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New Blog!

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{My Last Day}

It's my last day of being a twentysomething.

Wow--what a decade.

I started this 10 year span in my life a single-college-sophomore with a perm. I end it a wife-and-mom-of-two with two tattoos. 

Time flies when you're having fun!

On that note, boy, did I have fun today. Joshua came home from his "First Friends" class at the YMCA in a fairly good mood. (That is, after he got done crying from hitting his head on the car door. He quite often walks right into that thing...)

I had water boiling for Mac 'n' Cheese--our Friday favorite--and "Word World" was on PBS. (LOVE that cartoon.)

He ate "gock kees" and peas {toddler food}, while I ate various veggies with rice and chicken {mommy food}.

Feel good moment of the day: My son asked for seconds on peas. And ate them. Whoot Whoot! 

I threw together some cornbread muffins for dinner tonight, and Joshua helped. Then he fell off the kitchen table bench (seriously kid--for real??) so we cuddled.

I thought more muffins seemed like fun, so I thought I'd try my hand at making some from scratch. I didn't have the right ingredients though, so we made M&M cookies instead. And by "we" I mean Becca and me. Joshua didn't want to--he played downstairs with his toys. Quite nicely I might add!

He'd check in every once in  while, and we had a couple nice conversations. I chased him with the camera, got some cute shots of Becca, and thoroughly enjoyed hanging with my children.

My children. They teach me so many lessons. Here are just a couple:

Stop and smell the roses. Even the dried ones hanging in the kitchen.

Pants are unnecessary. Joshua is often without them when we are home alone. Much to his father's chagrin.

 Zoos are the best. BIG zoos are even better.


Pictures don't have to be perfect. This one captures my Joshua perfectly--independent and energetic. Won't always take a picture just because I ask--but loves me all the same.

{Shots are icky. But Becca is still my happy happy girl. She teaches me daily the importance of faith--and reminds me of the miracles that God has done in my life.}

A tickle fest is ALWAYS the right thing to do.


Yellow is the best--and only--color. According to Joshua.

 

 


{Giggling is the most fun thing. Giggling while chewing on plastic rings and sitting in a Bumbo. It's important to giggle.}

They will copy you. Every little thing, they do. So make sure to play. And be silly. And be imperfect--and be okay with it.



 


"Cheeeeeese Mama!" 
Then he turns the fake camera around and says, "Wook Mama! Cuuuute!"

Cookies should be savored. Slowly. With lots of little bites.

{Bottles are yucky. ~Becca}

  

Milk is yummy.
{Becca agrees with this.}


Mornings are awesome, rhinos are the best, Spiderman bubble bath in the cool Spidy bottle is meant to be carried around and slept with, but not actually used in the tub, airplanes are wonderful playgrounds ... and most of all: 

Motherhood is amazing. That is what my children teach me, day in and day out. Through the giggles and the tears, the tantrums and the discoveries. The doctor's appointments and diaper changes; the sleepless nights and power struggles. Through it all, motherhood is amazing. I wouldn't trade it for the world. 

Single-sophomore-with-a-perm ME didn't know how good life could get. 

Here's to turning 30!

Two, Three, One

Months ago, I started counting. I'd count raisins. I'd count socks. I'd count cars on the road and ducks in the sky. I'd count. And count. And count.

It just seemed like the right thing to do. And guess what? Joshua has started counting.

He doesn't quite have the words down yet, or really the sequencing. But he's counting! This morning, in his adorable little voice, he'd ask, "Mama? Ta-tas? [aunties] Thfree?" (He does have three aunties here in Colorado.) Then he'd hold up his little fingers, tilt his head to the side, squinch up his face and ask, "Twoo? Thfree? Won? Ta-tas?" (Only two aunties were here--one was at school.)

That's, like, kinda some addition! And subtraction! Heck, the kid will be multiplying fractions in no time!!

Then later today, he counted fish in the tub. And blueberries in his bowl. And rocks in the Mancala game.

He's counting! 

It's worth it! Since Joshua is my first child, I just didn't know. I didn't know that it was worth it to start counting when he was so young, even though I felt crazy. I didn't know that it was actually working--I just assumed it was what a mommy is supposed to do.

So what did I learn from this little lesson? Couple of things:

1. My gut instincts are good. And often right. {What?! Who woulda thought.}

2. My son is smart. And adorable. {Pretty sure I already knew that, but the reminder is always refreshing.}

3. I'm created to be a mommy. This is what I'm designed to do. It's exhausting and exhilarating. It's rewarding and sometimes revolting. It's humbling and honoring.

My son is learning. He is listening and he is learning. Everything I do he sees, hears, mimics ... what an honor and a responsibility. Good to know, good to remember: I am so blessed by my son.

I am MOM {don't breathe on me!}

the diet for everyone right now

I can hardly type--the chaffing red skin on my fingers is quite painful. Hand sanitizer and disinfecting wipes the culprits. 

Now I know! Now I know what it's like to be a mom and have a stomach bug enter my home. I've been a mom for over 2 1/2 years, and this was my first (and still is I guess...) experience with a nasty virus like this. Luckily for me, not so luckily for them, Joshua's bug hit hard on Grammie and Grandad's watch. But what I thought I missed out on followed us from Minnesota home to Wisconsin. 

acting sick with mommy

 In the past 48 hours I've cleaned up puke, wiped up splatter, washed down cupboard doors, rinsed off Legos, sanitized light switches, mixed up Pedialyte (kid still won't drink it...), said many prayers, changed messy messy MESSY diapers in the tub to contain the mess, done lots of laundry, avoided my husband like the plague because, well, he sure sounded like maybe he had it while he was puking in the bathroom at 1am. 

trying to touch our tongues to our noses

And I've found myself avoiding my son. It's so sad! I see him huddled on the couch with his tigers and blankets, or half heartedly doing a puzzle downstairs and I smile at him and keep my distance. 

I do it for myself, and for my 3 month old. But let's be honest--I really do it for myself. :) 

smiling big to make the germs go away

And yet, when that little boy shuffled over to the chair I was sitting in and wiggled his way onto my lap, I let my defenses down. At first I stiffened, and tried to turn my face and body away from him so as to not catch his germs. But as he muttered softly under his breath something about Mama and tummy, my heart melted. I reached for the sanitizing wipes, held my breath, gave him a kiss on the head and cuddled in close. I am a MOM ... now let's hope I don't get sick.

Imperfect Photos

I'm so annoyed with myself.

My kids look adorable and I wanted to capture the matching outfits. I adjusted blankets, ornaments, presents and seats to prepare for what I knew would be a crazy photo shoot.

During a break from the football game, Erik helped me gather the children and prop them up. Well, Becca we propped up. Joshua we bribed, cajoled, coaxed and entertained in an attempt to get some precious photos.

So why am I annoyed with myself? Because I got frustrated. I got frustrated with my two year old because he wouldn't sit still and smile normally. Because he wouldn't stop saying "cheese" with a squinchy face. Because he wouldn't look at the camera. Because he kept rocking and moving, and laying, and rolling. I got frustrated because my two year old was, well, being two.

My goodness, what else did I expect from him??

He wouldn't be Joshua Nelson Lindeen if he didn't make goofy faces, roll on the floor, pucker up and make oogly noises at his sister. He wouldn't be Joshua and he wouldn't be mine if he wasn't the silly little boy that he is. 

And I must say, the imperfect pictures that we did capture are the most precious, true-to-life pictures I've ever seen. My impish little boy and my smiley miracle baby girl.

We are so blessed. Merry Christmas from the Lindeens!!

Feeling Overwhelmed?

Feeling overwhelmed? I am. I really feel like I shouldn't feel overwhelmed. I mean, Joshua was in daycare for 6 hours today. I was able to squeeze a workout in while Becca napped. Erik did a fair chunk of my normal house hold cleaning yesterday. I was able to get a haircut yesterday. I didn't have a lot of work on my plate today.

And yet, I feel overwhelmed. Sometimes, I just think being an adult is overwhelming.

Keep a clean house.
Understand health insurance.
Swap the laundry.
Feed your kids
Clothe your kids. In moderately clean clothes.
Spend quality time with your spouse.
File your own taxes.
Wash all fruits and veggies. Well.
Play with your kids.
Put gas in the car.
Remember to change the oil.
Balance your checkbook. (What's that?)
Give back to your community.
Establish a circle of friends.
Clean out the fridge.
Unscrew the outdoor hoses. BEFORE it snows.
Change the furnace filter.
Pick up some DrainO.
Take a break.
Hold down a job.
Pursue a career.
Chase your dreams.
Soothe the crying 10 week old who has a tummy ache and just can't be calmed down.

Adulthood is overwhelming. Motherhood is overwhelming. I'm not complaining; I'm just stating a fact.

Good thing tonight Joshua went to bed easily and I really can put my feet up and at least attempt to soothe the bundle of Boo who seems to have a sore tummy. I guess, for this moment in time, I'm not too overwhelmed.

We have a KID!

Today has been a funny day. Why? Because Joshua Nelson Lindeen is funny. Quite, in fact. 

I love that kid.

This evening after dinner we played hide n seek. Joshua learned this awesome game while staying with his older cousins this week. So tonight, we played a family game. First time ever that we really felt like we had a kid! I turned to Erik at one point and said, "Wait a minute--we have a KID!" Joshua would even take a turn counting "Di Doos Di Di .... ready here come!" and he turned out to be a great hider. I reveled in the joy on his face every time we found him or him us or he just jumped out of his spot, so enthusiastically engaged in the fun. We have a kid!

This morning, he drank his milk, pointed to his tummy and said, "Tummy! Milk! Gone!" and laughed. Then he pointed to the front of his diaper and said, "Milk! Gone! Haha!" and promptly went to the bathroom.

At dinner, I gave Joshua some watered down Crystal Lite as a treat. He immediately started guzzling it. We said, "Time to pray!" and he pointed his index finger at me in this new way that he does and said, "No! Wait! No Waaaaaait!" "Wait for what Joshua? It's time to pray--we always pray before a meal." "No, wait! Juice." he stated matter of factly and kept right on guzzling. We tried not to laugh and prayed to thank Jesus for the juice.

Apparently I take too many pictures, because now Joshua starts to say, "No, mama. [index finger pointing included.] No mama--no picture."

We made a gingerbread house today--or more like we decorated a pre-assembled foam house that I got at Target for $5. THANK YOU TARGET. Joshua has been carrying that thing around all day. In fact, the house had to play hide n seek with us.

Joshua loves to have me (or anyone available) draw animals based on his whims. Today it was hippos. Other days it has been giraffes, alligators, lions, bears and tigers. [{The only one I just canNOT figure out is rhinos. If someone can teach me how to draw a rhino, I'd greatly appreciate it. So would Joshua. My rhino is creepy...}] Erik was putting Joshua down for a nap this afternoon, and for whatever reason it was a struggle. He almost had him content and drifting off when Joshua sat upright in bed, eyes wide and yelled tearfully, "Hippo cubor! Hippo cubors! Daddy, Mama, hippo cubor!!!" Erik came to me, bewildered. I knew immediately--he wanted the two scrap pieces of paper that I'd drawn hippos on earlier that day. Erik got them, gave them, and Joshua went to sleep, "hippo cubors" (hippo colors) in hand.

We have a kid. He talks to us, he tests us, he loves us. He tells us stories (though we often can't decipher, we've learned to nod and pause and affirm with the best of 'em), and he shares his joy with us. I'm so excited for more family hide n seek nights--it's fun having a kid!

Dear Rebecca: I see you, I hear you

I've been getting into the show "Parenthood" the last few weeks. It's what I watch when I'm nursing Becca and Joshua isn't around to entertain me. There's an episode where two of the characters are in marriage counseling, and the husband keeps using the phrase "I see you and I hear you." 

I often find myself saying this exact phrase to my adorable daughter. 

Rebecca, Mama sees you and Mama hears you. 

This sweet little girl--this miraculous gift from God--just wants to chat. She'll be in the middle of nursing and I'll glance down and there she is, twinkling eyes and huge bubbly grin.  

I see you and I hear you. 

I'll sit her up to burp her and I'll pause for just a second because I know that as soon as her eyes focus and she hones in on my face I'll be rewarded with the biggest grin ever, complete with drooly lips and a body wiggle. 

I see you and I hear you.

As I bustle around the house, or rapid-fire reply to emails between a feeding and the soon-to-follow nap time, she sits in her bouncer or swing and coos at her animal friends. I'll glance over every now and then and see my baby girl, eyes searching for someone to talk to. The panda on the toy bar just doesn't always cut it.

I see you and I hear you. 

When I take a moment to put down the food I'm cooking or the laundry I'm folding and simply stick my face in front of hers I am reminded: all this little one wants is me. All she is asking for is a hello. A howdy do. A moment in time to see my face and respond. 

I see you and I hear you. 

That smile melts my heart every. single. time. 

That grin causes laughter to bubble up inside me. 

That new found "coo" and "goo" and the beginnings of a giggle bring me so much sunshine on these cloudy days that I just don't know how I ever lived my life without you, Rebecca. You are my sunshine. You are my joy. 

I see you, and I hear you, and I am forever grateful that you are mine.

You Know You Have a Toddler ...

You know you have a toddler when:

You finish wrapping your husband's birthday present, flip it over, and find peanut butter smeared all over the top of the package. #peanutbuttermonger

You actually look forward to 6:15am because it's so stinkin' cute that the kid proudly says, "Waaaaake! Meeeee! Wake!" as he wiggles to get out from under his blankets.

Your formerly really cozy-cool den/reading room transforms into a fort/epic dinosaur battle room.

Crumbs on the couch, under the couch, on the floor, crushed in the carpet, sprinkled over every surface are, well, normal. #newstandardofcleanliness

You don't even feel the need to vacuum up the crumbs until people are coming over. And then only sometimes. Depending on the people.

Bananas, yogurt, string cheese and graham crackers--all things you used to eat, are ferociously protected and reserved for the youngster. So much so that you don't even remember what those yummy foods taste like anymore.

Guests have to sidestep boats, walruses, numerous fishes, balls and other such bathtub toys when trying to shower. #sorrydon'ttrip

Words like "abudatti" "dati" "hetititititoter" "aowi me" all make sense to you and are actually a relief. #nolongerlostintranslation

The words helicopter, elevator & alligator all sound the same. But you can tell the difference.

Your new baby girl gets peanut butter kiss marks on her cheeks and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles placed in her arms.

 





The approaching winter is more dreadful than ever before. How to expend enough of his energy indoors?? #impossible

You often have to explain the difference between stickers and window clings. So not the same thing ...

A blog moment is interrupted by a little voice saying, "Stories Mama? Stories?" #whocouldresist?

Bathtime is an often used reprieve to occupy and contain a non-stop bundle of energy. #heisintherenow :)

 You dream of three word sentences and a potty trained son.

Your blogging is interrupted again by the same little voice, now done with his bath, asking, "Mama plays? Me? Turtles?" and you crouch on the floor to have a battle between two ninja turtles, a giraffe and the Hulk. #practicingmybattlesounds


 You can't even count how many times a day you say, "I'll be right back", "In just a minute" "What Josh?" and "Silly! You're so funny!"

Equally so, you can't even begin to count how many times a day you hear "Deez Mama?" "Wook, Mama!" "Mama? Down?"



When playing with your precious son, you are almost always told you're doing it wrong. "No Mama!" #somanyopinions

Pretty much you know you have a toddler when your world is full of joy, giggles, tantrums, precious moments, hair-pulling situations & lots and lots of cuddly hugs, "pat-pat-pats" on the back, and sloppy wet peanut butter kisses. I pray for more words, I hope for easy potty training ... but for now, I have a little 2 1/2 year old who has said, "Deez Mama" 4 times in the last 20 seconds, just asked me to go "down" to "plays" with his sticker book in hand and his overalls falling off his shoulder. I've said, "In a minute" twice and should probably now go. #lovebeingamom

Priceless

8 salad plates = $5.52
8 dinner plates = $7.92
2 serving platters =$5.98
1 cool coffee thing = $3.99
Goodwill hunting with my future sis-in-law = PRICELESS

Be Near

Do you hang verses around your home in an attempt to be immersed in God's word?

I do. Every other cupboard door, over the stove, on the side of the microwave that faces my so called "office" in the kitchen. My bathroom door, the linen closet door, the kitchen window sill. The verses are all over, and yet, I rarely see them.

(To be fair, I do read the one on the linen closet door, only because the toilet faces that door. So ... yeah. I do read that one.)

Today I've been feeling a bit blue. "I'm blue." --Rachel, from "Friends" (Brittany Miller, name that episode... :) ) I think it's a whole bunch of things. It's the weather, it's some changes in our life, it's contemplating going back to work and all that means for my daily life with two young kids. (Dad, if you're reading this, I like my job and no, I won't quit. I know you need to retire... :P)

It's my perpetual headache, my endless sinus infections, the lack of girl time, the tantrums of my precious two year old. My blue feeling is a product of a whole bunch of things.

So as I sat down to blog, with really nothing in particular to write about--just knowing that writing tends to help me--I paused. My eyes wandered to the pile of random coupons, "to-dos", and hospital bills (ick). My gaze caught a verse that I'd taped to the microwave months ago.  One that is there, in my eyesight every day, that I don't think I've read since I wrote it down.

Nevertheless, I am continually with you; you hold my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will receive me to glory. Who have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

 I may be blue, but that verse can't NOT lift my spirits. "Nevertheless" -- no matter what. No matter headaches, or monotony of motherhood, or tantrums. "Continually" -- all of the time. Never ending. Never ceasing.

For behold, those who are far from you shall perish; you put an end to everyone who is unfaithful to you. But for me it is good to be near God; I have made the Lord God my refuge that I may tell of all your works. Psalm 73:23-28

"Good to be near" -- close to. Residing with. Snuggled up. I must say, I am not always near God. I have verses plastered around my house in an attempt to stay connected. I spend at least a few minutes most days reading my Bible, trying to journal some thoughts. I make prayer lists, and attempt to lift my voice to the Lord. I play worship music (or Joshua does) as we play and do chores. And yet ... I'm so often not "near" Him. I've put all these things in my life to help me get near, but I rarely actually draw near. Why is that?

If you have an answer, or some experience with a possible answer, please comment. :)

"But for me it is good to be near ..." It's a choice. I guess I just have to choose more often to pause, read those verses on the kitchen window sill, the bathroom door, the microwave side. It's a choice to be near.

 

Becca's Photo Book

Click here to view this photo book larger

Click here to create your own Shutterfly photo book.

My Little Butterfly

I'm not real big on super themed rooms. I have nothing against them--in fact, I'm always a little awed at how cute some people's kid's rooms are! But it's just not my thing to ever be THAT coordinated. Joshua's room had specific colors that I liked, and a monkey night light and light switch plate. That was the extent of the coordination.

When it came time to decorate Rebecca's room, I felt a little stuck. She would be sharing with the guest room, and I was adamantly against going pink. Too much pink, I thought, and I might hurl. So I opted for whites and yellows, and since the walls were blue, blue. Hints of pink--just hints. (Ended up with pink curtains, so the "hint of pink" is a little more than a hint ...) We didn't choose to go with any sort of animal theme, just colors and pretty decor.

It came time for me to send my ideas for the design of Becca's name print to our cousin, Emily. She designed Joshua's, and I was so excited to have another one done for my baby girl! I talked it over with Erik, we chose a verse, decided on the color scheme and then I asked him, "What should be on the picture?"

See, I didn't really want owls or birds, though those baby girl designs are adorable. I didn't want jungle beasts or zoo animals as that's Joshua's thing and I didn't want him stealing her picture. :) Butterflies had crossed my mind, but I don't love butterflies either (obviously I have a problem here). However, butterflies were seeming like the way to go. And when I asked Erik, he, on his own, said butterflies as well. So it seemed we were going with the butterfly idea! So I sent our notes to Emily so she could work her magic.

Life went on, days dragged on, and we finally reached Becca's birth day. I gathered a few items including a pink blanket with a butterfly on it. "Funny," I thought as I folded it, "there's a butterfly!"

Well you all know the story of Rebecca's arrival. What should have been a perfect labor and delivery ended up unexpectedly awful when our little girl came out limp and not breathing. (See here for the story). And in the days that followed, I started to notice something: there were butterflies everywhere. On blankets given as gifts, on sleepers received from out-of-state aunties, on toys for the car seat, on swaddle wraps from friends. At first I just thought, "Well obviously Target had a line of butterfly themed items this year."

But as I sat in the dimly lit NICU room, listening to the hum of the cooling machine that was working hard to cool my daughter in order to hopefully protect her brain from further damage, I realized something.

Becca is our butterfly. 

She came to us in this big person world but needed some extra time in a cocoon. Her cocoon happened to be a plastic box in the NICU but it was a cocoon all the same. My little girl needed some time to recover from what had happened to her--something that the rest of the world will never know or understand--and after a while in that cocoon, she could come out in all her butterfly glory. Which she has done fully--smiling and cooing and growing and pooping, my butterfly is stunningly beautiful.

And so now I have fully embraced this butterfly theme. The print from Emily is perfect. I had a light switch plate designed to match. Becca's Auntie Jen found her a butterfly costume for Halloween.

And I still notice butterflies on her clothes and blankets and just smile now because I realize it's not just a line from Target. It's a reminder of God's protection--God's miraculous protection--of my little butterfly.

Parenting: The Ultimate Power Trip

If I were a power monger, I would want to be a parent.

Isn't parenting the ultimate power trip? I mean really--there's this tiny little person (or people) who can't quite talk yet, can't dress themselves, can't feed themselves any more than some crackers from the low shelf in the pantry. They can't drive themselves anywhere, they can't dial a phone number. They have to listen to you, and you technically can {try} to make them do so.

Parenting is the ultimate power trip. Can you imagine if I, or any parent, capitalized (in a bad way) on this place of power? If I allowed the fragrance of complete and total authority to get to my head? What if I chose to rule and reign in my household, and whip these little ones into shape?

I'm telling you--not a pretty picture.

My job as a parent is to shape and correct my child, of course. Out of love, and in love, I am to "pull weeds" and strive to mold my child into the person God has created him or her to be. Most days I don't know what I'm doing. I've read some books, sought some counsel, but in the heat of the moment, I'm often slack jawed and grasping at straws. What DO you DO when a two year old throws books down the stairs, burst into tears, and blabbers something unintelligibly ending in ".... mine, Daddy!" while you're glued to the couch, nursing the one month old who chooses that moment to projectile spit milky goo everywhere, and then bless you with a cross-eyed grin?

Jeremiah 10:24 "Correct me, O Lord, but in justice; not in your anger, lest you bring me to nothing."

As Joshua travels through the so called "terrible twos" (I strongly dislike that label), I am challenged every day to correct in justice, but not in anger. To follow God's example and administer justice because it's the right thing to do; not because it feeds my power trip and fuels my anger. I could so easily "bring him to nothing"--which is a terrifying reality as a parent. I am physically huge relative to my little boy (which won't last long I know!), and relationally in charge. How easy it would be to misstep and reduce my son to nothing. Shame him, ignore him, look past him, yell at him ... way to easy. I know myself, and not only can I snap once I've reached a certain point, but I also easily (and often gladly) carry a grudge.

Again, I have to keep Christ in mind, and when my little boy quickly flips the switch and moves on from his tantrum to sunshine, butterflies, and toddler love, which he can do astoundingly quickly, I must move on too. Holding a grudge against a two year old is, well, stupid. Just about as stupid as if God held grudges against us trantrum-y human beings.

So here's to a day without anger, but full of justice. Justice carried out in love with the end in mind. Because my son is practically asking me to correct him in justice, but not in anger--because I truly could reduce him to nothing. Instead, I'd like to think that every minute of every hour I'm with him, I am pouring into him, building him up, pulling out weeds, tilling the soil of his heart so that 20 years from now I can say to myself and Erik, "Job well done."

Guitar Picks & Bobby Pins

Everywhere I go in this house, I find guitar picks. 

On the kitchen table, kitchen counters, kitchen floors.

In Joshua's toy bins, between the couch cushions, on the piano bench.

On the dryer, in the lint trap, on the basement floor.

Guitar picks are everywhere. 

This used to irritate me. I'd think, Why can't he just keep them all in one place? When is he going to be more responsible with his picks? {frustrated sigh} {musicians}

Then one day I noticed something ...

Everywhere I go in this house, I find bobby pins. 

Wedged in the carpet, caught under pillows, slipped under shelves.

On the counters, in the car cup holders, on the end table. 

On the dryer, in the lint trap, on the basement floor.

Bobby pins are everywhere. 

This has never irritated me. Why? 

Because the bobby pins are mine.

The guitar picks are his.

Why is it that we (and by "we" I mean wives) see only the things our husbands do and not the things that we do? (by "things" I mean potentially irritating things).

I'm not better than he; and he is no better than I. We each have our oddities; we each have our strengths. We choose to do this life together and therefore ...

Guitar picks and bobby pins are everywhere. 

And always will be.