Like Brother, Like Sister

Salem

And that, my friends, is the trouble with twins.

Detox

Sunday we were served dinner at the home of some friends. The hostess was explaining to the children how water is so very good for you and flushes your body of toxins.

On Monday, I made a quiche for lunch. I decided to use up the rest of the pizza fixin's from the weekend. Chicken, cheeses, and tomato went in the quiche. "Tomatoes? TOMATOES???? Ewww! Do we HAVE to eat the tomatoes?"

"You do if you want dessert," I responded.

Abraham (5) took a big bite of his quiche and then hollered, "QUICK! Get me some water! I need to flush this poison from my body!"

Thanks, Midge. My kids now eagerly drink water to counter their mother's cooking.

Facebook Shmacebook

I hate Facebook.

I really do. I hate it when my real-life friends (aka the ones whose voices I can hear, not just read) tell me about some long-lost person who recently contacted them via Facebook. I hate hearing their turmoil over whether to friend someone. I hate what they've done to mundane terms like "The Wall," "poke," and "like."

My husband hates it more. He's a purist hater, not a hypocritical one like me. In other words, he has managed to naysay it for years and refrain from setting up a Facebook account.

Me, not so much.

I'm still trying to figure out how to naysay it and maintain an account. I'm 75% sure I'll delete the account (or try very hard...I've heard it's very difficult to do). It was a dumb decision made late at night when we were trying to find a picture of a certain someone that a certain someone else we know may be interested in. We could see a little bit on Facebook, but not enough to satisfy our (OK, my) curiosity. And then we (OK, I) started rabbit-trailing and looking up people from Homer, Alaska, in an attempt to lure my husband in and get him to stop giving me that raised eyebrow.

It sort of worked.

I've always used the excuse that if I wanted to keep a relationship going with someone, I would. I wouldn't need some social networking site to get us together so we could relive high-school  times when we wore the same dress to the Prom (err..."Extravaganza"...I went to a Christian school). And that's mostly true. I keep in contact, or know how to keep in contact, with most of my good friends.

But it's not all the way true. I mean, let's face it: I can't can barely keep track of the people in this house, let alone those outside of it. For the past two (three?) weeks, a certain 2-yr. old has been discovered wearing a size 8 blue croc and a size 9 blue croc (he's a size 6 camouflage croc) every time we get to our destination (how I consistently miss this when we leave the house, I don't know. Yes, I do. It's very low on my priority list). And if a friend (or, OK, acquaintance) has a life crisis and doesn't email all of her friends but instead hastily updates her Facebook, I can be aware of how to help. (It's a MISSION FIELD! Snort, snort, har, har, chuckle, chuckle...relax, Ethan, I jest, I jest!)

Or, more to the point (and perhaps marginally less likely), if someone wants to get ahold of me because they are burdened with financial excess (or a 15-passenger van) that they would like to unload on my family but they don't know how to track me down...well, Facebook could be a lifesaver.

Blecch. The words Facebook and lifesaver in the same sentence are sour in my mouth. And on my fingertips.

The truth is that I'm nosy. I've posted enough to satisfy any nosy long-ago friends of mine (she has EIGHT kids? She's a PASTOR'S wife? I knew she was weird! But how'd she hook that guy?) and that's enough for me. People can see I'm there (for the minute) and contact me (I love REAL MAIL...ask me for my address!) or not.

And I'll keep looking for the missing pair of size 8/size 9 crocs.

(Pssst...Ethan....I know you're right. Facebook is stupid.)

Our New Theme Song

Hat Tip to Catalog Living, a site that makes me giggle

NO, NO, NO!!!!

Gideon

Has It Been That Long Already?

Newlyweds become oldyweds, and oldyweds are the reasons that families work.

~Unknown

Enjoy life with the wife whom you love, all the days of your vain life that he has given you under the sun, because that is your portion in life and in your toil at which you toil under the sun.

~Ecclesiastes 9:9, ESV

Highlights through our years:

• 2000: our honeymoon :)
• 2001: Benjamin - our first son and our ineptness (aka Attachment Parenting)
• 2002: you started seminary
• 2003: Lily Ann - our first daughter
• 2004: our trip to Seattle (Ben: "But where's Attle? I want to see her!")
• 2005: Abraham and Miriam - our first set of twins
• 2006: our notorious trip to Florida - the breakdown(s) on I-95, the stinky water, the love bugs (ewww), and hiding morning sickness from relatives
• 2007: Eden - our first chuckley baby -AND- our first family trip to Maine
• 2008: Jonathan - our first kid to take 9 months to sit b/c he couldn't stop crawling -AND- you finished seminary!
• 2009: our year in Montana
• 2010: Gideon and Salem - our first set of twins born at term -AND- your ordination!!!

I'm realizing most of these years are peppered with the births of children. But it's not their momentous births that I remember so well (as you say, women forget what birth is like all too quickly). It's all the stuff in between - the thousands of tickles, kissed owies, nights on the porch after the children are in bed, gifts of iced coffee just when I most need them, Netflix or Hulu that I sleep through, midnight runs for pregnancy tests, 1 1/2 mile hikes that take all afternoon with children, late-night running in a quiet world, mad scrambles for the checkbook or the check or my keys or the cell phone or their shoes, homemade sleds, 5-day road trips, the wonder of a Redwood tree, stolen vehicles, 6-yr. olds and their reading lights, choruses of "broccoli, celery, gotta be ... Wedgie Tales!" - the way you carry on, carry me on, and carry our family on. Nothing has been too much for you. You've never said (out loud), "I don't want this...I hate this...why can't things be like they were before..." You've always embraced the day and helped me to smile at it, too.


I'm not sure that ten years qualifies us as "oldyweds," but I love the thought of being oldywed with you.


God has lavished goodness upon me through you. I love you.

33 Reasons I Love Him

1. his incredible sense of humor (he finds the laugh in everything)
2. those clear blue eyes
3. he likes to pick berries and apples and pears and pumpkins
4. his terrible mock-Irish accent (Is that Pakistani?)
5. his strength (he once moved a player piano from our living room across our icy Montana yard to the U-Haul trailer...alone)
6. the way he endures, even enthusiastically, my patchy, botched-up attempts at pie crusts
7. the way he endures, even enthusiastically, my family
8. he can balance a standing baby on his palm
9. he looks each child in the eyes and makes her feel as if she's his favorite
10. he looks me in the eyes and makes me feel as if I'm his favorite
11. his love for the church and her people
12. the way God has gifted him with discernment -- he can discern anything: the real motive behind a conversation, the true theological problem lurking behind the spoken one, the reason I'm upset or frustrated, the solution to a child's dilemma
13. he's a true Renaissance man -- want to know about pipes? backpacking? homesteading? church history? Kentucky?  Brazil? mixed martial arts? Alaska? diapers? fishing? brewing? coffee? peppers? Daniel Boone? Donna Reed?
14. he watches the Donna Reed Show with me
15. when I start to fade (2/3rds of the way through every Donna Reed show), he smiles, takes my legs and rubs my feet -- I know! He's such a keeper!
16. when he gives the benediction (and not just because I can turn the kids back over to him!!!)
17. he runs with me...and doesn't fuss about how slow I go
18. his decorating sense
19. he never calls me fat or makes any comment whatsoever about losing weight
20. he seeks ways to ease others' burdens
21. he enjoys surprising our children with unexpected delights
22. he enjoys surprising me with unexpected delights
23. he doesn't take my whining too seriously but feigns concern rather well
24. his webbed toes that he passed on to Benjamin
25. he can stay up all night (another trait passed on to every Allison boy and none of the girls)
26. the 1000 games he invents to play with the kids, which they love -- and in which he always looks suspiciously like he's taking a nap
27. every dog in the world loves him
28. every baby in the world loves him
29. he knows Portuguese
30. he can find a common interest with anyone anywhere
31. he likes road trips -- even with us!!
32. he never criticizes my teaching the children
33. and the final one (for this list) has to do with something we've said for ... I don't know how long. I'll say, "I love you," and he'll say, "I love you more," and I'll say, "No, you just love me better." And it's true. He loves me better. And I love him more for it.

Happy birthday, Gorgeous.