Holding ...

I've decided one of the worst things is sitting on the phone on hold. I've been on hold with United Airlines for 31 minutes and counting.


It's so frustrating because there's NOTHING you can do about it! I could get angry and hang up .... but I lose my place. I could throw things ... but that's not helpful. I could (once and IF I get through) yell at the person on the other end, but they've been dealing with crabby customers all night, so I'm sure that's not very nice. There's no way to get out of it--I have to sit on hold. I could choose to just go to the airport at the scheduled time in the morning, but since they've delayed my flight 2 1/2 hours and I now miss my connection in Denver, I kinda have to talk to someone NOW to get that sorted out in time to travel tomorrow.

So, really, I'm stuck. On hold. Listening to some really boring, really redundant United updates about how amazing they are.

Not so amazing right now, United. Not so amazing.

34 minutes and counting ... and seriously considering just flying to Denver 2 1/2 hours late and dealing with it then.

i love my job i love my job i love my job i love my job ... enough to put up with travel headaches.

Thoughts in my head

I have a dear friend who always says, "So, I was thinking in my head ..."

Well that's where thinking occurs, right? At least for most of us ...

And I often catch myself or my mom saying, "Well, I was talking out loud ..."

Isn't that how all talking occurs? Out loud?

Just some thoughts I had in my head that I wanted to share.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I borrowed a suitcase from my dad. Every time I open it, I smell the distinct scent of Polo and coffee grounds. The aromas of my daddy. 


I love my brother. He called me tonight and peppered me with questions about something in my life that he felt out of the loop on. That's so sweet--he wants to be in my loop of life. Love. 

I love how people across the country are always shocked when I explain that, no, Denver is not always covered in drifts of snow. No wonder people are confused ... when it does snow in Denver, it makes national news. What a crazy state...

I am a little unnerved about the fact that I'm doing the Myers Briggs certification course in March. Why? I haven't been in class in a very. very. long time. Not sure if I can sit and be attentive from 8-5, four days in a row. 

I made a good choice yesterday ... and a bad choice today. See images.

My son is adorable. Just sayin'...

I still feel like Denver is home. I wonder when--or if--that feeling will ever fade? I kinda hope not ... 

I've read two novels (in the middle of the second) in the past 48 hours. Completely unrelated by authorship, publisher etc, yet both books have had strong themes of generational sin and free will. What should I be thinking in my head about this?

I'm so blessed ... the one time I had to leave a day early for a work trip to beat a snowstorm and that work trip just happened to be to a beautiful resort hotel in a warm climate. I could have just as easily been spending an extra 30 hours in Cincinnati or somewhere else just as dreary.

These were just some of the thoughts I was thinking in my head. And I didn't have anyone to talk out loud to, so I thought I'd blog. Thanks for listening ... er, reading.

this is my life

I was thinking about my life today, and I've decided it's decidedly unique. 

I get to spend a whole lot of time with my child, and a whole lot of time with my husband. 

Other than some work hours (that I stick to pretty well), I'm free as a bird for much of my week. 

One day I can be meal planning and grocery shopping with Joshua, and the next day I'm "jet setting" across the country, landing in a hotel in downtown Des Moines.

I can be sick on the couch on Monday, and running a high energy training session for rural hospital employees on Friday. 

I can be master primer/painter/furniture rearranger one moment, and pastor's wife, ministering via text the next moment. 

I spend 20% of my time in casual jeans and a comfortable top, 75% of my time in workout clothes and/or pajamas, and 5% of my time in one of two Limited suits. 

I can be marketing guru one minute, sales person extraordinaire the next minute, corporate trainer the next, toddler educator the next, and laundry specialist amidst it all. 

I'm always a wife, always a mommy, always a Christian, always a daughter, and every once in a while, a professional speaker. 

I spend random amounts of time with strangers--in cabs, on airplanes, at hotel restaurants waiting for my food, in shuttles, trains, trams, vans and buses. 

I drop my son off at daycare, and 4 hours later, I'm in another state, on my own for 48 hours while the hubby, who is amazing by the way, holds down the fort at home. 

I have seasons of crazy busy-ness, and seasons where it appears I don't work much at all. 

The balancing act of a working mom is a strange one--especially a working mom with such disparity in her schedule. 

From PJs to Limited suits, from emailing from my kitchen to working from the Hyatt. From multi-tasking mommy to corporate trainer lady, from choo choo train conductor to curriculum designer ... 

this is my life. 

Love it.

Lessons Learned Today

1. Never ever. ever. ever ever ever ever trust an airline when they tell you your checked bag will arrive with you at your new destination after they've cancelled your flight and rebooked you on a different airline. NEVER.

2. Stop sharing so many kisses, apples, spoonfuls, and straws with your son. He is ALWAYS carrying germs. Always.

3. Sickness will hit you when you travel. Period.

4. Don't travel for business to Dallas during the state fair. So. Many. People. .......

5. No matter how much extra space they take, how much extra effort it is, always ALWAYS keep your laptop charging cord, your iPhone charging cord, and your training materials with you when traveling. Refer to lesson #1 for reference.

6. Learn to be more assertive and less push-overy with airline representatives.

7. Always carry a snack. I thought I'd learned this when pregnant, but apparently I forgot it.

8. Laptop bags without straps are sinful.

9. Somehow I will always choose to recommit to lunges and squats the day before traveling. Making the traveling day a very very sore one for me.

10. My Dad always comes through. Always.

11. Downtown hotels may be cooler, but they are further away from amenities. Like, department stores and Apple stores and copier stores .... see lesson 1 and 5 for reference.

12. Travel in business clothes. Not jeans, sneakers, an old shirt and light weight sweater. Now I understand why business people travel in their clothes--so when the airlines lose their bag, they can still go to work in the morning.

Real business people don't check their bags. Oh--right. I forgot.

Real business people also don't travel with their 18 month old.

Real business people don't have the pleasure of routing themselves through Denver to hug their parents and drop off the 18 month old on their way to work in Dallas.

Real business people don't have the heartwarming experience of watching their son jump and run/waddle toward his Grandpa and Grandma with a huge grin on his face while routing themselves through Denver on their way to work in Dallas.

So .... I guess the problem started today when I took off my business person hat and put on my mommy hat and packed according to being a mommy not a business person .... and then United cancelled my flight to Dallas Love Field, and rebooked me on American to Dallas/Fort Worth and didn't send my one lonely checked bag ....

All because I didn't want to carry an extra bag along with the 18 month old, the diaper bag, the stroller and the Elmo backpack full of books and snacks.

Am I worried about my 9am training session tomorrow, for which I need handouts, business attire, make up, hair products, and heels? Nah--there's a Target 1.7 miles away. I'll manage.

So, biggest lesson of all? Hmm .... sometimes, you just have a perfect storm of poor decisions, cancelled flights, and snotty noses.Oh--and never ever ever ever EVER trust an airline with the materials and clothing that you need at 9am the next day. EVER.

You went where?

"Where are you headed?"

"Bonners Ferry, Idaho."

"Where?"

"A little town in northern Idaho."

"Never heard of it. Where exactly?"

*Sigh* "Canada." :)

Joshua and I just returned from a 5 day trip to Far North Idaho--Bonners Ferry. Almost 10 years ago, I got a slip of paper in the mail that informed me my college roommates would be Joelle Knappen from Alexandria, MN and Corella Butters from Bonners Ferry, ID.

For whatever reason, I saw the "ID" and took it to mean "Indiana". It only took me a phone call or two with my soon-to-be roommate to realize I needed to work on my state abbreviation recognition. "ID" is Idaho, not Indiana. Oh, what a easier but much more boring trip Indiana would have been for Joshua and me.

I learned some things about myself--and my son--over the past week. I'd love to share so here goes: (Warning, I'm still processing these things, and at this exact moment only know of two that I'm going to list here. Let's see what comes out of me as I type ...)

1. I can live without my Blackberry. And not just survive--but enjoy it! There's no cell service where Cora and Troy live, and while I thoroughly missed being able to talk to my husband, wow was it good to glance at my BB and see no flashing red light, no tiny numbers with a red asterisk indication unread emails ... nothing. It was good for nothing but telling time and a good game of Bejeweled before bed. Beautiful.

2. Joshua can live without T.V. Because Erik and I both work from home, there are often times during a week where we need to answer an email or make a phone call, and these times seem to almost always coincide with Josh's most needy moment. Hence, baby DVDs. This week, he survived without DVDs. Yay!

3. I tend to underestimate my son. He really is a great kid, and I, as a mommy, visualize the worst possible scenarios when we are trying new things instead of giving him the benefit of the doubt. He did so great at the airports, on the planes, in the car, at a Seussical Musical, in a new environment, on a hike .... what an adaptive little guy!

4. I tend to underestimate myself. Erik and I are very much partners in the parenting endeavor. We agree that we are usually a 60/40 split. This week I was definitely 100% parent--and I was terrified that I wouldn't be able to handle it. But guess what? I'm a great Mom. I'm the perfect Mom for Joshua, and I did just fine.

5. There are a lot of minutes in the day. Eliminate TV, internet, and cell phone, and suddenly, there's a TON of time in the day! Incredible!

6. God blessed me with an incredible roommate so many years ago. Cora Butters now Roberts, where would I be without you? Who would I be? We've had so many awesome chats, lived in a couple of different rooms together, seen God do amazing things in both of our lives ... I am so honored to still be a part of your life. Thanks for welcoming me into your home and for loving my son. (And I realize you won't read this until you're back in Alaska with internet, perhaps, and even then, you'll be a brand new mom so heck--maybe you'll NEVER read this! :) )

Joshua and I traveled to Far North Idaho. It was a big trip, I was anxious about it, but we did it. And it was good.

Vegas Baby! (or ... Daddy ... ?)

Today I flew into Vegas. First time ever--Vegas Baby!

Except, I spent the evening with my Dad. :)

I am speaking for Verizon Wireless tomorrow morning, and my Dad happened to be here speaking at a restaurant franchisee conference this evening. So, we had a daddy-daughter date. On the strip.

Definitely not how one pictures seeing Vegas!

I grabbed a taxi and caught the last half of my Dad's session in a ballroom at the Monte Carlo Hotel. This was my first time entering a Vegas "hotel"--more like, mall with lots and lots of gambling. This is so NOT your mother's Holiday Inn Express.

I was on the elevator alone. For whatever reason, I forgot to push the button for level 2. So, I zoomed from level 1 to level 10. Silly me.

Stopped at level 10--enter dude with sunglasses and flip flops.
Stopped at level 8--enter business guy with outdated tie.
Stopped at level 7--enter Texas cowboys, complete with large belt buckles and boots.
Stopped at level 6--enter family of three from Scotland, no Ireland, no Vancouver. That's exactly how the nine year old girl explained it to me. In the most ador-ab-le accent ever.
Stopped at level 4--enter white haired man with full suit, tie and boutonniere.
Stopped at level 3--doors open to reveal 4 Spanish children, ages 2-4, crawling on their bellies yelling "Save me! Shark! Ah! Save me!" Thankfully, the parents waved us on and the doors closed. 
Stopped at level 2--little tiny business woman (AKA ME) steps out, wondering where in the world she is that she can encounter such a mixture of people .... ah yes--Vegas Baby.

So, I caught the last half of my Dad's session, smiled at some clients, was treated to dinner at Outback by my Dad, listened to his stories, grabbed another cab to my hotel (The Signature Towers at the MGM Grand) and am now staring out over the pool at the glittery lights of Vegas. Baby. Or Daddy ....

Dinner with my Dad

View during dinner

My first experience in Vegas, was with my Dad. Pretty fun, pretty grateful I have him.

And pretty grateful Erik is coming tomorrow. :) Vegas Baby!

Today, I pumped in a storage room.

Warning: To any male who reads this, this blog is about the escapades of a nursing mom. Be forewarned.

You know you’re a nursing mom who travels for a living when: 

Tears of relief spring to your eyes when you discover a “special needs” private bathroom at a quiet, unpopulated end of the airport terminal. Pumping is special needs … right? 

Instead of canvassing airport waiting areas for the best outlet to plug in your laptop, you find yourself mentally mapping every family/handicapped restroom you pass, calculating the number of steps from there to your departure gate. 

You curse the airline for having an on time departure, because it cuts into your pumping time.

Whereas you used to love tight connections, you now dread them because a short connection means choosing between pumping and dinner. Pumping always always wins. Perhaps this is the post-pregnancy diet I’ve been waiting for. 

You’ve lost all sense of decorum, and in the security line, happily and in a normal speaking voice inform the TSA agent and the world that your fresh breast milk is in the cooler, the pump is in the suitcase, and why yes, of course you may test the liquid for explosive traces! 

You constantly mutter to yourself, “He’s worth it, he’s worth it, he’s worth it….”

Emails to the client pre-trip now include not only questions about driving directions, schedule and culture of the organization, but also about accessibility of a refrigerator and a private place to do “mommy business”.

You panic when a mother and her small child enter the stall next to you in the airport restroom. You visualize the young child squatting down and peering underneath the stall, knowing he or she would find you squatting on your roller-bag, attempting to pump efficiently while balancing all the necessary tools, and trying to stay away from the toilet. 

Upon noticing your ice packs are losing their icy-ness, you approach the back of the airplane and ask the flight attendants for some ice. The woman, seeing your cooler and slightly blushed cheeks, knows exactly what’s going on. She comments, “Ah yes—liquid gold. I’d do the same,” and sets about getting ice. The man, however, doesn’t understand, and asks, “What’s in the cooler?” You answer, but he can’t hear you over the roar of the engines. “What?” he says. And you again, answer. “What? What kind of milk?” “Breast milk!” you shout. Cue awkward silence. 

You wake with a start in the middle of the night; your body just can’t adjust to this much opportunity for sleep!

In moments of desperation, you’ve actually considered putting a hoodie on backwards and pumping in a corner of the waiting area, because the handicapped/private restroom is occupied or nonexistent, there are no outlets in the bathroom, and your battery pack is dead. 

You find yourself pumping in a storage room, with the pump balanced on a table carrying cart, your butt sitting precariously on a chair cart’s rail, and a picture of your son smiling up at you from your cell phone. Why a storage room you ask? Because that’s the only place with an outlet and some privacy. 

You can’t lift your carry on into the overhead anymore because the stinkin’ pump is 3500 pounds. The nice businessman who offers to help looks surprised at the weight of the bag. For some reason, this is embarrassing.

You hope and pray for a seat near the front of the plane on your flight home, an aisle seat, and people who move quickly upon exiting the plane. Time is of the essence in getting home to the baby after being away for so many long hours. 

All the inconveniences and frustrations, pain and discomfort fade from your mind the second you lift that sleeping little buddy from his bed, hold him close and breathe in his scent. He is worth it. He is.

Vacation with a Four Month Old

If you know us, you know we can be a little crazy. 

So you won't be surprised when I tell you that we just took a vacation with Joshua to Breckenridge, CO. 

Yes, yes--we are crazy. 

But to be completely honest, when I stop being overly dramatic and negative and look intstead at the positive, we had a wonderful time. 

Did I get a break from nursing? No. 

Did I vacation from nap schedules? No. 

Did I receive rest instead of sleepless nights? No. Not even close. 

But did I lounge in my pajamas? Yes. 

Did I giggle in bed with Josh instead of getting up to work? Yes. 

Did I take lots of walks in near perfect weather? Yes. 

Did I soak up sunshine with my smiley baby boy? Yes. 

Did I indulge in good food and lots of popcorn? Yes. 

Did Erik and I watch an entire season of Everwood? Yes. 

Did I start and finish two novels? Yes. 

Did I kick back with good friends and a glass of wine? Yes. 

Did I sing Patti Cake and Head & Shoulders multiple times just to make Josh smile? Yes. 

Did I stay off Facebook and the Internet for the whole week? Yes. 

Did I converse with my husband over coffee and Bibles? Yes. 

Did I vacation? 

YES!

I may be just as exhausted as when I left, but boy am I glad we went. Motherhood changes everything ... for the better.

Driving through the hills

Today I drove from Dulles International Airport to Moorefield, WV. Preparing for this trip, it never occurred to me that I would be making a very pretty drive. The green rolling hills of western Virginia were gorgeous as I wound my way over rivers and around rocky bends into West Virginia. 

Colorado is beautiful-strikingly so. But I sure do love these moments in the Eastern states, where roads like "Trout Run", "Turkey Run", and "Squirrel Gap Run Road" criss cross with the "Lost River" and "Crooked Creek" through valleys and canyons named after battles that I remember from my history books.  A hotel founded in 1933 boasts "T.V. and A/C" and across the road is a restaurant called "Freeze King".  Different shades of green layer softly in the distance, each level of hills and trees adding to the beauty. Dilapidated trailers with classic red convertibles parked out front sit opposite traditional, turn-of-the-century farm houses with American flags draped on the porch rails. Quaint hillside churches proclaimed to me that "Jesus cares" and "prayer has no roaming charges". The town I was in was founded 1777. That's old.

It's just a different kind of beautiful out here--and I'm glad I get to see it.

Move Down, Step In and Shut Up!

So here I sit at DIA for the fourth time in four days.

While the rest of Colorado is celebrating an official "Snow Day", I made it quite quickly to the airport, flew through security, grabbed a bagel and orange juice and am now somewhat patiently awaiting my flight to Erie, PA through Detroit, so I can rent a car and drive to Jamestown, NY.

Part of me really covets that "Snow Day".

But, I do love what I do, in spite of the long days of travel. I wonder if my thoughts on my job will change once there's a baby at home. When I left this morning at 5:45am, I tried to imagine preparing and saying goodbye to a little one, as well as trying to get myself out the door at that ungodly hour. Hmm ... we shall see. The up side is the many days I'm not traveling and get to just be at home. It's an interesting trade. 24 hours after 24 hours of being home, broken up by maybe 2-3, 1-2 day trips a month. Very very interesting ... only time will tell!

Well, I wanted to share some random musings about airport life:

Why did DIA put red carpet on Concourse C, the color of what can only be described as stale tomato juice? It's fairly revolting.

I love it when little kids have their own miniature rolly-bags. It cracks me up. A little 3 year old boy just strutted by with his very own Spiderman bag on wheels. He was very proud. I'm sure all the 2 year old girls are checking him out.


Oh my gosh, I HATE IT when people don't scoot down after their bins/bags come through security. They stand there, putting on their belt, adjusting their collars, putting away their laptop, tying their shoes....all while my stuff if just out of reach inside the metal tunnel. MOVE DOWN!!!

Why when people get on the train do they stand right next to the first pole by the door jam? Don't they see the 50 other people waiting to get on the train? And then they glare if one of the 50 gets stuck in the door and the Man on the Speaker who plays the really odd music says, "YOU are delaying the departure of this train. Please stand clear of the doors." Again I teach--STEP IN PEOPLE!

It was a heart stopping moment when I crested the escaltor on Concourse C (I'm rarely on Concourse C because my primary airline, United, is on B), expecting to see Einstein Bagels, but only saw, gag me, McDonalds. Then I realized I came up on the opposite escalator than normal. I walked to my left and straight ahead, my bagels. The world was set right again.

Seriously, the things people sneak on these days as carry ons is a crime. There should be police for this.

Why is there only a Caribou on Concourse A? Now that's just unfair.

It's really quite irritiating that every time I settle somewhere, I have to completely unsettle to go to the restroom. This is far worse now that I'm pregnant.

I've mastered the art of touching the bathroom stalls as little as possible. I use my shoulder to push open the door, step in, twirl my bag in and around and use it to shove the door shut. I don't even lock it--just lean the suitcase. It's a wonderful little routine. Until the latch is missing or broken, which is often the case, and the door proceeds to swing outward, due to the pressure from the suitcase, just as I'm sitting down. How irritating.

Do you know how annoying it is when, on a plane of 150 people, I happen to sit right near the two guys or two gals who decide to be chummy and talk the ENTIRE TIME? Again, we need police.

I wish I lived in Kansas City. No, strike that, I wish that airport would swap with DIA, so I could still live here, but use the Kansas City Airport. Which I guess, in this scenario, would be DIA. Point is, DIA was laid out by crazy people who don't travel multiple times in a week, and Kansas City was laid out by angels.

Deciding what to wear to travel is one of the most stressful events of any given travel week. Jeans or business pants? Sneakers or painful "appropriate" black shoes? Tshirt or sweater? Layers or not? Jacket? Gloves? Socks? Today I opted for socks instead of nylons with my slip on black shoes, (cold feet on a plane=crabby me), jeans, a Tshirt with a sweater, a scarf, mittens and a light nylon-rain jacket. I think this was a pretty good decision. Professional enough, but still comfortable. The worst is when opt for a hoodie, jeans and comfy shoes, and I meet with a prospect. Like a VP of Sales from Qwest. I don't think I'm very convincing when I say I'm a professional speaker/training when I'm wearing my college clothes.

I could go on forever about travel ... but alas, the bathroom calls. So I'll have to pack up and relocate. Maybe after that I'll take a nap, somehow, while leaning over the armrest, attempting to cushion the discomfort with my sweater and light nylon-rain coat. Or I'll just go get coffee.

San Fran: Loved it.

We just spent a weekend in San Francisco. Neither of us had been there before, but we both definitely had ideas and expectations for what the experience would be like. Honestly? We were pretty much wrong. I can't exactly articulate what we expected, we just know it turned out to be what we didn't expect. Doesn't make much sense I know, but here are some basic observations, thoughts, ponderings, senses about our 60 hours in San Fran.

it's people are quirky. as a whole--not trendy, not sophisticated--just quirky. Eclectic.

the city is not as flamboyant as one might expect. admittedly, we're fairly conservative and didn't seek out the, I'm sure, readily available gay activities. but it just wasn't as "out there" as we'd thought.

the "Full House" theme song was in our head all weekend. I wonder if that happens to everyone?

climbing those famous hills can be likened to climbing a 14,000 foot mountain. except with oxygen-rich air, which was nice. loved it.

it's really cool to watch the gripmen manually turn the cable cars around at the end of the line.

i've now been in the Chicago Chinatown, the NYC one, the Seattle one, the Vancouver one, and now the "real" one--the San Francisco Chinatown. Loved it.

i love Irish pudding. and our waitress, who has lived in San Fran for two years, couldn't suggest anything cool for us to do. Seriously--does she get out??

i set foot in a Barneys. Actually, two feet, walked around a table, stood for a moment, and left. didn't love it.

Apparently we saw the Golden Gate Bridge. Supposedly we walked on it. Never really saw it, so I'll have to trust what I think I know. sounds a lot like life in general.

Fog is THICK in San Francisco. Crazy thick.

it's dirty. seriously--couldn't begin to count the amount of grayed, hardened gum pressed into the sidewalks.

Coit Tower is not worth the climb. and the bushes need trimming.

Lombard Street--the "Crookedest Street"--is awesome. i wish we'd driven it, but walking down it was cool. who comes up with this stuff? loved it.

I love being in major metropolitan areas. Denver really isn't one. This was close to like being in New York, with all nationalities around at all times. LOVED IT.

Side Note: Seriously, is Denver a city? I'm thinking not...it tries to be, but then it gets outdone by the neighboring Rocky Mountains.

it's cab drivers speak wonderful English. I know i risk sounding "haughty", but i travel a good deal, and it's rare to be able to communicate with ease to a cab driver.

i always thought it'd be fun to live in the city, frequent a diner, walk everywhere, take public transportation...oh wait! that's what we do when we travel! it's enlightening to "try out" the city lifestyle. we ate breakfast at a corner diner both mornings. small, crowded, busy--but great food! and loved it.

staring at our map and trying to find a cross street, suddenly i hear an Asian voice, "Can I help you with a location?" i looked DOWN (love it) to see a tiny little Asian woman, very eagerly staring up at me. "Can I help you find location?" she asked again. So, I let her help me find my location, even though I knew where to go. ah, the little things. loved it.

Warning: Self Critique Time. (or maybe you love it when I admit my faults....publicly...on the World Wide Web....) I loathe the fear that threatens to overcome me when i'm in a new situation with unknown surroundings. why do i fear the man walking toward me, just because he is wearing raggy clothes and has headphones on? just because he looks different than i do? he would probably feel just as uncomfortable if i picked him up and stuck him in the suburbs. why am i so fearful of people?? i hate this part of myself. i want to get past this, and see people as Jesus sees them.

in China town, we stumbled upon a large group of Chinese men in the park--gambling. it was awesome. loved it.

city buses--for some reason, they freaked us out. not the people or anything, but figuring out the schedule. once we did, it was great! you learn so much about a city by taking the bus. loved it.

we did experience one crazily flamboyant guy. he wore a huge pink feather through his ear, like an earring. cept it was a feather. the tip of it was stuck through his earring hole, but from the back, so the feathery part shot backwards from his earlobe. pink nail polish, ruffles on his shirt, pointy-toed shoes, loud cell phone call where he said, and i quote, "i'm so over throwing parties for heterosexuals. they just don't appreciate it. my life is so homo right now--those people know how to party!" i think the whole bus breathed a sigh of relief when he hung up the phone. the whole bus except for the woman he then sat by. she seemed a little tense. maybe it was the feather protruding from his ear that the woman's baby kept grabbing at. loved it? not sure.

it took me all weekend, but I finally admitted something to myself, and now to you ... I don't really like sourdough bread. *Gasp!*

you know how some people just can't not talk non-stop to babies? strangers' babies? one of those people got on the bus. she was a large woman, with loose facial skin and bright white hair. she literally wedged herself between an armrest and a small African American woman who's feet dangled off the bus seat above the floor. like mine. she shared the armrest with a grandpa who held his grandson. the large woman with loose skin revealed a beautiful beaming smile, and proceeded to make funny faces at the kid for the next 15 minutes. at first, i was like, "seriously? are you done yet? say hello, call him cute, and be done with it." but after a while, i realized that this lady just likes to bring joy wherever she goes. Sadly, I am not one of those people, but i am learning to appreciate those people. 15 minutes later, as she waddled off the bus, she spoke joyful words to each person she passed ... and left us all with a smile lingering on our faces. Except for the baby boy. he, by then, was crying. go figure.

smokers--everywhere. i forget how generally healthy denver is. seriously. smokers--everywhere.

I'll close with this ... I found HOPE in China town. If you know me (or even if you don't but you've read my blogs) you know that I'm always looking for things that say HOPE. I've looked for Chinese script before, but only found characters that said, "Success" or "Wealth". Well, off the main tourist drag, near the gambling men, I found a store that sold HOPE.

Loved it.

This is a Magical Place!!

We went to Disney World on our honeymoon--and had a blast! But can I just please say that going to Disney with children is so much better?!Erik and I just returned from Orlando after spending a week with his parents, sister, brother-in-law, nephew and niece. Not only was this a perfect vacation, with the crucial mix of exploration, relaxation, and good food, but we got to take Samuel (4) and Serenity (2) to the place where dreams come true!

Each clutching their respective Disney characters (Pluto and Minnie Mouse), Sam and Renny were literally bursting with excitement as we approached the castle ever so slowly on the ferry.

Favorite Memories from our time @ Disney World:


1. Hearing Samuel say over and over, "This IS a magical place! This is such a magical place!" as we entered Magic Kingdom.

2. Watching Serenity squeeze Minnie Mouse tightly and say, "Mouse. My Mouse."

3. Desperately distracting Samuel as we attempted to block Goofy from his vision, and run in the opposite direction. (He is terrified of Goofy. Says he's "too big". ???)

4. Taking Samuel on the Carousel in Fantasyland. As he rode the horse, he said, "Man, I should have brought my cowboy hat!"

5. Holding a very sleepy Serenity against my chest as we rode the Buzz Light Year ride one last time.

6. Playing 'Duck Duck Goose' in Norway @ Epcot with Samuel and Erik.

7. When Serenity was having a small meltdown in Germany, and a stranger gave her a flower, and she immediately quick crying, and smiled so big.

8. Skipping to the bathroom with Samuel, singing "Skip to my Loo" and hearing Samuel say, "...loo loo skip to my loo......Skip to my loo my....(long pause).....Auntie Kri-stin!"

9. Introducing a very sleepy Samuel to Pooh, Tigger and Eeyore after discovering them last minute in a toy store in London.

10. Helping Serenity and Samuel find "Nemo" in a fish tank, and having Sam say, "There's Nemo--and there's his Dad!!!!"

There are, of course, so many other memories, including ones we made just laying by the pool, or ones with adults in them. :) But these are definitely some of the highlights of taking kids to the Magic World of Disney. I highly recommend it!!

Why am I tested?

God has this wonderful habit of testing whatever it is I just committed to doing. Isn't that just lovely? I talk to myself outloud and convince myself to yet again remember to trust in Him. I verbally remind myself to stop whining about the 'unfairness' of life and choose hope. I conjure up as many Bible verses as possible while I drive and speak them outloud, letting them soothe my soul.

And what happens the minute I walk through the door? I'm told a family friend is pregnant...again, I get an email update from another preggers friend, and I receive a baby shower invitation in the mail.

Now, I try not to be too dramatic about things (this statement is tongue in cheek for those of you who really know me), but seriously--how much more could I be hit with? I can only stand up under so much before I just collapse! I can only go so long before I'm ready to shout--"That's IT! I'm DONE! Forget it!" And yet, what am I quitting on? What am I forgetting? God? God Himself? I think I can just tell Him I'm fed up and walk away forever? Like that's going to help. I'm so incredibly tired of waiting, wanting, hoping, stuffing, sobbing, wishing, trusting, hiding, smiling, continuing on in the face of complete and utter disappointment. I don't even talk about it anymore; what's the point? No one understands, and to be honest, I'm kind of tired of the sympathetic half smiles. Not that I don't appreciate it, but I'm just tired of being that girl.

I know I need the Lord, but I sure am tired of being tested. But, I can't do this on my own. If I had to ... well, that would just suck.