Mini-Me

People have asked throughout her whole life which one of us Keira looks like.  We've gone back and forth - and it changes with every facial expression...but as she's getting older, I think she's looking more and more like me.  I feel pretty vain thinking she's stupid cute AND that she looks like me.

But, if she's anything like her Mama, there are many awkward years ahead.


We just came across some old baby pictures of me as my mom has been going through her basement.  It's been nostalgic, but mostly funny.

For your visual enjoyment, here are some gems from the collection compared to Keira:

This is me.  Mostly censored.

Keira - 12 months.

There's my mom, responsibly watching me and whatnot.

There's my baby, cheeks and all.

Me, concentrating.

Keira, concentrating.

So, there you have it.  She's my baby.

New Restaurant

I am under the impression that the bathroom speaks volumes about any establishment.



Rob and I went to Firebirds (a nice new-ish restaurant) on our date night last week.  We looked at a menu outside, said, "Sure, this looks good," and tried it.

Sweetwater prices.  Good food.  Great, cohesive, poshy environment.  Not too loud, not eerily quiet.  Nice touches along the way (i.e. the waitress said goodbye to us by name, per the credit card, imprint in the outside ash tray, they held the door for us as we left).

AND, the bathroom was fantastic!  Complete with built in nooks for candles in the walls...and in each stall.

I would've taken a picture of the candles in the bathroom - but thought that "might" be "creepy."

All in all, Firebirds was a win.

When It Rains, It Pours

Last week was "one of those weeks."

Our grill broke.  No big deal, our grill is old and was fixed quickly for $17.  But, our grill broke on a day when I had a lovely dinner prepared - ready to go...on the grill.  Entirely.  The entirety of our meal was going to be grilled.

No big deal.  We still have an oven.  And food to eat.

But, the grill broke on the same week when my car has an oil leak, tire leak, and an unidentified engine problem (when, yes, we just put several hundred dollars into the engine).  And Rob's truck has a cracked windshield.  And the disposal broke.  And we had an ant infestation.  And, my alarm clock died.  It's dumb (and hyper sentimental), but it was a present for my 7th birthday...and it's been part of my life for 20 years.  Clearly, it's lived a good life, but now I have to figure out a new clock, which I hate having to do.


All of this stuff is totally normal - but it begs the question, "Jesus, what are You trying to teach me right now?  What are You trying to show me?"

Sincerely, as frustrated (and to be honest, anxious) as I've been about all of these mild annoyances to my otherwise comfortable existence, I trust that God is trying to show me something.


God has used this week to reveal areas of pride in my life that I hadn't previously even seen... and showing me, again, my need for dependence on Him.  He is the provider, and He LOVES to care for His children.  While in my pride I feel so independent figure out how to solve the problems of our lives...and try to fix things, I forget who He is.  I often struggle with feeling "able" to do certain things, and with twisted reason, I think I can (and should) fix things on my own - so that I wouldn't be a burden to a God who has other things to care for.  But, that's not who my God is.  My God LOVES to spoil and provide for me.  Not necessarily to give me a bunch of stuff - but to meet my needs in such a way as to give glory ONLY to Himself.  It is pampering to me when the Creator of the Universe lovingly provides for me.  When He communicates that I am so important and precious that I am not forgotten, and that His plan for me is so intricate and delicate that He would align circumstances in ways so meticulous that only He could have done it.


This week, in particular, He has reminded me of these truths.  He has provided for us in such specific and tangible ways, that I have been overwhelmed - and blessed to remember the meticulous care of our loving Father.

Rapture

Do you ever get the feeling you missed the rapture?  That many people have disappeared and you didn't make the cut.

That definitely happened to me this morning when I pulled into work a few minutes before 9 (which seemed like a perfectly reasonable time to show up for work)...and there was no one there.  Even the receptionist desk was unmanned when I walked by, which gave me a mini-panic attack.

When these things happen, I start to rack my brain to think if there's something serious going on in the world that I missed, which, to be honest, is very plausible.  Then, I wonder if maybe it was the rapture and I've been left behind.


No lie.  As I was typing this, my dear pastor, Mike Minter, popped my head into my office and said, "It's like a ghost-town in here.  Did we miss the rapture?"

I told him I thought the same thing, but that I felt better that he was here.

Phew.  Dodged a bullet there.

I got glasses

I'm the only person alive who's always wanted glasses.

When I was in middle school, I had a fake pair that my mom told me made me look smarter.  She wasn't wrong.

A few weeks ago, my mom needed to get new glasses and asked me to come with her to pick them out.  I am the best and worst shopping buddy because I actually tell you what I think of a potential purchase. While I try to be gracious, unfortunately, I'm usually just brutally honest.

So, we went and got some great glasses for her...and while we were there, I found a pair that I really liked.  A lot.  So much, that I went back to the office and looked up Rob's ophthalmologist - and I called to make my very first eye appointment.  Vain?  Yes.  But I did it anyway.

To be fair, I've noticed in the past years that my eyes aren't what they used to be.  It takes me a long time to focus between objects (particularly from near to far and vise versa), poor depth perception, and have to move away from people or words too close to be able to see them.  In fact, once I made the appointment, I only noticed more and more how tired my eyes felt all of the time - apparently from straining all of the time.

Sure enough, I have an astigmatism.  Here's the thing - I have it and don't even know if it's proper to say "an astigmatism" or just "I have astigmatism."  Like a condition...which it is... so  maybe no "an"?

But, I got my glasses and LOVE them.  It took a while for my muscles to adjust so I didn't get headaches or strain to see out of them - but they're awesome.  I even made Rob go and get his eyes checked.  We literally drove by the office and I dialed the phone and handed it to him.

So.  Done and done.  I can actually read now.  And see, so that's good.  Also, they look super cool (Mike Minter even told me, so you know it's true).

Happy Father's Day

Keira was born just before Father's Day last year - so Rob was able to celebrate his first Father's Day with his brand new baby girl.  It was nice.  But, being completely honest, he hadn't done that much as a dad at that point in his father-hood.

But, this year is different.  For a year now, he's been a dad - and has done a tremendous amount of Dad stuff.

So, here are some of the reasons Keira LOVES her daddy:
- He teaches her the bad/fun stuff (i.e. regularly, I have to remind him that the "fun" thing he's doing isn't okay to let her do, so probably he should stop.  Like banging on the window.  Or stuffing a hazardous amount of food in either of their mouths.  Or singing and dancing while eating.)
- He takes care of her.
- He disciplines her - in love - AND, she listens.  WAY more than when I tell her "no," when her dad does, she obeys.
- "Dada" was her first word.
- He encourages me to go do stuff - so they can spend quality time together, and so I can get out of the house.  It's a good system (and mutually beneficial to all parties).
- He reads to her.
- He talks to her and explains stuff.  All kinds of stuff.
- He makes her laugh.
- He REALLY makes her laugh.
- He loves her mama.
- He makes killer dad jokes.
- He protects her.
- He provides for our family.
- He's silly.
- He's the best Grover puppeteer in the whole world.
- He prays for and with her.
- He teaches her about Jesus.

We're blessed, Robbie.  Thanks for being a great dad for our daughter.

Happy Birthday, Baby.

Keira,

Happy 1st Birthday, my dear girl.  I can't tell you how special it has been to have had this year with you - and I will only say that when you have your own little girl, you will better understand.

This year has been amazing.  When you were born - with your little cone head, I could hardly believe that you were finally here.  Your father and I had waited so long to meet you.  We were so excited to finally know the little girl we anticipated and planned for over the past months.  You were like my little chipmunk with your big ol' cheeks (and yes, I joked on many occasions that you were storing up for the winter).  But, you were so cute - and truly, still are.  You smiled from your first day, a smile that was indicative of the year ahead.

Even though you only have a few words, you and I have a special bond.  You are Mommy's special girl.  I know you.  You have the sweetest spirit - and while at times you're blatantly disobedient and rebellious (which you come by naturally, so we understand), you have a precious heart.  You hug Daddy and I all of the time - and even when you're sleeping, you pat our backs when we hold you...almost as if to say, "I love you too, Mama."  You are already so grown up, independent, strong, and willful...but so fun and caring towards others.  You have been a joy to our family and we don't hardly remember life without you.

God has used you to teach us much about His love for His children.  Daddy and I don't have it down yet, but even from the moment you were ours, we loved you in an overwhelming way.  Just by your position as our child, we love, and have loved, you.  The same way God loves us as His children.  As God has allowed Daddy and I to care for and raise you, He is teaching us much about HIs own plan for our lives, even though we're old, we still have much to learn.

Over these past months, the overwhelming thing that God has prompted me to pray for you is that He would direct you to become a women of integrity and character.  Honestly, I'm anxious to see how that will play out in your life - because I know it's from Jesus and He has something big planned for you.  As much as Daddy and I love you, Jesus loves you so much more (which we don't even understand, because we love you so much we hardly think there's room to love you more).  You are the special girl we prayed for - so we know God must have something really important for your life.

But, as it's your birthday, I've been remembering the events of last year, when you were born.  Many of our friends and family came to meet you at the hospital.  Our friend Mr. Erik gave you a lovely book that I read to you even last night.  When Mommy was a little girl, Grandpa listened to a song that was special to me - and something that Grandpa and I shared together...and the book that Mr. Erik gave you was the same song with pictures - so you and Mommy can share it together too!  I love you, Keira Shay.  May you stay forever young.


May God bless and keep you always,
May your wishes all come true,
May you always do for others
And let others do for you.


May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.


May you grow to be righteous,
May you grow up to be true,
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you.


May you always be courageous,
Stand upright and be strong,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.


May your hands always be busy,
May your feet always be swift,
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift.


May your heart always be joyful,
May your song always be sung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay...forever young.
                                -Bob Dylan