Two Weeks in the Tri-Cities...

I grew up here. Born at Kadlec, lived in Kennewick, and lastly, attended Kamiakin High School prior to taking off for the Great Northwest and attending Western Washington University in Bellingham, WA. Ever since I can remember, my parents would pile us in the car and we would make the 5 hour trek across the mountains to my grandparents house in Bellevue, WA. When everyone sat complaining about the rain outside, I remember feeling refreshed, comfortable, cozy even! I knew in my heart of hearts that I would land myself on the west side of the mountains sometime in my life, I just wasn't sure when...

As soon as high school was done, I made the break. Bellingham was quaint, cozy and beautiful. There was, and is, no place like it. I fell in love there, walked downtown with Kyle while sipping hot cocoa on our first of many dates and decided, at a later date, to get married there as well.

Today is October 17th, 2006, and I have been out of the Tri-Cities for 9+ years now. Kyle and I have moved south from Bellingham and live within about 20 minutes of downtown Seattle, Katie and William - as far as I can tell - enjoy the refreshing rain and beautiful greenery that they've been born into, and I get to sip hot coffee everyone morning while looking out my window at the lush western washington 'tropics', sometimes surprisingly cloudless blue skies, the abundance of greenery, and last but not least, I get to anticipate the 10 minute drive to view the beautiful San Juan Islands... take my dogs to the beach... ride a ferry across the Puget Sound... or walk downtown Seattle and experience the diversity that only comes with a larger city.

Today I am here in Kennewick in the midst of my two week stay while my parents travel Switzerland together. I have driven my younger sister, Hannah, to school every morning and watched her volleyball games/practices most week nights. I have seen parts of this town that I have not seen since high school - neighborhoods, high school friends' houses, stores and shops. Yes, my mother and father comment on the ease it would mean for Kyle and I to just move over here and have them within a stone's throw... more date nights, kids closer to their grandparents, less phone calls and more time together, etc.
Though all this sounds wonderful to me, it can't quite compete with the connection my heart has to Western Washington. I don't believe I'll ever leave that place - I don't think I'll ever end up back where my roots are... yet I've heard that from others and have been increasingly surprised to see whose 'back' whenever I speak to my Mom during one of our many phone conversations or visit the sagebrush city myself.

Here I feel too exposed, unearthed, vulnerable, maybe even too emotional... there I feel cozy, secure, independant and like an adult. All these factors cause me to anxiously await my return to the Seattle area everytime I come over. I enjoy my time here and I love the time spent with my family and the priority it is for me to be here for lengthy visits won't change yet my desire to make it my permanent home has not increased...

Sorry Mom. I really think you, Dad and Hannah should consider a move over to the rainy side of the state! Just think, you'd be closer to the grandkids, Kyle and I could have more date nights, there'd be more time together and less time on the phone... just consider it.

I love each of you dearly.

Minivan Mom after all...

We took the plunge. Held our breathe, covered our ears for fear of the ridicule we just may encounter, and swallowed all pride...

We bought a 2001 Honda Odyssey. We will, unfortunately, be selling the 1999 Subaru Outback we have grown to love and appreciate. Yet when weighing the pros and cons of buying a larger vehicle we discovered it was well within our personal ministry desires to have the capacity to 'haul' people. And we weren't going to do it at 16-20 mpg for an SUV that seemed to 'better fit' our personalities. So we went for the only minivan I have ever been willing to look at. The Honda Odyssey. Yes, I'm proud to say this 7 seater beast will do 27 mpg on the highway while doing about 22 around town. That's better than the Subaru has ever done!

We will be handing over the cash and picking the van up this coming Wednesday. My first long haul will be this weekend as I drive over Snoqualmie Pass with my Mom and the kids to visit them in the Tri-Cities. Actually, I will be 'babysitting' my younger sister, Hannah, while my parents begrudgingly hop a flight to Switzerland for 2 weeks. During that time I will HAUL Hannah, Katie, Will and myself to and from school, volleyball practice, volleyball games, the store, etc. I'm sure it will be a luxurious ride - everything that I've ever dreamed in a MINIVAN.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Jess and I... oh yeah, and the parade of children.

We probably shouldn't be allowed in public. But as of yet, there's been no law passed prohibiting the sleep deprived mothers and their offspring to walk freely within the confines of a public building. Until that moment comes, Jesseca Emerson and I will take advantage of any mall, park, museum and consignment store that will allow us entry.


Jesseca (left) comes almost complete with her 4 year old son, Riley David (right), and her 3 month old daughter, Regan Anne (below right). I (left below) follow suit with my 2 year old daughter, Catherine Elizabeth (right), and my 6 month old son, William McCormick (below right). I can see the Mall Security now. Sitting in the viewing room, watching the security cameras and picking away at the unsatisfying lunches their wives packed for them that morning when all of a sudden one guy looks up to see Riley stroll through the Nordstrom entrance in all of his glory while quick behind is the all too familiar parade of two sleep deprived mothers, ANOTHER toddler and a couple of breastfeeding babies. It is Jesseca Emerson and Krista Schei. "They're back boys. Let's warn the men on the ground and FOR GOD'S SAKE, SOMEONE... ANYONE! Call the 3:00PM shift supervisor and tell him. We know they'll be here most of the day."

Jess and I don't usually plan our outings in detail. There's no reason to. We commented on how our husbands wouldn't be allowed to accompany us on these outings because we don't want to HAVE to explain to them why all these 'stops' and 'breaks' are especially important.

"Yes, the kids need a moment to play. And YES, they probably will again before we go!"
"Yes, I need to feed Regan/Will again."
"No, I didn't put a diaper on Riley, he's potty-trained but he has to go NOW!"
"No, Katie can't swim in the fountain! Yes, I mean it Kyle! Even if you roll up her pants!"
"Yes, it is worth it to go nurse the babies all the way down at Nordstroms and then resume our shopping."
"Yes, I DO think that GAP Kids will have some good sales."
"Yes, even comparable to a consignment store. Haven't you EVER looked?!"
"No, the kids have had enough shopping for one day. They won't listen anymore."
"I said, they won't listen anymore! We need to haul out of this place as fast as humanly possible!"
"No! There's no time to stop by the APPLE store. I'm so sorry."

All the while Katie and Riley are "acrobatting" their way down the walkway outside the mall yards ahead of their mothers. They are dancing, laughing, hiding, head-butting, screaming and on the brink of going insane. Jess and I pick up our speed. We walk at a faster pace, pass stores that only moments earlier were an option to browse, and race for the car. We pile the kids in and start the engines praying that God will be gracious and allow the kids a somewhat easy bedtime routine once we pull in the drive. Each time I say, 'I won't do this again!'... but believe it or not, the joy of the outing is all too much to resist the next time around.

Yesturday morning Jess and I decided to take the kids to ice cream at Coldstone at Alderwood Mall. That way they could play on the toys outside of Sears and Jess and I could also spend some time looking for good sales. (Not WHILE the kids were playing. No. We're not that bad.) We arrived at 4:00PM and left at 7:45PM. Let's see... we went into 3-4 stores - at most. The rest of the time was spent doing what we love to do most...

Raising a handful of freakin' adorable - not to mention well-behaved - children. Thank you Jess for being the friend that I need at moments like these. I love you SO much.

Katie's Aunt Hannah...

On January 21st, 1993, MY sister Hannah Catherine was born. It was a dream for me as a 14 year old to have a baby sister. I mothered her and sistered her... the "mothering" entailed diaper changes and the quite often babysitting jobs as well as feeding her a bottle and sharing my bedroom with her. The "sistering" entailed things like showing her how to blow her Cheerios through her lips across the dining room table only to erupt into a chorus of laughter, waking her up just because I wanted to hold her and dress her various times a day as if she were a doll. I used to lay her on her tummy as a 3/4 year old, bend her knees so that she was essentially kicking herself in the bottom and then I would wrap the top of her underwear over the top of her sneakers. She would be stuck screaming and rocking on her belly until either Mom came to her rescue or my penalty was such that the better decision was to release my little sister. But down deep as we grew up together... we just understood each other. Even at moments when noone else understood us. WE understood us.

Now, my "little" sister Hannah is 5'9" and 13 years old. She is probably my daughter, Catherine Elizabeth's, favorite person. Hannah understands Katie. Katie knows it. To watch these two interract is like nothing else. Oh wait - that's not true. It's exactly like Hannah and I used to. I am now reaping the rewards and the consequences. Hannah mothers Katie AND Hannah "sisters" Katie.

Today, September 19th, Katie is 2 years old. For her birthday she received, from her Aunt Hannah, dress up clothes.
Included in the outfit was a pink tutu, a pink boa (frilly, sparkly scarf), a fairy hat, a wand, and a pair of pink slippers. Katie could not put the outfit on fast enough! Hannah GOT her!

It was incredible to watch!

Since that moment yesturday when Katie opened her gifts from Aunt Hannah, she has not been without her tutu. We pull it off at diaper changes only to have it right back on. Katie insists on wearing it out and about. To her friend's house, to the park, to the mall, running around outside...


The joy that I have received from this experience the past 36 hours has been so pure and exhilerating. What an awesome parallel to witness... my sister and I then she and my daughter.

Hannah, you are loved. Thank you for being such a phenomenal role model for my daughter now and in the years to come. I love you with all my heart and I hope these pictures will bring you the same pure joy and laughter that I have had - thanks to you.

Catherine Elizabeth and William McCormick

 

The pleasure that I receive from watching these two interract is healing... 

Disaster Control

I swore to NEVER be one of those Moms who unwillingly pushed one of those child-size zambonis around the store where the toddler can "drive" the cart while your infant rides atop the handle bars just to keep the world from falling from its axis while you got a FEW things accomplished. No. I would be stronger than that. And no, my child would never get to enjoy such audacious luxuries especially at the expense of my dignity. Of which one loses a lot of after knocking over end caps of crackers and cereals, shelves of plastic patio dinnerware, not to mention the occasional run-in with the regular sized shopping cart coming the other way down the aisle. These large carts are the H2s of the grocery shopping world and I've always despised them.

But then there was today.

Katie and I awoke at our regular time of 7:30AM while Kyle and Will continued the sleep/wake rhythm for another half hour. I got the coffee going, made toast, gave Katie her milk and resorted to our new couch to watch Arthur and play house with Katie and her "tchoo" babies -- "tchoo" stands for 2 or more. One is never enough. Kyle slowly arose and brought Will out with him. He handed Will off, hugged and kissed us all a good morning and went to pour his cup of coffee. Upon his return, he sat with appreciation next to me on our couch. Couches with springs and without holes is something we've never known!

In any case, Kyle's relationship with our daughter is quite unique. Katie loves dolls, she loves dress-up and make-up, she loves her tea party set BUT she enjoys just as much the danger that her father introduces her to. These are things I've spoke of before... skateboarding sitting on daddy's shoulders, standing on daddy's hand while he straightens his arm up over his head, being thrown oh-so-high in the air with high hopes of being caught on the way down yet a shadow of uncertainty is always present. Exciting. And I believe that because of this connection Kyle tends to believe that they connect on all levels. An example of this is how he will observe her chipper/happy mood in a moment's time and begin to "push her buttons" hoping that she will simply laugh in good humor and continue on with her chipper/happy mood. But what he doesn't realize sometimes is that this happy go lucky fun that he's having is only flipping our daughter on her head emotionally simply to turn right side up in a funk for the rest of the day!

This morning Kyle began playing with Katie nicely. Talking sweetly, having good conversation, taking orders and playing house. This then turned into being silly hoping that Katie would follow suit. When she didn't and instead lovingly asked him to 'get back on track' in her own words, Kyle continued on. This then turned into Katie laughing in the same way one laughs when they're being tickled against their will. You know, the pissed off laugh. When all was said and done, Katie didn't have much interest in playing anymore but instead wanted Mom... and she wanted me for the rest of the morning. No joke. It was all I could do to get out of the house and go to the grocery store in hopes of finding a child-size zamboni that my daughter could enjoy while I attempted to get something accomplished.

Today at Safeway in Mill Creek, Will sat in his carseat atop the handlebars and Katie Andretti bulldozed her way down the aisles while I shopped for tonight's lasagna dinner. Aside from having to BACK OUT of aisles and reevaluate how close I was to anyone ahead of me, it wasn't all that bad.

I apologize to anyone I have mocked in the past for lugging these monstrous carts around the store. For all I know, you probably had a morning not unlike the one I just had and there I was - less than understanding.

Public Nudity

We were just recently annexed into Mill Creek City limits. Formerly Unincorporated Snohomish County - you know, where children running around in their birthday suit isn't so uncommon. But the poshness of Mill Creek is becoming more and more apparent to us. For starters, we received a pamphlet this last week touching on issues such as water purity, all-city garage sales, tax dollars 'well spent', etc. A plea was made asking us to wash our cars at the local car wash as opposed to doing it ourselves since the soap water pollutes city water; cops patrol the neighborhoods in the evening hours for safety purposes - I don't know if it makes me feel safe or puts me on edge to be quite honest. Thinking of things such as these caused me particular concern today as my daughter and her friend, Riley, danced around in the front yard completely nude. Riley started in his undies but quickly resorted to being more 'free'.

They ran around screaming and throwing buckets of water on each other. When they got near Jess or I, Jesseca simply reminded them that "Mommies don't like to get wet, remember?" They bought it. Most of the time. We ate chips and guacamole, mowed the lawn, threw all the bath toys into the pool, turned on the hose and watered the plants, ran inside the house dragging dirt and wet grass clippings with us, made juice - and the kids even executed the most hideous of behaviors and peed outside. At least I know Katie did. Right in the guacamole. No joke.

Once the guacamole was gone and the kids started getting cranky (again, mostly Katie) we decided it was time to call it a day. It was naptime for everyone. And there's nothing better than slipping into cool sheets for a summer afternoon nap with the fan blowing on you after a naked romp in the sun and a splash in the pool with your dearest of friends.

I'm sure we'll do it all over again tomorrow.

My heart is 20 months old...

To the left is a picture of my heart.

There have been random moments when I realize that my daughter is my heart. Kyle holds my heart, Katie is my heart. As is my son, William, now. Yet the part of my heart that signifies Katie has been grown, tarnished, shined... it's old. Or so it feels. Were anything to happen to her I would lose incredible memories of the past and awesome dreams and visions of the future. She is becoming her own person and is day by day pushing my 'motherly' influence away. She will do that until she reaches the end of high school, and as most of us know because of personal experience, it is then that she will begin again to draw closer to me as she once was in infancy. Phone calls asking for direction in life, late night conversations about boys and very likely - hopefully few and far between - desiring financial 'assistance'.

The other day as we were leaving Doxa church in West Seattle, I let go of her hand on the sidewalk as we approached our car. We were parked in a diagonal spot beside the church building on a residential street. Katie and Kyle made their way around the opposite side as I set William in on the passenger's side. Over the top of the car I noticed a vehicle driving up the street towards us. It was a 'motherly' moment when you run through the checklist in your head: 1) there's a car approaching from the driver's side 2) Katie is on the driver's side of the car with Kyle 3) the car is not going fast 4) Katie is probably holding Kyle's hand...

But she wasn't. We have begun to teach Katie to 'touch the wheel' of the car as I lift William in and she is NOT allowed to let go until Mom or Dad says so. Kyle was aware of the car and took precautions to keep Katie safe. On this particular day, Kyle's hands were full and as he instructed her to touch the wheel while he opened the door she decided to take off right towards the street. At that same moment, a car flew around the corner from behind me on the passenger's side of the car and within a second of time I could feel the car speeding from behind me, I heard Kyle shouting for Katie to STOP at the top of his lungs, I heard the 'click' of William's carseat in its base, and my heartbeat stopped, my brow was instantaneously sweaty and I couldn't breathe. I knew that my daughter, in her disobedience, was about to pay the ultimate consequence - I knew that my heart was running out into oncoming traffic. I do not know how fast I got around the back of the car and I do not know if the car coming from behind me even noticed a little girl in a pink coat and jeans running happily out from behind a parked car as her mother raced towards her. Seconds of time did not have to pass for me to realize the impact this little girl has on my life.

The drive home was silent. The minute I spoke up and got no more than a breath out, Kyle piped up saying that that was the scariest moment of his life. I didn't have to speak. We both just sat in silence as Katie, in her naivety, asked questions and told us stories from the back seat. She was happy and content. I looked at her amazed and thankful for everything that she is. As a dear friend told me yesturday, that was the first of many moments such as these when you realize that your children ARE your heart.

She and William are asleep as I write this and I cannot wait until tomorrow morning when I will feed William for his final 'night feeding' and hand him off to his dad to sleep the rest of the morning. I will awake with Katie and serve her toast with honey and milk while I indulge in a couple cups of coffee. We will watch Sesame street at 6:30, then Zaboomafoo at 7:00. Sometimes Arthur and Clifford: The Big Red Dog will be in the line-up before Katie gets bored and begins the day's destruction of the house.

I love being a Mom. But boy is it terrifying. I hear the cycle of joy/terror never really ends.

My World

(Left Photo: Katie and William - May 11, 2006; Right Photo: Katie - 6 weeks old, 2004)

My oh my, I've sure set myself up for failure this time. Trying to summarize "my world" in its current state is not unlike trying to catch one of those annoying weighted rubber balls. My brain goes from 'oh, what beautiful and euphoric moments I have to write about' to 'today was hell'. Now, how I can so quickly jump from one extreme to the next boggles me as much as it boggles you. So, maybe that's just it. My world, as I see it currently, is a place of extremes with a whole mess of a lot in between. In summary, that is.

In further detail, Katie and Kyle enjoy a good ride on the skateboard almost daily. You wonder how in the world I could allow my beautiful daughter to ride atop the shoulders of her ever-daring father? Because I'm the same way. I would rather be raised on a farm in the 40's where you ride your bike to the market without fear of being kidnapped, you ride standing UP in the bed of your father's pick-up truck because it's more fun that way, you go swimming at the local fishing hole withOUT adults and your friend, Bubba, talks about his adventures hanging out the door of his father's milk truck on delivery day as they drive 50 miles per hour down Mr. Dafney's pothole ridden private drive. Yes, these are the days of Lassie. Back then, people didn't make fun of Timmy and his talking dog, they just enjoyed it. So now, I simply enjoy watching Katie laugh and scream as Kyle scoops her up and goes gliding down 133rd Place SE.

William is 6 weeks old and beginning the 'social smile'. With Katie, Kyle and I were adamant about NOT having her in our bed for the sake of our spontaneous marriage and what it entails to keep it 'spontaneous'. She rarely was allowed to sleep in the 'master' bed - I could count on one hand the evenings that I've allowed this rather outlandish behavior. Then there was Will. Oh, don't get me wrong. My thoughts and opinions on the matter haven't changed. And if you ask me at 7:00AM, 12:00PM, 3:00PM, 6:00PM, 10:00PM, sometimes even at 2:00AM, I would, with intensity, agree that the 'family bed' is not the most beneficial way to sleep a child. But when 4:30AM rolls around, you can bet that kid is in my bed. My last drained breast is hanging out of its intended enclosure while William and I sleep soundly - our bodies desperately needing the last few hours of sleep before the morning arrives and the 'dragon stirs'. AKA, Katie.

Every other Thursday Kyle plays poker with a group of close friends and every Thursday I have been attempting consistency and am engaged in a bible study with a group of phenomenal women from all over the Seattle area. So, the 'every other' Thursday is usually a night that the kids get to spend with Kyle's mom - Grandma Schei. :) It has been important for me to keep my identity as there are many hours during every day that I fight the battle of "Katie and Will's Mom" formerly known as "Krista Schei". My moments go from nursing to feeding snacks to nursing to changing a diaper to helping Katie go on the 'big girl potty' to nursing to changing a diaper to pulling maybe two weeds in the front yard to replugging the pacifier to... oh, I almost forgot!... nursing. Who am I again? And not to mention Kyle has some serious pent up energy that I need to be more in tune with.

This group of women has been a great release for me.

Anyone want to babysit so that I can be a WIFE again, too?! Kyle and I are excited to have his mom so close for that very reason. We've had some time to just be alone as she's been so great about watching the chillins'. Otherwise, we resort to staring longingly across the table during a family dinner out, giving high-fives when both kids are asleep before resorting to cuddling in each others' arms and falling asleep too, or simply conversing in the front seats of the car while both kids entertain themselves behind us.

I will wrap this up for the very reason that I need to feed my son and go sit on the couch with my husband before kicking this cold/flu in the butt by getting some much needed shut-eye. Yes, when you get sick you no longer have the opportunity to think about it. That's why I haven't mentioned it yet... Mom's don't get sick. They can't. I used to roll my eyes too when I heard these cliches of parenthood. Believe me, I'm trying my darndest to rebel against them but they have proven themselves true over and over again in the last 6 weeks.

My world is... a little bit of everything.

The first moments of William

The moment William McCormick was born on March 30th, 2006, at 7:06PM, I cried. I didn't cry with Katie. It was probably due to her being blue from the moment she arrived, not breathing, an intense labor and delivery with minor complications and the inability to just sit and breathe once she arrived -- I didn't breathe until she did which took a good 30 seconds to a minute. Those precious first moments were stolen from me. You know what I'm talking about - the baby thrown on the belly, screaming and kicking, goo all over his/her raisin-like face but oh-so-beautiful...

With William I got to experience that moment. And wow. It was amazing. He was wet and wrinkly... in fact, moments before he was being suctioned from every orafice on his face, peeing in every which direction while doctors screamed, 'no, little buddy, not yet!' I believe he actually peed in his own face and hair... but it didn't matter. He was beautiful. And a spitting image of his sister.

The moments that were stolen from me 18 months before were delivered in the birth of my son -- double fold. It looked like Katie looking up at me as well as my son. I can't describe it. I just cried.

Day #279 of pregnancy...

I awoke this morning at 3:00AM with rather aggravating pain around my middle and lower back moving its way toward my belly... yes, it was annoying and enough so that I laid there tossing back and forth for awhile. By about 4:00AM, the contractions were to a point that I knew I should begin timing them to see what was up - so I awoke Kyle and had him hold the clock while I coached my way through a few... usually HE coaches but in such a haze I knew he'd be better suited to simply hold a clock and call out the time as I saw fit. So there we were for about 45 minutes - me, awake and rocking back and forth on all fours... Kyle, asleep except for every 7-8 minutes when I yelled rather forcibly, "Kyle... Kyle... KYLE! (shaking him by this point) TIME PLEASE!"

After this interaction with my not-so-awake husband, I decided that I would rather walk around the house and talk to myself and allow him the sleep he would need to carry me through the rest of the day if this baby was on his way. I climbed out of bed, had a bowl of cereal, walked back and forth, watched horrible early morning television and did whatever I could to stay comfortable. When I realized the contractions were rather consistently 6-10 minutes apart and lasting 90 seconds or so, I went back to bed to try and get some shut-eye with the assistance of a dose of Benadryl. Within no time the Benny kicked in and I was out cold - for an hour.

I awoke to Katie calling for me - to try to describe it the best way I can I would say that I quickly awake to something but I'm never quite sure why, or how, I awoke. I rarely remember audibly hearing anything, in fact. But my heart is stirred and my motherly instincts shift into high-gear. In the silence and whirr of the fan in her room I again hear this calm, tiny, well-rested voice calling from the far corner of her bed, "Mommy... Mommy..." and once in awhile it is followed by a few lines of jibberish that is most likely directed at Geoffrey the Giraffe or Baby - both of whom sleep close to her each night. They're probably discussing how their sleep was... if they feel rested... what they dreamt about... and how Mommy will be in in just a moment to change everyone's diapers and carry them out to the kitchen where she will prepare toast to eat. That's what I assume they talk about anyway...

This morning, though, it was Kyle's job. HE was the one that got to rest so HE would be the one up and at 'em to retrieve our daughter from the invisible clutches of her toddler bed. (She's not allowed to crawl out on her own - merely for the purpose of keeping her corralled at all times and not wanting to fight the fight of keeping her out of OUR bed in the middle of the night. It has worked very well.) Kyle brought Katie in to join us as we slowly rose out of our sleep... and then it hit me! DAMNIT, THE CONTRACTIONS HAVE SUBSIDED AND I'M STILL PREGNANT! Yes, I do believe I cursed... maybe even cried.

In any case, it was a good thing there was no baby today. A dear friend of mine, who is 6.5 months pregnant, had some rather serious medical difficulties today - all of which are under control and Mom and Baby (still in the womb) are at home healthy and 'ok' - and Kyle and I took care of her son for the day while she and her husband spent the day in the ER. We went from Evergreen Hospital ER to McDonalds to Ballard and back home for naps - EVERYONE took a nap! It was wonderful! We all awoke, had a snack, welcomed Riley's Mom and Dad back home and then began winding down for the night. We had dinner together, the kids had their baths and then they went on home while I laid Katie down for bed. Now, Kyle and I sit once again, anticipating my weekly doctor's appointment scheduled for tomorrow morning at 9:45AM... hopefully I will get to cancel as I will be in the hospital already.

I should stop talking such craziness. I'll see Dr. Frankwick tomorrow and she'll remind me that she doesn't induce until I'm 7-14 days late unless there are extenuating medical concerns. I wonder if insanity counts.

Nesting instinct... really?!

Was the person who created the concept of "nesting instinct" ever pregnant? Did they understand that the last few weeks of cleaning your house like a maniac has nothing to do with cleanliness but instead has to do with the absolute insanity that you find yourself in? They say that you're "term" at 37 weeks, but one should NEVER begin anticipating the arrival of their child at that point. NEVER.

Just because the floors have been swept and swiffered, mopped and laundered, the office has been re-organized, the front yard has been mowed, the driveway's been swept clean, the car's been cleaned thoroughly... more than once, the backyard is now completely void of any plant life it previously held (the extra "stuff" was driving me crazy) and the refrigerator was carefully pieced back together after being anti-bacterialized doesn't mean I have an unnatural desire for cleanliness. No. This is rather evidence of insanity than it is a calm, beautiful, "nesting instinct" that has increasingly taken over my life the last 3 weeks. Ask my husband.

If I don't go into labor tonight or awaken in absolute surprise from a "broken water balloon" in my bed tonight, I'm sure Kyle and I will find a way to indulge in my state of insanity tomorrow as it is his day off. I'll keep you up to date on what our next project is... I'm starting to see visions of sod laid in our backyard and pool-fencing stretching across the first terrace; I'm seeing visions of all the trim being completed and doors being hung in order to complete the remodel on our house; I'm seeing visions of a few more weekly OB/GYN appointments prior to this child's arrival and unfortunately, most of these visions are concluded with a picture of a very prune-like, 12 lb. baby boy in my arms as I sit exhausted in a hospital room screaming "FINALLY!" ...


...yet, at that point I can't figure out if I'd like to shoot the 12 pounder out and deal with the work and immediate consequences OR spend the following 4 weeks recovering from a cesarean section.

I'm due in 2 days and I'm hoping that this kid comes 'early'... therefore, hopefully tonight will be the night. We'll keep you posted.

Levitra...

The fact that a possible side effect of this widely used drug is that you may have an erection for longer than 4 hours concerns me. First of all, the concept of having an erection for that long due to a substance you ingested into your body is scary in and of itself and should make any man run in the other direction... but secondly, the fact that the folks who promote this drug don't explain that an erection lasting 2 hours should be of concern... maybe once you hit 3 hours?! There are actually people out there who will wait the entire 4 hours before seeking medical attention and I think that we either need to begin coralling these folks and not allowing them to procreate or we need to save our breath and let the saying "survival of the fittest" ring true.

Despite the posted by name, this is Krista speaking.

No baby yet...

This has been a challenging few weeks and we continue to wait...

It is currently 10:45PM on Wednesday evening, March 22nd, and I am once again staring down the shoot at my weekly doctor's appointment scheduled for tomorrow at 9:45AM. I hope each Thursday when I leave the OB/GYN office that the following week's appointment will be null and void by the time it arrives because I will either be in the hospital having a baby or Kyle and I will be at home recovering with baby in tow.

I promise to try and blog as soon as our son arrives. I appreciate the thoughts and prayers of all our family and friends... I can't wait to share this little guy.

FYI: Official due date is NEXT Thursday, March 30th.

What is "church"? ... and other thoughts...

Recently, I have found myself progressively more challenged, almost burdened, with the concept of "church". The large Sunday morning gatherings are becoming less and less impressive to me if they are not, first and foremost, accompanied with the truth that "church" should just as easily be happening at your home and in your neighborhood around you as it is from 10:00 - 11:00AM Sunday mornings. It could be argued that most churches talk to this concept of church done at home - yet, and I ask you to be honest with yourself, is the congregation really doing it? I've witnessed a serious categorizing of home life and church life even amongst some of my closest friends. The 'awe of God' is gone and we have, in our personal lives, morphed Him into a predictable, limitable, and flexible God - which He is not. I swing from one end of the pendulum - enabling these behaviors - to the other end - desiring to hatefully, and without remorse, 'skin' these Christians of all their false fronts only to leave them beaten and bloody and full of disdain towards me. In the midst of finding the appropriate tension between these two spectrums, I wrestle with the uneasiness of not knowing what I feel God is calling us to. When I say 'us', I mean Christians as a whole as well as Kyle and I personally.

In my struggle with the categorizing between daily life and spirituality, I have been confronted with a continuum of events that has only furthermore given me clarity in living the Christian life and this idea of 'church'. Within the past few days Kyle has turned down an opportunity to be on the pastoral staff of a large and steadily growing church in the area while at the same time we have struggled with an aversion to a proposal that has been presented at our current church. Both of these options, were I to go into more detail, look so 'promising' to the person who is sitting back assuming that God is NOT moving and is about to reveal His provision. And to that perspective, I'd like to call 'bullshit'. To clarify, this perspective is almost as natural to us as breathing. We do not find ourselves, even Christians, swerving to miss the miracles happening all around us, thinking of communicating with a Higher Power to make even the largest of life's decisions, or even questioning the purpose of our presence on this earth. No, instead, we see what's in front of us... the alarm clock to arouse us, the kids, the house, the boss - and quite often, what we have to look at in our lives is 'not enough'. Therefore, we are in a constant state of WANT and that WANT begins to taint our perspective of what God's provision is. Or on the contrary, when we begin to attain time, wealth, health, etc., we consider that God's 'provision' for us - and I would have to say that, although it sounds as though I'm "splitting hairs", I would rather think of these things as God's blessings, above and beyond his provision.

God's PROVISION has already been established in his Son. Our ability to commune with the Living God whenever we want and the ability to choose Him as the Savior (He is the only reason we have hope in life) and Lord (He is the only thing that is Truth in this life and should be revered as such) of our life IS the provision of our Heavenly Father. As for daily provision... as for worldly provision... as for finite happenstances that we need God's help with, yes, He is there. And yes, He cares. Kyle and I have seen a continuous flow of money come in from one thing or another allowing us the opportunity to pay our bills, feed our family, get our car serviced, etc. For the ability to make ends meet, we give God glory - yet were we not able to pay for our bills; were we not able to get the car serviced and therefore found ourselves on the side of I-5 with a toddler in the backseat; were we not able to make up for financial mistakes that we've made in the past - I would not dare shake my fist at the God of the Universe and claim that His provision is lacking. Yes, I would cry. Yes, I would wrestle with living in this world and living amongst all the expectations this world delivers to my doorstep every morning of every day. Yes, I would question. But would I claim that God is not providing for me? No. Would I claim that He is not moving? No.

This God that I speak of is present and actively working amongst His creation. He is offering to partner with us. Yet due to our inability to clear our conscience for a second, a minute, a day - we miss it and are quick to find fulfillment elsewhere. I bet that if we stopped and began a journey of seeking the Living God, we could live in a smaller house and be around more often... we could drive the '85 Toyota that we just sent to the wrecking yard instead of exchanging it for a $375.00 car payment... we could rent a house without the daily concern that we're not being 'wise' with our finances... we could leave the house dirty and go to the park with the kids... and God forbid, we could give up the 2-3 weekly bible studies that we're a part of at our local church and instead have our neighbors over for dinner - he cusses like a sailor, she smokes like a chimney and they're not married, by the way.

Am I making ANY sense? Am I getting through on any level? As I struggle with the idea of being a part of an established church with it's own doctrinal statement and membership hoops to jump through, I also struggle with the lack of accountability that comes with not having ANY hoops. You've got the church-goers smoking in the hallways and drinking at the Small Groups in some kind of rebellion against the traditional North American church. This is just as detrimental. And therefore, I war with the concept of church and am trying, in humility, to seek the most beneficial way of glorifying God in community, commitment and accountability to one another.

A couple of months ago, Doxa (our home church), decided to kick the prayer movement of the church into high-gear. Most churches have a 'prayer ministry', this is true. But we decided to go from a ministry that you COULD get involved in, if you so desired, to a calling that everyone SHOULD be involved in. Five pieces of paper were handed to each person. You were to write your name on each piece of paper then move from your comfy pew and begin praying for God to reveal to you who was supposed to pray for you during the coming week. You approached each of these people individually and asked, "(Name), will you pray for me this week?" Uncomfortable? Yes. Humbling? Yes. Enriching? Yes.

A place for the 'non-christian'? Absolutely not.

I have decided in my own heart that the cultural idea of 'church' - Saturday/Sunday services involving worship from the stage and words from the pulpit - is NOT for the non-believer. I have yet to attack the entire Word of God with regards to this idea, but have begun seriously seeking some foundation for what my spirit is telling me. In reading through Acts, I have become more and more aware of the personal ministry being done in neighborhoods and on street corners as opposed to the temple. The temple is where the 'believers' gathered -- it is where the 'non-believers' came AFTER they became believers on the streets of the city! The street is where the ministry was happening! My heart longs for, and the bible continues to affirm my desires, that church should be where we can gather in aweful worship to the Living God, seek genuine prayer, talk openly about pornography addiction, abortion, and alcoholism and other diseases without the weight of whether or not we've offended someone. My desire is to reach a place of authentic communication amongst the believers so that we can be a network of support as we reach the community around us. THIS is what I want for 'church' and I'm beginning to believe that God is calling Kyle and I to something not unlike what my heart is screaming for.

I cannot sit back and assume a restful position as of yet, these are simply thoughts that knock around in my head day-in and day-out and fine-tuning is needed - likely up to the moment I see God's glory for myself. Please know that my heart simply dreams of something different then what I'm seeing at the neighborhood churches around me... I long for Katie to know and understand the stories of God through interaction with the kid down the street as opposed to the felt-board stories of Sunday school... I dream that the prayer I pray over her every night - that God would continue to reveal His love, His grace, and His spirit to my daughter - would become such a tangible experience for her amongst this anti-supernatural culture she lives in that she will be SHOCKED that not everyone sees it...

Oh... am I naive? You wonder why I can't just be pleased that non-christians are walking through the doors of a church and are about to interact with people who will love and accept them. You wonder why it can't be that you should be praised for inviting your neighbor to church - "what guts that takes!", you say. But I beg you to see it differently. See your home as the place for ministry - don't use the church building as a scapegoat to not be seeking the Living God on a daily basis and instead leave it up to the pulpit and whoever's behind it on Sunday... see yourself as the teacher, the pastor, the priest and recognize your personal priesthood when it comes to sharing God's grace, love, forgiveness, and acceptance. And one thing more, walking through the doors of a church is no 'accident'. There's no reason to dumb-it-down for the non-christians! Pray out loud, let church go longer than an hour and read the Word verbatim if need be! The newcomers will not be shocked... in fact, they will most likely be relieved - seeing as the last 3 churches they've visited began with a puppet-show and ended with a secular song but provided no Truth. They've needed to know who to talk to about the affair, who to run to instead of the addiction, who to lean on for accountability and who to talk to about the consequences of a decision they are about to make...

Let God move.

Transition...

Just yesturday evening Katie and I took time to simply be together and play. She raced around in her pajamas with footies, freshly bathed and sipping on her milk - all the 'usuals' before she and I retire to the nursery where we rock a little, sing a LOT, and pray a little before putting her down for bed. At this point in my pregnancy with our son I am happy to humor Katie as she entertains me because it usually consists of me being commanded to sit down (an emphatic "dah!" from Katie as she motions for me to sit "down" - hence, the "dah!") wherever it is that she would prefer for me to sit. Yesturday evening it happened to be the rocking chair in the nursery -- ahhh... nothing better... I can do this.

Katie wanted to get into her crib and play so I hopped up from my comfy spot and tossed her in playfully. She proceeded to entertain me with all the 'tricks of the trade' her friend, Riley, had been teaching her this week... jumping like a mad woman on the crib mattress, falling backwards numerous times onto her backside and then laying back only to roll over by kicking her legs up close to her head and rolling herself onto her knees only to do the same thing all over again... and last of all, she was anxious to show me her NEWEST maneuver, climbing out of the crib.

I couldn't believe it.

As she teetered on the crib railing looking at me with a smirk, a laugh, and lastly, a desire for approval and praise, I couldn't hold in my laughter. It was awesome and adorable all at the same time -- and what fun! She was having a blast! And if it was necessary for her to continue sleeping in her crib, I would have needed to surpress my joy in the moment and look the other way to not draw any attention to the behavior. But on the contrary, I laughed, grabbed her before she toppled to her death and exclaimed, "there's no better time than the present for you to start sleeping in your BIG GIRL bed!" She looked at me a bit confused all the while saying with utmost confidence, "yeah!" (She says that a lot to be agreeable - sometimes without any idea of what she is agreeing to...).


I began the transition. Sheets were changed, Geoffrey the Giraffe, Avocado the Frog, Duck-Duck and 'Meow' were moved from the crib to the toddler bed, the fan was moved up high so that she wouldn't be in harms way were she to crawl out and walk around without us knowing, the space heater was moved further from her bedside and all odds and ends were picked up off the floor. We were ready...

We rocked and sang. We summed it all up with a prayer for rest, comfort and protection throughout the night and then she was laid down. She looked around, grabbed Geoffrey the Giraffe and closed her eyes. Done. I walked out and closed the door. As a smile slowly spread across my lips, I walked down the hallway and quickly racked my brain of people I could call to share the exciting news!

2:00AM... "THUD!" Kyle and I awoke suddenly to the sound of Katie hitting the hardwood floor in the next room. It was quickly followed by a sad and confused cry for "Mamaaaa...". As I opened her bedroom door, there she sat. The light from the hallway spilled across the floor to find her sitting erect, hair tossled and alligator tears streaming down her face. It took every ounce of strength I had not to laugh out of pure love - there was no blood and she wasn't even all that upset considering her circumstances! I crouched down, lifted her up, and hugged her. (I don't believe she was even awake at the moment.) I softly laid her back down and pulled her blanket to her chin. She looked at me, turned her head and closed her eyes... peaceful, once again. She slept until the morning.

Katie has now slept 1.5 nights and 1 nap in her BIG GIRL bed. It's so much fun to discover what she is capable of. Next I'll be choking back tears as she holds her baby brother for the first time... oh boy, this is all so awesome.

Soon we'll do "this" again...

(Photo: Kyle and Catherine Elizabeth Schei - aka, "Katie" - September 19th, 2004)

For those of you who have read the previous post, I would like to follow it up with information from the 'doc'. I AM not, WAS not, and probably will not be for the next couple of days, in labor. Yes, when I sat facing her in the exam room and she gave me her diagnosis of what's going on, my heart fell for a split second. But then I was suddenly impacted by the reality of the situation. I would go home, take a shower, wait for my husband to get home from work, put Katie to bed, sit up watching TV with Kyle, maybe sip a glass of red wine, go to bed and anticipate the next day with Katie... all the NORMAL stuff that I do. Before I know it, I will be suddenly surprised by either intense pain in my abdomen and back OR a large gush of fluid making it's way down my legs and it will be at that moment that I jump for joy that my son is about to arrive! See, this week I went through that excitement already -- now, I'll get to experience that SAME anticipation all over again. Maybe high expectations ARE a good thing after all... :)


(Photo: Me, the evening before Catherine arrived, September 18th, 2004)

Thank you to everyone who has been thinking about our family during this time. We are very excited. *Above, I have shared one of my favorite photos of all time with you (it's rather vulnerable of me, actually, to let you see this one) -- Katie, only a few hours old, resting on her daddy's chest. I took this picture and will never forget the intensity of my emotions at that moment. Unexplainable.

Yep, we're doing this craziness again -- and it's the best decision we will have ever made.

Little Feet... Big Feat

Sunday, February 27th, 2006: I sensed a small leakage that I carefully evaluated and decided it was NOT amniotic fluid... "no, my water did not break. I will continue as usual and see what happens next." Nothing. Good. My younger brother, David, would be getting married the following weekend in Eastern Washington and I was not about to miss the wedding.

Monday, February 28th, 2006: The exact same sensation and I begin to wonder. This is the same thing that happened with Katie only 18 months ago when I was sure it was NOT my water breaking - but thanks to my husband, I called the on-call doctor, she asked me to come to the hospital to be examined, and sure enough, it was my water! Again, this was the scenario 18 months ago... on the contrary, it was not the scenario last Monday night.

My husband, once again, urged me to be cautious and call the on-call doctor and describe the situation. She asked me to come into the hospital to be examined. So we hopped in the car once our friend Jesseca arrived to watch Katie and tried to prepare ourselves for what may happen in the next 24 hours. I was admitted, dressed up in a drafty hospital gown and told to 'get comfortable' underneath airplane rate sheets and blankets. I did my best and sat back with Kyle to catch a few hours of cable television - eye candy. For example, American Chopper, Maternity Ward on TLC, some historical architecture & engineering show on Discovery Channel. We don't have cable at home and this was quickly becoming a luxurious hotel room once I became entrenched in the possibility of meeting my son, learning about Jesse James and his custom motorcycles, seeing beautiful birth stories and forgetting about the not so warm hospital room, thin bedding and sterile pillows.

It was not my water.

Monday, March 6th, 2006: We have arrived home safely from Eastern Washington with nothing but a few moments of intense pain. Nothing that a little bit of rest and relaxation wouldn't help. My brother Geoff and Jennifer drive home with Kyle, Katie and I on Sunday and decide to stay the night. Monday arrives and Kyle drives them to the airport on his way to work. Before he can get from the airport to work, I find myself crying on the kitchen floor while Katie wipes my tears with a tissue. She's a bit nervous as to why Mom is so upset yet does a wonderful job of playing role-reversal for a few moments before she sits on my lap and curls into my chest. The pain of either contractions, Braxton-Hicks, or simply strained ligaments is so intense that I cannot function. I was not capable at that moment of walking, let alone watching an 18 month old. I gathered myself together and called Kyle who then suggested that I call my friend, Jesseca, to come and get Katie so that I can rest. I do. She comes. Immediately. With her prompting, I call the doctor. I don't feel like I'm having contractions, but at the same time, I don't know if this pain is abnormal and Jesseca persuaded me that it is not something to gamble with. I agree and get on the phone.

They ask me to go to the hospital to be examined.

Kyle is on his way to the hospital from the South... Jesseca, Riley, Katie and I are on our way to the hospital from the North and the nurses are ready and waiting. This time, unlike last Monday, I'm taken to the newly remodeled end of the birthing center in assumption that my baby was coming and they'd have me there for a few days. When I was examined at 5:00PM, my contractions were 3-5 minutes apart, I was 50% effaced (thinning of the cervix) and not yet 1 centimeter dialated (you have to get to 10 centimeters before you have a baby). The on-call doctor gave me the 'ok' to go home or I could stay and get checked in a couple of hours to see if the contractions were effective contractions or simply Braxton-Hicks (false/practice/ineffective contractions). I wanted to go home. This was likely due to my inability to be patient and hear that the contractions were simply practice contractions and there was no telling when the baby would arrive between then and March 30th - my due date. Kyle was of a different perspective. He wanted to stay. I think he anticipated at the time that these were NOT just practice contractions and that the nurse would have positive results for us -- this baby was on his way!

At 7:00PM I was examined again. Woo-hoo! This time I was still having contractions 3-5 minutes apart and they were getting more painful as time passed, my cervix was now 80% effaced and I was at least 1 centimeter dialated! Thank goodness I stayed. It gave me hope! The doctor still gave me the go ahead to go home - yet this time it was followed with a dose of sleeping medicine to help me sleep easier through what would probably be 'active labor' come a few hours into the early morning and the prediction that I would be back in their care within the next 12-24 hours. We call the parents to tell them the news. My Mom, Dad and younger sister, Hannah, are packed and ready to go at the next call while Kyle's parents cut their road-trip short and drive immediately up from San Jose, California, only to arrive less than 24 hours later - ready and waiting.

That was 2 days ago and it has been a roller-coaster ride. Katie stayed Monday night at the Emerson's once Kyle and I realized that we'd probably be back at the hospital in the middle of the night. We were packed and ready to role at any moment...

Nothing. I woke up Tuesday morning to nothing more exciting than the realization that it was 7:45AM and there was no little girl calling 'Mama!' from the other room. I was frustrated and rather discouraged - but not without hope that if I cleaned the entire house this baby would be on his way out in no time. 10:00AM rolled around... Noon... it was then that I called Jesseca and said to bring Katie home. I was going to go crazy waiting for labor to set in and I wanted life back to normal. Katie came home and took a nap - as did I... she and I went back over to Jesseca's in the afternoon while Kyle took a nap... I went grocery shopping on the way home and rented a movie to watch... we put Katie to bed... and continued our normal nightly routine of hanging out and watching some television interspersed with good conversation.

Tuesday night, early AM: I sit up quickly when I realize the pillow I had between my knees was drenched - completely drenched. I throw it on the floor and feel the bed. It's drenched. I wake Kyle up and ask him to turn on the light, 'quickly'! He exclaims, 'did your water break?!' He stared at the drenched sheets and pillow then looked me up and down. I tore off the boxers I had on and they were nothing more than very sweaty. My shirt looked as though I'd been through the shower fully dressed - but nothing else pointed towards my water breaking. Kyle and I scowled, I changed my clothes and climbed back into bed - in the least, hoping for a good night's sleep if not 'active labor'!

Wednesday, March 8th, 2006: It's Kyle's day off and he spends it struggling with the emotional roller-coaster happening within his own home while coping with a horrible head cold. We decide early on that we will act like it is yet another NORMAL day. We will get on the ferry to Bainbridge Island, borrow a friend's trailer, and go pick up a crib that we purchased in Poulsbo. As we drive to the ferry dock in Edmonds, I admit to Kyle that I'm a little bit nervous considering the state of my contractions and the amount of pain they are causing me. He quickly admits that he was feeling the same way but didn't want me to think that he thought he 'knew my body better than I do', and thus, went along with going to pick up the crib praying that we would not regret it in the end while going into labor going the WRONG WAY on a ferry across the Puget Sound. I reprimand him for holding it in while at the same time I sympathize with him because he was right... humbling how that works. He knows me well. We decide to call off the plans to pick up the crib - Kyle flips a u-turn and we are on our way back home.

We decide to go to Best Buy and Starbucks in an attempt to keep my mind occupied and my body moving - we were wanting to urge these contractions on! It worked! They were painful and close together yet once I sat down or relaxed, they subsided as well.

Wednesday night, 8:15PM: We are at home, Katie's in bed and I've dealt on and off with intense pains from contractions. Sometimes my back hurts and my tailbone feels as though it might pop right off - but like I said, it's not consistent intense pain and I do not feel the need to call the doctor concerning anything that my body's doing. I will go out and sit with Kyle and watch TV and keep my fingers crossed that my body simply decides on it's very own that TONIGHT IS THE NIGHT!

If not, I see the doctor for my regular prenatal check-up tomorrow at 9:45AM. At least I'll know something more than my body's choosing to tell me.

Icecream and blocks...

Last week was beautiful, so me, Katie, and the dogs packed up and headed to Coldstone Creamery right here near our house. Yep, I got my usual - Chocolate Icecream with gummie bears. It was wonderful... and the part that I love the most is that they're NEVER out of chocolate icecream and gummie bears! Nobody likes it but me! Well, Katie likes it... but right now anything with sugar, or salt for that matter, is a 'treat' to her. I know, I'm a little over zealous about her eating only healthy food... for example, macaroni and cheese with turkey franks.

Katie and I get quite a bit of time together so I thought it only fair to share that she and Kyle have wonderful moments together as well... as you can see. Just before this picture, Kyle had forcefully taken all of Katie's orange blocks and added them to "his" tower... Katie then open-field tackled him and ransacked his masterpiece in order to retrieve every last orange block. She patiently built her orange tower back up again only to have her Dad at her again to let him have some back. We're (Katie and I) currently working with Kyle on sharing.

"It's over..."

Those were the words my Dad so vividly remembers hearing from his father at 12:15am, November 19th, 1997. My Grandma Berges had been diagnosed with brain cancer and it claimed her life in a matter of months once it took residence in her physical body. She was an energetic, loving, fireball of a lady that couldn't be tamed when it came to her grandkids or the places she and Grandpa decided to travel to. My Grandpa Berges followed her in death in June of 2002 - and oh, what incredible memories we will forever have of he and my grandmother together and a wonderful many more of him during the years after she passed. I continue to miss the two of them so dearly.

I have taken that pain and desire for their presence and have transfered it to Kyle's grandmother, Marian Schei. I have spoken about her so recently and I am writing this evening to say, once again, that "it's over". Grandma had been unconscious for the last two days and had received no nourishment - liquid or otherwise. She was given about 24 hours just yesturday evening minutes before I put Katie down for bed and Kyle and I sat down to enjoy our Valentine's dinner. She, being the stubborn lady she has always been, held on tight until between 5:00PM and 5:30PM this evening. In a moment she just stopped breathing and what I'm sure was a quiet moment for those in the hospital room was a moment where all of our lives outside continued as they had only minutes before - grocery shopping, going to get a movie to watch, carrying Katie on our shoulders, checking out... and then the phone rang.

You know, everything shifts at that moment. Everything is so quickly put into perspective - the grocery lady who seems in a bad mood is just in a bad mood and you don't have time to be self conscious about whether or not it's something you did on your way through her line... the price on take-out, which you so rarely indulge in, is surprisingly not a factor in what you decide to get... and the smile from the guy in the car that let's you 'go' even though it wasn't your right-of-way seems almost TOO nice but you don't have the time to think about it really... you just 'go' without more than a courteous flick of the wrist - without a smile or nod and maybe, just maybe, with a catch in your throat and a well of tears forming above each of your lower eyelids. NOTHING really matters for a few moments except that you exist and you just need to find your way through the crowd so you can get somewhere safe, shake yourself into reality, and begin the mourning/healing process.

Katie's in bed, Kyle and I have finished our take-out, and he is working on a Sudoku puzzle while I blog. We will sit down and watch a movie as soon as I'm finished. At least I think we will. It may surprise us when we sit motionless for a few moments how impactful the last couple hours have been - and we may find ourselves crying and talking until we can't keep our eyes open. That would be good, too.

Once again, God bless you, Grandma. Thank you for the moments we shared and I can't wait to share them with our son. I'm sure Katie will tell them best.

Valentine's Dinner

Kyle's artistic skills in the kitchen manifested themselves in the form of a sexy Valentine's Day dinner last night.

Heart-shaped Tofu baked in a mixture of butter, white wine, paprika, curry, salt and pepper laid over a bed of sticky white rice... a sexy red & white salad made of grapefruit, apples, watermelon, a blend of dried cherries, blueberries, cranberries and strawberries tossed with chopped mint leaves and chocolate shavings... and last, but not least - as asparagus is my favorite vegetable - asparagus baked in the same dish as the tofu and beautifully placed, almost ornamentally, on the dinner plate as a final touch.

You may not be familiar with tofu as a main dish for dinner - not to mention a Valentine's dinner! Yes, Kyle could have decided that the red and white theme he so carefully orchestrated would be more appealing had it delivered a delicately slivered piece of rare flank steak marinated in red wine, garlic and other tantalizing seasonings... but no, my husband knows me well. Although I don't dare limit the foods I enjoy to what could be a boring vegan diet, he KNEW that tofu could seduce me just as easily as a juicy steak if done properly. Boy, was he right. He also knew that a juicy steak is extremely PREDICTABLE! On the contrary, I couldn't have guessed what would be prepared for me had I all the ingredients laid out before me!


As I carefully finished off my salad, Kyle walked to the stove and flipped on the burner - having already placed a pot of cream on it prior to serving dinner. He sat down and we chatted about this and that for a few minutes before he got up, pulled previously prepared chocolate shavings from the cupboard and melted them with the simmering cream... yep, fresh strawberries and melted Hawaiian chocolate helped us finish the last sips of our white wine and wrap up our dining experience with nothing less than perfection.

Now, having invited you over for my husband and I's Valentine's dinner, I will escort you quickly out the front door and say that I won't be available for the rest of the evening. Katie's in bed, the dishes can wait until tomorrow and my Valentine is --- hmmmm... I think I know where to find him.

Hope your Valentine's Day was as special and memorable as mine.

The Visit

I think today was "The Visit" - and by that I mean that I do not believe we will see Grandma again before she passes away. Wednesdays are Kyle's day off and although every Tuesday evening we attempt to lay out our 'to dos' for the following day, those 'to dos' get shifted when it comes to spending time with Grandma Schei. (Photo to the right: taken September 2004 - 4 generations. Marian Schei, Daryle Schei, Kyle Schei, Catherine "Katie" Schei.)

You know, the original thought this morning of stopping by the hospital to see Grandma was quick - light almost - in the way it was suggested. At the moment it came out of my mouth I had no grasp of how much it would impact, most possibly, the rest of my life and my outlook on death. We parked, stepped outside into the beautiful, almost-Spring, sunny weather. It smelled fresh and crisp, but where the sun hit my body I felt that rush of warmth - on the broadness of my back under my jacket, across my face as I squinted against it, soaking through the layers on my arm as I walked around the side of the car. Kyle unbuckled Katie from her seat and handed me the diaper bag as she eagerly wriggled herself free. He joked with me about walking like I had a wooden leg since my leg had fallen asleep and I really needed to take it slow so as not to attract too much attention from others in the parking lot. We chuckled with each other, took each other's hand, and made our way into the Main Entrance of Stevens Hospital in Everett, Washington.

We stepped into the elevator and pressed '8' while the doors closed behind us. We spent the next few moments explaining to Katie where we were and who we were going to see. It's really been amusing - ANYTIME someone mentions 'great grandma' or 'grandma', Katie immediately follows it up with inquiries as to where "papa" is. We smiled and explained that we would not see papa today because he was sleeping after a long night awake with Great Grandma. (I think she has a 'thing' for both of her papas - interpretation: Grandpa.)

We made our way to Grandma's single-occupant room and walked in. She lay in her bed behind the half-drawn curtain so as not to be privy to everything happening just outside in the hallway - nurses darting back and forth, other visitors stretching their legs and gathering their thoughts about THEIR loved ones, the dogs on leashes prancing up and down the hallway during their weekly visit to the Oncology floor, etc. She is laying with her legs tucked under a pillow and her arms resting on her belly. She is thin. The bed is elevated just enough so that she feels interactive and a part of things although she spends much of her time roaming in and out of consciousness. Her hair is clean but sticks straight back from her forehead as many people have spoken comforting words into her ear while running their hand gently over her forehead and back over her head, or they've simply used it as a way of caressing her as she falls back asleep for what may be the last time.

The 'edge' is gone. Grandma's frustrations about her body and the cancer that has taken over, her irritation towards anyone who tries to care for her TOO much - which simply means more than her dignity can handle, her brash comments about anything or anyone... all have simply vanished and all that's left is a frail, meek, beautiful spirit that speaks oh so softly and soaks in only the most precious of moments. She keeps her attention on Katie and wants to make sure that Katie is close by - they speak to each other in another language about the baby in Mommy's tummy, about the stuffed bird that chirps when you squeeze it, about kissing the teddy bear, about holding hands, about ANYTHING!, and each of them thoroughly enjoys the company of the other - it's written all over their faces. I take a moment to step out into the hallway and speak with Aunt Barb who enlightens me to the latest information - the simple fact that Grandma's not so sure everyone ELSE is ready for her to go. The fact that Grandma needs to be told, "it's ok to go." My throat catches and I ask myself, 'is Grandma onto something? ARE we ready? Is Katie ready? Is Kyle ready?' I think for a moment to make sure I'm not about to tell my grandmother something that isn't true. 'Yes, I'm ready. We are all ready.' I walk back in with a different agenda than I had walked into the room with only minutes before when we arrived. I sit down at Marian's side and gently grab her hand, she turns her head ever so slowly towards me and peers at me from underneath her heavy eyelids. I think she knows I have something to say and before I have a chance to speak she says, "Krista." She licks her lips and takes a deep breath. She continues, "I don't have..." another long sigh and deep breath, "many hours to go." I smile with a peace that God is WITH ME. I tell her that I know and it's ok. Katie jumps from Kyle's lap and around the end of the bed into my arms - she wants to be a part of the conversation that Grandma and I are having. I affirm in her that Katie will be telling her baby brother (name inserted here because we told Grandma on Monday) all about her Great Grandma Schei. Katie points to my belly when I say her brother's name and Grandma smiles peacefully. With a few more shifts in conversation and events such as getting Katie some more juice, Grandma insisting that we get Katie a cookie (there were always cookies on top of Grandma's fridge that Katie was allowed to eat), and readjustments of the bed, Kyle and I switch sides so that I can sit in the chair to her left and he stands opposite me. Barb takes Katie to go look at the puppy roaming the hallway so as to give Kyle and I some alone time. This is it. This is the moment. My heart is racing and I pray for courage. How do I convey to Kyle what we need to be using this moment for? He doesn't know that Grandma needs his 'release' so I begin speaking to Grandma in hopes that Kyle will understand and assume the same posture. I whisper to her the 'release' that God lays on my heart and she listens so intently - a calm comes over her and I look at Kyle. "Kyle will you pray please." Kyle bends over Grandma's face and asks quietly, "Grandma, can we pray with you?" She responds with a confused look on her face and Kyle repeats his question. The moment she comprehends what Kyle is asking permission for she quickly lets go of my hand and takes Kyle's one hand in both of her's. She's surprisingly energetic all of a sudden and with such thirst she shakes his hand and says, "oh please! Yes! Please!" She stares at Kyle's face with desperation as she awaits the next few seconds before he begins to pray. She is so hungry for prayer! I've never seen her like this before! I begin to cry and Kyle smiles at his grandmother as he looks into her eyes and begins to pray.

It is an incredible time of communion with the Living God. He touched us. He was there with us. For a moment I thought that maybe everything would just stop. The machines would go quiet, the room would be completely empty, the sounds right outside the window would fade away and we just may get the opportunity to see God for a moment with Grandma. It was so intense for me. I will never in my lifetime forget what that felt like. We opened our eyes and Grandma sat in complete stillness. Peace. Calm. Katie's wonderful voice brought us so sweetly back to the earthly moment as she entered the room - perfect timing, Katie. Perfect timing. We spent only minutes after that prayer in the room with everyone. We caressed Grandma's hands and forehead and kissed her face for one last time, as did Katie. I walked from the room light as a feather and briefly chatted with Uncle Loren who was right outside. Down the elevator and back out into the fresh, crisp almost-Spring air. There was almost a gallop in my walk while at the same time a dense-ness about my spirit. Kyle, Katie and I followed closely behind a family with a young daughter who resembled, what I remember thinking, Katie may look like in a couple of years as we strolled down the sidewalk - long, blonde curly hair halfway down her back. She was wearing a little jean skirt, pink long-sleeved shirt with fur around the wrists and tennis shoes. I remember everything so vividly. The smell was incredible, the wind was chilly, the Subaru was so clean! (I do remember thinking that as we walked towards it), Katie was beautiful as the wind tossed her tuft of curls around her face, my husband was everything I could ever hope for, and I was a lucky woman for getting to meet Marian Schei. We got to the car and I opened my door. I spoke out to Kyle and broke the silence with, "Hey. Why don't you drop Katie and I off at McDonald's while you go exchange your IPod at Best Buy. That way she can play and we can grab a bite to eat while you're busy talking with the sales people." I got in and buckled my seatbelt while Kyle finished putting Katie in the car. He slid behind the wheel, closed the door and agreed that that would be a great idea. We drove away from the hospital with a new perspective on our day - at least I know I did.

God, thank you for our time. You are the God that gives life and you are the God that takes life. The memories that we share with Marian are only a sample of the incredible love that you have for each of your children. May we never see her again on this side of things but may she rest with You for eternity. God reveal yourself to her if you have not already. Give Kyle and I a peace that can only be explained supernaturally. To You be all the glory.

Amen.

Grandma Marian Schei

She is "Grandma" to Kyle and I and "Great Grandma" to our daughter, Katie. She is "Mom" to Daryle, Loren and Barb, Aunt to their cousins and a sister to many - I believe Grandma had 7 sisters! Close to two years ago, Grandma was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. At the point that we realized chemo was no longer an option, she was given a prognosis of 2-6 months - that was before I gave birth to Katie in September of 2004; before the need for round-the-clock care had been discovered; before the wonderful memories that we now share had been created.

Marian Schei spent most of her life growing up a farm girl in a rural town in North Dakota. Someone once said to me that there are two kinds of beauty - the beauty of a diamond and the beauty of wheat. Marian Schei is the beauty of wheat. She 'gets it'. Her wit and keen sense of humor have outlasted her physical health... just yesturday we sat with her in her hospital room. I sat to her right while she kept conversation with Katie and Kyle on the left. At one moment, Kyle had put Katie down and as Katie rounded the end of the bed towards me, Grandma - having just taken a sip of juice - let out a rather generous belch. Katie paused... looked up at me with her mouth closed but laugh lines appearing... she then began to giggle and point at Great Grandma saying, 'burrr!' I announced to Grandma that Katie had heard her and that she was teaching our children bad manners. Without missing a beat, Grandma said to me that she had assumed that had already happened and this shouldn't be much of a surprise. Kyle and I laughed and Grandma proceeded to burp, not once, but a handful more times. She claimed she felt much better afterwards.

None of us know if this will be a couple more days or a couple more weeks. As we left yesturday, we gave kisses and hugs without the ability to predict whether or not we would see her again.
I wait by my phone, as I'm sure my husband does while he's at work and as I'm sure everyone in the family is doing at this very minute. I spend my time praying for her comfort and her ability to emotionally handle what lies ahead. I beg God to reveal Himself to her and reveal to her the importance of her time here over the last 81 years. May she be able to accept the love we all have for her - and the love that has so strongly been established between she and her great granddaughter. May it bring her solace to know that the son Kyle and I are about to have will be a 'Schei' for the rest of his life - and will carry that name with dignity.

God bless you, Grandma.

"Lifer" Reunion

Hands down, these were two of the quickest days of my entire life. "Time flies when you're having fun" is an understatement for this last weekend. Time flies when you're communing with those who make you laugh even when you're recovering from the stomach flu (unfortunately, me - I've thought a lot about who deserved it more and Jenny was the only one I could come up with); time flies when your body automatically awakens at 7AM but the unfamiliar surroundings reminds you that your baby is at home with Grandma and you can slide back under the covers, cuddle with your husband and await that inevitable moment when your body physically aches from lying down too long; time flies when every corner you turn in the rental house there stands someone so intensely dear to you that the next hour in conversation seems only minutes and you walk away feeling fulfilled and more aware of who you are; time flies when every meal you eat is delicious and prepared with LOVE (thanks Judy Haferbecker for being an inspiration to us all); time flies when you wake up on Sunday morning and get choked up, almost pissed off, that breakfast is ready, the coffee is brewing and everyone is packing the last of their personal items into their bags and rushing down the stairs to gather once more and then within the hour say their 'goodbyes'... time flew, but we've already planned the next reunion for April/May out on Camano Island. None of us can wait.

The weekend began with a trip from Bellingham, two trips from North Seattle, a trip from Portland, and a trip from Whidbey Island... am I right, Jess? We gathered together at The Public House Restaurant after a tiresome drive through the dark and rainy weather. Geoff and Amy, Kyle and I and Holly all made our way from the rental house downtown to the pub where everyone would be showing up to grab a bite to eat. Two by two they sauntered in, shaking off their jackets, searching the restaurant, and inevitably, when 'the table' was spotted, the sweet smile of relief that we were all in the same place again. We casually got out of our chairs and warmly embraced each other with great anticipation for what the next 48 hours would hold for all of us. We traveled from The Public House to a smaller joint a few blocks away where we unintentionally split-up - girls/boys - and sat down catching up on what's been the latest news. Holly and Jenny played a quick game of foosball with some locals as did the boys - the rest of the girls and myself enjoyed our unnoticably uncomfortable wood booths and dove into a conversation on past times and how it all originally got started... you know, the "Lifers". We eventually headed back to the house and one by one headed off to bed when we could no longer keep our eyes open -- we had no idea the beauty that awaited us the following morning.


See, showing up to such a small coastal town well after dark - and not to mention the stormy weather - no one knew which way was up or down! Well, I take that back. Dusty and Jenny had been there before. We called their cell phone periodically on Friday evening seeking more specific directions on how to get to The Public House Restaurant - understand this was before they arrived into town - and the only information that Kyle repeated back to me when he got off the phone was 'down by the water', or 'go towards the water'... unfortunately, we had no idea if that was to the left or right of us!

We awoke on Saturday morning to this splended view of the coast and lighthouses in the distance. We had a large wraparound porch and an unobstructed view of the old buildings across the lawn. It was incredible. We spent Saturday preparing meals, taking walks in the cold weather, playing personal games of Sudoku on the couch in front of the fireplace, taking naps, drinking good beer and sipping wine. Our conversations rolled from one to another with ease - some more intense than others... and all with an element of sincerity that we rarely find in this world. One conversation began when one of the 'wives' entered our morning gathering with nothing less than a 'had sex last night' glow on her face and Jenny called it; another conversation centered around the fact that Dave and Dusty both cross their legs at the knees while sitting yet one looks much more feminine than the other while doing so - no names... by the way, your Norwegian pancakes were phenomenal!; others were fleeting conversations about personality traits and whether it was better to play a game together or sit and relax by the fire being introverted if one so wished to be, and whether or not we should have kids at the next gathering, and trivial things such as when lunch or dinner should be ready, and how each person adds such a unique dimension to the entire group - yes, during that conversation we spoke mostly of those who could not join us such as Scott and Darryl. We spoke of religion and Christianity; politics and world views; Seahawks and the Superbowl... overall, the day - the weekend! - was wonderful and all too short. I think everyone would agree.


Thank you to all of our friends who have always been, and will continue to be, a large part of Kyle and I's life. I know you will be the ones we raise our kids with - in fact, you will be the ones to teach our children the most hideous of habits YET the ones that we would entrust our most valuable possessions to! Pretty awesome stuff, wouldn't you agree? I hope that we are not the envy of, but the catalyst for, everyone who desires something real - would they be intentional and committed to those who have come to mean the most to them.

With love, the Scheis. See you all in a couple of months!

Untouchable Moments

When I say "Untouchable Moments", I really mean it. Have you ever had one of those moments where you wish there was some OTHER form of expression besides what is already available to you as a human being? Maybe it was in a moment of joy, maybe it was in a moment of anger, maybe sadness or depression -- I think the only time that I have been able to try and contemplate a 'moment' like what I'm trying to describe to you is when I've been worried that something has happened to Kyle - something fatal. The gut doesn't know what to do at those moments, does it? There's no sufficient expression of your reaction to the 'moment' at hand.


That happened today - a few times. One of the moments was joy, the other was exhaustion. Yes, both derived from my lovely, yet sometimes high maintenance, ham of a daughter. You know the term, "I just want to eat you up, you're so freakin' adorable!"? I believe that saying came from a moment not unlike the one I'm about to describe to you, but that saying still would not have been sufficient - nor appetizing. So, I blog.

Katie has (at the point of the story I will begin from) unpacked her diaper bag, unzipped her Emergency Kit and extracted everything from a thermometer to an alcohol swab. She has in this process thus far tried to stick the thermometer in her own armpit, clip her own fingernails (which I put a stop to rather abruptly) and medicate her own self by actually walking to the medicine cabinet WITH her medicine dropper and signing PLEASE and EAT. But her favorite item is, and has always been, the bulbous nose de-boogerer -- I don't know what the technical name is, but she loves it! With this in hand, she attempts to put on her own winter hat which lands itself a little too low on her forehead, and backwards none the less. I believe in an effort to keep me laughing she begins chasing the dogs throughout the house screaming and growling, landing on top of them whenever possible, pretending to be asleep on their pillow, stealing their chew toys and throwing them, and last of all, grabbing their tails only to have them dart off so fast that Katie is inevitably thrown face down on the floor in a heap of laughter after attempting to hold on even when the outcome looked bleak. The picture up and to the right was taken once all the drunkeness seemed to be slowing a little...


The other moment - exhaustion. Why does Katie need ME when she's got Geoffrey the Giraffe, Duckie, Avocado (the frog) and her "blankie"? At a moment like that I just stop and stare at her with this look of absolute BLANK on my face... there is no sufficient reaction to how I felt at the moment I snapped this picture of her on the couch after OUR too short of a nap...

I'm sure I will continue to have these kinds of moments - moments when I can't express the gratitude I have for the health and lively spirit of my daughter or the downright exhaustion of being tired, sick, 8 months pregnant, AND trying to parent a somewhat DRAMATIC little girl of 16 months.