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.

Intentional Time

In the past week I've made a new discovery - one that should, and could, have been discovered much earlier had I chosen to try. Our family gets rollin' in the morning at approximately 6:30am - sometimes sooner for Katie, but she is left alone until, you guessed it, 6:30am. It has been awesome to watch her little body clock adjust - 6:31am she is awake and calling for us! (I also think the furnace in the house is a pre-cursor to her body deciding to wake-up because that comes on at 6:00am -- hmmmm, kind of like my parent's dog, Leo, smelling coffee brewing at 5:30pm - the same time at which he is routinely fed - which in turns sends him into nothing less than a spinning, salivating canine chomping at the bit for his meal... this whole Pavlov thing... I think I will reschedule the furnace. I've just discovered ANOTHER new discovery.)

Anyways, back to the original thought. A week ago our morning routine was getting Katie up and out of bed at the time she awakens, bringing her into our bed with the dream that she'll fall back asleep with us for a few more hours only to discover for the umpteenth time that she won't EVER do that unless she's comatose at which point I throw on my sweats and slippers, begrudgingly walk out into the kitchen with Katie in my arms, pop her milk in the microwave and go sit with her on the couch. My hand inevitably reaches for the remote to watch the morning news and there I sit with my brain in a daze and my cup of freshly brewed coffee glued to my lower lip - a lifeline.

See, at this time Katie has already decided that she's ready to get her day going and is not at all thrilled with Mom's inactivity and even less thrilled with the bloody television becoming the alternative to playing blocks, reading books, or simply conversing with each other in what could be an incredibly intellectual conversation! Therefore, she stands facing the couch with her sippie cup of milk staring at me and signing everything from EAT to BOOK; from trying to talk about Dad and the puppies in the backroom to whining and crying... all for the purpose of getting my attention. At that time I - pardon my french - half-ass my way through giving her attention all for the purpose of getting her to stop whining and violating every sense that I have... doesn't she understand that I'm NOT IN THE MOOD?!

No, she doesn't.

Katie needs our time. She needs to know that she is Mom and Dad's joy; that she is wanted; that she is intriguing and interesting; that she is ENOUGH. God convicted me of this just in the last week and I have experimented with spending my first awake moments of the day investing in my daughter. We wake up, I throw on my already-laid-out sweats and slippers, I walk into Katie's room and lift her out of her crib anticipating the next hour that we have together and talking about what worship music to play and whether to read books or play blocks. We get our milk and coffee and turn on the music. We each grab a big floor pillow and she grabs the tub of Mega Blocks -- we begin building something not unlike the new Seattle library in the middle of our living room. Katie dances and talks gibberish - luckily she regularly interjects a few animal sounds that are familiar to me so that I can understand where she's "going", and in turn, help to initiate further conversation. This becomes the highlight of my day -- and soon enough Kyle awakens to our craziness in the living room finding nothing less than me holding my belly in laughter while Katie climbs all over me with fearlessness or smiling while she learns how to say new animal sounds or...



Yes, even in the last 7 days I've discovered a new level of joy with my daughter and I could continue to list off all the moments for you but I won't. You'll have to experience those on your own - with your own family and friends.

Now it is 9:15pm and Kyle just got home. I must wrap this up because now is my time to be intentional with my husband - it works for marriage too.

Blue's Clues Slippers and a racquetball...

Party for Jacob Aaron

Jacob Aaron Smith, due to arrive on January 24th of this year, surprised his parents and arrived 11 weeks early on November 16th, 2005. Weighing in at 3lbs. 3oz. and measuring 16" long, he was a good-size and the doctors were pleased with his condition considering the incredibly early arrival. He is now 7lbs. 6oz (measured yesturday) and continuing to develop rapidly. The hope is to bring him home within the next 2-3 weeks and I can't imagine how anxious Aaron and Becky are to have this happen!

So, considering the events of the past few months, the baby shower for Jacob was rather forcibly moved from November 12th of 2005 to today, January 14th, 2006. It was a lovely time of encouraging Becky as she has transitioned so rapidly into a rather unusual Mom role, playing ORIGINAL baby shower games, sipping on incredible libations and devouring fine cuisine such as quiche and scones, coffee cake and fruit, deviled eggs and sausage... simply delicious. Held at Becky's sister's home in Carnation, also known as Beau Jardin, we found ourselves enveloped with relaxation and good company; gorgeous grounds and a 'hostess with the mostest'. It was a wonderful three hours - they simply flew by.



Aaron and Becky (left), you have done so much in Jacob's life already and he loves you and KNOWS you, I'm sure of it. Continue to be consistent and persistent in your love towards this little man and may God bless you. Thanks for letting me share in such a wonderful celebration of his life.

The "Lifers"

I am extremely fortunate to have the opportunity to reminisce on my college days with overwhelming bliss. No, it was not full of booze and boys or skipped classes and barely passing grades - it was the growth of kindred friendships and side-splitting laughter; of college-age marriages and raw conversations; of usually-clean practical jokes with usually well received repercussions; of promises to never lose touch and the committment to get together for weekend celebrations once the post-college years arrived.

This year's 4th of July weekend was spent in Dustin and Jenny Haferbecker's backyard in Portland, Oregon. Considering their 850 sq. ft. of living space withIN their home, Jenny suggested everyone bring a tent and we would turn the backyard into our own personal campground. Now realize for just a moment that this is a group of individuals coming from Richland, WA, Seattle, WA, Bellingham, WA, and Portland, OR, just to invest in the lives of those they care deeply about. No, there were no great plans for the weekend, but that's usually the case. We all arrive at the agreed location out of absolute faith that each others' company will be the highlight of our weekend - possibly the highlight of our year.

Let's see, there's Dusty and Jenny, Chad and Lindsay, Scott and Holly, Kyle and I (with Katie), Geoff and Amy (with Emily and Ethan), Tim and Leah, Darryl, Dave, Shawn and Holly, Steve and Cindy, Ben and Jessica - most with the intention of not missing out on a 'get together' - wherever and whenever it may be.


That weekend was full of memories such as roman candles wars, a pony keg of only the best microbrew in Portland (we don't do macrobrew except for Rolling Rock), plastic cups with your weekend-use nickname in permanent marker (labeled lovingly by Dusty and Kyle), baby monitors and late nights on the patio, Otto sausages, the chimnea, Tim Dillman humor and naps in the hammock hanging from the cherry tree.


In three weekends from now we will all meet out on the Olympic Peninsula for a weekend away - all the kids will be with their grandparents and the respective parents will be enjoying a couple evenings as non-preoccupied persons nurturing the friendships that have proven to be solid even after the babies were born; the newly-weds will spend their first evenings amongst the group with their "married" status - which means a whole lot of things; the single(s) will still be single, falling victim to harmless verbal abuse about their marital status which they will battle with untouchable wit; and as a community of close knit lives we will continue the practice of loving each other, luckily in close proximity, for three days.

These are the "Lifers" - we'll be committed to each other for the rest of our lives. We'll continue to expect genuine concern, high priority, unconditional love and transparency from each other without question. I hope you can relate.

Christmas in January

Kyle here. Throughout our marriage we have traded Christmas Holidays between our two families. It is the best way we can think of keeping our holiday from being too hectic. This last Christmas was spent with the Schei's while the Berges' family unveiled a new level of organization. Each of us drew the name of one person to buy gifts for. It helped gift buying remain manageable for everyone. Then we agreed to exchange gifts after we could get everyone in the same town. So here we are from Cleveland, Western Washington, & Central Washington to perform the last element of Christmas. After staring at untouched, skillfully wrapped gifts for two weeks, Krista & I will now get to reap the reward of giving perfectly choosen gifts to our recipients. Sounds prideful... maybe. But you don't know what we bought. We'll let you know how it turns out.