Saturday, November 14, 2015
Last night I dreamed a telephone was ringing. Usually this turns out to be your alarm and you wake up and have this weird sort of urge to answer the phone convinced the president is calling you and oh by the way you're late for school even though you graduated years ago. Gotta love dreams, right? But it wasn't my alarm. It was a Friday night and it was my turn to sleep in the next morning. Matt was mumbling something about letting them leave a message but I still stumbled out of bed, groping for the telephone because it was, after all, midnight, and even the most dedicated of telemarketers in Paris usually give up around 9 pm and turn in.
I didn't even really have time to get worried. It figures that something as horrific as the multiple terrorist attacks last night would have first made it all the way across the big blue expanse and to my parents' tv set before I was even conscious that people were dying so horribly in my city. 2015, it seems, in the most awfully literal way, will have begun and ended with a bang. Last January, as many of you still remember, Paris was touched by terrorism when a couple of men raided the French satirical publication Charlie Hebdo and executed many of the employees who worked there. I remember feeling conflicted. I was shocked in the face of such violence and horrified that those men lost their lives in the name of God. And yet, I couldn't raise them up as heroes and martyrs as so many of those around me. There is nothing heroic about mocking the sacred. Belittling someone's faith whether Jew, Christian, or Muslim (and they regularly made fun of all three), does not take courage and freedom of speech does not eliminate the necessity of wisdom in our words and actions.
In the days to come the nightmare unfolded in new and scary ways. I remember going shopping the day after during the traditional January sales--normally a zoo of shopping bags, stressed out shoppers, and fought over shoes. In the place of the usual consumerist crazy marched uniform clad soldiers with big guns and a chill trailing behind their clipped steps. Every shop was talking about it. In Gap they were joking that they should probably shave their beards so as not to be confused with terrorists. I saw Je Suis Charlie badges everywhere. The day after I was at work when my boss informed me of the hostage situation taking place in a Jewish grocery store across the city not far from where good friends of ours live. Without panicking the children we needed to get them inside the school as quickly as possible and stay inside until the hostage situation had been resolved. We took down the sign on the front door indicating that we're a school and the reign of Alerte Vigipirate began. No more parking outside of city halls, schools, prominent churches, or the police station. A heavily armed man was now posted outside of our local synagogue. On Monday we heard that there was another hostage situation, this time only minutes down the road from the school next to a grocery store that we go to weekly. Once again we were tense and on edge; some of our school children live in that neighborhood.
As it turned out, the third attack was mercifully uneventful and not terrorist related but for the first time, my confidence in the stability of my city was shaken. You didn't know where or when the next attack was coming from. The first had been targeted; this, more and more random... It felt as if every troubled and radical Muslim in the city was coming out of the woodwork in angry vengeance. For the first time in a relatively sheltered Western life, I felt truly unsafe. As a Christian, it was hard to know how to position myself. I knew all the Sunday school answers but deep down in my core I knew I needed more than just a platitude. The truth is, I was scared then and I'm scared now. I won't deny it and hide behind a front of pretending that Christians don't ever feel threatened by the overwhelming presence of evil in this world.
And evil it was. Reports are rolling in revealing the massacre of the night before. Whole cafe terraces shot dead while enjoying an evening drink. Young people murdered as they were shot up and thrown grenades at during a rock concert. Bomb blasts during a French-German soccer game. One of my friends, holed up during bible study and unable to get back to her nursing baby for fear of going out in the streets. A fellow parent from church stuck in the soccer stadium with his two small boys trying to reassure them. My coworker, about a week away from her due date lives in the very neighborhood the hostage situation took place in. Thankfully she was actually sleeping when it all took place but not having heard from her, I and another coworker were concerned. Another friend had both her brother, sister and their spouses that went out for dinner in the neighborhood that got shot up. They were just 300 meters away from the restaurant shooting when it happened, thanking God that they had changed their mind about having dinner in that very restaurant earlier. They found refuge with a hundred other people hiding in a hotel basement.
This attack hits even closer to home than last January. The multiple shootings occurred in our old neighborhood, just a couple of blocks away from our former apartment. I can picture the concert hall that was shot up. I can imagine the cafe and bar nightlife well, having walked those streets many a time while living over there. The truth is, I am scared. I live in a city where I might be blown up just taking the subway or having a drink in a restaurant. I knew that before and I am reminded in the most horrific way possible that my physical safety can crumble at any second. But if I stay focused on this chapter in history then I will lose sight of the big picture. God's bigger picture. You see, I believe in a big God. A God who is writing a large narrative; one in which there is heartbreaking conflict but overwhelming resolution. The most joyful of happy endings. I am as baffled as the next person by the ways God moves and the tragedies he allows to occur. The Bible, however, promises a time coming when there will be no more tears. No more suffering. Evil completely weeded out and eradicated. A God who is waiting for the maximum number of souls to find their freedom, peace, and joy in him. So yes, I'm scared. But I also know where to tell my emotions to get off at when they threaten to consume me. Because this isn't the end of the story.
Sunday, June 21, 2015
It's so hard to know how to get something like this started. Thank you just falls short. Having started on the parental journey myself I'm just now getting a taste for what you and Mom did and continue to do for me (And I don't just mean that infamous blueberry filled diaper that you had to change). You have taught me, in few words, the value of hard work and becoming someone that people can count on. You're probably one of the most humble people I know. It was you who jogged alongside of me while I chugged and puffed and sputtered along, all with high hopes of not making a fool of myself on the cross country team. And it was still you, who got up at the crack of dawn to ferry me to those ridiculously early morning Friday runs. I'm sure I gave you way too much lip and attitude in those days and yet somehow we made it through without you disowning me ;)
I still have the letters you wrote me and the memories of father-daughter dates that only become more special with time. Your steadiness and commitment to be there for the people you care about during good times and bad never ceases to amaze me. I can't count the number of times that you have selflessly sacrificed time to help others with IT problems. You are a man of deep integrity and loyalty to which I aspire to be like (well, the female version, that is!). You have practiced what you preach and it has not fallen on deaf ears. So thank you. Thank you for all that and a million other things, big and small. Even though it falls short, know that you have a daughter who is grateful for all that you are.
Happy Father's Day
Friday, May 29, 2015
Saturday, May 2, 2015
It was a 5 day cruise, starting in Miami and making it's way first to Grand Cayman island and then Castaway Cay before heading back to port in Miami. Castaway Cay is Disney's own private island in the Bahamas and I guess if anyone is going to have a private island, it would be Disney. Here are some of the highlights:
1. 24 hour beverage station: can we say free refills anyone? I'm sure I probably took a few years off my life with the amount of Diet Cokes I consumed.
2. Tons of activities: we took a cooking class, there were toddler art activities for Livia, ping-pong and shuffle board galore, aka no reason to get bored aboard (pun intentional).
3. Pirate night (see below). Otherwise known as an excuse to get my husband to put an eye patch and a bandanna on. Too bad I couldn't get him to say 'arrrgh'. Not sure it would have been believable anyways considering his tee shirt says 'enjoy and smile today.' Just sayin'....
The cutest pirate in the room and with matching pacifier.
4. The fireworks show after Captain Hook takes over the deck party and Mickey saves the day.
5. This below. Enough said :)
6. Our awesome semi-submarine ride. Minus the last 20 min when seasickness kicked in. Who doesn't love seeing Nemo fish close up? And taking pics in super weird lighting?
7. The running track that wraps around the ship deck and the completely free gym and fitness center. Basically no reason not to work off that all you can eat ice cream that I may or may not have indulged in. I also may or may not have banged my head on the fitness center ceiling when doing the elliptical machine...several times... #tallpersonproblems
Yeah the whole Livia watching me run by thing didn't last long since she thought I was abandoning her every time Mommy ran to the other side of the ship...
8. Swimming in the ocean. I had no idea how hard it would be for me being on the sea and yet not being able to swim in it! Thank goodness for Disney and their private island. Livia whipped out her Minnie suit just for the occasion.
9. Biking around Castaway Cay with these crazy kids. I mean, seriously, who doesn't love a good cruise through a tropical island on a banana bike?
From left to right: bro-in-law Ray, hubs Matt, sista from the same motha Natalie (DMS by those on the in)
Below: this is what happens when I attempt taking pictures while bike riding...
10. Massage cabanas....that I didn't get to use...sigh. Next time. ;)
11. Ice cream. I scream. I scream for ice cream.
12. Not pictured but I would be remiss not to add the food. I'm talking about you, 3 course and deliciousness on a plate.
And now for less than nice but equally memorable moments during the week:
1. Attempting to wrangle a toddler with lots of exciting temptations around.
2. Attempting to to take kodak moments of said toddler.
3. While everyone else is attempting to do the exact same thing.
4. Matt accidentally kicking me in the head Hitch-style as he swings his leg around to get up on the inner tube. I was holding it down so it made things very interesting for him when I was propelled off. No worries though folks; I came up laughing. He, however, came up sputtering.
5. There are a whole lot of things that can maim and kill you in that water according to Disney. Of course, the real danger lurking in those pristine waters was not the sharks, jellyfish, or even sea lice (seriously??). Who thought it would be the adult sized human excrement that floated past our inner tube while we were frolicking like dolphins in the water? Yes you heard me. One minute I'm contemplating ways to flip Matt off his inner tube and the next I'm running for my life from the log of poop lulling towards me.
The crappy times aside (once again, pun intended) on the whole it was a fabulous vacation and we are so thankful that we got to make fun memories with my family. And so it's back to reality now! (With a quick jaunt to the Swiss border to help with the transition of course!)
Sunday, April 12, 2015
I'm not gonna lie. Before Livia was even born, I was dying to get a play kitchen for her. The play opportunities are endless and they probably rank on the cuteness scale somewhere around small puppies and newborn toes. This past Christmas I couldn't resist any longer. Pinterest (curse you Pinterest and your wily, addictive ways!) was chock full of the most adorable DIYed play kitchens known to motherkind and I just could not say no any longer.
Livia I had to have a play kitchen. Always the one to make things simple on myself I decided that I especially needed to have a DIYed one. There are lots of premade ones out there that get the job done but I wanted one that would be uniquely ours. Visions of entertainment centers or nightstand tables turned genius play kitchens began to dance before my eyes. And thus came my first snafu: I don't own a saw. Nor do I really know how to use one. Nor did I want to go to the effort of acquiring one and attempting to keep all my limbs in their original places. Sigh. It took awhile, but rather than accepting DIY defeat it occurred to me that rather than starting from scratch (or practically) I could start with a base and go from there. Thus, lil' red came into the picture:
Now while very cute in it's own right, there were two things it just didn't have going for it. For one, it was just a little too generic for my liking.Why make it simple when you can make it complicated, right? Number two, it's red. Not that I have anything against red, but nothing in my home is red these days and I didn't see making an exception here happening. The beauty of ordering it online however was that when it all arrived in pieces, they were just begging me to put a little DIY stamp on them. So before putting it all together, I started changing pieces to my liking:
I began by painting all of the red parts either white or gray (a bit more living room friendly). I decided to leave the knobs and handles the original color to give it a little extra pop of color. The backsplash was made with some leftover wallpaper that I had on hand from the kitchen redo I did awhile back. I just traced out the shape of the backsplash onto the paper, cut it to size and duct taped it on. (And poked some holes for the knobs/shelves to screw into later)
The happiness print I found randomly by doing a Pinterest search for free kitchen printables. It was so fitting so I decided to go for it. I made the towel (yes, that's correct--I actually sewed something successfully) was made from some fabric I already had on hand from back when I was toying with the idea to make an infant skirt for Livia (you can see how on top of that idea I was). Then I just swapped out the salt/pepper shaker for some pretty wood ones and added in a few Ikea appliances to add a little bit of shine to her pots and pan collection.
I look forward to adding to it as time goes on--I'm thinking I might attach a chalkboard grocery list on the side at one point. Also, more storage next to it would be nice so maybe I can find some fun vintage crates to stack or whatnot. We'll have to see!
This kid loves it. So far she does a lot more pantry organizing than actual cooking but hey, not all master chefs happen overnight, right? Livia is also modeling a lovely reversible apron given to her for Christmas by her bestie Julia and made by Julia's grandma, Joyce. Needless to say she loves it and even though the photo doesn't show it, it has definitely been put to good use, currently being covered in cookie crumbs.
My little cooking cutie, hard at work!