My Katie (Emily Sue); The Boss of Pipestoneolsondorf

I don't tell my wife often enough that she is a great blessing to me as a wife.
And even though "My Emily" doesn't brew beer, buy cattle or drive a wagon (although she does pull one with two little boys in it), she does rival even Dr. Luther's wife Katie in being a loving wife and kind mother.

I Love You E.
Love, J
P.S. BTW, Katharina would have turned 511 years old today!

Surrogacy -- the "new" source of female exploitation

I'm shell-shocked by thirty minutes of browsing recent news on surrogacy. I feel like I was totally wrapped up in a hopscotch game, tossing the little nubs, skipping from number to number, humming to myself in my own little happy world, only to turn around and realize that the real games going on are the gladiators being slaughtered by lions in the Colosseum a half-block away. And in this case, some of the women participating--gladiators, if you will--are making public statements about how great it is, how giving, what an act of service this is. They don't realize how much this is hurting them and all their sisters who are mothers. What have we done? When children become choices, no acts involving procreation are to be judged--and I fear surrogacy in all its iterations are only the beginning of alternate reproduction techniques (ART) we shall see in our lifetimes. Lord, have mercy.


So much beauty. So much history. So much wreckage and destruction and bloodshed.

Diaper Bag Dilemma

I'm sure she's a really great mom. But there's not actually a kid in that stroller. She's at home with the au pair.

I didn't think this would be so difficult.

I've been browsing the web for weeks, trying to find potential diaper bags to replace the ones I've completely worn out or rejected. I've narrowed my search to diaper bag backpacks, for pretty much one reason: any other diaper bag (including the freebie sling I use all the time and otherwise think is terrific -- and NOT just because it was free! Okay, that's a big part of it), including messenger bags and one- or two-strapped totes, manages to end up swinging gaily around my torso when I bend over to tend to my sons. No, I haven't actually tried every messenger or tote out there. But my trusty, practical purses, which sometimes double as quickie diaper catch-alls (one diaper, mini-pack of wipes, travel tube of cream, one set of toddler underwear), always manage to get in my way at the most inconvenient times. So in short, I want my arms free without any interference from a bag. Kapish?

My search for the bag, however, has hit an existential snag. I've recovered from price-tag shock ($90 and up, lots of up, for most backpacks). I've even resigned myself to limited options (most diaper bags are totes, not backpacks). What I can't wrap my brain around is the complete dichotomy in backpack choices. There's ultimately two choices:

1. The fashion-savvy mom's uber-chic satchel that she only uses to run to the corner market while paparazzi click away from across the street. Words like "nappies" and "organic" typically appear in the product description, which is dwarfed by the length of the "options" list, which includes patterns like "zebra," "uptown stripe," "sunset dragon roll," and the ever-present "Pink" (because otherwise no one will know you're a woman).


Petunia Pickle Bottom Boxy Diaper Bag Moment in Morocco. The first part is the brand name; the last is the pattern. I kid you not.

I'm probably just incredibly sheltered. I mean, we live in Prarieland, Midwest, where the closest baby items to be found appear in the linoleumed aisles of Pamida. But despite my attraction to pretty patterns, vivid colors, and eco-friendly language, it can't overcome the truth: the bags are too small or too flimsy or too un-child-friendly (did you see the silver hardware on that thing? Brilliant. Toddler tugs + sharp edges = ... do they need new consumer product evaluators?) or too easily trashed (cream canvas? That'll look nice for about two seconds, even if your kids aren't the marker-wielding types. I mean, will you use it in public?) for most moms to actually, you know, USE. So thanks, cutesy-named companies, for thinking I'm dumb enough to shell out big bucks for a diaper holder that would last me one-thousandth as long as a non-biodegradable, indestructible plastic bag from Walmart. Just because it's pretty. Enjoy that option, Natalie Portman; let me know how long it takes you to cycle through all 117 styles.

2. The hiking parent's tundra tote. You know, the one that could last you through a few summit-reaching treks up Kilimanjaro. And a few months being dragged through desert sands and mountain mud behind an Army jeep. While being attacked by pit bulls. And along with this kind of toughness comes the downside: I'm not a man. For yes, for every one new-mom, ex-winner of the Mr. Olympia Women's Competition , there's ten thousand Diaper Dudes. And I think it's great that dads are so into fatherhood. Really. But that they're into it so much that they want their own diaper bags?



My choice of camo, brown-black, or machete. I just don't think this is for me. *Sigh.*

There you have it: my dilemma. So when you see me with an Eddie Bauer backpack in a few months, you'll know why I've added hot-pink stripes. So you'll know I'm a woman. Who can scale mountains with children in tow.

P's Expanding Vocabulary

Actually.
As in, "I'm going to read books. Actually, I'm going to play with my cars."

Sorts.
As in (when giving Uncle Brian a tour of his room) "I have all sorts of toys."

Disappointed.
As in, "Mommy, you'll be disappointed in me. I pooped my pants."

Playtime in Minnesota

We headed out to the playground yesterday, as the temps were balmy (20s), the sun was shining, no winds plagued us, and P had to try the "new" red snowpants. S even loved the sun (despite appearances to the contrary). Today we rolled around in the backyard, but alas, no pics of that (except in my memory). What fun are boys and snow!

Fifty Nifty!

Feelin So Fly Like a Cheesehead

I think this just about sums up my thoughts on the Packers' season.

One Word…BLING!

 

I have no hair. What do you think of that?

 

Books, Books, Books

What you can't see, due to all those cashmere folds, is the kid passed out after breastfeeding. With my little lug tugging away, I can excuse reading my way through the Library of Congress.


Ha, ha, ha. Almost 20 days after my last post and I'm STILL 0-24 on posting pics of the boys. Don't worry, though; J has the latest on his brand spankin' new laptop and I'm hoping he'll zip away and get that video posted (preferably in the next decade) of P singing "Fifty Nifty United States" with Grandma so it can become the next YouTube phenomenon.

But I digress. Aside from normal small children busy-ness, I've realized in the last few weeks that I've stumbled across more books in the last six months that have radically changed my outlook than I have since my formal education (which, truth be told, rarely gave me boosts of brain-esteem. More like urges to hit snooze... like twenty times. Or to grab a blow torch. To burn the books, of course! Sick minds, you.). So here's a few that some of you might enjoy, too (now, or later, as the case may be):

Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University. Yes, I know it's not just a book; we took the class last fall and it kicked our rears. Now I'd like to think we're not paying the stupid tax anymore. And anybody with tenacity can do this! Awesome.

Maud Hart Lovelace's Betsy-Tacy books. I only read the last five (basically the high school books plus the last one), but they are terrific. I somehow missed these growing up; I had Laura Ingalls, Anne of Green Gables, Emily of New Moon, and several other lovable heroines to cherish, but my daughter--God willing! no shocking news announcement here!--will also have Betsy (who also lived in Minnesota!).

Malcolm Gladwell's Outliers. My kids will practice their instruments and study 10,000 hours just because of this book. And maybe because of Amy Chiu'sBattle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, but I haven't read it yet. In the meantime, lap up this gem.

Zac Bissonnette's Debt-Free U: How I Paid for an Outstanding College Education Without Loans, Scholarships, or Mooching Off My Parents. This book is so good it's sick. I want to pass out free copies to every college-bound kid I know. It's hilarious, the author is hot (hey--only the truth here), and it can save readers from six-digit debt--it's a win-win. The only downside is this book came out about ten years too late.

Michael Gurion's The Wonder of Boys. Okay, so the last half of this book wasn't so great, when Gurion's fixation with the biological order attempts rhetorical gymnastics to show that, hey, if your son is gay, that's completely normal and predictable. (It'd be funny if his logic wasn't so warped.) Now THAT'S a great way to plug a book! Until I run across another book on boys that's decent, the first half of this will have to do. It really made me think about relationships, including mine with J. Boys really do think differently than girls.

Willa Cather's Death Comes for the Archbishop. I love Willa Cather. And as my copies of her books are boxed and irretrievable in the basement (pending the final finishing), I had to get my fix--and why not through one of her classics that I'd never read? And boy, have I been missing out. This book is gorgeous. I can feel sand on my tongue right now just thinking about it. And I want to die in New Mexico.

Dr. Jill Lekovic's Diaper-Free By Three. I literally grabbed it off the shelf as I was running by (my typical library-browsing approach now that I have small children), meaning to skim it for tips on tweaking P's potty habits. Holy crow, every mom of a six-month-old should read this! I'm sure other books have better step-by-step directions--Lekovic prefers the anecdote-style how-to over the list--but the theory of early potty training hits a home-run here. She reviews the medical literature and shows how potty training that begins after the age of two is, pun intended, in its infancy in terms of early training and its thousands-of-years history. I literally started reading this yesterday and got so excited that S started sitting on the potty an hour later. We tried it twice again today, too! He squirms, but that's normal--I'm just super-pumped that we're starting now, so he'll be essentially diaper-free sooner (like very feasibly by the end of THIS--2011--year!). Disclaimer: don't freak out if you think I'm a nutso mom--read the book! Even if you have no kids! SOMEBODY you know will benefit from your new-found knowledge.

Jennie Chancey and Stacy McDonald's Passionate Housewives Desperate for God. This one's the real kicker. I actually read it about a year and a half ago, but I re-read it last November just to soak in its Scriptural reminders (and cultural-debunking) again. As a woman fairly recently released from "the grind," as the world calls it, and slowly learning the amazing, daunting vocation of motherhood, I needed to hear from other moms that staying home to make a home actually does benefit my children, my husband, and me--and NOT because everything is hunky-dory. Far from it. "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.'" 2 Corinthians 12:9. I couldn't have read this book three years ago; honestly, I'm still struggling to accept the self-lessness God blesses me with as I get to train and love our sons. But He's pruning me, slowly but surely. (Of course, I've got the whole black-heart-of-a-sinner thing forever on this earth, but all you REAL Lutherans get my drift, in that very non-Reformed, non-works-righteousness kind of pruning. You know, the white-garment, God's-own-child-I-gladly-say-it kind of baptismal righteousness.)

I hope to post more books up here for you all to peruse and enjoy--probably not on a regular basis (ha, ha, ha!), but every now and again. Now excuse me, I have to go reread me some Bo Giertz before I turn in (and dream about all the books coming through interlibrary loan).

Haircuts and New Looks

P and I got our hairs (that's for you, Dad) snipped on Monday morning. Shallow being that I am, I always feel like a million dollars after Julie works her magic on my limp-as-a-feather, non-color mop. (And after a highlight? Holy cats. I can't stay away from mirrors.) J and I agree, though, that the one that really looks terrific after a haircut is P. He's beyond adorable with his straight-locked little blond 'do! And though S has awhile to go before his first cut, his hair already looks adorable... he gets total bed hair, and his hair waves with the eensiest bit of moisture. What a cutie. I've half a mind to go wake up the both of 'em just to kiss their little noggins and stroke those precious hairs!

In other makeover news, J bought a new laptop today. After at least six months of power cord issues (Old Laptop: "Will I take volts from the wall or from the battery? Eh, who cares? Lost docs, lost emails, lost Packer game connection... really, dude, I just want to sleep."), Old Laptop finally shot c***s, just in time, too. J had just received generous Christmas gifts from the congregation AND the Packers just made the playoffs. AND he nabbed a $400 closeout that had everything we wanted (thanks for the tips, sister J, Consumer Reports, and Kim Komando)! Yay for a computer that, well, works!

We're going to try this again.

Hiya, New Year folk. (I have no idea what that means. I just made it up.) After months and months of nothing from our blog, we're going to "man up" and try again. I've got approximately 1,000 pictures from the last few months I'm hoping to upload... eventually. All of you faithful readers (like our immediate family) know our home computer (well, and J's work computer) have been slowly dying. Our trusty Dell is almost 7, and J's HP is almost 5--which translates to, what, 87 and 95, respectively, in desktop and laptop years?--and both have major issues, but I digress. (I'll just add that this little updating here took me 20 minutes. In the life of a young mom with two kids under three, dirty dishes, dirty laundry, blah blah blah you get the drift, 20 minutes on the computer is FOREVER. No exaggeration. If it's 20 minutes oogling books on the Amazon site, that's one thing. Photo/editing frustration is another. But more on that some other time.)

The good news is MERRY CHRISTMAS (Day 10!) and HAPPY NEW YEAR! And my New Year's resolution, other than keeping the kitchen counter by the back door clear, is to get this baby hoisted to its knees and shuffling back to the track. Your prayers are appreciated.



Ahhh. The essence of new starts... untracked snow.