Update

I'm not posting these days. Obviously. It just seems like I don't have the time. While this is technically true, we all know that we can always make time for the things that are most important to us. So maybe this isn't important enough anymore. Or maybe it's all I can do to take care of my house and kids... and cook, and exercise, and run the ESL program, and make time for friends and Biblestudy... and all this while I take care of my "mommy's girl" baby.

I feel torn in a million directions every day. I hate nursing but Beret loves it. I love cheese but Beret hates it. I want to be outside but it's stinkin' cold. I want to see my friends but I want to be left alone. I want to help other people but I want help myself. I want to sleep but I hate going to bed early. I love to cook but I can't eat half of what I make.

The list could go on. But whatever. I'm not foolish enough to believe that I'm the only one who feels this way. And I don't have any conclusions. So I guess I don't know what to say.

The Best Part of Christmas

I'm planning on starting to blog again regularly very soon. I promise.

Twice the JOY

I really didn't know anything about Sara Groves before tonight. But she was giving a Christmas concert at my church and a bunch of my girlfriends were going. A night out with Christmas music and friends? It sounded good to me.

There are about 20 amazing things I could report from tonight: Sara is insightful, honest, funny, and grounded. And she clearly talks with God.

But here's what inspired me to type tonight: she sang a song that she wrote for her 3 closest friends- the ones who have carried her and the ones she, in turn, has helped carry. Through the pain.

The refrain of the song was this: "Life with you is half the burden and twice the joy." A similar version of the song is here. Perhaps the only thing greater than joy is the opportunity to experience joy with the ones we love. How appropriate for this season.

Life with you is half the burden and twice the joy.

Nothing

Well, it's been quite a long stretch since I've written anything. I have lots of things to write and report, but every time I sit down, nothing comes out. I'm even having trouble emailing friends. I hope to be up and typing again soon.

The Cheese Addiction

When I initially thought about cutting out all dairy products, I was like "ok, no milk on my cereal, no yogurt with my fruit, no cheese on my sandwiches." Ha. If only.

I cannot believe how much I'm not eating these days. Tonight I made chicken quesadillas-- I had to stop myself from eating a wedge at least six times! oh the melted cheese, the sour cream!

Well, the reality is that Beret is markedly better now that I'm off dairy. I regret this decision about 10 times a day, but at least I have a happier baby. She giggles so much more now. And I dream about cheese pizzas each night.

On the upside, I went to the doctor last week and have apparently lost about 20 pounds since the morning of my delivery. To be honest, I'm not sure if I could have lost that much weight if I was still able to eat cheese and butter-- no amount of exercise could counteract my voracious appetite for broccoli cheese soup, grilled cheese sandwiches, or creamy mashed potatoes. (I KNOW!) mmm... yummy, yummy, yummy. I can't wait for the day when Beret decides she's done nursing: I'll be throwing myself a pizza party :)

Sidebar

I love photographs. I love that my husband is a great photographer. I love this age of digital photography where we can take a hundred shots in order to get one good one. I love that I have a family blog so that our friends and loved ones who live far away can keep up with our kids and our lives.

Having said that, sometimes more is just that: more. Since having my girls, I've felt this pressure to record every moment of their lives. Maybe I feel this way because we have family members living on several different continents. Maybe I feel this way because Facebook now encourages us to create a photo album for every single birthday, home renovation, and playdate that passes us by. But whatever the reason, maybe more isn't more; maybe less is more.

I put together some photo albums for my parents a couple years ago. Yes, there were hundreds of photos to organize. But considering my folks had four kids with birthdays each year, and Christmases, and summer vacations, the number of commemorative photos was surprisingly lacking. True, technology was quite different 20+ years ago. But still, there were times when a whole year of my life could only be represented by three or four photos. At the time, I was shocked. But perhaps the other extreme is just as shocking. I literally have thousands of pictures from Lily's first two years of life. It's an overwhelming feeling. There are times when I think my daughters have to be dressed up and cute each moment of each day because we never know when we might want to snap a picture. Honestly, this can be grueling.

So I guess what I've been thinking lately is this: In general, more is more, more is good. It's good to fill up our days with meaningful moments, intentional actions, and quality interactions. But there's a limit. And if I get to the point where I'm more concerned that I record a moment in history instead of living in it, then maybe that's too much. Then maybe less is more. Living the perfect life through a camera lens at the expense of getting in the shot myself... that's probably not worth it.

Deliberateness- yes, that's a word; at least, it should be

Today seemed kind of boring to me, but it was deliberate. So, since I haven't posted a "deliberate" day in a while, I thought I'd record this one:

7:15- my alarm went off. I ignored it.
7:30- Beret started fussing. I didn't ignore her. I got her fed and dressed before Lily awoke.
8:00- I got Lily up and dressed and let her watch PBS while she drank her morning Chocolate Milk (mostly milk, very little choc)
9:00- I drove the girls to my mom's house so that Lils could spend the morning with my mom... and so that I could enjoy a morning pretending I only had one kid!
10:00- I had to wake B up so that I could take us to a doctor's appt for me. It went well.
11:00- Ran to the grocery store for some essentials.
12:30- Mom brought Lily home and I got both girls sufficiently "fed"
1:00- Keith drove by in his truck- Lily and I stood outside and waved as he drove by :)
1:30- the girls napped. I folded 4 loads of laundry, then napped a bit myself
3:30- Lily woke up from her nap and started calling for me. I crawled in bed with her and we read books for a while
5:00- Sloppy Joes and french fries for dinner
5:30- I took the girls to the bank and the drug store- they love being in the car, and this gave K the opportunity to check his email in peace :)
6:30- The Shred. Thanks to Jillian Michaels. And to Keith, for holding Beret.
8:00- Lily in bed
8:30- Beret in bed
9:00- The Office

All in all, a good day. And I didn't have to plan this out ahead. So maybe being deliberate with my time is getting easier? Maybe. Or more likely, I'm finding satisfaction in the small things.