Spicy Magnolia

Morning with Brennan

Howdy, dear Internet peeps! How was your Christmas? After spending a week and a day in San Antonio with my folks, we are back home as of late this morning. I am working like a mad woman putting all of our Christmas decorations away, organizing and cleaning before 11 p.m. tonight. I’m afraid, however, that the cleaning will have to wait until tomorrow…only because I don’t want the loud vacuum waking Brennan up once he goes to bed. But I might go ahead and do it. I know, it’s a risk. But the peace of mind having everything done may very well be worth it. I can’t rest until it’s all done. You can pity my husband whom I put to work until it’s all done…and to my satisfaction. Again, because my mind can’t settle otherwise. It’s a good thing they don’t have husband labor laws because I would be in violation of every single one of ‘em and be thrown into the slammer until the end of time.

While I ask of my hubby to put his nose to the grindstone on my behalf, he doesn’t ask of me anything. Instead, he blesses me with projects he selflessly works on into the wee morning hours, like this one I received for Christmas. It’s a humdinger and worth five minutes of your time. Although I might be biased. But trust me, it’s worth your time.

Enjoy!

Itchin’ for More

Matt and I are blessed to celebrate our seventh wedding anniversary today! Maybe it’s just me, but I can’t help but think of the phrase most of you are likely familiar with:  the “seven year itch”, a term which signifies a declining interest in the monogamous relationship, or taking a close evaluation of it. Sadly, I read something that because of the alarming increase in divorces and the new average length of a marriage, the phrase should more appropriately be called the “two year itch”. But I digress.

I’ll humbly confess that this past year has probably been one of our top two difficult years of marriage (our other being our second year of marriage). Being given the greatest gift we’ve received in our precious babe, particularly after six years of being just “us”, didn’t come without its adjustments, communication quirks, stress, hiccups, and rollercoaster emotions. And the good Lord knows there were emotions. Lots of ‘em. Just the same, because of that precious bundle, it’s also been the best year of our lives. So today we celebrate not just the fun, wonderful memories of our courtship and marriage (as pictured by each significant moment below), but also the more difficult, stressful times that we’ve walked through together, completely by the grace of God.

The only way I’m itchin’ is itchin’ for more! Happy Anniversary, my love! You are a gift beyond my wildest dreams!

I’ll Never Be the Same Again

Describing myself as a baby person, I would not. I was nowhere in the same arena of passion for kids and babysitting as our lovely sitter who sweetly showed up on our doorstep this week carrying a Christmas package for Brennan, of which he’s already ripped part of the paper. Is my lack of enthusiasm for babysitting indicated by the fact that I sadly cannot recall the names of the few children I watched? Poor kids. But blessed is Brennan!

So if someone told me a few years back that I would be head over heals for a little baby, I wouldn’t have believed them. Well, I’d be more offended and hurt, truth be told, because that comment seemed saturated with assumption to me at the time. Assumption that we’d even have kids, that we’d even be able to have children since we were going on two years of trying, and well, that I’d get to a place of enjoying a little whippersnapper.

Eleven months of living with a baby, however, I am different. I will never be the same again. There are still days I think about our previous life before children and the cherished time that was for us as a couple, sometimes missing it. But those days are few in number. And I wouldn’t trade how I’m different, nor the reason I am changed, for anything. Nothing.

Eleven months later, I am ever more smitten with a baby boy, who looks more like a toddler these days than a newborn babe. His choppy hair I whacked is growing out, nearly ready for a trim by someone other than his mother. His smile is as big as ever, his energy level more than what I realized.  He’s learning something new all of the time, including various imitations such as holding objects or his hand up to his ear like he’s answering the phone; peek a boo; or brushing his hair with my brush. He tries to assist with buckling his car seat belts and dressing. There are times when he stands on his own, unassisted, and he walks around furniture, but the interest in walking or taking a few steps towards us seems null right now.  

Fascinated by pictures, he’ll crawl over to pictures of our friends and family and point to them. Still ever the observer, he sizes up his surroundings and the people he’s with before waving ‘hello’ or giving them ‘five’. My most favorite thing in the whole wide world is asking him for a kiss and he’ll lean into my face, sometimes with an open, drool dripping mouth.  His favorite instrument at music class for the moment: the drum.

Always a favorite game of his is “I’m gonna get you”/chase, but a new one that’s recently developed is taking things in and out of boxes/containers. In and out. In and out. I will also find Tupperware containers underneath the Christmas tree, or on a kitchen chair. Or maybe I’ll find an ornament he enjoys (a wooden, European Santa) on the piano. My friend, Corrie, told me that she thought the nine-eleven month age range were some of her most favorite months. I wholeheartedly agree! 

Yes, I am different. I enjoy a baby. A baby! Who woulda thunk it?! Certainly not I. But this whippersnapper I’ve been given is most assuredly a good reason why I’ll never be the same again.

Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow. James 1:17 (NASB)

We Made It Through…

If you’re a boy, you should proceed with caution. Or click to another webpage. Just forewarning you. ‘Cause I’m nice like that. <grin>

We made it through…

nearly 28,000 minutes of pumping milk for Brennan! (Which is about 466 hours, or a little over 19 days of 24/7 pumping)

roughly 300 36 gallons of milk stored at one time or another in our fridge or freezer (sorry everyone, I totally did my math wrong! It was only 36. I may have felt like a cow, but I was not literally a cow!!!)

a hundred or so plastic milk containers that made up our freezer stash

the swelling emotions of having a baby who wouldn’t latch and deciding to go the route of pumping

10.5 months of pumping (for seven months, I was pumping 5-6 times a day, then down to 4, 3, 2 and 1)

schedule juggling in order to do things outside the home in the midst of pumping, feeding, and naps

soreness of occasional clogged ducts

with joy in being able to give my Brennan his “milks”, which he absolutely loved!

the fear of not being able to provide enough milk, seeing the Lord faithfully provide countless of times

pumping in airport bathroom stalls

with wretched posture from my back being slumped over to keep the horns in place

in utter amazement at how the Lord made our bodies

humbled at the sight of seeing my pumping horns be the first thing friends and family see as they open up the fridge

giving up dairy after Brennan’s horrible tummy aches led us to discover he has an aversion to dairy

laughing at the weird noises that would come from having the horns positioned off center <grin>

Thanksgiving afternoon, when after giving Brennan his first big bottle of formula, he screamed for nearly an hour because of an upset tummy. His momma didn’t even think about the dairy products in formula!

tears that flowed after making the decision to stop pumping and seeing Brennan turn away from the soy formula we bought later that afternoon on Thanksgiving (thankfully, he has since grown accustomed to it, but his momma isn’t quite there yet)

a few (thankfully!) moments of pumping when the sound of the machine grated on my every nerve

airport security without any hitch…it was determined my milk was just that: milk

with an aching heart while pumping those last few times, knowing a precious season was coming to a close

mourning when packing the pump away, knowing that, while at times inconvenient and difficult, pumping was a gift I delighted to give Brennan

with the peace and assurance that only God in His sweet tenderness could give, knowing very clearly how He helped me every step of the way

with deep, deep gratitude for Matt, who went above and beyond in his service and words of encouragement to spur me on and help me not feel so alone in this journey. And to my Momma, too, who always cheered me on, and who would sit on the floor with me, keeping me company when she was around

truly thankful, knowing I wouldn’t have changed a thing, that if I could go back and do it all over again, I would in a heartbeat.

 

Link Love

Hey, all! I got home not too long ago from lunch with my friend, Emily. We planned on eating at Thundercloud Subs with our boys, but we made a last minute change and went to the Cheesecake Factory. What a treat for us two moms to enjoy a tasty lunch and cheesecake (of course!) with some good little boys, who enjoyed playing outside in the dirt just prior to our meal. If I was quick enough, I would have taken a picture of the boys crawling together; Parker (1.5 years old) reverted back to crawling to play with Brennan and encourage him along. It was awesome!

I brought home a piece of cheesecake for Matt, but I have yet to determine if I’ll actually share that bit of information with him. If he reads this before tonight, then I’ll let him have it. But if somehow that cheesecake gets left in the fridge through the night, well, too bad, babe. <grin>

I just have a few, fun random links and quotes to mention to you that you might find interesting.

I’ve immensely enjoyed some of Pioneer Woman’s recipes lately. They’re simple and yummy. If you’re in the mood for a filling soup to warm your innards, look no further than her Simple, Hearty Chicken and Rice Soup (the only thing I omitted was the food coloring). I’ve also tried her pot roast, which was simple and so good. The meat was very tender and flavorful. It was delightfully aromatic as well. Brennan was most keen on the carrots in the pot roast and absolutely loves the chicken and rice soup.

My dear neighbor has made these pretzel treats for us for some Christmas goodies, and I am IN LOVE! Last year, I ate the entire bag she gave us before Matt got home from work. Do you see a trend here? He either tattled on me or I confessed my addiction to those suckers (I don’t remember which it was) because she sweetly made us more! This year, I made sure Matt got a couple. Literally. They were gone the same night she gave them to us though. I have since made some for gifts and yes, for me to munch on occasionally, too. They are amazing. And terrifyingly addicting! Are you all making any Christmas treats that you love?

I know it may seem like I just emerged from a cave, but I recently discovered Pandora, the live music stream radio through the Internet. I have a whole new slew of Christmas music to listen to! Do you all have any favorite stations you listen to?

I mentioned in my last post about the Advent readings we’re going through as a family. Last Tuesday, the theme of the Scripture verses (Isaiah 13:9-14; Matthew 24:27-32; Revelation 6:1-3, 12-17) was “The Coming of the Lord”. Along with the verses was a quote from Dietrich Bonheoffer's The Coming of Jesus in our Midst. It was stirring and thought-provoking, definitely worth pondering:

We have been so accustomed to the idea of divine love and of God’s coming at Christmas that we no longer feel the shiver of fear that God’s coming should arouse in us. We are indifferent to the message, taking only the pleasant and agreeable out of it and forgetting the serious aspect, that the God of the world draws near to the people of our little earth and lays claim to us. The coming of God is truly not only glad tidings, but first of all frightening news for everyone who has a conscience…Only when we have felt the terror of the matter can we recognize the incomparable kindness. God comes into the very midst of evil and of death and judges the evil in us and in the world. And by judging us God cleanses and sanctifies us, comes to us with grace and love. God makes us happy as only children can be happy. God wants always to be with us, wherever we may be—in our sin, in our suffering and death. We are no longer alone; God is with us.

Ok, I need to start keeping a running list of random musings so I’m not relying on my increasingly unreliable memory. But this will have to suffice for now. We’re headed out for a walk with Miss Molly, and for fun, I think I’ll put her Christmas jingle bell collar on. She might hate me forever for it, though.

 

 

A Christmas to Remember

Some Christmases stick out more than others, don’t they? Like the Christmas you received exactly what you were pining for, like a fish tank with real fish to which to tend. The Christmas your brother cut his head open on the edge of the coffee table after jumping on the couch, causing you to throw up in anxiousness for him. The first Christmas you spent away from home. The one where you walked down the aisle to your groom. The Christmas when part of your family was unemployed and Christmas, albeit slightly different, was the most meaningful and simple. Or the Christmas you were waddling with a watermelon-sized baby in your belly and your house flooded two weeks before that baby was supposed to make his grand appearance. Most of those memories emote giddy excitement and sweet nostalgia, while others (namely two) spark nausea. And if there’s any question about which two, well, let me just say blood and flood.

This Christmas I’ve entered into new territory. That melon-sized baby is no longer in my belly (thank the Lord), but is rather a two and a half foot moving target with eyes that light up at the sparkly lights and whose fingers love to grasp hold of the cushy needle-pointed nativity figures on the coffee table. There is so much to savor, to capture. Brennan won’t remember his first Christmas, but with the simple wonder of watching a child during Christmas, it certainly makes it, for me, a Christmas to remember.

These are just a few things I treasure thus far this season:

• Last Wednesday night, we bundled up and went to a nursery to buy our Christmas tree, named Farley (the nursery-given name). I mustered up the motivation to tackle the decorating the same night after Brennan went down to bed. Reading Amanda’s story here about her little boy Jackson waking up to a decorated, lit tree, inspired me. I was pleasantly surprised that it didn’t take too long. I suppressed as much of my perfectionism as possible. I would’ve cursed the lights, however, if there wasn’t a simple solution to be had for the incongruous strand that didn’t plug into any of the others. I was elated to get Brennan out of bed the next morning to show him our Christmas tree. He’s shown much interest in some of the ornaments and particularly Gaga’s hand-made nativity tree skirt. He doesn’t quite understand how come they don’t come off the skirt.

 

• A couple of weeks ago, the two of us ventured to Hobby Lobby where I let Brennan pick out an ornament for his little tree in his room. While my eyes were scanning the rows of ornaments, there was one that stuck out to Brennan immediately. His tiny finger pointed directly at a big face of a Collie. I grabbed it to let him play with it, slightly amused and pleased he obviously loves dogs, while I looked for another option thinking any other ornament but that one (not ‘cause it’s A&M related, because I am a faithful Aggie fan, but because it was a big, huge dog head! I am seriously having to make up with my family after my “We’re going to the national championship game” comment). With a small snowman in hand, I turned to leave, whereupon the Collie fell to the floor and started playing the TX A&M fight song. I didn’t realize it was supposed to be TX A&M’s mascot, Reveille! It even sheds. Brennan had fur all over his hands from playing with it. So out we walked with a shedding, fight-song-playing, huge dog head of a Christmas ornament for 2009. Just look, it’s almost as big as the bears:

Here’s Brennan’s first ornament for our big tree from my parents and the one below it is one I found at Hallmark to mark his first Christmas.

 

• After two attempts in which tears and exasperation ensued (for both me and the boy) to take some pictures by the tree in one of my favorite outfits of Brennan’s, we finally captured some happy shots.

• We can walk into a crowded store, and while my heart may sink or easily become anxious at the thought of standing in a long line with an 11 month old, he instead is all smiles and waves, having the pure ability to transform even the grumpiest, impatient of sorts into friendly faces.

• One of my most favorite times of the day during this season is when we give Brennan his last bottle of the day, peaceful Christmas music is playing in the background, the tree lights are on and the rest of the lights are dimmed. We sit around the kitchen table, light the Advent candles, go through our Advent readings, and pray together while Brennan falls asleep in his Daddy’s arms. (This is during breakfast, but you can see the Advent wreath).

• It’s also been the tender, simple moments with Brennan that will be etched in my heart as seasons pass: singing “Silent Night” on the player piano; snuggling together reading The Three Trees (a powerful tale); playing with the nativity scenes together and talking about each of the characters; gazing at his little tree together with the lights on in the quiet peacefulness of his room; taking him outside to show him all of the beautiful lights his Daddy worked so hard to put up; staying warm and toasty by the fire in our PJs while it’s cold and drizzly outside; enjoying our walks in the cool of the day when the sun finally comes out, looking at everyone’s Christmas decorations; and lots and lots of snuggling.  Oh yes, there have been rough moments, days when he’s clingy and crying and miserable because of teething and what not, but that’s not what I’ll remember about this Christmas. This, this is the image I’ll remember about Christmas:

What are some of the things you’ll treasure about this Christmas so far?

A Sweet Reunion

Not too long ago, a group of six college girlfriends reunited for an extended weekend that befitted the song Girls Just Want to Have Fun. Our Country House reunion (Country House was the name of the house we all lived in together our senior year at college) was in early October, but I have yet to write about our memorable get together. So for my own record-keeping sake, I’m simply going to publish the itinerary I put together for these special girls. I also wish I could show you the six pages of grocery list items that I worked on for those two consecutive weekends of Brennan’s dedication and the Country House reunion when we had a house full of visitors. It’s more proof of why I need to work on my waistline than anything else. Well, and why I could drive to the H.E.B. on Louis Henna blindfolded. But I won’t ever attempt that. Unless someone gave me a  million dollars. Then maybe I would. If no one else was on the road.

Thursday:  Everyone arrived, including Tracy’s itty bitty new baby girl, Emie! Brennan was very fascinated with her and wanted to ‘pat, pat’ her like he does Molly. Chicken parmesan, salad, garlic bread, and chocolate cupcakes with chocolate cream filling from Ann’s Kitchen decorated with “Welcome to Texas” written across the top was their welcome dinner. If you can believe it, the six of us girls, Emie, Brennan, and Matt all fit! In the house, that is.

Friday: The mornings were leisurely for everyone to wake up in their own time, enjoy some coffee, homemade granola, and an assortment of mini zucchini and pumpkin muffins that my momma made. She must have made at least a hundred of those suckers. I asked for mini muffins, not even thinking how mini muffins take lots more time to bake to get through all of the batter. But mini muffins are simply pop-in-your-mouth yumminess. And because she’s my momma, she made them for us, gladly. They are all gone. They’ve been gone a long time.

For the weekend, we rented a large SUV for all of us girls to fit into one car. That was a great decision! The thing was gigantic…it even had a video screen that acted as a rear view mirror when I was backing up. Fancy shmancy car it was. It’s long gone, too.

Our first stop on Friday was Mt. Bonnell to get a good view of the city. I told the girls to wear good walking shoes because there were hundreds of steps they’d climb to get to the overlook. My memory served me wrong. It was more like twenty steps. And I need to brush up on my knowledge of the city before guests arrive. I was answering, “I don’t know”, way too often.

I gave them a quick tour through part of the University of Texas. Which, by the way, have you heard? We’re going to the national championship! Of course, I’m an Aggie fan, but goodness gracious, I’m a Texan and I’ll be cheerin’ for them Longhorns like crazy. Especially against an SEC team. <grin> Oh, I just stuck that in to rile some of you up.

The “Mecca of Whole Foods” is a place we usually take all of our visitors because it’s so over the top. That’s where we had lunch. It took us nearly an hour to just decide what we were all going to eat.

We headed home to hang out and get ready for our murder mystery dinner party. Matt joined us, as did my friend, Jill (brave soul that she was to come and not know any of the girls!), to make the party complete with all eight characters. It was set in the 1950s and we each got dressed up to play our parts. We grilled out burgers and had ice cream to top it off. It was so much fun! We laughed so much as we stepped into character and tried to solve the mystery; the costumes themselves were enough to make the evening golden.

Saturday: We hung out together in the morning…the weekend was a nice blend of rest and activity, I thought. I think everyone went back home fairly renewed, even the mommas of the group. Matt gave me a treat by staying home on Friday to take care of Brennan, and he even offered to babysit Emie on Saturday, too. Matt’s mom and aunt came in from Dallas to help him with the two kiddos while us girls ventured in the pouring rain to Gruene. We listened to some live music at the oldest dance hall in Texas, Gruene Hall, and played some incredible, attention getting rounds of “Jenga”. Then we had a fabulous meal at The Gristmill.

Sunday:  We all went to church together and then enjoyed some Hawaiian/Mexican at Hula Hut. The girls definitely couldn’t have left Austin without some comida Mexicana, but the Hawaiian added a little twist to it. We left feeling like stuffed roly-polies. We took it easy the rest of the day and enjoyed Paula Dean’s taco soup for dinner, which is scrumptious and easy to make. I think Sunday evening was a highlight for all of us as we fellowshipped together, shared from the heart and prayed together. This was the first time the six of us were all together since Becca’s death, and she was greatly missed. These girls are some of the most special, life-long friends who make me laugh, point me to Jesus, and who love me just the way I am, even when I make dumb comments about rocks (sorry, that’s an inside joke between me and the gals, but it’s apropos).

Monday: We packed a picnic to Zilker Park and took a long walk around Town Lake before making the first couple of runs to the airport. Hillary, Molly, and Lindsey were still around on Monday night for pizza and our Country House signature movie: Return to Me. The rest of the gals left on Tuesday. This weepy gal cried with Brennan on the way home, already missing all of the estrogen that swept through our house those few days. Brennan and Matt probably breathed a sigh of relief to some degree, although, Brennan was a charmer and loved ‘flirting’ with all the girls. It was sad to see them go, but what a gift it was to have all five of them here. Even with our various schedules and global residences, we were able to come together, and that’s somethin’ special. At some point down the road, we hope to all meet up in Prague. We said we’d go there for our 10 year college reunion, which <gasp> is only a year and a half from now! Until then, we have something called the Internet to unite us.

Wrangler and Ree Sightings

This little homebody ventured out by herself last night. Whoa, Nelly! Since Pioneer Woman (PW) announced the cities on her book tour weeks ago, I’ve had my calendar marked for the big day. She recently published a cookbook entitled The Pioneer Woman Cooks: Recipes from an Accidental Country Girl.  And as you probably know, I’m a sucker for a good cookbook. I’ve made a few of her recipes, all of which have been scrumptious. Her magnificent, detailed action shots of the cooking process are quite helpful. PW has written about each of the cities she’s visited for book signings, and as the day approached for her to be in Austin, I found myself getting more excited…and more nervous. I always get freaked out about meeting people I respect, admire, who are authority figures, or people I may not personally know but dream of being friends with one day. I’m a little weird like that.

The signing started at 7 p.m., and I knew people were already arriving as early as 3:45 p.m. to get in line. Simply knowing that made me want to forego the whole thing. But I fought the desire in me to stay home all nestled in with my family. I braved the cold, faced the Austin traffic and the crazy parking situation at the bookstore, and got there at 7:05. As I was squeezing my not-small-enough car into the tight “small car only” space with part of my wheels tucked tightly against the curb, I literally thought to myself, “Oh, Lord, I don’t want to do this. What am I doing here?” But in I went, against all of my own wishes. I felt so out of place.

I entered on the first floor level, was directed to the cashier line to buy the cookbook I’d need in order to get a ticket, and saw in the corner of my eye a familiar face. Is that him? Is that Pioneer Woman’s husband, Marlboro Man? He was behind me browsing some of the book tables so I didn’t have the best angle on his face, so I checked his feet first: yep, cowboy boots. Then I did something I can’t believe I’m going to admit, but it was the first thing that popped into my mind, and I blame it all on Pioneer Woman herself. She writes every now and then about how Marlboro Man’s back end, clothed with a pair of Wranglers, makes her swoon. And then she posts a big ol’ picture of him from the rear for all the world to see. I wish I had the time to search her archives to prove this, but I don’t. Shamelessly, the second most natural thought entered my mind: Look at his bum. Maybe I’ll recognize it from his picture. I. Kid. You. Not.

So my eyes traveled to those pair of Wranglers to see if that would be his tell-tale mark, thanks to his wife. Nope, I didn’t recognize it. Finally, he turned in a direction I could catch his face and confirmed that yes, it was indeed Marlboro Man. Thank goodness that the only man I’ll be able to recognize from his bum is my own husband’s!

I ventured upstairs to receive my purple wristband and came upon hundreds of people, standing and sitting, waiting for Ree to make her appearance. I knew immediately I wasn’t going to stay to get the cookbooks signed as my purple colored wristband would be the last color group to be called upon. If I were 20 again, without a baby to wake up to in the morning, I’d stay. But I’m not that young and vibrant anymore. Simply being swept up by the crowd and anticipating getting to see PW in person was enough for me. And well, there appeared Marlboro Man right before me again. If I’d had the nerves, I would have asked him to sign the book, like several other women did:

My eyes never, never again ventured to his Wranglers!

Ten minutes later, the lovely lady herself appeared to answer a few questions. She would be a delightful person to have for dinner sometime. Would it be rude to make her do the cooking? The Q&A session lasted about 15 minutes, time which allowed us to glimpse her beauty in character and feature, yet unpretentious in demeanor; her humor; and her authenticity. Her four “whippersnappers” were there as well, but this is such an awful picture:

Two questions were asked that I’ve been the most curious about myself: 1) does she read all of her comments (some posts generate up to the tens of thousands of comments) and 2) how does she do it all (a mom of four, wife, homeschooling, blogging about 4-5 posts a day, running a cooking website, etc..,). I’d still like to know. It’s mind-boggling to me all that she does. She works hard, and it’s obvious she has a lot of fun with it, too!

After the Q&A session, I left without anything signed, but content and glad this homebody ventured out for an evening. It was worth it, Wrangler sightings and all.

Thanksgiving Remembrances

Happy December! I can’t imagine a better way to start out this first day of December than with the arctic blast blowing through Austin; Christmas music playing; a fragrant pine candle lit; some much needed time spent with Jesus and the reminders that living “for the greatness of God is to live a great life” and that “His greatness is big enough for the two of us”; a happy, babbling baby crawling about; and a cup of hot tea in hand. It’s only 9:30 a.m. as I’m writing this, but it’s already a glorious December day.

It seems longer than a week ago that we boarded a jet plane for the Oakland/San Francisco area to spend Thanksgiving with Matt’s family, hosted this year by Matt’s sister and her hubby. Despite his ear infection, Brennan traveled amazingly well; you’d never have known the fella was sick. Even the two-hour time change wasn’t an issue. He fell right into Pacific time without a hitch and was much more flexible with the comings and goings and adjustments to his schedule than his momma. Oh, the lessons I learn from that child are a hundred-fold.

I loved how Antique Mommy recapped her Thanksgiving with a list of things she’ll remember, along with a few things that she won’t. Here are some of the highlights, precious moments that will remain etched in my heart over the passing of time from this Thanksgiving.

• Sunset gazing. Our first night there, we drove up to the highest point in Berkeley to watch the sunset over the bay. We enjoyed appetizers and champagne as we toasted to being together as a whole family, the first time in over two years, I think. It was breathtaking and cause for pause.

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• The food. I mean, how can a foodie not remember the food!? Kim has become quite the chef extraordinaire! The girl doesn’t pick simple recipes either, so a lot of time and love went into preparing not just delicious food, but works of art. (These photos were from our picnic and day-outing in Sonoma.)

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• The mornings with my boys. The three of us, along with Papa and Nana, stayed in a house in Berkeley that was graciously shared with us for the week. It had a fantastic view of San Francisco (it’s a bit hazy in the picture below). The three of us were the early morning risers and enjoyed mornings out on the deck. I’ll never forget playing peek-a-boo with Brennan that spurred deep laughter by using Matt as the object to hide behind; how Brennan would lean in towards my face to give me kisses; and what my little boy looked like the morning of his first Thanksgiving.

• Brennan’s ability to brighten lives. I know the sociability of my son will likely vary throughout his young life, but I hope and pray that the friendly outreach he has toward all people, particularly towards those considered unlovely and lonely, will be a character trait he exudes the rest of his life. Right now, Brennan is constantly waving to any passerby, whether or not they take notice. The three of us went out for breakfast on Friday morning, a quiet, drizzly and still morning. As we sat together as a family, laughing and sharing our highlights from the week, there sat a middle-aged lady in the corner of the restaurant by herself. Alone. Buried deep into a book. She could very well have been content and happy. She also could have felt very lonely as she sat solo the day after Thanksgiving. Brennan was persistent in turning around in his high chair to wave at the lady. Between every bite of his pancake and banana, his little body would twist around with his arm and hand extended moving in an up and down motion. She finally caught his eye and a grin appeared at the simple, friendly gesture. I’m not sure how she walked in, but she left her table with a smile on her face that morning.

• The special, beautiful touches. I can name few people who will go out of their way to lavishly make their guests feel welcomed, treating them as the most special people in the world. Kim is one of those people. Along with her hubby, Tom, they have the gift of hospitality. Even with a young toddler, she worked on extra, finishing touches that set the tone for the whole week: personal welcome signs on each of our bedroom doors; gift bags of a picture frame for me and Matt and Thanksgiving bibs for Brennan; notes written on our name cards at the Thanksgiving table; Scripture verses tied to our glasses for each of us to read aloud. She had a few personal helpers that week: Tom, Ruth (Nana), and her younger sister, Melissa, whom I know were all integral behind-the-scenes servants to see Kim’s creativity projects fulfilled!

• Family bonding. This took place over the course of our few days in California, but Thanksgiving Day was the most meaningful as we gathered around the table together to celebrate and give thanks for so many blessings we’ve been given, mainly each other. After the little boys went to bed, each of us went around the room answering a question we’d picked out of a bowl. We shared things we were thankful for; how we’d seen the Lord’s faithfulness demonstrated the past year; and what character trait of the Lord’s had been most evident in our lives right now. Tears and laughter ensued. As Truvy from Steel Magnolias aptly said, “Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion". Hands down, that was the most special moment of the trip for me.

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• Cousins. Seeing Brennan and Jadon play together for the first time! It was our entertainment for most of the week. <grin>

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Things I will likely forget but are kinda fun to mention:

• Ed & Tom both stepped in fresh dog poop on our way to dinner. Thank goodness for baby wipes!

 

• It was a good thing Ed drove slowly to Tom and Kim’s place on Thanksgiving and that we didn’t need to get on the freeway, because look who left my walking shoes on top of the car:

• It was not my best moment: waiting for the Christmas Tree lighting to take place at San Francisco’s Union Square. It was taking forever and well, the excitement of being in the cold with all the Christmas lights with Brennan for the first time quickly wore off with the overwhelming sensation of feeling claustrophobic in the mass of people. And Brennan’s reaction to the tree lighting: he burst into tears because the crowd’s loud cheering scared him. But we got some really cool pictures:

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Any Thanksgiving remembrances (precious moments or likely to forget moments) that you’d like to share?

(You can click on “View Full Album” to see enlarged pictures).