The Blue Ridge Pig

 

Of all the things Jim does for me, I think my very favorite might be his getting up with the girls every morning. I can stay up all night long or get up every hour with a baby, and I've learned to do both happily enough and without complaint. But I'm not by nature a morning person, and--baby or no, if I've ever gotten up with the sun on the "right side of the bed"--I sure don't remember it.

On weekdays, I get up very shortly after Jim and the girls because he has to leave for work, and Sundays aren't much better because--even if we skip Sunday school--it takes a long time to get six people ready and out the door for church. So I dearly love my long, Saturday mornings, curled up with Baby Chip in the shadowy hush of my bed. 

This morning, Sunday morning, I indulged and slept late a second morning in a row. I was so worn down and out that, no lie, extra sleep felt holy. Totally.

After I got up, Jim and Cade worked a big chunk of the day outside, after which I asked Jim to take us all for a drive. He asked where I might like to go, and I told him I knew where to get the best barbeque in all of Virginia, matter of fact, if he were willing to drive a mere hour and a half to get it.

And look, here's more proof positive that I married the right person: Jim didn't blink. Cade grumbled a little, but only because he wanted to play a video game, not because he's unaccustomed to my road-trip shenanigans.

Fast-forward a couple hours.

"Oh my, Brandee. Are you sure?" Jim asked. (We had passed several more respectable-looking establishments on the way.)

"Oh, yes," I told him.

 

And I guess this is something I want you to know about me: when we all get to heaven, if you can't find me?, look for me off to the side somewhere, on a picnic bench under a bare light bulb surrounded by business cards. There may well be dust, even a cobweb.

I'll be eating off a styrofoam plate. I'll be licking vinegar-based barbeque sauce from my fingers and chair dancing, just a little, to Paul McCartney's singing "Band on the Run."

If I'm particularly blessed, I'll be in the company of Jesus and these people:

 

 

And I won't give a care if the moon is rising above a Blue Ridge Pig (or anything else) on a school night.

One Foot in Front of the Other

From the situations in Boston and Texas to the Gosnell trial, I haven't much known what to say, this week, and I've pretty much decided that's ok, because so many others are talking. I've avoided their words, for the most part, and just kept putting one foot in front of the other.

I'm learning: I don't handle hot topics well, especially when they're at their hottest. I wish I did, in a way, because I think people long for someone to make sense of what causes them pain. In the past, I've allowed others to speak into my disappointment and hurt over the hot topics and walked away feeling even heavier. I've engaged in too many arguments with them, even just within the confines of my own head.

I'm learning, too: it's ok not to have answers. It's ok not to engage. It's ok not to pursue anything but a healthy something that makes me feel better. For all these reasons, I can't recommend any more highly this post from JoAnn Hallum. I had the sense, while I was reading, that she was rubbing my shoulder. Maybe even my tender, banged-up and bruised heart. I love her so.

You know, I look back over my week, and I experienced real beauty. God answered some of my prayers; my loved ones helped celebrate my birthday. But I've had easier weeks, lighter weeks.

Charleigh and I have been going at it head-to-head, and if I'm honest, she's often getting the better of me. Also, Jim and I have found ourselves at an impasse on a few issues and are working with a counselor: mostly because we're absolutely crazy about each other and want our "ever after" to go as happily as possible. But still.

My ex-husband called awhile ago to tell me his wife's back in the hospital and ask me to pick up Cade. We talked for a long time; he brainstormed with me about Charleigh and listened when I shared: my new counselor works two doors down from the one I saw nine or ten years ago, before my first marriage ended. I feel heavy and sad, I told him, walking past that other door, even being in that same building.

I told him: I feel sometimes like I'm making progress as a human, like I'm really growing in the Lord, and then, suddenly, I'm just not sure: seems like I might be as sorry and weak as I've ever been. He proceeded to affirm who I am, today, and the marriage I have, today. He encouraged me in every respect. It was a strange and beautiful moment.

I don't even know what I want to say, here. Part of me would like to be at a writers' conference, but here I am on the sofa, breastfeeding and blogging. I try to look beyond this day and feel instantly overwhelmed. I knew with more certainty what the rest of my life would look like, when I was ten, than I do at almost forty. Often, I don't know how to share my heart with my husband, let alone people I've never met in person. I don't know how to make my home a pretty and peaceful place, let alone the country, the world.

But when I look to Jesus, He says:

Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met. Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes (from the end of Matthew 6, MSG).

So I just keep putting one foot in front of the other. I just keep trying to make sense of this moment, with the people just in front of me. I just keep going. I just keep trying.

Thoughts on My 39th Birthday

What I wanted to tell you, at last, about spring break is this: we celebrated my thirty-ninth birthday. We also celebrated my brother's thirty-sixth.

There had been moments when I just wasn't sure we would make it. So much had happened among us: even just since I'd celebrated my thirty-eighth birthday, and my brother his thirty-fifth.

In the 365 days between my birthdays, Jim had undergone gastric-bypass surgery (and I'd acknowledged, signature on the line, risks up to and including death); my older nephew's elbow and fingers had been pinned back together after a serious ATV accident; my brother had gone paralyzed and, subsequently, undergone surgeries to insert a nerve stimulator in his back; and I'd undergone an emergency c-section to get Baby Chip, whom I'd been terrified over since (one month after a miscarriage) getting pregnant.

For the first time on this birthday, my thirty-ninth, we're all safely in the world. Everyone in my immediate family--including both the one into which I was born and the one my man and I have created--is here. We're a perfect dozen: the cookie-baker in me just loves that!

In the past 39 years, I've fought with my family. I've fought for them and wrestled with the Lord over them...just enough to know: for this and every birthday, they're all I want. They're the very best of what I have.

There were never any guarantees, and there still aren't. Every day we have is a gift. To know, feel, and really rejoice in it is another.

Mom and Clementine

My Dad, My Brother, and Chip

My Brother's Wife Sarah (and the godmother of all my children) with Chip

My Nephew CJ (AKA Evel Knievel)

Dad and Charleigh

Spring Break in Chattanooga, Pt. 2

Market Street (or John Ross) Bridge behind the Tennessee Aquarium

On our second day in Chattanooga, we visited the Tennessee Aquarium, which includes an "Ocean Journey" building and a second, "River Journey" building. No sooner did we embark upon our Ocean Journey than I realized: my camera card was full! I'd brought two extras on the trip, but they weren't on my person. Thankfully, neither good images nor good opportunities were lost; I just needed to take a moment and delete a bunch of junk from the card in my camera.

Here are some photos from our Ocean Journey:

Hyacinth Macaws

I think this is a Zebra Longwing.

Mocker Swallowtail, I think.

Mira with a Tawny Owl Butterfly

Clementine with the Tawny Owl

Japanese Sea Nettles, I think.

Cade and West Coast Sea Nettles

Boone

Charleigh, demonstrating why she was scared of the real shark.

I have to include the following photo, too, that Erin took. I love it dearly because--and you'll know just what I mean--it's the perfect refection of who Cade is right now (adorable and funny and through-and-through teen):

Photo Credit: Erin Snyder

I love this one of Cade, too. Just before I took it, I overheard him say to his baby brother: "I waited so long for you!" (Talk about a mama's heart melting!)

And here are my favorite photos from our River Journey:

North American River Otter

 

I'll be honest: as far as I'm concerned, an aquarium is an aquarium. The Tennessee Aquarium is a really nice one, though. Charleigh was completely done by the time we finished touring it, so we opted not to adventure further with our friends. I felt completely jealous for what we missed when, later, I looked at Erin's photos. But maybe next time. Or maybe, next time, Jim and I will leave the children with Nana and Papaw (and Aunt Sarah and Uncle Buck, Uncle Bernie and Aunt Renee, Rob and Sherry, or as many East Tennessee folks as it takes!) and have an adult adventure!

I have one more spring break post to share with you, and it might just be my very favorite.

Spring Break in Chattanooga, Pt. 1

Erin and Dave had spoken highly of Sugar's Ribs, so we all ate dinner there the night we went to Rock City. Ordering overwhelmed me, so I made Jim do it. I can't tell you what I ate, but I had no complaints. I drank a beer. After Rock City, I needed one.

The kids ate and went outside to pet the goats. Yeah, you read that right. They have goats at Sugar's Ribs. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Chattanooga is a (happily) weird place.

That night, we stayed at the Chattanooga Choo Choo Historic Hotel (i.e., The Terminal Station). It's a really cool place but not what I expected, which was more along the lines of Richmond's Byrd Theatre. (I realize that statement will mean nothing to most of you, but the Byrd was built in 1928 and is more "Gatsby" than the hotel.) Here are some photos from the Choo Choo:

Charleigh and Jim in the Pool

There were several things to do at the hotel, but our experience was pretty much limited to the pool and our room, which goes to our one complaint: we had bought a Groupon to stay at the hotel, and--when Jim called--he was advised to book a standard room, given the size of our family, as opposed to a Victorian Train Car.

When we visited Erin's and Dave's train car, it was obvious: we had been ill-advised. Their room appeared to be just as large as ours (albeit differently shaped), and their bathroom was definitely larger than ours. My theory is that the hotel books the exceedingly less cool, standard rooms whenever they can. If our friends hadn't been staying in a train car, we would probably still be none the wiser. If you go to the Choo Choo, request a train car.

One End of Erin's and Dave's Victorian Train Car

Next post: the Tennessee Aquarium.