A little shut-eye

I'm hesitant to even put this in writing for fear that it will cease to be. Wyatt has been sleeping in later than usual and I have never been more happy. Both days over the weekend he slept until 8:15. I'm attributing it to the new blackout curtains and his general activity level during the days. It's difficult to put into words the difference this makes in our day but it's remarkable for both of us. We're both better rested and seem to deal with life a whole lot better when we're not exhausted.

I'm not bragging, really. I'm being thankful for what is rather than what isn't. I can easily make a list of all of the challenges too (He still eats dirt and now licks the soap off his body during every bath. Again, Pica? He opens the fridge and cracks eggs into kitchen bowls. He whines and whines and whines and doesn't understand why saying, "Please," one hundred times in a row does not get him what he wants every time. He picks the unripe summer squash off the plant, the one I've been dreaming of for at least a month. Aside from "please" his favorite word combination is, "No, no, no, no, no." Need I go on?) but am learning how to revel in life's highlights a bit more.

If I had a picture to go along with his post, it would be of me, waking up at 7:30 to no alarm or shouting child, spending a little time alone with my cup of coffee topped with frothed milk and reading a non-children's book.

Ever Seen Crazy Heart?

I watched Knight and Day in the theatre on Friday and Crazy Heart at home on Saturday. While Knight and Day was a light hearted escape in the form of action and a little romance, Crazy Heart was a spectacular film.

Let me tell you a little secret. I love watching movies in the theater by myself. I started doing this the year following college because I worked at an ad agency right near two fantastic theaters and it was easy to stop in for a movie on my way walking to the El (or the "L", it seems to be quite the debate) after a long day. I like the ease of seeing something on a whim and the quietness of being by myself in a big, dark theatre.

The first time I went by myself I was a little self conscious. I was worried that someone might think I was a loser with no friends. I now realize the absurdity of caring what strangers think of me. There are far less opportunities these days to go to the movies by myself but I found myself with a little extra time and the need to escape reality on Friday. Knight and Day hit the spot. Tom Cruise was surprisingly enjoyable in his role and Cameron Diaz's beautiful but overly animated face did not entirely ruin it.

Last night we rented Crazy Heart and I'm still thinking about it. The acting and filmmaking were spectacular and I was deeply drawn into the story of Bad Blake, the washed up, substance abusing country star with a penchant for absentee parenting and rich song writing. It felt like a combination of The Wrestler and Walk the Line, borrowing the best elements of each. Jeff Bridges gave the best performance I've seen in quite some time.

My favorite moment came when he returned to the home of his love after going through a residential treatment program for alcohol. Their last contact was when he lost her four year old son at a mall while getting a quick drink at a bar. This bottoming out experience led him to rehab and he was soon knocking on her door asking to be forgiven and back together. She immediately gave him a resounding no and the camera closed in on his face after she closed the front door with finality. In this moment, one wondered if he made all of the changes in his life for himself or for her in hopes of winning her back. The look on his face perfectly captured the despair of knowing that in spite of his new lease on life she would never be with him again. What will it be? McClure's Whiskey or continued sobriety without the love of his life?

I have this option in front of me sometimes even though I have the distinct benefit of having Garett by my side. Although whiskey is not my drug of choice, I recognize the real choice between a path that leads to life and a path that doesn't when life is not as I wish it was. I can choose to bury my head in the sand, distract myself or pretend that it's not that bad or I can choose to know God more and honestly pour out my disappointment to him, trusting that he is enough. One option leads to numbness, the other to a soft heart that feels deeply.

Beyond Embarrassing

The other night, Garett and I tuned in to the end of The Bachelorette. I was a rubbernecker and could not take my eyes off the train wreck that was Jake and Vienna's breakup. Admittedly, I did not watch any of their television season but I have seen other Bachelor seasons so I know how the show works.

I feel like a small disclaimer is required. Two things: First, I am in a pretty reflective state right now (yes, even more than usual) so I'm not entirely surprised that I had a break through moment while watching The Bachelorette. I'm partially blaming this awakening to an email I received last week from iVillage with the subject "Eye Rolling is a Predictor of Divorce". Second, it's really embarrassing to draw any comparisons from their relationship to mine, but I am getting over the embarrassment and going ahead with the post.

I can't imagine breaking up on television. When I think back to the myriad of breakups over my many years of dating, I shudder to think of a camera rolling during or after any of them. However, it's very, very interesting to be a fly on the wall of someone else's breakup.

Having read Love and Respect and Intimate Allies (both Christian marriage books), I saw some familiar themes reflected on the TV show. Jake was asking (or, demanding, frankly) to be respected and Vienna was begging for love.

The entire show pretty much went like this,"You don't respect me."

"How can I respect you when you don't love me?"

"How can I love you if you don't respect me?"

And back and forth and back and forth.

When I first read Love and Respect about five years ago, I didn't really think it was a good book. It seemed formulaic to me (My biggest pet peeve with most Christian books is an easy how-to list promoting one way of doing something and that following said list guarantees a certain outcome.) complete with a labeled how-to diagram. But I think the authors are onto something. While I think our degrees of need for these two things vary from partnership to partnership, there really is something unique about a man's need for respect and a woman's need for love. And there's definitely something to the way we spiral out of control when we are not extending love and respect to one another.

I also saw some serious anger and control issues. And, sadly, I can relate. I have been really struggling with my desire to control Garett. In theory and even in reality, on a good day, I delight in him as he is, including all of the ways that he is different than me. But often I spend an inordinate amount of time wishing he was more like me. This desire eeks out in the form of anger, impatience and disinterest and I'm ashamed to admit it. I interrupt him far more often than a good listener would. I say things like, "What's wrong with you?" when he doesn't turn the right page while we're reading with Wyatt. (This actually happened and I have no idea where it came from, but it was horrible.) I choose to read lame websites rather than talk with him at the end of the day.

Somehow seeing this broken relationship on television woke me up to my brokenness in a new way. It's embarrassing that I could see parts of myself in this needy, nagging woman. It's even more embarrassing that I could see myself in the smug, detached man as well. I suppose it's called reality television for a reason. It's easy to call these folks absurd and extreme and snicker at their inability to love well. It's more difficult to admit that the patterns reflected in their conflict are not so far fetched. On Monday night, after I got over the mockery, my heart softened and was inspired to invite God into some of these areas to shine some light.

To Portland Via Scooter

This evening Wyatt strapped on his helmet and headed down the sidewalk to go to Ava's house. He must have said goodbye twenty times and pleaded with us to go inside. He estimated that he'd get to Ava's house in three months. That may have been true if he had remembered to wear shoes.

A Crib No More

Wyatt started sleeping in a new bed this weekend and, knock on wood, it was not a big deal. In my mind, moving him from a crib to a "big boy bed" was going to be the death of sleeping until 7 and brought great risk of losing his 2-3 hour afternoon rest. So far, neither is the case. In fact, I had to wake him up at 7:30 this morning because a new sitter was there and I thought they'd need a proper introduction.
I think it was good that it was a spur of the moment decision. Garett built the frame a few weekends ago but it wasn't until 6pm on Friday night that we all decided he'd spend his first night in his new bed. My parents were over and brilliantly suggested we take down the crib. That really sealed the deal and made us all commit. The only tricky thing was Wyatt getting out of bed and turning on the light. But we just turned off the light after he was asleep.
I was convinced that Wyatt changing beds was really going to throw off his stellar sleeping habits and that both of us would be worse for the wear. I'm reminded of the wisdom of Jesus when I worry excessively. Do not worry about tomorrow. It sounds so easy but is increasingly difficult for me as a new parent. I have very little margin in my life (I mean, I have a pretty limited amount of energy so I try to be very intentional about how I exert it, as intentional as I can be with a two year old boy.) so I am fearful about making changes with Wyatt that will significantly impact my ability to be his mom. I clearly feel a little more in control than I really am...which leads me back to Jesus' wise words.
As for the space below his bed, I'm picturing it as a cozy reading nook but it's far more likely that it will end up as a garbage truck storage area or a helicopter landing pad. What would we do without Garett and his amazing design/build abilities?

Those Friends

You know those friends who you simply enjoy being around? The ones who you may have barely spoken to for months but the friendship can easily pick up right where it left off. The ones who you look forward to coming to stay at your house. The ones who you can be yourself around and wind up feeling encouraged after spending time with. The ones who are easy to be parents with and around. Those friends. Yes, we are thankful for them.
We spent last weekend in Portland for a wedding and got to spend three days and two nights with the Hsiehs. We hadn't seen them since last March when they were down here for Ben's Spring Break. Ian is now part an adorable part of the family. It was so nice to see Ava (3.5) and Wyatt (2) playing together. They like each other and seem to be a great distance apart in age. Wyatt learned a lot from spiritual and imaginative Ava (praying, fishing for magnets, and slaying dragons) and it was beautiful to see them enjoy each other the way they did.
At the end of the weekend, it actually seemed like we had a longer trip than just three days. Hopefully that was not the case for our kind hosts. We relaxed on the porch swing solving the world's problems, ate the best ever mint chocolate chunk cookies, went to a dance party that reminded me of our post-Wheaton year of finding fun dance spots in Chicago, discovered a new type of horticulture called espalier, watched Thumbelina twice, chased Stormy the cat around the entire house, celebrated our consistently remarkable husbands and the fathers they have become and generally laughed a lot.
We also got to go the gorgeous and meaningful wedding of our friend Suzy. I'm still in awe of her dress (and dying that I did not get a picture of it) and twelve part toast that was much shorter than it sounds. Wyatt only interrupted the toast once with a sweet, "Hi, Suzy." Getting to see Wheaton friends from years ago was also a treat.
Rebekah's offer to have Wyatt and I stay another week was a sign that I wasn't the only one enjoying myself. If only I didn't have to rush back on Sunday night for a minor surgical procedure at Stanford on Monday. All went well and I'm home recovering with the help of narcotics and my parents who have Wyatt for the week.

I Left My Heart

We spent last week in San Francisco in a little garage apartment in the Cow Hollow neighborhood. We stumbled upon the place on vrbo and really lucked out on the location. We had access to the backyard with a sandbox, two basketball hoops and a kid pool. There was a park on the same block and we could walk down to the marina in just about 20 minutes. I could have stayed another couple of months but Garett had house projects on the brain and was ready to get home. He always gets creative when we're in a city and he's looking forward to bringing his sketches and ideas to life.
Here's a rundown of the trip (According to a friend, it's a trip rather than a vacation when we bring Wyatt along.):

- Golden Gate Park(Koret Children's Quarter and California Academy of Sciences) and the Ferry Building twice (A Blue Bottle latte is the gold standard.)
- Cable cars and the bus
- Irish coffee at the Buena Vista Club
- The zoo with my parents and brother
- Finding miraculously amazing parking spots on the same block as our place every single day (I was reminded of living in Chicago and the thrill of backing into a coveted spot perfectly on the first try.)
- Exceptional meals at Slanted Door, Burma Superstar, Pan E Vino, and La Boulange
- Leisurely soaking up art at SFMOMA while Wyatt spent a day with his grandparents
- Walking, walking, walking

Wyatt seemed to really like San Francisco. It might have had something to do with the number of garbage truck sightings or the fact that three different servers brought him free ice cream at the end of his meal. His flexibility still amazes me and I have a lot to learn from him in that way.

Here are a few shots from the week:

Six Stitches

Last weekend Wyatt cracked his forehead on a sharp stone step and wound up with six stitches. It was far more traumatic for Garett and me. The only good thing was that we happened to be in Turlock and were joined by Garett's dad, my folks and my brother in the emergency room.
Unfortunately this is a fuzzy shot but it captures Wyatt's sad face too well to not post. Our nightly regime included band-aid removal, hydrogen peroxide and polysporin application and putting on another band-aid. I'm not sure exactly what Wyatt detested about this process but he made his frustration quite evident. I love the big lower lip.
All is well now and the stitches are removed. He may or may not even have a scar because the doctors said he hit it in a great spot that heals well. Good coordination of injury placement, Wyatt.

Happy Anniversary

Tonight we celebrated eight years with a $4.89 meal at Costco. If we weren't spending next week in San Francisco I might be a little on the disappointed side. I tried explaining to Wyatt what an anniversary is but he kept saying, "Happy birthday, Mommy. Mommy eight!" I think he was just hoping for a piece of cake with ice cream.
I can't believe it was eight years ago when I walked down the aisle (or runway, as Garett prefers to call it) to my groom standing on the metal platform welded with love. I love Garett more today than I did eight years ago. His depth, courage, kindness, generosity and humor are a few of the things that I especially value. And I also don't mind his amazing skills in the kitchen and the garden and the way he lets me sleep in on Saturday mornings while he makes Wyatt pancakes. It's an honor to be his partner and I'm looking forward to eight more years of adventure.

Trust and Costumes

Yesterday was a really good day. Wyatt loves playing "barefeet" in the backyard and I can't bring myself to force him to wear shoes. But yesterday several splinters wiggled their way into his feet and it was a problem. We got the tweezers and started talking with him about what we needed to do to get them out. He was understandably not thrilled about this process but nonetheless sat still for us to pull and dig them out. As he sat there with huge crocodile tears streaming down his face, I was struck by the immensity of his trust. Yes, he was uncomfortable and not pleased, but he stayed still and believed what we said about benefits of getting the splinters out now instead of later. I couldn't help but think about how I want to trust God through pain, knowing that all is not outside His purview and that He's holding me, comforting me and caring for me in and through it. And that tears somehow allow a greater depth of comfort and relationship to prevail.
We also had a Lost Finale Party last night. The food theme was seafood and everyone wore a costume. We had crazy Claire, Locke, Rousseau, Charlie, and the front and tail sections of Oceanic Flight #815. Garett and I were Sawyer and Juliet circa 1974 during their Dharma days. We ate clams casino, ceviche, cioppino, and fresh made bread with herb butter, and drank lava flows. And this group does not disappoint in the food department. Each item was prepared with the best ingredients with keen attention to detail. For example, we had three kinds of rum in each Lava Flow and each drink had at least 10 ingredients (and probably more) including fresh strawberries, pineapple and banana. Yum!
It was a late night but definitely worth staying up for. I am still on the fence about my feelings on the finale but watching it with friends while sipping a Lava Flow out of a hurricane glass was so right. The costume fun reminded me of Garett and my dating days when we nailed a punk rock look one Halloween. I'm grateful for friends who value having fun as much as we do.

And some pictures...

We have a little lookout near us called Terrace Hill. We've been enjoying walking up it lately and Wyatt is now able to walk up and down by himself. Hopefully the shot below will the last time we bring the Bob with us.
The zoo. We loved the gorillas.
And we took a tram up to the polar bears on this lovely San Diego day.

Round Two: Tears are Good

We spent another weekend in San Diego. Celebrating Mother's Day with an intense session of grieving may sound odd but it was a really good way to spend the morning. The remainder of the weekend was uneventful in an ideal way. The zoo was huge and a little overwhelming (for me, not Wyatt) but the gorillas, polar bears and elephants were fascinating. When I ask Wyatt about his favorite part of the zoo, without fail he answers, "Macaws too loud." I had a perfect bowl of Pho at a Yelp-recommended Vietnamese restaurant near our hotel and Wyatt discovered a love of egg rolls.
To prepare for Sunday, I read Crabb's Shattered Dreams, mediated on Psalm 62 and 63, and thought back to age 15 and wrote a list of everything that I was angry about and what I lost. I think the meditating meant the most, as God is helping me learn how to be more honest. In what can only be described as mystery, Sheryl opened up our time together with Psalm 63, though she had no idea that was the passage that God led me to during our six weeks apart. God led her to the same passage that morning. I struggle to acknowledge these moments in life as divine and would usually rather chalk them up to coincidence but it was a surprising confirmation that God is in the middle of this grieving process.
We spent a considerable amount of time talking about things I've lost. I hate even typing "things I've lost" because it feels so final and depressing. If I hate typing it, you can imagine how I feel about sitting with these things for any length of time. I desperately want to push fast forward and get on with it. Yet I'm clinging to what I remember about my life before I got sick.
Grieving is messy and that's probably the hardest part of the process. I'm messy and unpredictable...which is code for not in control. As God opens these deep crevasses in my soul, I am flooded with a new range of feelings on nearly every subject. There is a rawness to me right now that is uncomfortable.
As messy as it is and as many tears as I'm crying, I'm thankful that God is meeting and loving me. My hope is that His presence and love will be what my heart craves. For now, I'm still wrestling with my natural-but-too-important desire for good health and a quick, easy path, and I'm learning to be patient in the waiting.

Evidence

We had a few friends over today for a mini birthday celebration. It was a lovely morning to play outside and we even had a few conversations that lasted longer than two minutes. A friend took these pictures (Thanks, Amanda!). Josh, I thought you'd especially appreciate Wyatt's cool shirt. And I'm glad to now have a photo of Wyatt with dirt on his mouth. When he's older and I tell him that he used to love to eat dirt, it will be nice to have actual evidence of this stellar phase.

More Pictures - Garden and Good Times

Some Pictures

We spent Easter with some new friends and Wyatt got to experience his first Easter egg hunt.
We've spent the last couple of weekends working in the yard and planting our first garden. Garett built a few raised beds and we found two feeding troughs at the local farm supply store. The highlight was the large amount of dirt dropped off in our driveway. Wyatt's never been as dirty or happy. He liked to climb up to the top of the pile and slide down on his belly. It's too bad that I don't have a picture of Garett using the wheelbarrow to bring all this dirt from the driveway to the backyard because it was pretty impressive. All I really contributed was some measly shoveling and keeping an eye on Wyatt while he tried to eat globs of dirt. Yes, I still do a lot of finger sweeping.