A person for every pumpkin

We went to the Dallas Arboretum yesterday with a bunch of friends... all I'm saying is that there are a lot of stay at home moms in the metroplex, and apparently all of us are willing to sacrifice our sanity to let our children look at pumpkins.

I didn't take many pictures... the 80+ degree weather kind of ruined my fall mood. But, here are a few to hold us over until it's cool enough for an outdoor photo shoot.

Abby tried picking up most of the pumpkins... I feel sorry for whoever has to restack them each night!

Abby and Miller were both thrilled by the water fountains. Aren't those little blonde heads cute?

Let me just say that trying to get three 2 year olds to pose for a picture is impossible. Unless you want photos of their little bottoms.

Clarity

I realized today that it has been nearly 3 years since I've attended a funeral. (No, I have no idea why or how I ended up on this train of thought.) Three years doesn't seem like a long time until I started thinking backwards and it appears that this may be the longest stretch I've gone without a funeral since junior high school. Sure, travesty and natural disasters and terrorism have happened in those three years, but nothing so close to home that I sat in a church grieving. I should count my blessings, I know, but that isn't what I was doing.

Where, you are probably thinking, is this going? Oddly enough I'm not headed down some teary lane. Actually I was thinking about how I always leave funerals with a complete clarity of mind and senses. Do you know what I mean? Where you have cried until there are no tears left, and when you take that first step out of the church or away from the graveside, everything just seems brighter and clearer? You notice the amazing colors of the trees and sky. You actually hear the birds singing. The air smells fresher. You feel a little taller, a little lighter, a little more in touch with every thing and every person around you. God seems a little closer, a little more of a physical presence than a distant idea.

I was thinking today about how I wish I could live every day of my life with the appreciation and understanding I feel after funerals. Not so much a "stop and smell the roses" lifestyle, but more an overall awareness of the bigger picture. I don't want to live my life being afraid that each day could be the last, but rather live it humbled by the fact that there is a day at all. That miracle of miracles, I'm alive. And just like the day after a funeral, nothing else really matters.

Christmas Idea #1

Some of you out there like to get a head start on Christmas shopping... I understand the desire, I've tried to do it, I just can't. I've actually been successful before- I had all my shopping done before Thanksgiving. Do you know what happened? I just ended up buying more things after Thanksgiving. I can't not shop or make gifts or wrap presents in the month of December.

So instead of trying to do my shopping now I'm just going to start posting ideas for gifts when they come to me. I'm hoping by December 1st I'll have a great list of presents and I won't spend countless hours wandering helplessly through the stores.

Gift Idea #1

For Abby- boxes and boxes of band aids. The kid loves band aids. All sizes, colors, shapes. She sticks them on bruises, scrapes, perfectly healthy skin, and on every stuffed animal that has a loose thread. Perfect stocking stuffer. Immediately useful for any paper cuts that come from opening presents.

Whirlwind Weekend

Why has it taken me nearly a week to make a single post? Because the past few days have been entirely too hectic. Here is a recap.

Thursday was Matt's birthday. Unfortunately I had to teach class in Dallas and then I picked up my friend Anna from DFW around 10pm. Not much birthday celebration time.

Friday morning I said goodbye to Matt and Abby so that Anna and I could begin the roadtrip to Bandera. We got to San Antonio around 2, checked into the hotel, changed clothes and left for the start of reunion weekend. Nerves were so rampant that I actually burned my arm on the top of an iron. It's a pretty big burn... not the memento I would have chosen, but it's apparently going to stick around.

Friday night consisted of happy hour at the 11th street bar- found directly behind, across from, and diagonal from churches. Then several of us went to dinner where I almost punched a Frenchman. No really, a guy from France was there (what is he doing in Bandera, anyway?) and he was incredibly rude (talk about living up to stereotypes) and it took everything to hold me down. Then we headed to the homecoming football game where the high school students look much younger than I ever remember being. So we ditched after halftime and went to Bandera's new wine and cheese bar. Sounds fancy, doesn't it? Let me say it like this then: we went to Bandera's new wine and cheese bar that is next door to the Family Dollar. There... that should clear up any misconceptions. Actually it was a pretty nice place. It'd make it somewhere like Denton, but I don't hold much hope for Bandera.

Saturday started with a great breakfast and wonderful friends. You know how movies always show the outcast kids being super smart and cool 10 years later? Well, art imitates life. Among the 6 of us that went to school together, and a few significant others, we have some amazing professions, fancy job titles, and hilarious stories to tell.

Saturday ended with the official "high school reunion" which completely eradicated any remaining "funk" I had lingering. All I'm going to say is that Matt and I don't have matching drink koozies and that makes me proud.

Sunday was a quick drive up I-35 and a stop at DFW to send Anna back home to Illinois.

Overall it was a good weekend. I caught up with some very cool people that I've always thought of fondly. And I became ever more appreciative of my husband and my life.

Only 10 more years till the next reunion... I should start getting in shape now!

For Matt...

from your little girl.

Box of Love

Tomorrow will be Matt's 32nd birthday. We don't have a whole lot of birthday traditions around here... every year's celebration is different from the one before... but there is one thing I love. Matt's first birthday after we were married- his 26th- I decided to write what I loved about him on a piece of paper. I wrote 1 reason I loved him for each of his 26 years, and then I stuffed them all into this little red box. Well, we still have the box, and as of tonight it now holds 32 things that I love about Matt.

To tell the truth, Matt probably thinks much less of this tradition than I do, but I take comfort in knowing that I've put into words how I feel about him. I love that each year I get to sit down and write out one new thing that makes my heart grow fonder. And I've got to tell you- any time I'm mad at him all it takes is a glance in the box to remember the good stuff.

I hope to continue this tradition every year for the rest of our lives... I hope I have to find a bigger box one day. Each year I pull all of the notes out and reread them... some are eternal things, some are more specific to that year of our lives, but all of them are examples of what a great man Matt is.

So if you're in the market for a new tradition then consider creating a box of love for someone else.

Doubled

I spent last Saturday morning having brunch with the dorm girls. Six of us lived either as roommates, suitemates, or across the hall from each other my first year at college. We still manage to get together at least once a year and for nearly every major occasion- and this past weekend marked our 10 year anniversary together! Except instead of there being 6 people in attendance- there were 12... 4 tough little boys and 2 sweet baby girls joined us this year. I don't think any of us imagined the day we'd be introducing our children to each other.

It was a good day. Never do I laugh so much as I do when I'm with these 5 women.

I swear we didn't tell the kids they could only play with rocks... that's just what they did.
And Cate made me overwhelmingly happy by flashing this face... a true copy of her daddy.

Slideshow

How is it possible that kids can look so different so quickly? I remember looking at Abby when she turned 1 and thinking how big she was... now I look at those pictures and think that she was so tiny. I guess it's all a matter of perspective, huh?

This one is mainly meant for the grandparents but if you want to spend your 10 minutes of free time watching pictures of my kid-- then enjoy!

(Make sure you have your speakers turned on, and pause the music at the bottom of the blog.)

Weekend Greatness

Some really good stuff happened this weekend, so here's a recap:

- Abby and I spent fun time with good friends at Owen's 2 1/2 birthday party.

- I managed to turn a giant pile of tulle into 3 adorable baby tutus. So yes, maybe I was making them for twins, not triplets, but I just wanted Jenn to have the best possible color combo she could for their pictures :)

- My oldest niece Kristen turned 13... that means I'm the aunt of a teenager (now I'm bound to be old and uncool).

- I found a pair of new shoes that I absolutely loved and after trying to decide whether or not I should really spend the $ on them, I decided to go for it... only to find out as the cashier rang the shoes up that they were on sale--- for $2.99. Nope, you didn't misread that, I actually bought a pair of high heel shoes for $3.22 with tax included! The cashier was as shocked as you and I both... she immediately went to the back to see if she could find some in her size.

- Matt and I were able to sit at church yesterday and witness our sweet friend Heather get baptized. Baptisms always make me cry, but being able to watch as Heather- 9 1/2 months pregnant- confessed her love for the Lord had me bawling. Add on top of that the fact that our church is awesome and allows each person to choose whomever they want to actually baptize them (instead of requiring that a pastor perform the ceremony). So watching Heather's wonderful husband David pull her back up out of the water was especially touching.

All in all, an amazing weekend.

One Happy Client

Here is Abby displaying her new "dress". So far she's found that it's super fun to wear when running in circles and while doing her "super kick"... unfortunately, it also attracts the wrong kind of attention from Troy the cat... he seems to think the dress is his personal toy.

Oh, and in case you're wondering what shoes you wear with a tutu- barefeet or chucks are the options at our house.

Procrastination Equals Productivity

Here are my accomplishments today:

- a load of dishes
- 3 loads of laundry

- a grocery store run

- put Abby down for her nap on time

- cooked dinner and had it ready when Matt came home

- created the bow which I previously posted

- and made this perfect tutu (which will have to wait until the morning for Abby to discover)

Amazing that I did so much and still managed to not complete the one thing I needed to do: grading papers. I actually worked my butt off avoiding work.

Newest Obsession

The picture above is my latest creation. Thanks to Heather I'm now addicted, and I mean ADDICTED, to making bows for Abby. If you've seen how much hair my child has, then you know that this hobby is actually a useful one. Since I already went overboard buying ribbon in every color I came across, I thought I might need to find another ribbon related craft for when Abby has more hair bows than clothes...the good news: you can make ruffle socks with ribbon! Hooray- another new hobby and I don't have to buy anything else!https://www.theribbonretreat.com/custom/modules/FreeProjects/PDFRuffledSocksInstructions.pdf

Silence

Living in Denton again comes with many advantages... great church, great food, wonderful town square, good live music, lots of walking opportunities, community... the list goes on, but my favorite part is probably being so close to the Daskams. I love that I actually drove past Keri on the street the other day. I love hearing Abby randomly ask if we can go see baby Cake. I love that Abby knows what Kas looks like and that he's Troy's brother. And I absolutely marvel at the fact that Keri and I get to put our girls in the stroller or the car and laugh at their squeaks and squeals.

What started as a loud, noisy, occasionally tearful trip to Central Market ended with peaceful silence as the beauties slept side by side.

Disliking Dora

Abby is going through a Dora phase. Fine, I can outlive Dora. But in the meantime, I have a few issues with the creators. I realize that Dora was created before Diego, but still, didn't she "arrive" around 2000? Not exactly the first cartoon character ever. So what's with Dora's outfit? Why does she have a pink shirt, orange shorts, and yellow socks? Why is her pink shirt just a little too short so that you see a line of belly when she stretches? Why is her head shaped like a football? And why, and this is the big one, why, when Dora and Diego overlap in episodes, is Dora's head twice the size of Diego's?

All I can think is that Dora is the cousin that is just a little bit off. The one you hope doesn't come to the family reunion but of course she'll be there. And you know she'll follow you around the entire time.

Couldn't the creators have made her a little more lovable? A little less mismatched? A little more of a normal sized and shaped head? Why did they do it? And who signs off on these sketches?

To the coolest lady I know...

Happy Birthday Granny!

You are by far the most amazing woman I know... You've lived enough to fill up twice your years.

You are loved and loving.

"Strength and dignity are her clothing and she smiles at the future. She opens her mouth in wisdom and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue. She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children rise up and bless her; Her husband also and he praises her saying: 'Many daughters have done nobly, but you excel them all.'" - Proverbs 31: 25-29

Thanks for being you.

And to prove Abby is consistent in her strangeness:

Crazy Kid

This morning when I told Abby it was cold outside, she immediately ran to her room and put on her hat and mittens. She didn't seem to care that she was missing a shirt, and socks, and shoes. She did remember to grab the duck whistle on her way out the door though.

Oh, and this is apparently her "super kick" which I have no idea when or where she learned:

two very different things

i know these things are in no way connected, but why make two different posts?

1. today i curled up in a dark room with a pillow, blanket, and sleepless in seattle on tv. a perfect way to spend a rainy two hours.

2. as i was out driving on a busy road i noticed a firetruck with lights and sirens headed my way. i pulled over and watched it speed away. i know this is going to sound insane, but i love watching emergency vehicles on the road. i love that everyone stops worrying about themselves and where they're headed and that all the cars pull over to the side of the road. there's something beautiful in watching a line of complete strangers stop and respect that someone else is more important. this is not a new feeling for me. i've always loved this situation. i feel the same way about the funeral procession. when i see a line of cars with headlights on, and i watch others acknowledge that loss by simply stopping their commute for a moment... it just seems special. maybe it's the community aspect, maybe it's just following unwritten rules. i just know that i feel hopeful when i see it.

Happy Birthday Papa Wayne!

85 years old and still partying- quite impressive!

As you know, things are never done normally around here, so we hope you enjoy the compilation of Abby's new take on an old song:

Politics

So Matt Damon compared Sarah Palin in the White House to a "bad Disney movie."

Here's my two cents:
I like Disney movies. Maybe it's the fact that they're family-friendly. Maybe it's the frequent lack of violence. Or the fact that I'm never really sitting on the edge of my seat wondering what is going to happen. Maybe it's the happy endings.

Maybe, just maybe, a Disney movie isn't the worst thing that could happen to America right now.

History 101

I've just finished reading The Case for the Real Jesus by Lee Strobel. And I know he has written multiple books in the same format, but this one had a specific issue that hit me.

You know how you can hear something and think you know it but then there's that one time that you hear it again in passing and you think, "Wait a minute- what did you just say? That's amazing! Why haven't I understood that before now?" That's how I feel.

See there's the case of Jesus Christ as a physical, historical person and his resurrection being argued. And all these scholars and intellectuals and skeptics all agree that there is an extraordinary amount of proof (outside of the Bible) that Jesus existed, died and was resurrected. I know I already knew that.

Here's why I was dumbfounded:
Why do we (Christians) ever use the phrase, "You just have to have faith" when explaining or defending our beliefs? If there's proof, PROOF, that Jesus lived and was resurrected, why does it seem so strange that we believe it? No one says "You just have to have faith that World War II happened" or "You just have to trust that Martin Luther King, Jr. existed." Those historical events aren't doubted, so why are we defending factual history concerning the life of Christ?

I don't think I'm making the point I want to make... this isn't meant to be a Bible argument, it's much more personal... let me try again.
Why do I have a hard time believing that Jesus Christ really did die for me and that he really will be there for me in the end? Why do I struggle with the "meaning of it all"? Why do I ever wonder if I'm just talking to myself when I pray? How can I have all these doubts? How can I fall back on the "if only I could just SEE Him, it'd make it easier" argument? I've never once asked to see any other historical person to believe.

I just don't understand how I can struggle with something that doesn't require "faith" as much as "acceptance". I don't have to believe that Jesus lived and died for my sins; I just have to accept it.

Milestone

Well, this is apparently my 101st blog post. So to kick off the next 100 posts, I'm posting a video for the first time. Could someone please tell me why my child randomly decides to sing out of the side of her mouth? Is she a future comedian? actress? ventriloquist? I guess time will tell.

Flying High

Matt decided today that Abby should fly a kite. It obviously isn't March so it took a little searching to actually find a kite to fly, but eventually we did- thank you Toys R Us.

Abby was a natural:

The only issue was that when we told her to run, she took off and kept going until we chased after her and screamed for her to run the other way.

Fashion Week

In honor of NY fashion week, I present two looks that will be popular in the Naylor household this fall:

The heart hoodie sweatshirt. Tried it on her during the wonderful cooler weather Tuesday, managed to get it off of her at the end of the ridiculously warm Wednesday. She seems to be a huge fan of the hoodie. Very excited to cover her head for some reason.

The pink hightops. Those who know and love me are aware that I don't purchase pink items willingly. But these may be the cutest shoes ever. It doesn't hurt that daddy has a black pair. If I buy some then we can be the Chuck Taylor-wearing Naylor family.

Unfortunately for Abby, she lives in Texas. So, here she is displaying her excitement that I let her wear her fall shoes with shorts!

Weekend Pics

Blissfully certain that she had outsmarted the sprinkler by staying one step ahead:

Sadly, she didn't notice the sprinkler was gaining on her until it was too late:
And I took this one today. It's her cute Footloose look:

Grandfatherly Love?

This weekend Abby spent time playing hard with her grandparents. After watching four adults anticipate her every need and bend to her every whim, I started thinking.

So many times I have heard a message or read a passage that involved the concept of God as Father. And every time it has been presented to me, I've struggled to connect with it. I wasn't a daddy's little girl. I didn't have a great dad. There were even a few years when I didn't have a dad at all. But I had an amazing grandfather. And here's the thing: I never, never doubted that he loved me. I never thought I wasn't good enough. Never thought that if I messed up he'd stop loving me. Never questioned why he loved me or how much he loved me. I just knew that he did.

Most people think parents are forced to love you. How many times have we heard or said some variation of, "Of course you think I'm good enough- you're my mom/dad."? But grandparents don't have the same stipulations. They didn't choose to bring you into the world. They aren't physically and emotionally connected with you from day 1. They can come and go as infrequently as they choose. They get to "give you back" to your parents when they're tired. But in my case, my grandparents chose to love me. Not merely tolerate me, but to love me passionately and irrevocably.

Here's the point I'm getting at: it may be nearly impossible for me to imagine God as my Father, but it seems to be pretty easy to imagine Him loving me like my grandfather did. If my grandad, who was human and made plenty of mistakes, loved me in spite of my many faults, then how much more must God love me?

So, maybe the title isn't as important as I've made it out to be. Maybe every time the Bible and pastors and teachers mention God as a Father it's because that is supposed to be a universal example of perfect love. Well, if that's the case, I'm just going to start adding a little "grand" in front of "father". Here's hoping that isn't too blasphemous.