carols with my li'l sis. But Christmas came as it always does, and even though the whole holiday snuck up on me and I never made any Christmas cookies and did a pathetic job with cards, it still felt like Christmas. Craig's parents flew out to be with us, and Evelyn had fun tearing into everyone's packages, and close friends came over for the traditional fondue brunch, and new friends from Italy and Lubbock, Texas showed up, and I baked a pie and spent more time in the kitchen on Christmas than I've ever had to before in my life. We drove around to look at Christmas lights and we went to a musical Christmas Eve service. We played group party games and took Evelyn to the park. We shopped and ate and slept. And we loved the sun and sand and palms.

The whole season this year made me think about Christmas in a new way. I thought of a speaker I'd recently heard describe the first Christmas all her children were grown up and out of state for the holiday. I remembered how she said she and her husband went out to dinner Christmas Eve and had to leave early because all she could do was weep. I thought of all my family I was missing. I realized that the year may come when I don't even have Evelyn or Craig with me to celebrate. And I thought how--despite what the world may tell you--Christmas isn't really about family at all. It's a time to be with family, yes. But Christmas is about Christ. And you can always have Him, no matter where you are.

What We're Thankful For

I procrastinate. I'm a procrastinator. Us procrastinators tend to think that procrastinating is something we'll grow out of. That somehow...someday...we'll magically stop procrastinating. But--in the meantime--we procrastinate.

Scheduling Evelyn's baby dedication at church was no different. Being a parent doesn't make you more responsible. It just makes you more behind on doing responsible things. I waited so long to schedule her dedication that when I told my friends the date (the Saturday night service, Nov 20) I found out Evelyn's betrothed, Baby Liam, was getting dedicated the day after Evelyn's dedication (the Sunday morning service, Nov 21).

There was some momentary panic. I nearly called the church back and rescheduled. I had visions of a baby dedication service that none of our friends or family attended. I cried and told Craig how I hated it here in Southern California. I pointed to a featured city article in one of my new magazines--I showed him how it featured the family-friendliness of Kansas City. 

And Craig lovingly reminded me that a baby's dedication service isn't about being the center of attention. That it doesn't matter if none of our close friends or family witness it. That the only thing that does matter is that the Lord sees us.

So last weekend, at the Saturday night service, we formally dedicated our baby bird to the Lord in front of the church. And guess what? A LOT of our friends out here made a point of rearranging their weekend schedules to come to church Saturday night in order to be there. Even Baby Liam and his parents came. And guess what else? Rather than having our whole troop clomp back to church the next morning, our senior pastor allowed us to do a never-before-done DUAL baby dedication. So Baby Evelyn and Baby Liam and their parents went up front together and prayed together over our babies.

It was a beautiful, blessed, and sacred night in our lives. Not only did I tell God I trusted Him and depended on Him to raise my daughter, but He told me that no matter where I am, I will never be alone. Not only will He be with me, but He will give me the friends and "family" that I so desperately need.

A few days later, some "real" family flew out (my parents) and we were able to celebrate Thanksgiving with some of those family-like friends. We didn't do the whole "what are you thankful for" thing, but we didn't have to. I'm thankful for them. For each and every single person who sat at that table with me (and for all those who would have liked to!).

I love all of you. Thank you for being my family--whether or not we're related "by blood!"

"Finger" Foods

When Evelyn was just a few weeks old, I remember a mother with an older baby exclaiming, "I'd forgotten how little my baby used to be!" I remember thinking that I didn't really believe her. How could anyone forget how tiny their newborn is? How could anyone think that mother's 16 lb "monster baby" was small?

Well, Evelyn's reached that point. Just last night, I saw a 6 week old at church and couldn't believe how tiny she was. I couldn't believe Evelyn's really grown that much--even though the nursery workers assured me she has!

I also remember registering for baby food plates, sippy cups, and a highchair, and thinking that it'd be "a long time" before I actually needed to use any of them. Well, we started Evelyn on rice cereal last weekend and I soon realized I shouldn't have put off buying those items!

While at Babies R Us buying some of those items, I met another baby Evelyn's age. I liked their family instantly because they told me Evelyn "looks like an ice princess." Anyway, they asked, "Is she on chicken yet?" Come to find out, their baby has been eating solids since he was 3 months old!

Well, I for one think that's a little on the early side. But then again, as this video proves, Evelyn has Baby Liam to munch on whenever she gets hungry!

I want to live!

I had a bad morning. Nothing much happened, really. It was just bad. Surprising how little it takes sometimes. I hadn't slept well, Evelyn woke earlier than usual, a stack of dirty dishes greeted me, a request for revisions came through my inbox, a fast-approaching deadline reminder popped up on my calendar, my dog wanted walked, my Bible study was far behind, people were coming to my home in a matter of hours, the church newsletter was sorely neglected.

I could keep going but it'll just make me upset again. (Particularly since many of those past-tense verbs should accurately be present-tense.) Mostly I think I was jealous of other mothers who don't need to work at all--never mind the fact that I'm abundantly blessed to work as little and as conveniently as I do!

Anyway, I decided I needed a good little yell followed by a good little cry. And after the good little cry, the day got better. I worked away as much as I could on my projects. I played with Evelyn. I walked to the bank and the store and on my way back decided to take the longer loop around the park so I could pray. This is what I prayed:

"Lord, all I want is for my needs to be met. Just give me food and let the bills be paid. Thank you that I don't even need to request it. Thank you that you're doing that already."

And, I'll be honest, I also prayed:

"I don't like needing to trust you for these things. But I thank you that I can."

Back at home, Evelyn mercifully (I know it was God) took a longer-than-normal nap and I made myself physically walk away from the computer and eat my lunch at the coffee table with my Beth Moore Bible study book out. Can you guess what today's study discussed? Prosperity and contentment!

Here's her prayer:

"More than anything else, O God, we pray that You would prosper our loved ones [read: me!] with an abundance of You! If they can handle some ease and earthly success in the process, so be it! But whatever You do, O God, insist that they live. Really live. 'The thief cometh not but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: [You have] come that [we] might have life and that [we] might have it more abundantly.' (John 10:10) O Lord, make us courageous enough to pray that no earthly luxury would ever cheat us of true prosperity."

All I have to say to that is "AMEN!"

Happy Halloween!

I had given up on Halloween this year. Costume shops are depressing things. They are places where you can spend $50 on fabric that will barely survive the night. Places where men get arrested for peeping under women's dressing room doors (yes, we saw this happen). Places that make you think lingerie is actual clothing. Places that sell things like "Lord Lucifer" costumes, reminding you of the satanic nature of the holiday and making you question whether that bumble bee costume will somehow lead your infant daughter into future pagan worship.

If I had my way, we'd have locked the doors, shut off the lights, made hot chocolate, and watched old black and white Audrey Hepburn movies all night. (Mmm. Maybe we can do that next weekend.) But I didn't have my way. We had a church-sponsored Harvest Party to attend and a "Bean the Pirates" booth to man.

So I had a bumble bee costume for Evelyn. I thought I'd get a bumble bee costume for myself to match. Can I just say that there's a HUGE difference between infant, children's, and women's bumble bee costumes? Yikes! So I thought I'd wear an old frilly green skirt with an orange top, make myself a wand and maybe a tiara and be a "Pumpkin Fairy." Then Craig reminded me I'd thrown out the old frilly green skirt to save space. So then I wasn't going to be anything. Then Halloween morning dawned and I put on an orange top and black pants and suddenly thought, "I should just paint my face like a jack o'lantern!" So we head to the pharmacy to buy orange and black face paint. No go: they're all sold out. So we go to the crafts store. Again: sold out. So we make our way to that dreaded place full of bloody vampire teeth, peeping toms, and wannabe porn stars: the costume shop.

By this point, I'm really excited about my jack o'lantern idea. It's funny. It's cool. It's cheap. But Craig isn't content to buy the paint and leave. He wants to walk around, see if there's any last minute costume idea inspirations. And that's when we see it: a "bumble accessories kit" for $10. It has a ridiculously flimsy yellow and black striped chest piece that ties around your waist and neck, silly little glitter wings, and a black hood with yellow antennae. Pair these with yellow and black striped tights, throw on my black skirt and top, and there you have it: I'm a bumble bee after all.

I was pretty pleased with it most of the night. Particularly while waiting for the cross walk signal on my way to church when other pedestrians and skate boarders came to admire mine and Evelyn's matching costumes. Of course, then we got to the Harvest Party, where she quickly overheated and came out of her costume. Then I just felt like a silly little bee buzzing around all by my lonesome.

Well, not really. There was a pirate and Thumper to keep me company! (There was a walking oven with a bun inside too, but she didn't make it into the photo.)

After originally publishing this post, I found a photo of the walking oven in my inbox. Yay!

More Laughter

For all those who enjoyed the original belly laugh, here's "The Mirror Laugh." Enjoy!