Friday, April 30, 2010

cloudy morning

It's so nice and warm outside AND stormy and windy and gray. I love Spring around here; it's almost as if it's the time of year when the weather itself is feeling alive, newly woken from the frigidity of winter, ready to bring chaos and movement into the world again.

Speaking of alive and chaos and movement-- I have a baby in my tummy. You know how I know? I felt it kicking this morning in a very real "My baby just kicked me from the inside of my body" kind of way. I had my hand on my stomach and actually saw it MOVE once. If that's not alive (for the baby) and chaotic (for me) I don't know what is. The only times I've felt he/she kick is when I've been praying for them. I know it's because he/she feels their Heavenly Father loving on them and spending time with them and giving them the nourishment that they need, and I'm so glad, because I want them to know that they are His, and I want them to know that feeling of belonging and love from the very second they are able.

Being pregnant and expecting a baby feels absolutely nothing like I thought it would. It's so much scarier and overwhelming than I thought it would be. And I know that it will be okay and wonderful and normal all very soon, but I'm not there yet, neither of us are. And I guess that's a part of the process too.

Monday, April 26, 2010

making lunch

I just made myself a lunch of warm lentil salad, which includes carrot, celery, garlic, oregano, and a significant amount of red wine vinegar, along with a half sandwich of leftover homemade tuna salad (which was a new recipe, and quite, quite good) on toasted whole wheat honey bread. It was perfect.

Why is it that making yourself lunch is almost better than someone else making lunch for you? Maybe you're thinking: "Well, I don't know if I agree..." First of all, thank you for disagreeing with me so politely! Second of all, I think it's because I can make it just the way I want it, aesthetically and ingredient-wise. And thirdly, and most importantly, I think it's because I am taking time out of my day to do something nice for myself. It's like it's worth it for me to spend a reasonable amount of time doing something just for me--like I am worth it. And it does make me feel special, and well-fed, and totally satisfied.

Sunday, April 25, 2010

sunday afternoon

So often we (meaning Jeremy and I) have the television on, to keep us feeling like we're doing something besides lazing around, to keep us from getting bored, to keep us from getting lonely, to keep us motivated to do housework (okay, the last two may just be me). Right now, though, it's off, and I can hear my husband's breathing from a chair across the room as he goes in and out of sleep, the wind outside, the clickety-clack of the keyboard. It's nice. I wish I enjoyed this when I was by myself, but usually I'm too afraid of my thoughts, of being alone. I've gotten different as I've gotten older--more afraid, more anxious.

For example: I used to adore big thunderstorms. I would go outside, feel the wind in my hair, and would be so excited, so exhilarated by the feeling of freedom, alone in a big, dangerous world. I felt bigger than myself, a part of something so wild, without boundaries. Now I check the news minute-by-minute, listening for the town sirens warning of a tornado or hail or heavy winds. I wonder when Fear crept its way into that part of my spirit. And what other parts of me have been infiltrated or damaged or simply unalterably changed by its presence there.

When I remember how I used to feel, I'm scared in a different way about what that means for my heart and spirit. What kind of wife I am now, what kind of mother I will be... I don't know what has happened, or what I need to do to regain that wildness I used to experience, but I know that it's missing now, and that I'm desperate for it to reappear.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Waiting. (Yes, still.)

I'm sitting here in our apartment, back from class, watching a sitcom, digesting my second dinner of Raisin Bran, and watching my poor dear husband do work at home, which he shouldn't have to do. Lately, life has not been busy, exactly, just... full. And not in a good way. We are both doing things that are not the real things, like the things that we want to do or that we feel we are supposed to do. I don't know if that makes sense. He's working (at home) on a job he can't stand. And then at night and on the weekends he's working on a house that we aren't living in. I'm cleaning an apartment that we'll move out of soon, hopefully, and I'm working at school and pretty soon on a thesis that I don't really care about anymore, or that at least won't be a part of my life in the very near future. We aren't having dinner with friends. We aren't beautifying our home. We don't HAVE a home. We aren't going out on Friday nights. We don't feel like we're living, I think. Just going through the motions, waiting for the next season to (finally) begin.

I guess that shows a clear picture of where we are, really. Waiting and frustrated by our lack of movement. I don't know that we're hopeless, but I think we may be close. Maybe that means we're almost there? Almost to the Promised Land? (Or, at least to Move-In Day?)

I know feeling this way must seem strange, as we're having a baby soon. You would think that we feel like things are moving, happening. But that doesn't feel real yet. It feels like it can't be real yet, because not only are we not ready, we are REALLY not ready. We aren't in a place to even prepare, yet. I mean, I'm doing my best to prepare emotionally, but when nothing else is in place physically, there doesn't seem to be a place, literally and figuratively, to prepare mentally. And that's just going to have to be okay, at least for the time being. Maybe if I write it again, we'll all believe it.

It's just going to have to be okay (deep breath) for the time being.

I know that it is not hopeless. We are not alone. We are not stagnating. We are just waiting. And that's okay, for the time being.

Friday, April 16, 2010


i did a blog once before and...well, it petered out. or i did. well, it doesn't matter who. (i'm blaming the blog.)

but now that i'm pregnant, and in the near future jeremy and i will be both birthing a baby, a thesis, and a house (i think the pain involved may be comparable), it might be nice to have a private space outside of facebook and its faceless hoards to let people know how and what we're up to.

me at fifteen weeks (sorry it's a bit dark).

hopefully i do a bit better this time in keeping up. we'll all just wait and see!

just kidding. i WILL do better. and maybe, along with the house, baby, and thesis, i can talk a bit about food, too. we have a CSA this summer for the first time, and that might bring up some interesting scenarios.

Jeremy: "What on earth is that?!"
Alanna: "Dinner."

Jeremy: [Just coming in from work] "What's for dinner?"
Alanna: "Kohlrabi souffle."
[Antics ensue]