Happy Birthday, Stephanie-born-in-May

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What do Broccoli Cheese Soup at the Big Wheel, birthing classes at Howard Community with the Loftises on Thursday nights, Princess Diana, a really ornery Tilt-a-Whirl operator at Indiana Beach Amusement Park (now fancily called a resort), the song “He Means More to Me Today Because of Yesterday” by the Sounds of Happyness, and a beautiful morning in May with the lilacs in full bloom have in common?

My Stephanie.  Second child, only preemie, the teeny-tiniest babe who caused faith to rise in my heart as I prayed to God for her in the dark night, me in the hospital in Kokomo – her fighting to breathe at James Whitcomb Riley Hospital in Indianapolis.  Thirty-one years ago.

If an old friend lets you down

And a true love can’t be found

Till the blue skies come around

I’ll be right by your side

You weren’t due until June, very late June, very-very late June.  But you came in May and it was beautiful and it was a surprise and it was meant to be.  And every May since, we are reminded of the blessing and miracle and joy and completion and maturity and faith you brought with you, and what it caused in us.

No don’t forget me now that we’re apart

Just open up that great big loving heart

And you’ll always be

You’ll always be

You’ll always be a part… of me…

The name.

As middle names go, May wasn’t even on “the list,” and was perhaps a little old-fashioned for the times.  But we named you Stephanie because of one our favorite actresses at the time (Stephanie Powers) and because one of my all-time greatest Bible heroes is Stephen (see Acts chapter 6).  And May was for the month, the merry merry month of May.  Because it was a magical, lovely time in our lives – all was right and beautiful and exciting and we anticipated your birth with great energy and expectancy. And yet, you were actually so unexpected on that Friday, 5 1/2 weeks before your “due date.”

Take your time to embrace romance

Teach your children how to sing and dance

Love may hurt but it’s worth the chance

I’ll be right by your side…

And haven’t you been so many unexpected things things since?  Haven’t you just always done and became and created and produced and added to and on and surprised and delighted and shined and sang and wrote and been successful and just grown up to be an unexpected bundle on wondrousness?  Haven’t you?  Yes, you have.

Try to be the best you can

Show compassion to every man

And always take the higher ground

I’ll be right by your side

Journey far and travel safe

Make this world a better place

And keep that smile upon your face

I’ll be right by your side…

I wasn’t perfect this I would admit

I was always trying to make the pieces fit

Just know you’ll always be

You’ll always be

You’ll always be a part of me…

You’re a trailblazer and  a trendsetter. The family looks at you to confirm cool because if it isn’t, you’ll be the first to know.  Your children are awed by you, your husband reveres you.  Your siblings recognize your gifts and your parents are pleased with how you turned out and in seeing God’s favor and blessing on your life.

And so I bring you the gift of these words and my prayers and wishes for you.  The theme is this: I believe in you.  And I hope you will open that gift with fearlessness and abandon, knowing you’ll always be a part of me, the best part of me.

a birthday blessing for my daughter

Happy Birthday, Stephanie, amazing, blazing, sizzling daughter, strong woman and spirited girl.  Your life was ordained and has so much value.  I thank God for breathing into your lungs the breath of life, quickening your tiny mortal body 31 short years ago with the very power that raised Christ Jesus from the dead.  That healing will take you all the way to the end with great fire and presence.  Go get ‘em, Steph! {love from your mom}

Don’t ask me how the time has gone

I’ve loved you since the minute you were born

So many times we have laughed and cried

I see you now it fills my heart with pride

You’ll always be

You’ll always be

You’ll always be a part… of me…*

*Pure Love, Rod Stewart

 

You common field weed, you

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I am growing tomatillos this year!

I cannot wait.  I picked one up last year with no expectations and it did nothing.  I mean, it was green and it grew and got beautiful yellow flowers, but then – nothing.  I mean, I can grow tomatoes just fine.  Where o where were the tomatillos?

Mystery solved.

Tomatillas are not self-pollinating, it turns out.  So – they need to be in a serious, commmitted relationship with other tomatillos.  I got 4 this time.

A lot of people think they are just green tomatoes, however, they are a nightshade plant more closely related to cape gooseberry plants.  They’re a little wild by nature and considered a common field weed in Mexico.  Nonetheless – I am very excited at the possibilities…

The essential ingredient in the green salsas of Mexican cuisine is not the tomato but the tomatillo—a fruit with a citrusy, sweet flavor. Dainty paper husks encase the tomatillos, and by late summer, what seems like billions of fruits dangle from the plant’s branches, ensuring that you can more than satisfy your salsa cravings by summer’s end. Organic Gardening

They are indeterminate, grow 3 to 4 feet high and put down roots through their stems, so the idea is to plant them very deeply and then stake them.  I am so excited I am going to give them a place of honor this year where the pond used to be, right  near the patio so I can keep a good eye them.  I hear if they are happy they go a little nuts.  I hope that happens.

In about 75 days, I shall be in the kitchen making garden fresh salsa verde and it is going to be incredible!  Want some?

Just call me Mr. McGregor

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Hey, Peter Rabbit – yes, you and all your friends and cousins, too:

Get the heck out of my garden, you little hole-digging, lettuce chomping monsters.

Aaaaarrrgghh!

I wouldn’t be bothered one bit if a bunny feasted on Russian Sage or Garlic Chives (both quite aggressive little boogers in the backyard).  But darn it, stay out of my SFG* raised beds, or else!

P.S., Bunny-boy: I saw where you came in.  Don’t make me have to take drastic action.

*SFG Square Foot Gardening #lovemelbartholomew

A Thursday

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Pizza, and stuffed pizza, hot French bread and real butter, a fresh mozarella, avocado and tomato salad, garlic chicken quinoa, a spinach/red onion/toasted almonds, avocado, gorgonzola and strawberries with poppyseed dressing salad, lemon bars, warm brownies, these chocolately-oat and nutty squares to die for, iced tea, peppermint tea, lemonade; Amy Jo and Piper and Tesla, Heather and Emily and Hannah, Candi and Lainey, Patrice and moi.

Candi is as nice as a church bookkeeper.  I am as nice as a Target cashier. Open to interpretation.   :)

best. thing. ever.

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Bestie-cousins.

Malakai (4 months) kicking and flailing to beat the band.  And baby Bailey (6 weeks today), with her little gloved hands to keep her from scratching that gorgeous face.

They were just hanging out talking about how happy they are going to be when Tredessa has her baby (a new cousin!)  just 30 weeks or so from now.  :)

worst. thing. ever.

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I love writing by inspiration.  Love it.  When it happens, drop everything!  It does not happen often enough for my taste.

Yesterday, a late afternoon thunder storm rolled in and everything got very dark for half a hour and inspiration  hit and for 20 minutes words-words-words poured out and arranged themselves with vivid color and texture and sound and I could taste raindrops and see flower petals magnified and I was inside the writing and the phrases just built themselves with a flow of loveliness that fell like magic raindrops.

Then something crashed with this crazy computer or with WordPress or something and ($#@!@#$!!!) and I lost.every.single.bit.of.it.  All the magic dissipated and I had to be somewhere right then and I couldn’t even try to recall.

How can it be gone?  It is.

Happy Mothers Day, mommies far & wide

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ESPECIALLY-Happy Day to my own sweet mom

Oh, sweet mamala.  You make me laugh.  And cry, sometimes, too, from laughing so hard. But mostly you just make me smile, and feel loved!  My whole lifelong I have had a most amazing mom, but I only really-really got to know her deeply after my kids were older and she was my current age (too busy in life).  Then I finally got to see her heart and understand her soul and mind and how much I really finally began to hope-hope-hope to grow up to be just like her.  It is my aim and deepest wish to somehow attain to become as wonderful as my mom, if that is even ever possible.

Happy Day to all MOMS far and wide

I fear I’ll forget some important acknowledgements, but if I could just say to a FEW women I know…

Happy Mother’s Day to Heather, Amy Jo, Patrice, Candi, Pearly-Q and Marilyn.  Your kids range from newborn to fully grown and I learn so much from you, time and again.  But especially today, to my Marilyn.  You raised 2 lovely, lovely children, who gave you more babies.  A couple of months ago, you lost one – except that he isn’t lost, we know this.  He has just gone on ahead.  And today on Mother’s Day, since Jason isn’t here to join Kori in saying it, I know he knew and so I will say, You are one of the best moms on the planet and I know your children never ever have doubted your love and affection for them.  So happy Mother’s Day, sweet Marilyn.

Dana, my sweet, you look at your children with such deep affection and reverence.  I am inspired by your love for them and your capacity to love the children around the world.  Your heart is big enough to do all God is calling you to, this is evident.  So many children to come…

I also wanted to say Happy Mother’s Day to my little sister.  Tami has not birthed any babies in the physical sense, but no one can deny the place she has held in the hearts of teenagers and kids everywhere as she and her husband have led youth groups and churches across the country.  Everybody loves Tami and if anything had ever happened to us when my kids were little, she was going to have all 5 of mine!  :)  As an aunt, she is superb, and she’s carried my mommying burdens with me many times.  So on this day, I recognize the nurturing gift and godly woman and mother figure she holds to many, many people looking for a spiritual mom.  You are wonderful, Tami.

Stef – what an honor I have had to get to watch you become a mom when Sawyer was born, and to get to walk the halls with you for Wryder’s birth.  The care and details you pour into these babies, how you invest in giving them a loving home and a wonderful life is amazing.  I hope you can see that God trusts you with them – that you are the one He knew could do this.  You are a lovely mama.

And my friend Stephanie, I have to say Happy Mother’s Day to her!  Steph, you have proven that even though it is hard and there are battle wounds, you can blend and watch a family thrive.  I love that you and your son joined yourselves to your handsome love and his children and are beating all odds.  Yesterday to see the joy, the happiness, the this IS working for us, we are family: priceless!  Well done, Stephanie!

Plus TWO nieces:  My niece, Lori because she has LOTS of kids and never loses track of them or faith in them.  And recently-lots of extra-mommying has been happening.  Happy Mother’s Day, Lori.  AND Elise-the-Niece gave birth to her baby boy, Blake Matthew, at 00:04 this morning.  HAPPY Mother’s Day!

Happy Mother’s Day to My Daughters, Tara, Stephanie and Jovan

Tara was born just before Mother’s Day in 1979.  I took her to church that morning, just 4 days old.  I heard the Mother’s Day sermon and felt the awe of what had just been delivered to me.  By God Himself! Beauty.  These women – are so good at what they do, so far beyond what I ever was.  I am constantly amazed as I watch them  raise their own {8} lovely children.

And Happy Day to the ones who made me a mom: Tara, Stephanie, Dessa-Poo, Rocky and Stormie-kins~

Every Mother’s Day I think I should be thanking my 5 kids.  Plus the ones who call me mom, now, the ones I did not have to labor over (blessed!).

To the 5: You are my trophies and my reward – heritage {!}, not for anything I could have or would have thought to do or be as a mom, but because God can only give amazing gifts, and oh, so He did!  But you’re testaments to Him, He is so faithful and good and He knew I needed the ways each of you challenge me.  I love watching your lives and seeing you become the glory of all God had in mind when he reached into my womb and created your little beings there. I love watching your families grow and seeing His faithfulness poured out over you, too.

dave and jeanie rhoades familyJust recently got this  photo in some of Dad Rhoades’s belongings after his death.  I had never seen it.

Please give me all the way to the end to become the mom God has in mind and I promise I shall keep trying with all my might to get there. You are the proof that God is able to use feet of clay and everyday vessels.  He is just so faithful.  I am just so blessed.

Tara + Dave = Hunter and now Malakai, too (Doesn’t he just make this Mother’s Day all the more special?). Three men and a beautiful woman!  Adoption, so amazing, so sweet.  Our firstborn is blessed with a lovely family.  I love you so.

Stephanie, you started the growing-family thing by marrying Tristan, then giving us our very first grandbebe, plus two more darlings: Gavin, Guinivere, and Gemma May.  The Kelley family, head-turners and beautiful.  I love you deeply.

Tredessa loves Ryan and we love him, too.  And they are a family (we pray for many children for them in the future!). You are a joy and delight as you have always been.  Love you lots!

Rocky and Jovan and all their little women, Averi-J, Amelie Belle and baby-Bailey fill the world with frills and fun.  Rock-bo, you’re blessed and surrounded by love and respect, including mine.

Stormie, our sweet baby girl ~ favorite auntie and love of our lives.  You are the final flourish, the grand finale, the ‘ta-da.’ Love you like crazy, baby girl.

Oh, and one more thing~

Ryan and Tredessa are pregnant!  They told us a few weeks ago and were going to make us stay silent for another month but they couldn’t wait either!  Bebe is due in mid- December and we are so happy. :)  So, Happy Mother’s Day to you, too, Tre-Tre!

It IS a Happy Mother’s Day!

Joyous Birthday to the firstborn, my Tara Jean~

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To the girl who was deemed Liquid Joy {or Joy-bear} while she was growing up~

As the music at the banquet

As the wine before the meal

It was 5:55 a.m. The sun had just broken through bright and I felt the earth move.  Actually, probably less the earth moving than having that first, distinct contraction – that sign for which I had waited, wondering if I’d even know when you’d be coming.  But there it was – a new sensation, so marked and unambiguous, I knew everything was about to change forever.  I drank in the sun as it rose through my window.  I looked at the clock and my heart palpitated with wild excitement.

Today is the day.  This child for whom I have prepared and waited would arrive.  Today – this baby that had caused me to exercise daily and eat so many vegetables for its’ health – now we would see.

Boy or girl?  I didn’t know, but I was praying for a baby girl with blond hair and rosy cheeks (like the baby of one of my college Bible teachers).  I had a vision in mind…

No one but Grandma and I even knew.  It was our happy little secret all day as we went here or there.  I wrote down contraction times and when asked by friends and church family, “When are you going to have that baby?”  “Oh, maybe today, I’d tell them,” smiling so big inside about the best secret in the world.

5:55 a.m. and the clock spun wildly around until 5:55 p.m. when I told Grandma, “I need to go to the hospital now.“  I am not sure how I knew it except that I was packing my bag and when a contraction would come, I’d have to stop what I was doing to breath through it.  I was giddy with anticipation, feeling out of control.

But grandpa.  He wanted us to wait and drop him at the church.  So we left at 6:15 and drove {the almost opposite direction} to drop him at his office around 6:30 p.m. and then we were off to the hospital.  Okay-maybe I am being dramatic, as it was only about a 10 mile trip, but when you are in transition…

We pulled up to the doors at emergency so my mom could drop me off and I was met with a wheel chair at 6:48 p.m.  As we went over the bumpy grate going in, I said to my wheelchair-pusher, “Could you stop for a minute?  I am having a contraction and need to breathe.”

“Oh, honey,” she said with great disdain.  “You are never going to make it.  This is your first baby and you will be in labor for at least 20 hours and if you are acting like this now, you will never make it.”  I figured she was the expert and I thought if what she was telling me was true I would never be able to do this for 20 more hours. I was not going to make it.

But I also kind of wanted to hit her.

She delivered me to labor and delivery and you were born at 7:16 p.m. – just 28 minutes after my mom had delivered me to the door.  I have never gotten over the fact that I didn’t get to smack that wheelchair pusher.  I just never have.

As the firelight in the night

So are you to me

At two

And like so many other things in your life

You surprised me and showed right up and it was beautiful and mysterious and awe-inspiring and magical and spiritual and breath-taking and it was you and me, just us. And you looked at me, and I couldn’t quit looking at you and though we’d only just met, I felt so at home with your warm, fuzzy head. The smell of you, the contour of your face in the barely-lit room: proof of God’s love for me.  A gift straight from heaven!  I knew I was undeserving.  I knew no one, no one, but God could have, would have entrusted you to me.

At three

As the ruby in the setting

As the fruit upon the tree

Oh, love story of love stories – my baby, my own, a sweet tiny, pink-bundled girl.  Blonde-haired, blue-eyed, joy of joys.  I wondered if I was actually allowed to feel this happy -  because I was sure some one would take you away if they knew.

As the wind blows over the plains

So are you to me

 Read about Kai’s adoption story here

And now, joy-child, beautiful woman with two sons of your own {I learn so much from watching you mother them, love them} – it is a day to celebrate your birth, to remember and recall that day thirty-four years ago with gratefulness and thankfulness to a loving God who drew my heart to His with the most loving-kindess imaginable in the form of a girl, tender and sweet, now a woman – wise and lovely.  I do thank God for you.  I do.  So I wish for you (a prayer-wish, of course):

As the wind blows over the plains

So are you to me

So are you to me

Happy Birthday, firstborn and namesake.  Happy Birthday, daughter and friend.  I love you.

 

 

A funny thing happened on the way to a black wall

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First – the wall

It isn’t really black.  I wanted a gray, but I hate cool, cold grays.  That is prison.  I wanted a warm gray, something I could live with.  Almost like a well-erased chalkboard, but not.  I also have seen beauty in charcoal briquettes – variations as they burn from jet-black to white hot, so I said, “I want a dark, almost-black wall.  It has to be warm and ‘read black.’ But it can’t be cold and rigid.  There has to be warmth and drama, and really excellent contrast.  Contrast is key.  But warmth for sure.  Don’t forget warmth.”

Sherwin Williams Urbane Bronze came into my life.

You can actually Google that color and there are so many images of it.  The best use of it is found at www.emilyaclark.com.  It sort of looks dark brown when you open the can, but then it is gray-a warm charcoal (almost black) gray.  I liked it so much, I did two walls.  One in the family room (it used to be red).  And the stairwell wall going upstairs.  Two different rooms.

There are going to be white-framed mirrors filling this resplendent Urbane Bronze wall.

There was this little accident

“Most accidents occur in the home,” we have all heard.  Dang it.  It’s true.

So Dave was painting the stairwell wall this oil-rubbed-dark-bronzey color that I am head-over-heels for {did I tell you about Urbane Bronze?  Yes?  Ok, then}.  It came time to paint the very vital edge of it – the place it would meet the creamy-white of the ceiling.  Of course, that has to be pristine in every way.  There can be nothing short of perfection in the edges.  The edges are the glorious contrast and distinction of this paint job.

But the ceiling over the stairs slopes down slightly from a 16′ high peak.  And Dave could reach and tape a good portion from a ledge at the top of the landing.  And he could reach the heights from the floor on his 8 foot ladder at the bottom of the stairs.  But there were these 8 feet in the middle…

Sigh.

We tried something.  It didn’t work like we had hoped.

Advice:

Do not jimmy-rig a “quick” scaffold from found objects, plop a small ladder atop and think, “Wow-this is working great.  No problem.”  Because it might not actually be so, moments later.

Dave – shown here holding one of the frames that will be getting mirrored so I could begin to imagine the beauty of this Urbane Bronzed wall filled with white-framed mirrors.  This is when we thought our plan was working, just minutes before it turned out not to be…

Anyway – it sort of collapsed, and a 2″ x 8″ x 6′ board hit my right cheekbone {very} near my eye at about 300 pounds of speed and force and Dave eventually (because I saw it in slow-mo) dropped onto the tile floor on his noggin and got a headache.  My eye swelled like an egg, so I iced it for 15 minutes, removed some wood from my finger (which was bruised black by the iPhone I was still holding when the dust settled – even though my glasses were across the room, neatly folded and didn’t even look like they just been hit by low-flying lumber).

First I cried because I thought I’d killed my husband just to have my Urbane Broze wall.  Then, we laughed about it {wearing an eye patch for the rest of my life because I’d lost an eyeball just would not have been my style at all} and just resumed our work.

But as the day wore on, my eye turned into a full-fledged, good, old-fashioned shiner and my face swelled up.  Then Dave’s ribs started feeling sore and his ring finger turned a really terrible shade of gray – the exact shade of gray I wanted to avoid on my walls at all costs.  It took us awhile, but we finally convinced him to go to the doctor.

But not before he started painting the next room and mowed the lawn and all that stuff.  :)  He just made an appointment for two days later and went on with life.

Blood work and x-rays and answering lots of questions revealed cracked ribs on both sides, a bruised head (no concussion, thank the Lord) and a broken, gray-black-purply ring finger  (plus some very bad blood sugar numbers – I knew it).  Nothing terribly serious, but I have a feeling the momentum to paint the whole house just got the air let out of its’ tires.

*Sigh.  So close!

On the bright side

We had already decided to re-stain and paint the banister and railings to rid them of the awful orangey-pine look and even though that was going to be a project at a later date, but, since the wood that hit my face first shaved off an eighth of an inch of finish and wood on the railing top and broke a couple of spindles, too – that project gets moved up.  Isn’t that fortuitous?

Averi is here for school today and she got a matching black eye to make me feel better…when I discovered that my normal everyday eye shadow contains all the colors in my black eye.  Hmm….

Geesh.  We are now most certainly a statistic of accidents at home, sweet home.