#daddysgirl

Early on a friend of mine (I don't even remember which one) said "isn't it fun to watch your husband learn to be a dad?" Yes. Oh my goodness. Yes.

Have you ever read Of Mice and Men? Well then you know Lennie. If you don't remember him, spoiler alert: Lennie is large and too strong for his own good. He loves his pets so much that he consistently squeezes them to death. There is lots more to that book, but I just remember Lennie.

Now let me warn you, this is a very limited analogy...
Often when Brett when is spending time with Mary he says "I just love her so much I could squeeze her to death!" Well dear, please don't. But around our house we call those Lennie moments. Brett is absolutely in love with Mary. And Mary adores her daddy. She gives him crazy smiles. Watches KU games with him. And I swear she hugs him. Here are a few of my favorite Brett & Mary pics so far.

After work, with Mack

KU basketball watching

He's trying to read and she keeps distracting him

Post-nap stretches are the absolute cutest

Hugs. *sigh*

#daddysgirl
#bejealous
#hestaken

Note: This post was not endorsed, or even previewed, by my dear husband. He will probably be like "you posted whaaaaat?" But I thought you should see these :-)

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Friday Night "Fun"

The busy season schedule comes with plenty of challenges for us all, as we’ve discussed. Long days during the week. Getting up early to go in again on Saturday. And even occasionally plugging in to work after our church friends leave on Sunday nights (around 9pm). That is why I so look forward to Friday night. On Friday night, my best friend leaves work on time and we get to spend the evening together. Often that includes a happy hour or dinner out. It is the one night a week where it is completely acceptable to ask “when will you be home?”

Two weeks ago on a Friday I asked that innocent question. He was going to leave right at 5. We agreed that we would meet at a nearby Mexican restaurant for a few margaritas and chips and head home for dinner. It was Restaurant Week so most places in town require reservations a few days in advance.

At 5:05 I got a text from the Mister that said “I’ll be leaving in 5. Call you from the car.” So 5:15 rolls around. And 5:30. And 5:40. No call. Am I annoyed? Nooooo. Yes. Yes, I am. The little lady is fussy at this point because she is due for her late afternoon nap. I expected she would fall asleep in the car on the way to the restaurant 30 minutes ago. Do you know how long 30 minutes feels when you have a tired fussy baby? Really long, that’s how long. So I’m trying to console this little one while in my head…

Really? Really? How hard is it to leave on time once a week.

It’s just me and Mary all week long- morning, evening, middle of the night. And now he is making it even more difficult for me?

Are there other people working? Who is keeping him there?

Ugh. There is going to be a wait at the restaurant now. Doesn’t he know the difference between showing up at 5:15 and 6?

Sooo inconsiderate. I’m tired. I’m hungry. I’m mad. I’m sad.

These are all very upright, godly thoughts of course.

And I’m always on time so I’ve never been guilty.

And none of you have ever felt this way about anyone being late to meet you.

Duh.

So about this time my phone rings. An 800 number.

“Hello, is this Samantha?”

“Yes.” (Is this another vacation company trying to sell me on a package?)

“My name is Reuben from the Main Street Building Security” (Ugh. Brett forgot to bring money to get out of the parking garage and now I’m going to have to go bring cash.) “Brett is currently stuck in an elevator inside our building and does not have cell phone service. He is fine and we do have a technician on the way, but he asked me to call you to let you know he will be late for whatever appointment you have this evening.”

Insert lump in throat here.  “Oh wow. Okay. Is there anyone with him?”

“Yes ma’am. I believe there is one other gentlemen with him.”

“Okay. Well, glad to hear everything is alright. Thank you for calling.”

“Have a good evening.”

“You too.” 

I hung up and immediately confessed my stupid selfishness. My stupid sin.

I’m sitting here- at home, with water, and food, and a bathroom, and more than 10 square feet to move- stewing over how selfish he is. Little did I know he had been stuck in an elevator for 30 minutes. And would continue to have to wait another 45 to get out. Forgive me. Make my heart quit being so darn selfish. Of course he wants to get home too. Of course he wants to see me and Mary. He was not intentionally killing time with coworkers to avoid coming home. And now, ugh. I’m a jerk. Forgive me, Lord.

He called 45 minutes later. A total of 75 minutes in that darned elevator. There are two elevators banks in that building: one serving floors 1-15 and the other 16-30 (approximately). He was coming down from 20-something so when the elevator started to pick up speed and abruptly stopped, the elevator screen where the number should be read “XX”. That stands for “no-man’s-land where even if the elevator doors would open there is just a wall on the other side so you couldn’t get out”.

He was able to push a service button to talk to someone and let them know they were stuck. That man called the technician and said “is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Ugh. Get us out?”

No. He didn’t ask that. He asked that man, that voice, Reuben, to call his wife and apologize for being late.

Soooo there’s a dose of humility for you. For me.

We ended up going to dinner that night at a different Mexican restaurant. It took a while to find an opening and it was stressful. But we got there and enjoyed a date night with our little girl. Friday night worked out just fine.

And here is a thought: It would have been easy to pretend I was never mad.  It would have been easy to just think “Well, I was wrong. Glad it wasn’t me in that elevator!” To never tell him how angry I was. “Oh no big deal. I’m glad you’re fine! We were just killing time until you got home.” But it was important- really important- to apologize. To ask for forgiveness for being a butthead, even I never said anything mean. To confess my selfishness to God. Because if I can’t admit I’m wrong in that moment, how could I ask for forgiveness for the ickier stuff? We have to practice that sort of thing.

Don’t worry. We still aren’t good at Friday nights.  I got mad the next Friday too. I apologized and so did he. And then we had a great night.

Humility. By God’s grace, I’m learning. 

"... In humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others." 

(Philippians 2:3b,4)

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Thanksgiving and Beds

Last week was Thanksgiving.

Well obviously. You knew that. 

We made the trip to see hub's fam on Tuesday and the little lady slept almost the whole way. Stopping to feed at a truck stop was fun and classy, but it kept our little one full so that's good. It was a short trip, but we had a great time visiting the inlaws and the two little rascal cousins.

We made the trip back on Thursday to have Thanksgiving with my family and as always enjoyed great food and a mostly lazy day.

My favorite part of thanksgiving: Christmas music. I just luuuuuve Christmas music! I could sing along (or a capella) for hours! Hubs has never been very good at song lyrics, but over the past few years he has picked up on just enough to be dangerous. He was singing to little miss on Friday and messing up a few of the words, but Mary won't have them memorized until she is at least 18 months old so I let him go with it :-) We love sing-a-longs.

What is it about coming home from a trip- even a short one to visit family- that makes your bed that much sweeter? You may not have changed the sheets in a while,
that's not us of course, we change our sheets every 2 days like Oprah, but let's just imagine for a second that we're talking about someone else and it's been a few weeks
The sheets aren't clean, there are piles of things on the dresser that need to be put away, and the dust bunnies on the floor have multiplied like rabbits (ha! get my joke?) but you are still glad to be home in your own bed.

It's kind of like Thanksgiving. Objectively, the stuffing your mom makes is not as good as it would be at a restaurant on the plaza. The cranberry sauce- the kind with no berries that actually comes out like jello- would be scoffed at if you'd never seen it before and your aunt served it to you. Here's the deal- your thanksgiving is the best. Even if it smells a little funny, the glasses have watermarks, and blah blah blah. We are comforted by what we know well.

I don't really have a point. Just an observation.

I'll leave you with a few photos of a baby because that's what blogs are good at when your story has no point.

And for the record, my mom makes good stuffing. And I love cranberry sauce from the can.

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treat yo self... and my dog

My birthday was last week. I had a treat-yo-self day. 

Never experienced treat yo self?

I stopped at Starbucks to get a latte. 

Thanks, Starbucks card, for my free birthday drink.

Treat yo self fail.

I went to get my nails done over lunch and invited my sister. 

She paid for mine. 

Treat yo self fail.

I was about to go pick up some cookies from the Plaza 

when I got a call that my cousin had delivered 

cupcakes and flowers 

to my office. 

First flowers delivered at work and 

not one, but two cupcakes from Cupcake a la Mode. 

Treat yo self fail again.

So I gave up on treat yo self day. 

And enjoyed wonderful family treating my-self. 

My sister make me and all the family 

butternut squash casserole with kale and gnocci

pan seared scallops

and served us  all chantilly cake.  

And the whole fam chipped in to get me a nice camera.

Hooray!

Mack got to be my model on Saturday while hubs went for 

a two hour long run. 

Yes. I said two hours. 

Anyway, these shots are straight out o' the camera. 

Smiiiille Mack-a-doodle!

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Nagano

One of my favorite parts of the trip was our visit to Nagano.

We went to Nagano with Kevin, one of the pastors of All Nations Fellowship, and his wife Nozomi and their baby Lia. Kevin has lived in Japan for 9 or so years and know this older Japanese man named Mr. Ishi. Of course he is older and wiser than us so we all called him Ishi sensei which means master or teacher. We stayed with him in his beautiful home. I am kicking myself now for not taking a picture. Anyway, Kevin kept telling us that the most Japanese thing we would experience while we were there would be Ishi Sensei himself. He was right.

Ishi sensei and his wife worked in an orphanage for years before they built a house in a mountain community and settled in with the intention of hosting friends. His wife died of cancer only 3 or 4 years later. The man spoke almost no English, but told stories while Kevin or Rob translated. He told us about Japanese tea ceremonies, soba, ant hell bugs, and World War 2. He wasn't afraid of large bumblebees or buyos but was not eager to encounter mafia men. Understandably so. Oh, and he does carpentry and gardens. No big d.

While the boys were talking- in English or Japanese at any given time- Nozomi, Tara, and I [attempted] to get dinners ready. They included japanese barbeque with a pit in the middle of the table, japanese curry, and shabu shabu. Oh don't you know? Shabu shabu is when you boil meats and vegetables on the table over a hot plate. Again no pictures. Lame.

I don't have pictures of the food, but I do have pictures of a few other highlights (in no particular order and excluding family time which is a given):
1. Ishi Sensei
2. Hiking
3. Flower Garden


1. Ishi Sensei

He is around 75 and very kind. He played poker with us and put on sunglasses so we wouldn't see his face. He taught us about the war and matcha tea ceremonies and various kinds of plants (while Rob translated). And together we discovered spaghetti squash. This picture was taken at 5:45am so forgive us for our moderately unexcited faces.

2. Hiking
Ishi Sensei kicked our pants on this hike. I think we climbed 127 stairs. Well, I climbed. He practically ran. Slight exaggeration, but still. Anywho, It was raining on and off so we all got to wear sweet rain jackets and carry umbrellas. Only the Japanese, and their American visitors, would carry umbrellas on a hike...

3. The Flower Garden
The last day in Nagano we went outlet shopping. Don't let the word outlet deceive you though. Everything is still very expensive. I found a few Zara shirts I loved for around 4500 yen. That is about $58. Tempting, but no. After that we went to a flower garden. It was free, overgrown, and vacant, but still beautiful. There is something fun about seeing the same flowers that I have in my garden half-way around the world. Plus the views of rice and soba fields with mountains in the background were refreshing. I must be a country girl.

Our two trips to onsens did not make my list. What is an onsen, you ask? A public bath with 105 degree water and friendly people. Pre-wash here (I'll spare you of a picture with actual people bathing.)

Relax here. (Ours were gender specific, but you get the idea.)

Enough said.

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Off to Kyoto

Warning: this post is a little scattered and the pictures are poor quality, but it's better than nothing.




Last weekend we went to Kyoto for a day. So of course I had "we're off to Kyoto, like Dorothy and Toto..." in my head the whole time. Mom and sister- you'll appreciate this:

Look! It's Big Bird!

Menus were hard to read. And I don't speak Japanese. Good thing you can just pick the food out of the cases. We'll take that one aaannnd that one.

We found the bamboo forest, but we couldn't find the princess.

Oh wait! Princesses! I snapped a quick photo while they were stopped to buy matcha (green tea) ice cream. Ick. I just got chocolate.

Okay now for to the non- Big Bird references.

We took a train to get there. Trains here are so funny. People line up neatly to get on, then sit quietly.

Everyone is very considerate so they keep bags on their laps or in front of them; they don't take up more space than they really need. It was raining outside so the quiet and the rain made for a great napping atmosphere. However, I refuse to show you the incriminating photos that my bestie took. Can you tell what this goon is doing?

When we got there, our first stop was at the Monkey Park. It was a significant hike to get to the top, but there were tons of monkeys roaming around when we finally got there, so it was worth it. You could even go inside a little hut to feed them.

(just a tid bit warm and humid in Kyoto)

Smart of them to allow food only in the hut, because otherwise the monkeys might get a little aggressive outside. I'm assuming they learned that one the hard way. Anyway, the park was up high enough that it had a great view of Kyoto. Pretty, huh?

For lunch we had okonomiyaki. Try saying that one 3 times fast. Or just try saying it at all. (All Japanese words sound like that to me). It is essentially a pancake made of a bunch of veggies, then covered in miso sauce, mayo, and fish flakes. Sounds delish, right? Well it is actually. And it is large. This one is probably 8-10 inches in diameter.

Our final stop was the golden temple. It is a zen Buddhist temple covered in gold plating and surrounded by a large garden. The garden wasn't that impressive, but the building was pretty! Too bad there were a bajillion tourists swarming me, or I could have spent more time looking at it and less time hyperventilating...

Sunday was more low key. We went to church, ate pizza, and watched Huger Games. Then Monday we went to Nagano. More to come on all of that.

Sayonara!

(PS- Pardon the crummy photos. Phone pictures with no iPad editing. I'll fix it later.)

 

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Intro to Japan

Alright let's just get the awkward out of the way: No, I don't have any pictures to show you. You're just going to have to get over it.

Sunday we made the trek to LA. We saw a candy apple red Ferrari and ate at Burger King. They have sweet potato fries now. Did you know that? Then Monday we went from LA to Tokyo. As expected, it was a long flight. Just short of 12 hours. We read, ate plane food, watched movies, ate plane food, and tried to take a short nap. No avail. I've never been one for napping. We arrived in Tokyo, made it through immigration and customs, and settled down to wait for the next flight to Nagoya.

At this point, though, I was due for a bathroom break. Toilet= hole in the floor. Right. Almost forgot about that. Meanwhile, Hubs went off to find something to drink. I know that you dont get much to drink on planes, and I brought along a large water bottle that I rationed the whole way, but nothing can prepare my body for only receiving 3 oz of water every hour or so. I just don't function that way. I needed rehydration. So as I was saying, hubs went to procure some. He got what looked like green tea. Naturally, it was barley tea. What does barley tea taste like? I thought you might ask so I tried to think of a way to describe it. There are no words. I went back and got what looked like water. Luckily, it was. We sat and waited for the next flight. Ya know what I started noticing here? Japanese women worked all the airlines, we're all the same size, and all smiled a ton. Think PanAm, but Japanese. But wait, its not just the airport staff. Everyone is the same size and is smiling a lot! There was one other American woman in the same terminal. She yelled at me. Coincidence? Don't think so.


We arrived in Naygoya and claimed my bag. First international flight without losing my bag= success! Thanks, orderly Japanese people. And then I saw the mirror image of my hubs standing outside baggage claim. I hadn't seen that face in over a year. We exchanged big hugs with Rob and Tara and ventured off to the subway and to the bus to their apartment. I've been in plenty of public transportation situations, but things are a little different here. No one pushes to get on the subway. People waitin single-file line to get on the bus. And everything is clean. Overall, it makes the experience much more positive except that people don't really talk on public transportation. So you have to be very quiet. Boring.

We arrived at the apartment, ate pizza, quesadillas, and Doritos (no, this is definitely not common) and crashed at 11 or so. We had woken up that "morning" at 7am pacific/ 9am central/ 11pm Nagoya time. So a full 24 hours later we were happily resting on "futons" on the floor. Futons are just thick padding. Kinda like memory foam without the bed, except it has no memory. Well, you know what I mean. Anyway, it got the job done and because we hadn't slept in so long we weren't too badly affected by jet lag. 6am wake-up, equivalent to 8pm central, is a good start to the time change. Too bad we keep waking up at the same time each morning...

Anywho, there is plenty more to tell you, but it'll have to wait cause typing on my iPad is slightly less than comfortable. Besides, I want to get some breakfast.

Over and out.

Ps- Yes, it is all like they portray in Big Bird in Japan. No joke.

Pps- I'm not proofreading so you'll just need to ignore typos and poor grammar, please and thank you,

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Memorial Day

I know I told you I'd write about baseball, and I full intended to today, but then there was a heated game last night and I got all riled up. So it's best if I let myself take a chill pill and write about that later.

In the mean time, I'll tell you about my weekend.

Friday hubs went left and I went right. Actually, we were only a block apart for a good portion of the night, but who's counting? His bestie is getting married and they had their bachelor party. Do men call their best friends "besties"? Probs not. Let's call him his best "bud". I don't think hubster uses that phrase, but I'm at a loss. Anyway, they had a bachelor party and I went to the associated bachelorette cause the future Mrs. Best Bud is great and we get along well. No photos from the evening, but the boys ended the night at 3am with Taco Bell sooo... just sayin.

Blah blah boring things on Saturday morning and mid-day. Then that afternoon we went my sister move into her new place. It was super duper hot, so no photos there either. Even if they did exist, which they don't, I wouldn't show you.

Then Sunday the pictures began. We went to Celebration at the Station. Ever been? Basically the Symphony has a free concert on the lawn between Union Station and the Liberty Memorial. Did you know the Liberty Memorial is one of very few WWI museums in America? Well we sat on blankets between the two landmarks and listened to the symphony while we enjoyed wine, fruit, bread with oil, and (duh) dessert.

My lovely friend and I made what I like to refer to as the classic grandma style potluck dessert- strawberry jello cheesecake crusty things. That's the technical term. I'll find the recipe and post it here. But the fun of it was the mini-mason jars. Everything is more fun in a jar, doncha know? Long story short, I didn't know how to transport the dessert for more than 10 people in a cooler to the park. Much less, something that could baked in and served from. Solution? My friend mason. Check out these little cutie pies?*

Pardon the photo quality. Not sure what happened here. 

There were also some wonderful designs on Union Station behind the symphony stage. How cool?!

They also shot of cannons. Like real cannons. The really loud ones. I jumped every time. Then they shot off fireworks behind the memorial. A lot of them. Probably the best firework show I've been to in a long time. 

Then Monday came and we had a b-day party for my cuz. Pool party, to be specific. It was the perfect day for it. Mack-attack loves to swim. 

False. He does not love to swim. That picture was staged. Hard to imagine, but true. 

And I baked a cake. Cause that's how I roll. 

Then my sister and I wore matchy-matchy outfits. She called us "twinkles" all day. Not sure what that means... But I do  know that she thought our dresses were green sooo she's clearly a bit coo-coo for cocoa puffs.

That's all folks. 

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Happy April 25th

Know what brings a smile to my face? 

This FB post on my wall this morning. 

Love my cousin. 

He's creepy and I'm good with that.

We have a date on Saturday night and I'm pumped. 

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hobbies include dogs and parks

Well, it's Friday of our week off. The beautiful days of sleeping in, soaking up sunshine, doing physical labor , and spending all of our time together is quickly coming to an end. One more roadtrip to go :-)

This week we have indulged in all our favorite hobbies: KU basketball, gardening, outdoor jogs, baking, Internet surfing, and... last but certainly not least... the dog park!

We love the dog park. Because we love our dog. And we love parks. So it really is a natural combination. We love it so much, that we decided to borrow The Klines' dog for the afternoon just so we could have two dogs at the dog park. Two is better than one. Unless we're talking about owning two. Hubs is convinced we need another. I'm perfectly content with borrowing extras when Mack-a-zoid needs a pal.

The long, skinny, shiny caramel coated dude is Neosho. Neosho runs laps around Mack-intosh. He's a vizsla. That's just how vizslas are. And we love it. But he's also very obedient and -bonus!- a swimmer! Check this out*:

* Please excuse my voice in these videos. It's not my fault.

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