Stuff

A dear friend of mine made the decision a few months ago to move into assisted living. (She's in her 80's.)

Two weeks ago, she got the news that there is a place available for her in the facility she'd chosen. It's a great facility-the one I'd choose if I were in her place, but it's still a major transition.

I used to think the big deal about moving into assisted living was giving up the independence of living on your own.

That is a big deal, but maybe an even bigger deal is leaving all the stuff you've collected over decades. Stuff that you thought meant something, but after 50 years of tucking it into a drawer, or polishing it's surface, or flipping through it's pages, it's headed to the dump, or DI, or the library.

I've been helping my friend go through her 4 bedroom home. Helping her slim her possessions down to a one bedroom condo size mass. It's been all her decisions-I'm just the able body that she directs, "Put that in the trash box, that in the DI box...I'll bring that one with me." In the process, she's bestowed some beautiful things upon me and my little family.

I like to think they'll get a kind of re-incarnation with us. Some of the things are things she's had since she was a young mom. I love thinking about her opening the wardrobe that's now sitting in my room, looking in the mirror on the inside and thinking to herself, "Here we go, another day. God, help me find the energy to mother my children as thou wouldst have me do." There's a sentimentality that comes with things that have a known history to me.

And yet, I've found that my friend's experience of sifting through decades of accumulated sentimental possessions has given me a new perspective on things. A reminder that it's all just stuff in the end. I don't have to hold on to my wedding bouquet to remember how joyful I felt that day. I don't have to hold on to childhood jewelry I'll never wear again to remember how proud I felt to own a piece of real silver. Watching my friend bravely slim her life down has blessed me with the perspective to realize that I should really just hold on to things that I'm using right now, or will use in the future. If I'm done with something, I should let it go now, instead of in 60 years, when I'm wrapping my own life up.

My friend is a great example to me. How much easier would it be to stubbornly stay in her home 'till the day she dies, and never have to face wrapping things up? Then her kids could throw away the piles of scenery pictures from her many travels across the world, the old 4H ribbons she faithfully stored for them since they were 8, the trinkets and pictures her kids and grandkids and great grandkids have given her over the decades.

She could keep clutching to that stuff until the day she dies, but she's chosen not to. It's been an emotional endeavor. Hard. But I see her discovering anew what really matters, and she's teaching me, too. Her family is rallied around her-almost always a great grand child, or grand child , or child is there, helping to pack Grandma up. Helping to remind Grandma that it's relationships, experiences, testimony that really matters, and all those things are absolutely portable.

Desert Downpour

What is it about us as human beings that ties us so strongly to routines, patterns, "the way it's always been"? Why is it so hard for us to switch gears?

In fact, thinking about it now, the whole world is set up to resist major changes in a short period of time. Desert ecosystems are perfectly adapted to dry conditions-if we should suddenly get a coastal area's share of precipitation, we'd have a natural disaster on our hands.

Do you ever feel like a desert getting coastal downpour?

The good news is, adaptation is just as primal as our tendency to hold to routine. Somehow, the world adapts as climates change and so do we. It may feel like a natural disaster in the moment, and when all is said and done, we may have a whole new look and feel to our lives, but things work out. They always have, I think they always will.

Last night, Rudy slept the first night of the rest of his life in a bed, instead of a crib.

He's slept in a bed before, but yesterday, he and Jason took the crib apart together.

It's sitting in our garage, an affirmation of Rudy's total transition from crib...

to bed.

I know, I bet you're thinking, "Sheesh! All that natural disaster talk was about a stinkin' piece of furniture?!!"

But putting the crib away felt like putting Rudy's babyhood away. It felt like closing the door to that stage of his life-of my life with him-and opening the door to so many other changes.

We transferred him to the bed in preparation for his move to his new room downstairs (we didn't want him to go to a new room in a new bed.) He's moving to a room downstairs because a delightful little girl is maturing within my womb as I type.

I'm about to be a mother of two, first time mother of a little girl. My body is changing as it nurtures my little child, and prepares to welcome her into the world. My heart is changing as I consider raising a daughter as well as a son. Our house is changing as we work to prepare it for two children. Even my workout routine is changing, as the best running partner I've ever had moves on to a great new job, changing our availability from compatible to incompatible.

That's probably why even though Rudy transitioned from one piece of furniture to the other almost seamlessly, I had nightmares last night about my little baby boy morphing into strange things in the night. My life is morphing-in beautiful and happy ways-but it's still morphing, and so it's still hard.

No Old Spice Necessary

My man dug a 6' by 5' by 3' hole THROUGH THE CONCRETE using a big metal spear (San Angeles bar), a shovel, two buckets, and a rusted out wheel barrow. No Old Spice needed: He's already the man of my dreams. (Although, if you want your man to at least smell like mine...) ;)

P.S. To all you 2 year old young ladies out there-Rudy's a stud muffin in the making. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, you know. ;)

Possibly my favorite Rudy Prayer to date:

"Dear Heavenly Father, we thank thee for...in the name of...that nobody will come and eat us up. In the name of Jesus Christ, AMEN!"

This was his prayer over our dinner meal after he and Jason had been hunting and hiding from monsters down in the basement for a good hour.

I love that kid! :)

Apricot Jam

Two sink fulls of apricots from friends' trees...

countless bubbling sweet concoctions of pureed fruit, pectin, apple juice, and a touch of honey or sugar...
Every canning worthy jar we could muster from our stash, a friend's garage, and another friend's mom's basement...
Lots of stirring, stirring, stirring...
makes for a delicious bounty of my favorite kind of jam ever, and a day well spent with a great friend. We both felt extremely domestic-glowingly domestic I'd say.
Sometimes, (definitely NOT all the time, but SOMETIMES), I don't mind the old and extremely biased statement, "A woman's place is in the kitchen." Sometimes, the kitchen is a perfectly heavenly and productive place to be, and I feel right at home there with friends and family and good conversation.

Birthday Celebrations

Jason turned 28 on July 31st. I've been putting off the post because I haven't gotten a picture of him enjoying his rockin' hammock he got from his parents, but I figure now that it's the 22nd of August, this is getting a bit ridiculous. I'll just have to do a separate post for the hammock. It really deserves it's own post anyway-Jason has been LOVIN' it. I'm surprised I haven't gotten a good pick, but usually when he's relaxing in his hammock, I'm relaxing in the bed...

Anyway-we had a lot of fun celebrating Jason's big day. We started about a week early and celebrated every chance we got. My parents took Rudy for us the night before Jason's birthday and kept him until 5 pm the next day. We had a blast being just us for a while, deciding on the spur of the moment what to do, not having to worry about getting home for a babysitter or for nap time or what not. Probably my favorite part of Rudy's sleepover with my parents was waking up and just staying in bed until we felt like getting up. That was a treat!

Here are the pictures I have to commemorate Jason's big day. :)

The birthday card Rudy picked out from the multitudes of cards at the store with Oma. She said he took a LOOONG time to choose, carefully examining each card. When he found this one, Rudy laughed, "Rufus is eating a cupcake! Daddy will like this!"

The Death by Chocolate Costco Cake that Jason requested for his birthday celebration.

Rudy placed the candles. The eight represents the fact that Jason is now 28. The other candles are because we couldn't find a two, and Rudy really thought we needed more than just a couple candles on the cake.

Here's Rudy leading the Happy Birthday song.

Jason and Rudy blowing out candles.

The remains of the giant slice of ultra chocolate cake we had as a dessert at Tucanos.

Jason's birthday wish: a night out at Tucanos. We decided to bring Rudy along and it turned out to be a really fun family outing. Rudy at most his meal with the mini tongs they give you to grab meat off the slab as waiters come and slice it off for you. He called the tongs his "baby alligator".

The Zoo!

Sigh. I'm way behind in my blogging. I wish I felt more creative right now, but, alas, you'll have to put up with a strictly documentary style post to record my son's first trip ever to the zoo. It really was a blast...

Feeding the ducks, geese, swans...various other water fowl. Rudy really loved it when the ducklings came by to get his food pebbles. Jason's blood pressure stayed above healthy until his son was no longer in peril of drowning. (Yes, those are fences all around the water. No, they did not help my poor husband relax in the slightest.) ;)

Deciding if this really was a 'safe choice' to drink from the mouth of a lion.

A family shot with the giraffes. Rudy was actually quite nervous about these big guys. More so than the alligators or tigers or any of the other deadly predators we saw.

Favorite Rudy quote from the whole trip: As the carousel sets into motion, and his eagle begins to rise, Rudy exclaims ecstatically to me: "I'm fwying! I'm reawy fwying!" Of course, milliseconds later he realized that his eagle was in fact, attached to a pole and was just going to go up and down through the ride, but that moment of exhilarated flight was enough for him (and me). Totally made the ridiculous price of the ride worth it. :)

Family shot riding the train. Rudy loved it...so I guess that's good enough. :) I'd never recommend the ride to anyone over 3 years old though...unless, of course, you're accompanying a small child, in which case, their excitement almost makes up for the scripted jokes of the engineer. ;)

We brought home two souvenir peacock feathers we found along the way. They were Rufus' favorite toys for a good 2 weeks (after which they were so thrashed I finally threw them away.)