Life is a series of false summits and then you die. You won't ever reach the peak in this life. You die on the trail along the way. One moment you're sucking air and your legs ache and the next, you're sitting on the summit, the true, highest one, and God/Jesus/Spirit is next to you like, "See what it looks like from here?" And you're like, "Oh, now I get it." And then God/Jesus/Spirit breaks into a real smart-ass smile, but not in a judgey way, in a way that means You're so adorable when you think you know things, the way an adult smiles at a 3-year-old who's patiently explaining how Santa gets all those presents delivered in one night.

The thing is, you can get to the trailhead brazenly confident with your newish but properly worn-in boots, your Patagonia this, your North Face that, and your highlighted trail map in a waterproof bag in an easily-accessible zippered pocket of your pack, but somewhere along the way, you're probably going to lose the trail.

This may frustrate you to no end if you keep backtracking and looking for signs of your original trail, but if you just start walking in a generally upward direction and stop staring at the ground for the right trail, you'll probably find yourself on one eventually.

Sometimes as you hike you'll be surrounded by people you like who make you laugh and with whom you can have such beautiful, meaningful conversations that you don't even care how hungry and tired and smelly you are. Other times you may find yourself in step with someone whose very way of breathing annoys the hell out of you, except they don't just breathe, they also talk loudly and consistently, trumpeting out opinions you never asked for.

Sometimes you'll walk alone vacillating between loneliness and gratefulness for the quiet solitude.

And sometimes you'll notice your shoulders feel like they're starting to float, and you'll realize someone has come up behind you and started taking things out of your pack to carry for you. This is incredibly humbling, of course, because you are an adult and you should be able to carry your own damn pack, only you don't argue because you know full well you do not have the strength to carry your own pack right now. And it would be good to walk unburdened for a while. So you thank them and watch as they transfer your dirty, sweat-stained shirts to their pack and hope that someday you'll be afforded the same measure of grace to put someone else's dirty laundry into your pack like it's the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it is.

And maybe when you show up exhausted at the camp site you'll find that some people got there before you and they already set up a tarp to sit under cause it's raining now. And the opinionated heavy-breather has even made a fire and started boiling water for coffee and you're so grateful you go sit down right next to them and accept the cup that's being offered to you. And you'll drink the coffee and rest your legs and close your eyes and listen to the cadence of raindrops bouncing off the tarp and allow yourself to be lulled to sleep for a while by the wind swaying the trees and kissing you on the forehead.

Draft of this post dated October 2013 saved but never posted.

It's October! Which means that instead of being 100 degrees every day it's only 90, sometimes 80, and will even get down to the 60's on occasion just to make sure we're paying attention. To me the seasons changing is the loudest reminder that God has not given up on the world.

Eydie's favorite movie right now is Soul Surfer. And her favorite joke is anything bottom-related. So when Bethany's dad is training her for competition post-shark attack, he says it's not going to be easy, and Bethany says, "I don't need easy. I just need possible." But the other day while watching and quoting it, Eydie said, "I don't need easy. I just need cheek bottoms. Just kidding. I need popsicle."

 

a year ago

*Everyone's birth story is different and every one is amazing and interesting . . . whether it all goes perfectly or nothing goes as planned. My only "birth plan" was to deliver a baby somehow, some way, so I would say ours was a complete success. This is what I remember so I won't forget later. If you don't think birth stories are interesting, stop reading now and scroll down to the pictures.

July 15, 2012 I went to church and then to eat lunch at Perini's with my family. That evening Brandon and I went on a walk (I don't know what's slower than a walk, but that's what we did) around ACU and pushed Eydie in the stroller. My due date was July 22nd, and I had Eydie 3 days after her due date, so I wasn't expecting to go into labor early, but around 1:00 the morning of the 16th I started having contractions and could not go back to sleep. By 3:00 they were stronger and closer together. I told Brandon I thought we needed to go to the hospital, and he said, "Are you sure?" He didn't want to go and get sent back home. I said, "Well, not 100% but I would like an expert opinion." We called my mom to come stay with Eydie and around 4:00 AM Brandon and I went to the hospital.

We were put in a triage room at first and monitored to make sure I was indeed in labor, which I was. At 6:45 Dr. Tadvick came by and said we would be moved to a labor and delivery room soon, get an epidural, break my water, and have a baby. That's what he said . . . in that order. We hadn't slept much, and Brandon thought if this time was anything like the first, I would get an epidural, we would both take a nap, and the nurse would wake us up when it was time for me to push.

So we got to the labor and delivery room about 7:15. The nurse took a blood sample and said she had to send it to the lab before they would give me an epidural. They did not do this when I had Eydie, so when I asked her how long that would take and she said about an hour, what I really wanted to say was why didn't you start this whole process at like 4:15 AM?

But I wasn't in much of a position to argue since I couldn't speak during contractions and it seemed to me like there was barely a break in between them. Brandon had told our families that I would probably have the baby sometime that morning, so they were getting ready to come to the hospital. Brandon was trying to keep everyone updated by text but he didn't really know when to tell them to come up there. His mom came by around 7:30 and visited with us a little bit and then went to the waiting room. Every time I would have a contraction I would lean forward and my nurse would come tell me not to do that because the monitor on the baby's heart rate would come off, so I moved to my side so I could curl up my knees and hold on to the bed railings.

At 8:00 my water broke. It was a totally different feeling than the first time. With Eydie, my water broke as the first sign of labor before any contractions. This time I felt like a human waterfall. I told Brandon to go get the nurse because my water broke and I was pushing. It wasn't that I needed to push or I felt it was time to push, my body was pushing and I was not consulted about nor responsible for its actions. The nurse came in and checked me, and I remember this clearly because it seemed like an odd question to ask, but she said, "Are you in a lot of pain?" All I could do was say, "Yes" because I couldn't manage more than one or two syllables at a time. She seemed surprised that the baby was coming now and said I didn't act like I was in a lot of pain. I then wondered what good were all the damn monitors if they couldn't tell that I was having painful contractions. But I'm glad I couldn't say that.

She told me I was at an 8 (I think the last time they had checked I was a 4 or 5) and a bunch of people came in and started doing stuff, I don't really remember. Brandon asked her about the epidural and then he really sweetly came over to me and told me I wasn't going to have time to get it. In my head I yelled NO SHIT!, but my mouth was too busy breathing so I just nodded.

Then Dr. Tadvick ran in and I pushed some more . . . yada, yada, yada . . . a baby came out at 8:15 and he said, "It's a boy!"

We had not found out the sex of the baby, and in my mind I had thought that Brandon would go out to the waiting room which would be full of our families and friends and announce the sex while people took pictures and hugged and high-fived and hand-shaked (yes, I just made it a verb), but only Karen was out there, and thankfully she hadn't left because she was about to go to a meeting and then come back after it thinking she still had time. So, Brandon went out and told his mom and we texted everyone else and told them it was a boy and they all arrived shortly after.

If it had been a girl we would've named her Holland Faith (Holland is my nana's maiden name). But we hadn't settled on a boy's name. Gavin Grey had been my favorite and now that he actually had a son, Brandon agreed that he liked it, so that is what we named him. Actually, we named him Gavan Gray. I don't really remember why we wanted to spell it that way at first, but a week later we went out to eat for the first time as a family of four at Jason's Deli and I cried the whole time because we spelled his name wrong. Brandon said, "But we meant to." But I couldn't stop thinking about it, so we had it changed and on his birth certificate it says Gavan Gray, with a little amendment at the bottom that has the change to Gavin Grey.

And that, in a nutshell, is Gavin's birth story. I wouldn't change a thing about it. And I would do it all over again right now if it meant I got to hold that sweet newborn again.

Gavin,
You have blessed and changed our family. I love being your mom and the recipient of your pats, kisses, and snuggles. I love being the one you want when you fall down or when Eydie accidentally knocks you out of the wagon. You are so close to walking, and you sleep so well now. It's hard to believe how much you have changed in a year. I've loved you every second and always will. Sorry about your birth certificate.
Love, Mom

family vacation

How is it already the middle of July? I started the summer off strong with a couple projects around the house. I painted and hung pictures in both bathrooms. And I bought several paint samples and have about 4 shades of blue on the laundry room walls waiting for me to choose one and complete the job. But . . . I don't know where my motivation went. Surely it'll turn up somewhere. I wish I could get the 30 week nesting instinct without the pregnancy. Another thing to fall by the wayside . . . this blog. So, here's a short picture post of our family vacation in June.

Sadie obviously knows what to do when there's a camera.

Last month, my family (including my parents and my sister's family) took a little vacation together near Marble Falls. We stayed at Log Country Cove on Lake LBJ. The kids enjoyed some cousin time together and we enjoyed visiting, swimming, and being someplace prettier and greener than Abilene.

There are several playground areas around the camp. And look, TREES!

Eydie turned 4 while we were there. I hope she never hates her wispy curls because I love them.

These guys have no wispy curls to speak of, but the fresh from the bath combover is pretty cute too.

This is where we stayed. Not too shabby. Random decor on the inside. As you can imagine, some of us (Summer, Brandon, Ava) had several discussions about how we would redecorate if we owned it. I don't think we need to worry though.

And this is what a few days of staying in the same house will do for you.

ballpark sleepover

A couple weeks ago (Mother's Day weekend), we got to experience something none of us had ever done before . . . we had a sleepover at the Rangers ballpark. It was a pretty intimate group of about 3,000 to 4,000 although not that many actually slept there all night. We left our little kids with grandmas and took the three oldest cousins.

Family, Rangers ballpark, baseball movie, and sleeping outside - it was pretty much a culmination of my dad's favorite things (and mine). It was pretty cool.

We watched the Ranger away game on screen from the stands. Then they let us on the field to watch Sandlot. Can you believe that movie came out 20 years ago? Did I mention the writer/director/narrator and the actor who played Hamilton "Ham" Porter were there? It was pretty cool.

Little kids running around in pajamas on the field. Pure cuteness.

Does this next picture make anyone feel claustrophobic? The crowd didn't bother me at all, but Summer strategically chose our sleeping spot so that she could have an escape route. If you look at the bottom of the picture, you can see Brandon next to the fence. We slept just on the other side of that so, as Summer said, if I have to go to the bathroom or there's a bomb, I can get out fast. Good plan . . . except that all night people walk past you to go to the bathroom and the security guards talk nearby and at 6:00 people start filing out right beside you.

I slept wonderfully, unbothered by the crowd, the noise, the ground, or the temperature until about 3 AM when Eydie got cold and started crying/almost yelling. I was trying hard to calm her down before she woke up everyone in earshot. (She's really hard to reason with in the middle of the night and her cry can turn into hysterical screams in a matter of seconds.) Summer heard me and the next morning said it sounded like I was trying to talk her out of jumping off a building. I finally got Little Bit quiet by putting her in my sleeping bag with me, so my comfort the rest of the night was about what you would imagine if you shared a mummy bag with a 3-year old. But we woke up in the morning in right field at the ballpark, so you know . . . it was pretty cool.

been out now for as long as he was in

This sweet boy is 9 months old. He is happy and relaxed most of the time. He has 2 teeth on bottom and 4 coming in on top. He weighs 18.8 pounds (19th percentile) and is 28 inches (42nd percentile). He pulls himself up to standing, crawls everywhere, claps his hands, tries to cover his eyes to play hide and seek, gives slobbery kisses, and has started eating table food. Some of his favorites are strawberries, bananas, bread, peas, and carrots. He pretty much sleeps through the night, sometimes waking up once, crying a little bit, and going back to sleep. And he takes a couple naps during the day.

I love his big blue eyes, his sweet disposition, his cuddles before bedtime. He grins big when Brandon talks to him like he's waiting to see what daddy's gonna do next.

Eydie's pretty crazy about him too.

What a joy you've been to our family these past nine months, Gavers! We love you, buddy.

baby slow down . . .

 . . .  the end is not as fun as the start. 

Please stay a child somewhere in your heart.

 - U2 Original of the Species

This is my ringtone. Everytime someone calls me I'm reminded to slow down (which may account for why I miss calls).

I hate the battles of getting ready and leaving the house. I used to be so good at sliding in just on time, verging on late but not quite. However, the kids have changed my morning routine a bit, yet somehow I always think I'll have just enough time until I glance at the clock as I'm grabbing the backpacks and then I start yelling at Eydie to hurry up and get in the car because now she's in the front yard looking for her pretend key. This sometimes results in a threat or a spanking, tears (on her part), tension (on my part), and is just not the way I want to start the day. The other day she told me, "I hate it when we have to hurry." Yeah I know. Me too. But how can I break this cycle?

For starters, I should get up and get the kids and myself ready earlier. But more than that . . . I don't want to hurry in life. One of the reasons I like to backpack is because there is no schedule each day other than walking. You eat when you're hungry and go to sleep when you're tired, and you don't answer calls or texts or emails or think about what you should be doing. You slow down. And in the slowing, you take in the beauty around you, you listen to the stories of your fellow hikers, you feel the pain and the strength of your body.

I'm reading a book called Sabbath in the Suburbs right now. These are some of my favorite quotes so far:

You want your children to have a spirit of service? A sense of the Holy? A curiosity and openness to the world? Cultivate those things for yourself. Let them see you do it. Become the parent and person you want to be. It's one of the most important things you can do for your child. (38)

Two months in, we've already botched the call to weekly rest. We've also had flashes of luminosity, in which we looked around and sighed with satisfaction. But those moments were fleeting. Despite these stops and starts, I have to think that Sabbath is worth the struggle. The victory is in showing up and making oneself available . . . Just as I seek to be present with my kids, not because every moment will feel holy and blessed but because holy and blessed moments don't happen unless I am present. (39)

[My aunt Sherry] once described the experience of waiting for an oncology appointment. "I can tell who's in the waiting room with cancer and who's healthy and just dealing with an iffy test of something. The people with cancer are the ones waiting there patiently. It's kind of peaceful. It's always the healthy people who come running in or who start tapping their feet or griping to the receptionist. We're the ones whose time may be short. But they're the ones who act like it." (56)

"If we refuse to rest until we are finished, we will never rest until we die." - Wayne Muller (qtd. 77)

It is difficult, counter-cultural, to be uninvolved. We feel bad for not giving our kids every opportunity to play sports, go to camps, go on mission trips, take lessons. These are all good things. Some of my favorite memories from my own childhood. But we also need to give ourselves permission to say no without the guilt that we are depriving our child of another learning/growing opportunity. There is value in slowing down. The lesson our kids may need to learn is how to be still. I love how our children's minister, Suzetta, encourages our kids to find the quiet place God put in each of us. Our Wednesday night kids know that stillness is a spiritual discipline. And that it requires practice.

And I need to practice as well, to surrender my to do lists for a good book, to push my kids in the swing, and to help Eydie find that dang pretend key.

happy birthday / happy easter

Happy birthday to my husband who always has to work on his birthday. (But he goes to work at a baseball field, so it's not that bad.) While he was coaching baseball, we were in Brownwood for Easter weekend at the lake. He joined us Sunday just in time for a family picture.

The next generation of cousins (minus Jude and Madelynn . . . we missed you!) lined up for a picture before the hunt. 

Sweet Gavers woke up from his nap in time to watch the action. He was happy just to see the big kids running around from the safety of his daddy's arms (and 6 ft. above the action).

And my sweet grandparents, who for years made this a place we all loved to visit, watched from the porch swing.

I've been busy lately getting ready for our seventh sale. It's coming up in just a few weeks so I have a long list of things I'm trying to cross off daily. During Lent I began (again) a habit of getting up earlier than my kids most mornings and doing some reading, writing, and coffee drinking. I love those quiet early mornings when my house is still dark, my family asleep, and I'm curled under a blanket. My hope is to continue this morning ritual which means I have to be disciplined about going to bed early enough that I can get up in the morning. I shall try.