Social Media Gratitude

I am a social media grumbler.  Part of it might be that I have trouble overcoming this platform where heavy and trivial go hand in hand.  Where else can you view a post about a friend losing a spouse sandwiched by pictures of paleo pancakes and an update about last night's Downton?  Moments like that make my shoulders hurt.  Part of it might be that despite my recent 31st birthday, I am actually an 80 year old woman who complains about those darn kids and their newfangled ways.  I still don't know the purpose of a "tweet."  I have a pretty tenuous relationship with technology.  I'll always remember googling "facebook" with my friend Dawn back in 2006.  And part of it might be that social media can be this giant vortex that sucks up time and brain space.  There are moments where I want to sign off from all of it, shut down the blog, deactivate Facebook, downgrade my phone, and spend my days writing my first novel and brewing kombucha out of Nourishing Traditions.  However, at this moment I am filled to the brim with gratitude for social media.

On my 31st birthday I received over a hundred posts, texts, emails, likes, comments, etc, from well wishers all over the world.  I received greetings from six continents, from Kazakstan to Kenya, Beaumont to Burma.  I heard from aunts, uncles, cousins, sisters, inlaws, mentors, roommates, neighbors, friends that I've known most of my life, friends that I've never met in person, people I haven't seen in years, people I saw just yesterday, people that I love dearly, and people that make me feel dearly loved. Some posts and texts made me laugh, some made me get little tears in my eyes from sweet words and many miles, all are still making me smile.  And I have to say, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.  I feel so surrounded by a community that stretches from here to there, and it's a beautiful feeling.

Every inch of my life was present in simple words and comments on Saturday, from every stage, every home, every group.  I realize that this is only made possible by the social media I complain about so often.  And while I haven't come to terms with my grumbles, I do recognize that my birthday was made a very special day because you all took the time to make a quick post, call or comment.  So, I won't sign off, but maybe I will still try my hand at brewing kombucha and writing a novel.  It's good to know that whatever I decide to try out, I have a pretty spectacular crew of support.  Thank you all.

Happy Birthday, Mogwai

Goodness me!  Veteran parents have warned me countless times that it all goes by in a flash.  But we were spoiled with itty bitty Aurelia whose baby days lingered.  Marguerite is such a different story.  It's like I blink and she's grown an inch.  This baby is becoming a kid far too quickly.  Even though her birthday was a week ago, I still shake my head in disbelief that my little redhead is 1 year old.

And man, I love this kid.

She is our child who rolled over at six weeks, pulled to stand at 6 months, and walked at 9.  And each milestone she hit, she'd give me her little impish grin like she was waiting for the perfect time to show off her new skill.

She is such a little riot (in fact, one of her many nicknames is Margariot).  She is a little whirlwind of energy and enthusiasm.  We call her our passionate child.  She is fiercely happy or fiercely angry.  But she is fiercely loving too, especially when it comes to Mama.

It is incredible to watch her grow.  When Aurelia was a baby, I would tell her to grow at "just the right pace."  And for her, that pace was slow and steady.  For Marguerite, the pace is an all out sprint.  Each day she picks up words and skills.  Today her sister taught her to play "Ring-Around-The-Rosey."  Yesterday she learned that a duck says "Quack" and a light turning on says "Click."  I know she will be my little one that graduates high school to my laments of how fast the years went.

In the meantime, I'll cherish her laugh, the kisses she blows, the hugs she gives, the way she grabs a book and crawls into my lap signing "more," the way she wants to be just like Aurelia, and all the wiggles and chaos that make up our little Mogwai.

Birthday Girl

Buddies

Baby Mac

The cake!

Not too sure about it. . . 

But obviously warmed up to it.

Big sister was a fan too. 

Kate made the One shirt.  So cute!

And we love that Joey's parents live close enough to be at these events!

Happy Birthday to my special little lady!

40 Days

I am on the threshold of a season of change.  But today is not the day to post about these upcoming changes.  Suffice to say I have been preparing my heart and mind for a lot of unknowns that we'll get to know in the next few days.  There is a lot of blog worthy material on deck.  Cryptic, huh?  Side note: We're not pregnant or anything like that. . . although I've had two people ask me if growing our family was part of my thought in choosing the word "Growth."  That is definitely not part of the plan for this next year.

Change is a great way to stimulate growth.  It forces us to look at things through a new lens, to change our norms, to try something new.  Of course there are big life changes like moves, marriage, and motherhood.  But sometimes change is subtle.  Sometimes it takes necessary changes in habits and holdups to help us move forward and grow.  I've been thinking about these subtle changes a lot recently.  What do I need to change in my life to help me grow?  What is holding me back?

Fittingly, today is Ash Wednesday.  Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of Lent, the 40 day period of fasting leading up to Easter.  Every year I join the throngs of people that give up something for 40 days as an act of sacrifice and and to prepare our hearts for celebrating Christ (I realize this is lent in it's simplest form).  In the past I've given up things like refined sugar, caffeine, Facebook, or my IPhone.  And I've found that after Easter, I am less dependent on those things.  It's a great feeling to be free of a dependence on something that was holding me back.  This year I am breaking with character by writing about what I am giving up as an act of accountability and confession.  'Cause I have to admit that I have a serious addiction, and it's name is HuluPlus.

I could explain it away for hours: It's only when Joey is gone.  I'm a busy mom and I need mindless moments after long days.  I only watch a few shows.  I only watch when the kids are asleep.  I'll cut back, I can quit anytime.

But here are the facts, the embarrassing facts: I watch about at least an hour of TV each night after the girls are in bed.  The list of shows I watch is growing and includes shows that I don't even care about or like (i.e. Raising Hope).  I put off things I need and want to do in order to stay caught up on shows.  When I told my sister that I was thinking about giving up TV for Lent, she said, "Are you sure you can do that?"  But I have to try.  I read less, write less, and sleep less when I let my TV addiction get the best of me.

It's hard to foster a spirit of growth when I spend my nights doing absolutely nothing.  And I am tired of being stagnant.  With that I say, "Welcome Lent."  40 days without TV, 40 days to focus, 40 days. . . I can do this.

Growth

Welp, 2013 is well underway.  And here I sit, resolving to revisit this little space more often.  Blogs, they're great for stretching out my fingers and taking the time to really ponder what is on my heart.  BUT in this season in life, there are many days that I don't want to ponder, I just want to veg out and watch Switched at Birth on Hulu.  This season of life is busy, which means that I NEED to step back and wrestle through my thoughts or else they'll just fly right by.  Therefore, I'm back at this forsaken screen, greeting any of you readers who might still be out there with a "Happy New Year!"

Quick glance back at 2012: It was such a hectic year.  While ringing in the new year on Jan. 1, I was trying to think of anything significant that happened during the year. . .as I held my 10 month old daughter, the one who was born in 2012. . . Poor Marguerite, such a second child.  And it was a really full year.  Marguerite was born.  Aurelia took her first steps in July.  Marguerite took her first steps in December (crazy, right?).  We had adventures to B.C. and N.C.  We celebrated my 30th birthday.  We had a lot of fun times, a lot of challenging times, and a lot of changes.  It was a good year.

Now let's look forward.  I'm happy for a fresh start and new possibilities.  I've never been a huge New Year's resolution person.  I would fall into the category of people who give up on their resolution around January 14th.  Instead, I choose a word that I want to embrace for the year.  And it's interesting how that word really becomes a theme for that year (see determination, joy, and faith).  When I considered this year's word, I took into account areas where I wanted to see growth in my life.  I want to grow into a better me. . . a better follower of Christ, a better wife, a better a mother.  I want my children to grow into little ladies who are honoring, gentle, confident, and a thousand other things that all parents want for their kids.  I want my marriage to continue to grow and bring Joey and I closer as we celebrate a decade as Team Hawkins.  I want to grow into a better writer, a more consistent writer.  I want Aurelia to grow. . . as in literally grow (more on that later).  And I realized that my year already has a strong theme.  I want GROWTH.  And that can be painful, and hard, and tiring.  But it can also be enriching and empowering.  Growing is a necessary part of life, and I want to embrace it.  I want to celebrate it.  I want to work at it.  So, here I go.  I'll keep you posted on how it's going.

Out of the strong came forth sweetness

Like many of you, I have been preparing for a day filled with family, friends and food tomorrow.  My sister Sarah and I always volunteer to make pies.  My favorite is a pecan pie using Lyle's Golden Syrup instead of corn syrup.  If you're not familiar with Lyle's, its a sugar syrup that was first introduced to me by a 5 year old in Kabul who requested it for her pancakes.  Her response to my, "What's Lyle's?" was an incredulous look and question, "Where are you from?"  Obviously, I had just crawled out from under a rock in her opinion.  Her mom explained that it was very popular in Africa (where this 5 year old had grown up) and available anywhere with a population of Brits like Marmite, PG Tips, Cadburry, HP Sauce, and the rest of the long list of food items UKers must have on hand.  Not wanting to disappoint, I've kept Lyle's in the pantry ever since.

But what I love about Lyle's more than the taste is the packaging.  It comes in a tin that looks like this:

Here's a closer look:

Yep, that's a lion carcass with bees flying out of it with the words, "Out of the strong came forth sweetness."  This image is taken from the story of Samson in Judges 14 in which he comes across a lion he had killed that had become a home to some bees.  The story isn't particularly meaningful in the grand scheme of things, but for some reason Abram Lyle decided to attach it to his product.  And for some reason those words resonate with me: Out of the strong came forth sweetness.

I love Thanksgiving.  I love reading the daily thanksgivings of friends on Facebook.  Side note: A lot of you are thankful for Pumpkin Spice Lattes.  I love planning and cooking.  I even love doing the whole round the table, what I'm thankful for moment.  And I love that Thanksgiving requires me to step back and look for the sweetness in the hard, the disappointing, the sad, and the strong.

Historically, Thanksgiving is a tough time of year for me.  My first miscarriage was days before Thanksgiving.  My mom died shortly after Thanksgiving.  My uncle died quite unexpectedly and tragically the day before Thanksgiving.  And we moved from Kabul days before Thanksgiving.  Even typing out these things stirs up strong emotions in my heart.  But just like the pecan pie I'll bake in the morning, these strong emotions are steeped in sweetness.  While we mourn the loss of loved ones, we celebrate lives lived well and are thankful.  While I don't understand our pregnancy loss journey, I think of how that time prepared me for my precious, little Aurelia.  And while I yearn for Kabul (especially today since Joey is currently sleeping on a toshak in the Hess home with our old comforter), I think of carrying a child who needed more modern healthcare and think Gig Harbor's not so bad.  When I step back and look at the bigger picture of life, I am overwhelming grateful.  Life is filled with sweetness.

Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.

(1 Thessalonians 5:18 ESV)

And what post is complete without some unrelated pictures of cute kids?

PS. You can pick up some Lyle's at World Market.

Recovering

Oh, October.  I am glad to see that month go.  We were plagued by sickness in the Hawkins Home.  I recently told Joey that I don't know what I would do if I got sick while he was gone.  Well, I found out multiple times last month.  First, it was an early morning call to my parents asking them to come get the girls and take me to the ER.  I've never had a kidney infection before, it was awful. And I'm so thankful for friends and family that helped with the girls and meals while I recovered.

Two weeks later I texted my dad that Aurelia had thrown up, followed by a text that I had joined her and Marguerite needed to get out of there stat.  Little side note: I had gone to a wedding the night before and danced the night away with many of my closest and dearest friends, party of the century.  The reports of people dropping like flies Sunday and Monday are rising quickly.  Maybe it was the Taco Wagon?  Whatever it was, it was violent.  I'll spare you any other details.  The good news is that I met my weightless goal.

Throw in a couple random fevers for the girls, roseola for Marguerite, an uptick in reflux wake-ups for Aurelia, and many sleepless nights for this Mama, blah.  As I said, I am glad October is over.  For some reason I feel that ushering in a new month will help us start afresh and leave all the sickies behind.  Please, please, pretty please.

The month wasn't a complete wash.  We had some good times.  Hit some new milestones.  Took some cute photos.  Here are a few for your enjoyment:

This is how Aurelia poses for photos now.  

Sick day for Aurelia.  We spent a good part of the day on the couch.

This kid is just too cute. 

Marguerite's turn to be sick.

But she bounced back and started standing independently.  Standby for news of her first steps in the next week or two.

Sisters dressed in plaid for St. Andrews Sunday.

All the dressed up members of our family.  

And now we're prepping for a busy time of appointments, holidays, and {most importantly} Joey coming home!

Words Don't Fit The Picture

We ran across this installment by Ron Terada on our trip to Vancouver, BC in July.  I've mulled over the words in this picture many times in the last months.  Because a picture is worth a thousand words, but what if no words fit the picture?  Or what if there are too many words to fit the picture?  Or what if I can't think of a caption that highlights all the ins and outs of that particular moment in less than a paragraph.  I've always had a problem with being a little wordy, even when it comes to photos.


As I've scrolled through photos from the last decade trying to will myself to print some to hang on the bare walls of our home, I realized that there are too many snapshots of life that are worth more than a thousand words and the words don't fit the picture. Like this one:

I could just call this Fondue night with the Hesses.  But here's my thousand words: This isn't even our family.  This is our first apartment in Kabul. These are some of our favorite kids.  This is before we shaved Alia's head.  I love Nico's spider web tattoo on his face, such a cool kid, one of Joey's best friends.  Later that night we watched Tale of Despereaux with the Hess kids and the sound was broken and it went from really quiet to super loud and made Tara scream.  I read a chapter from that book to the third grade class at the International School of Kabul earlier that week.  The kids asked me if I'd ever met a Native American.  My friend Adrianne had just cut my hair (still love that cut).    There's a microwave in that picture, we haven't owned a microwave since that apartment.  And it's winter in Kabul 'cause there's a bukhari in the background. . . I love winter in Kabul.  I hate winter in Kabul.  When I was in eastern Washington last weekend inhaling smoke from the wildfires, it made me miss Kabul with it's poor air quality and campfire scent in the winter.  I miss toshaks.  I miss fondue.  I miss Swiss people.  Oh, and I was pregnant when this was taken.  That was one of my favorite shirts, I bought it in Jaipur, India. 

See what I mean?  Such a silly little photo that isn't of much, and I probably won't hang it above my mantle, but there are so many words. . . seriously, I could have kept going.
Or how about theses ones:

Great photo, huh?  This is on our way to Kabul.  This picture breathes excitement, unknown, and adventure.  And although it would look great in a cute little fame, it just looks like a picture of us with the Tower of Big Ben in the background.  I'd always want to explain the deeper meaning, the little part of our smile that isn't just posing for a sightseeing photo.  

This is the first time I held Aurelia.  She was so brand new, but almost a day old.  And she was just about to go in for her shunt surgery.  Can you tell I'd been crying?  I did a lot of crying in those early days.  There were too many tender moments.  

At this exact moment in life, I feel like the words that I'm writing don't fit the picture that is me.  That might sound a little sad, but it's not meant to be at all.  It's more that I don't feel like I can accurately describe where I am at right now in less than 1000 words.  I've written 5 unposted posts.  Posts about things I promised I'd never do before I was a mom (i.e. I'll never write a "mom blog". . . oops).  Posts about my second baby who is not so much a baby anymore.  Posts about living life, loving fall, learning lessons.  And you'll read those posts, I promise.  But I wanted to explain why I'm having trouble hitting publish.  I feel like life is full and happy.  I feel like I'm learning what it means to be an adult, a friend, a follower of Christ, a woman of prayer, a person who makes mistakes, a mother of two kids that are growing too fast, a wife to an amazing husband who sent me flowers to celebrate the start of my favorite season.  I feel like now that I'm in my 30s, it's about time I grew up.  And growing up is hard to put into words.  But I'm going to keep trying.  And if you read this little space of mine, I guess you're along for the ride.